#except in their case it ended in total and utter disaster | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sp00kworm · 3 years ago

Text

Evo-23

Pairing: Zombie/Infected (Ji-woon) x Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: Gore, Horror, Cannibalism, Graphic Gore and Wound descriptions, Death.

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“Consider it a harmless improvement of human evolution!”

“It’s a disaster waiting to happen. It is barely tested and not ready for human use. The rewriting of the genetic code was banned for so long for this very reason!”

“And who’s to say it’s a good idea now?”

“It’s truly just a simple splicing technique. Consider the eradication of cancer and genetic diseases!”

“A disaster. An abomination to God.”

“This, my good sir, is God’s great plan.”

They made the Others, then they made the epidemic.

You looked at his face. Again, and again, you looked at his face replaying on the small screen, running on what juice was left in the generators you had managed to salvage from the quarantine hospital camps they had set up when it all started. His bald, freckled head, and the glasses you wished you could snap and stamp on. Cold brown eyes. He’d known and done nothing.

“Just a simple rewriting of DNA code.” You uttered as you pushed your spoon into the syrup of the tinned peaches you were eating. It tasted good enough, but it was pushing close to the expiry date on the top of the sawed open metal. Soon you would be struggling you knew. The risk of botulism would be high the longer you carried on eating canned food after the dates. You hoped that wouldn’t happen. You prayed as you checked the date and sighed with relief. Canned peaches just tasted too good. Along side it you had managed to find some very stale looking crackers, but it was a meal almost for a king in the squalor you had been suffering for the past two years. Syrup dripped over your chin before you wiped it away and slapped the recording off.

The papers had raved about the new viral technique to removing cells, DNA and disease from humans. Rat, dog, rabbit and pig research had all gone well, showing promising signs for the virus vector to be used in all walks of life. Chimps had suffered few effects. One in every hundred had suffered mania effects, easily glazed over and removed from the public eye before the method was patented properly and set to human subjects. It was then that the issues started. Isolated manic episodes, bleeding from the nose and eyes, total loss of motor function before the body was paralysed and the blood vessels collapsed. It killed people. Five participants were killed. It killed their cancerous tumours but then it killed everything else. There was something different after that. Then the bodies started digging their way out of graves. It was covered up. Again, and again, bodies went missing in the night until one of them was gone. The cases carried on after that, bleeding eyed screaming creatures running through hospitals, cold and dead, but moving completely from memory. Then there had been the Others. The Others had evolved. Humans whose DNA had fully incorporated with the virus. They were stronger, immortal and just as dead as the rest, except they were not stupid. They didn’t run after heat and blood; they hid and took what food they wanted. They could think.

Since the days of the beginning of the end, the Others had taken territory, carving it up for themselves as they saw fit, each with their own group of mindless brain rots. You’d done well to avoid them. They preferred it when it was cooler now as the summer sun rotted their flesh faster than it could heal itself. The heat was, for once, your friend. It didn’t solve the issue of your boiling apartment, but air conditioning was a dream you had in the night now. You’d rather the heat than the memories of the last snow, perfectly preserving hibernating zombies under the ice in the wilderness while the city zombies roamed without the risk of rotting and collapsing in heaps of half broken bones and stringy flesh. The Others roamed wild in the winter, tearing people apart while it was cool before disappearing into the subways in the heat of spring and summer. Hopefully it meant you could search for a few more supplies on the next run. You needed some plant pots and seeds if you wanted to survive, and hopefully some more drinking water.

As you finished the can of peaches, you looked outside at the bright sunshine and grabbed for your bag by the couch. It was heavy with supplies, and you rummaged around for the small sandwich bags with pens for if you did manage to find seeds. You shoved the supplies together, along with a bottle of water and a few cereal bars before you grabbed the bush axe you had found, wrapped tightly with cord so you could hold it tightly and not send it flying. Failing that you had a bat and a small knife. You shouldered the backpack and mentally wrote a list as you headed to the door, pulling away your carefully made barricade. There was a small trap you had, and you set the bear trap across the threshold, covered by a sheet. The final touch was the swinging chair you set on the latch before you closed the door and locked it. The hallway was clear, you’d made sure to barricade each end, and you sighed softly before heading to the stairs and locking the doors behind you again, setting the boards back up against the door before you quietly headed towards the exit and out into the streets, into the blistering summer heat and rubble.

The streets were dead. Silent except for the rustling of rotting plastic flying across the abandoned roads. The infected were down below, their shuffling and groans emanating from the sewers below. The rest were dozing in cool shade, swaying back and forth, their eyes gone and the skin of their faces gaunt. The Others didn’t look like that, or so you had been told before the rest of the survivors disappeared. The Others were covered in burst vessels, bruised and pale, cold. Their noses bled and their eyes did too, but they were black eyed and vicious, their voices replaced with snarls and clicks. They were terrifying. You’d been lucky enough to avoid them so far. You took a deep breath of dusty air before tugging at the scarf over your head and peering through the mucky glass window of the hardware store. Inside was dusty and grubby, the shelves mostly empty at the entrance from the looting when it all started. Otherwise, it seemed empty. You hoped you were right as you headed towards the back fire exits and tried the handle bars.

The two around the side clicked but jingled with the sound of chains. They opened a couple of inches before the chains went taught and kept it from opening any further. You sighed and left them, closing the doors again before you carried on around the back of the building and found the employee entrance and exit. You took a breath and opened the door carefully. It swung open to reveal a dark warehouse. The cages of stock were mostly untouched. You grinned in victory before you turned on your pump power torch. It lit up the interior to reveal the cages of soil, wood and other items like watering cans and pots. Plastic pots, seeds and some planting soil. You needed those things, and a water purifier. If you were lucky, people had bunkered down here and you would be able to find some unopened water bottles. It was a long shot, but it was something you desperately needed besides food resources. You took a step inside and listened before grabbing a few bricks from outside and propping the door open, unaware of a pair of black eyes watching you.

The warehouse was devoid of infected, and you were thankful as you searched the aisles of cages and bins for what you wanted. Light, deep plastic pots and a small bag of soil. You needed to be able to carry your things home. You found a few plastic planters quickly and then set about finding seeds, coming through several tote boxes of packets before you grabbed vegetables and fruits of various kinds. They were barely in date, but hopefully something would grow. You shoved the seeds away and picked up your planters and a small watering can, smiling at the little elephant nose on it before fastening it to your bag. Shouldering a small bag of soil, you then quickly did a search for water bottles. To your delight there was a pack of 2L bottles. It was too much to carry but you took a couple in your bag and stashed the rest behind a brick pile outside to collect later. Making sure it was well hidden, you kicked the bricks away from the door and shouldered your bag and grabbed the pots once again before moving as quietly as you could back around to the front of the hardware store. It was still quiet, but the sun was hanging low in the sky, indicating that it was close to being dark. The dark brought cold, and that let the infected walk around without their limbs dropping from their bodies.

You reached your tower block before the night truly set in, dragging the soil up the stairs as you barricaded the doors between you and the exit. You reached your own floor and set the barricades against the door before you sighed quietly and reached for your own door. You unlocked it and carefully inched it open far enough to take the chair snare trap off the handle, lowering it before you leaned down and looped it back on the door. The bear trap was still set, and you inched around it before setting down the day’s findings in the middle of the living area. Your stomach gurgled with hunger, and you grabbed the box of protein and cereal bars you had pilfered, along with the survival food pouches. They were rich in carbohydrates and protein, so they would be good when you were very low on food. You stashed everything away before chewing on a protein fruit bar happily. You looked at the seed packets and smiled as the clouds moved over and thunder rumbled in the distance. It meant rain. You looked through the packets as you chewed and happily started to pick veggies to get growing before the rain rolled over. They needed to be out on the small balcony to get watered by the incoming bad weather.

The night was filled with the crash of lightning and the rumble of thunder, which covered the groans of the zombies wandering around below, rotting and stinking of the sewers. Still, you got a little sleep between the storms, sleeping lightly in the corner of the room, tucked underneath your little fortified area. The bed you’d used to make barricades and weapons if all else was lost. You woke with a start as the handle to your room jiggled up and down. The infected didn’t have such capacity. You rushed out of the small blanket and pillows to grab for your axe, strapping o your stolen police vest before you headed to the little entry way. Your bear trap and chair trap were still set. With a deep breath, you stood ready by the door as the lock opened with a clunk and the handle went down again. The door opened quickly, and you gasped at the creature stood in the doorway, heaving blood from its mouth before it leaned back, and fresh blood dripped from its black eyes. It was once a human, but it was now one of The Others. It clicked and stepped back to dodge the knife strapped chair, slamming the wood down from its pulley in the ceiling with one great slap of its hand. Black eyes looked forwards, and it clicked again, blood dripping from the corner of its mouth as it dashed forwards. Clumsily, its foot slid over the bear trap, and the trap snapped shut tightly around its ankle.

The Other howled a great series of violent clicks, tugging its leg before it fell to its knees and pulled at the metal, heaving the two rows of sharp teeth apart with shaking arms. You acted then, yelling as you slammed the axe down towards its head. He caught the handle, letting the bear trap snap back shut around his ankle as he fended you off, clicking and gurgling.

“What the fuck?” You gasped as you tugged your axe away violently and went to strike again, aiming for the temple. Again, the Other caught your swing, clicking in upset as the bear trap tore its flesh open to the bone, exposing the black stained tissue underneath its skin. An all too human face looked up at you as it pushed your axe away again, black eyes bleeding red. The Other was dark haired, the black tangled mess falling to just under his chin, though his eyebrows were sparse. The same seemed to have befallen his eyelashes, and you looked at the pale, almost alien face as you panicked. It was once a man. Slowly, it reached for the bear trap again.

“NO!” You shouted, and to your surprise, the Other looked at you, its bruised fingers releasing the mechanism for a second time as it gurgled more blood and licked its teeth and eyed the bare flesh exposed from your sleep wear.

The Others still craved flesh and blood. They still needed human cells to survive. Their own bodies were lacking in the vital building blocks of life. Stem cells. The had been seen licking the marrow from bones and pulling open children regularly in search of such treats. Those, it was thought, were the key to their regeneration. The Other looked at your legs and you hopped back a step, as though to hide the long bones full of marrow from his sight.

“Why…” You struggled to find your voice, “Why haven’t you killed me already?”

The Other looked at you, his head tilted far to the left, as though he was listening to you. The creature reached towards you and pointed then curled his fingers back towards himself and gurgled shortly before he reached back to his ankle again and tried to winch open the bear trap. His arms went tight as he heaved the metal teeth apart, slamming either side down onto the laminate. He was free. You took another step back and gripped the axe tighter as the Other got to his feet, his shattered bones clicking back together before the wound closed and his bruised, pale skin recovered the black flesh inside.

The Other clicked again, his head tilting left and right, fingers twitching and eyes rolling. He was looking at you, watching you breathe and move as he moved left and right on his legs. In moments, he was healed, but he still stood by the bear trap and watched. Blood dripped from his nose, weaving a trail over the cupids bow of his lips before it dripped over his sickly purple lips and into his mouth. His tongue dipped out to lick it away. His lips pealed backwards in a smile as he clicked and gurgled again. In a flash, he had moved towards you, his hands slamming either side of your head, pinning you against the wall. His teeth flashed by your skin, blackened and sharp, his mouth filled with clots of his own blood. Another gurgle came from his throat as he sniffed the left and right side of your neck with blood dripping from his nose. A drop landed on your chest, rolling over the skin and into your shirt as the Other clicked again, reaching for you with a grubby and bruised, blood-stained hand. The cold hand wrapped around your throat in a quiet threat, and the Other continued to look you up and down, fingers dragging against the warmth of your flesh.

They like warm flesh enough to come out in the sunlight.

“Are you going to cut me open and peel out my bones?” You asked as you looked at the door, avoiding the snarling face in front of you. Black eyes wiggled back and forth for a moment before the Other opened its mouth, the sharpened teeth flashing over your shoulder before it took an unsteady step backwards, ear tilted towards the windows. It was dark, and thunder clapped in the distance again before the sound of rain filled the apartment once more.

The Other shook his head slowly as his head twisted back, his back bending backwards as he slumped and peered out at the rain. He dragged his ruined foot behind him as he went to the window and looked down at the wet streets below, his black eyes watching the infected below wade through the water and rubbish. Another long, low click sounded from his throat before he turned his dark eyes on you again, blinking slowly before he picked up his leg and looked at the torn fabric of his jeans. The wound had healed, leaving a faint trace of dark red, almost black blood on his bruised skin. His arm moved, but this time it was to wipe the blood from his nose away on his sleeve. His arm came away streaked with fresh blood, but he still peered outside, looking at the meandering bodies outside in the rain.

“What are you looking at?” You asked from against the wall as the Other twitched by the window and clicked again. His black eyes moved from the glass to your face and then back again before he reached into his pocket. His dead fingers wiggled around for a while before he pulled out a long lanyard and presented the card to you. There was a dark-haired man on the picture, his hair slicked back, the sides shaved with a pair of glasses sat on his nose.

“Ji-woon.” You read carefully from where you were, “Is that who you were?”

The Other looked at you, studying your face before he raised a fist to his shoulder and nodded it with his head. You looked at the lanyard carefully, noticing the faded and stained academy logo. The badge confirmed it. He was a teacher before everything. Once he was human. Once he was a teacher. Now he was one of the Others.

“Why haven’t you killed me yet?” You asked again, “You want to eat my bone marrow, right?”

The Other looked at you again, blood dripping from his eyes and spit clinging to the side of his mouth. He opened his mouth, gurgled again, clicked his tongue and then moved back towards you. His black eyes caught the light of a lightning bolt and you reached for your axe with a small yelp.

The axe was thrown from your grasp before you could get a grip on it. The Other clicking as he dragged you by the wrists onto the floor. The axe clattered away, and you flinched as his fingers found the straps of the tactical vest, plucking them away violently before he dragged the material and plating away, leaving you exposed in just your pyjamas. Wiggling, you tried to free yourself from his grasp to no avail. Blood from his eyes dripped down the sides of his nose and onto the material of your shirt, staining it a deep, dark red. You closed your eyes as he let out another series of low clicks and drew closer to your shoulder. If he didn’t eat you, you would turn, just like the rest. A bite from an Other would make you one of his thrall or another like him. Another one of the Others.

“Kill me then. Just don’t let me turn. I want to die.” You whispered as you closed your eyes tight. The Other clicked again, a slow series of articulates noises that disappeared into a whine, not unlike a dog.

Then the arms caging you to the floor slipped downwards. His nails dragged away curls of wood as the Other let his hands travel, his fingers ghosting over your skin again in a meandering pattern downwards. You flinched as he pinched the flesh around your middle, tugging hard before they continued down your stomach and over your legs. He shifted backwards in order to look at your legs. His black eyes rolled over the flesh as spit, mixed with blood, leaked from the corners of his mouth. The slobber dripped over your calves, but you didn’t dare move as his cold fingertips traced under the arch of your foot and then grabbed hold of your ankle. He held it in a bruising grip, his fingers wrapped tightly around the flesh, strangling the blood flow. It hurt and you let out a cry as he twisted it around, tugging the joint awkwardly.

“Please.” You sniffled on the floor as he dragged you back towards him. You wiggled only to have his hand slam on your middle, winding you before he pressed you back to the floor again.

He opened his mouth, wheezed, coughed and then gurgled, “P-Please.”

Your eyes shot open as the Other released your ankle with a frown, his hairless eyebrows furrowed over his eyes. His lips quivered again, dipping up and down before he swallowed and shook, blood spraying from his nose. The droplets landed over your floor and streaked up the Other’s cheeks in wild, spider web patterns. Stumbling, he dragged himself upwards and touched his own lips.

“P-Please.” he gurgled again, a deranged smile spreading across his face.

“Don’t mock me.” You wept at him, wiping your face as you struggled for your axe, your fingers slipping around the handle as he leaped on you again. A smiling face covered in blood loomed over you before he gurgled, clicked and growled, holding his throat before angrily thumping at his Adams apple. The Other wheezed and coughed blood over your chest before he reached into his pocket again, teeth clicking, and pulled out the lanyard to show you. You shook your head before he tapped the photo on the plastic then tapped his own blood covered cheek.

You laid there in confusion, looking up at the drooling monster before you found your voice.

“That’s you before this. Ji-woon. You were a teacher.” You declared quietly, whispering into the thunderstorm.

The Other turned the card back to himself and touched the photo and then his own hair, his cold fingers tangling in the matted mess that hung around his cheeks. It was nothing like the slicked back, side shaven style he once wore, and he seemed to realise that as he tugged at the hair and pulled away a small clump. He wasn’t alive anymore. He was only alive thanks to his constant need to eat the flesh of the living. His victims stem cells and other living tissue was why he was a walking corpse beyond the others. An agonised cry left his lips, and the Other clutched at his own hair as he slumped over you, his teeth clicking dangerously close to your shoulder.

“You’re not him anymore.” You whispered again, reaching up with shaking hands. You sniffled as you reached and carefully took hold of his face, feeling the piercing coldness of his skin. Blood stuck to your palms as the Other raised it head enough to look from side to side, his black eyes quivering back and forth as he looked at your hands cupping his face.

“So, if you’re in there, Ji-woon, I’d rather you end me quickly...r-rather than play with me like a cat.” You sobbed.

The Other let the card of his lanyard clatter to the floor, the dirty fabric of the lanyard laid over wooden floor. There was another deafening crash of lightning and rumble of thunder as the Other stumbled backwards, his legs wobbling as his teeth clicked and ground together rhythmically. Click. Grind. Click. Grind. It was unsettling. You crawled backwards towards your weapon, only to pause as the room was lit up with lightning again, and you saw tears mingle with the blood leaking from his nose. Pink droplets dripped from his chin. The Other looked at you on the floor, then back to the windows, before he let out an unholy scream. With a cry, you covered your ears as the Other called for his thrall with tears the colour of blood dripping down his cheeks and neck. He shook his head and curled in on himself before howling again, another upsetting, glass shaking as he wailed over the sound of the storm. You reached for the axe again, crying as your ears rang with the noise of the Other’s screams. With a scream of your own, you launched yourself at him with the axe held high. Black eyes flashed before he caught you with open arms, grappling you around the middle in a hug. The axe jolted against his shoulder, falling from your grasp as you fell into his grasp.

The Other quivered again you, his jaw grinding before he rested his nose against your neck. He was icily cold, and he wheezed cold breaths over your neck, his lips sticky against your skin. He didn’t bite you. His lips parted to let him wheeze again and he dragged his nose over the skin before he sobbed, more tears dripping down his nose. The Other pulled away, his black eyes wide and wet with more unshed tears.

“I’ve…never seen an Other cry…” You confessed as he hugged you tighter. The thunder of footsteps sounded out on the stairs as the hoard smashed themselves against the barricades leading up to your hide away, “Fuck…”

The Other kept a tight grip on you before he too heard the hoard. His eyes roved your face before he pushed you towards the window and fumbled with the clasps. He opened the window and you peered at the rain, and then at his face. He said nothing but you knew what he wanted. The fire escape. You ducked out of the window and perched yourself in the rain, underneath the stairs to try and shield yourself as the thrall of the Other slammed themselves against your defences. The Other closed the window and entered your room again, standing in the middle of the room, his eyes wide as his creatures swarmed inside, moaning and groping at the walls, floors and him. A few paused by the window before bumping into something else and leaving. None of them cared about the Other. They couldn’t smell the warm flesh of the living, so they filtered away, down the corridors and stairs, falling and smashing things as they went.

As the noises died down, you peered through the metal stairs and looked at the rushing water below. The zombies slowly filtered out of the building, back into the cooler moist air. You sighed as you looked at them, but shivered, sniffling in the rain and cold. A moment later, the window rattled, and the Other peered out into the rain, his black eyes haunting as they shone in the light of the lightning. With a click, he held out his hand, and you watched him reach to scoop his hair from his eyes. It was a human gesture. It made him seem human. Then the lightning flashed and lit up the blood covering his face, neck and arms. His fingernails were dirty with dried blood and mud, but he helped you into the window and clicked again softly, as though it was a noise of comfort. It unsettled you, holding his freezing cold hand as you shivered inside of the apartment. The door was closed, barricade replaced, and the chair pinned back in place at the door. He was still bleeding, and he blinked his eyes, sending two drops of blood down the stained red lines either side of his nose. With a deep breath, you grabbed a tissue from your little den and reached up to wipe the red streaks away from his face. The Other flinched at your warm touch, but let out a wheeze, letting you wipe his face free from blood and gunk.

You pulled away with a small gasp at the sight of his pale, bruised skin. The blood vessels around his eyes ran in spidery black patterns before they disappeared under the pale, thin bruised skin of his face. He looked dead. Deathly pale and gaunt. His face had lost a lot of the colour and life it once had, though he appeared no more tired than he used to. The large eye bags seemed to be a constant factor. You reached for his ID card on the floor and carefully handed it to him. The Other held open his hand and took it from your grasp, gurgling at the picture of himself, or who he used to be, with interest. You let him hold it and watched at he wiped at his nose with the tissue you had accidentally give him alongside it. In a mockery of what you did, he slid the tissue over his nose and cheeks before he gurgled and smile with blood clot covered teeth. He wasn’t human. You repeated that as he passed you the sticky tissue back. It was covered in blood and clots.

“Are you still in there Ji-woon?” You asked the Other quietly.

The Other shook his head as he raised the card again. It span in his grasp, giving you flashes of the image of his human face, “P-Please.” he wheezed at you, “...Help.”

“That is you. You can’t become him anymore.” You said carefully, softening the blow with a dab of the tissue under his eyes. He caught your wrist with a scowl, his unnatural eyes wiggling in their sockets, rolling left and right as he opened his mouth to expose his black dyed mouth full of clots.

“P... Please.” he wheezed again.

“I can...make you look like him but you’re not human anymore.” You tried to tug your wrist free to no avail.

“Look.” The Other held up the ID card and tapped it again before he let you go and looked at the red marks on your arm mournfully, “J-Ji...woon.”

“The fact you can even speak amazes me.” You confessed as you looked at the bruises and blood covering him. His clothes were dirty, matted and torn, exposing his arms which had been unnaturally made larger. He was a predator of muscle and smarts now, who desperately wanted to be human again, “I can help, so long as you can keep those zombies away from me, okay?”

The Other nodded, drooling as he pointed to his ears and mouth.

“Those wails, yes. You can control them and keep them away while I help you. That and you’re big enough to just tear them open...I saw an Other do that once.”

The Other blinked owlishly but nodded once before you rummaged for a bottle of water and pointed to the bathroom, “First let’s clean you up, huh?”

He only nodded and followed at your heels like a drooling, blood covered dog.

You managed to get a small basin to fill with water and then awkwardly got the Other to strip his clothes off. They were full of holes and disgusting. The neck was covered with blood and stiff with mud and blood. You bagged them and tied it closed as the Other stood, swaying on his dark bruise coloured feet. His mouth was dripping with drool again as he turned and looked at the water bowl in your hands.

“Come on. Sit in the tub.” You asked gently as you guided his cold body into the bath. He sat quietly, gurgling on his own blood as you fetch a towel and a small flannel. You dipped the flannel into the water and lathered it with soap before pressing it to his face. His black eyes quivered before he closed them peacefully and let you wipe the grime from his skin. Each swipe revealed more skin like cracked porcelain underneath the blood. The bruising spread from black coloured veins in his face and you were careful to clean around his nose and mouth before setting to the rest of him. It was even more embarrassing to get a zombie to clean his own privates, but something in him remembered and you left him to it before returning to try and scrub his hair.

Most of his hair was dead, the ends snapped and fraying in clumps. So, it was with a heavy heart that you washed it and let it soak with conditioner before snipping away most of the ends. It was shorter, in a wild mane over the top of his head and the shaved sides, but he seemed happy as he peered at himself in your small mirror. You tried to tame it backwards, but the shorter pieces of hair pinged out at awkward angles. He didn’t seem to care as he wiped at his own face, clicking happily at himself in the reflection in the grubby water. He was like a child almost. Entertained by bottles, colours and smells, despite the irony blood leaking from his nose again. He wiped it away with a tissue, wet hands dampening the balled-up paper before he peered over the side of the tub and watched you pull free a few sets of clothes.

“Here. You can’t wear those rags…even though I know you don’t get cold.” The Other stood and looked at the clothing before his hands reached for a khaki green fleece. He rubbed the soft material and happily pulled it over his head before he dressed his bottom half as well.

When he was finished and dressed you let him walk out of the bathroom. He was still bleeding from his eyes and nose but the cleanly appearance gave him an almost human look. The Other clicked and touched the top of his hair, feeling the strands before he looked at you with wide black eyes. In a sudden burst of speed, he was in your face, his teeth clacking together in front of your nose. Snap. Grind. Snap. Grind. Snap. He clicked his teeth rapidly in front of your face, drool stringing between his teeth and lips and dribbling out the corners of his mouth.

“You’re still one of them, huh?” You told him as he gurgled and coughed, fingers dancing by his sides as he twisted his head and twitched violently hard, teeth gnashing in his mouth, “You still want to eat me...”

There wasn’t a fix to his own nature. You watched him retch and fight himself before you moved through to your bedroom and rummaged through the boxes for something to use. You smiled when you found the ball gag. It was a simple thing, made of tough leather and a supple ball attached to simple metal rings. It fastened with a belt loop style fastening. It would be hard for him to chew through at least.

The Other looked at you curiously as you returned with the gag hanging from your fingers. Something in his face twisted, as though he maybe recognised the item, but you watched his fingers twitch again and knew it was the right choice.

“I know what you might think, but this is purely to stop you eating me, okay?” You told him as you opened the fastening and presented the ball to his lips. The Other cocked his head, blinked, and then opened his mouth to accept the ball. You watched him chew the ball like a horse does a bridle before he then settled and let you fasten the back closed tightly. He sniffed, drops of blood dripping from his nose as he ground his teeth into the gag, his mouth parted and the clicks he made gurgled and muffled. It would also stop him from turning on you and summoning a hoard of infected to tear you open. It was a double protective measure. The Other shifted and touched the cool leather wrapped around the back of his head. He could easily undo it if he wanted to, but he let his hands drop and plonked himself down by your door, peering back at you as he pointed to your little bed and tent.

“Don’t eat me in my sleep.” You joked. The Other rolled his eyes as you climbed into your layers of blankets and cushions. He didn’t look at you, but stared at the door, cross legged and clicking softly to himself around the gag in his mouth.

The next morning you woke up to the light in your eyes, and a clicking sound from by the window. As you opened your eyes you were greeted with a curious gurgle from the Other. His black eyes blinked bloody tears down his cheeks before he tilted his head and ground his teeth against the gag in his mouth. Blood painted the sides of his mouth and drool had dried in the corners of his mouth where the o-rings sat.

“Good morning to you too.” You groaned as the Other clicked in front of you and wiggled his jaw from side to side, his eyes looking over you. The exposed flesh had his mouth watering again, and you quickly hid the skin under a blanket before crawling past him and heading to the bathroom. The creature’s hungry eyes followed your legs, and the Other prowled across the wood after you, like a small dog, his gaze fixed on the exposed skin of your calves and ankles.

“M-M-Morn…ing-g.” The Other babbled around the gag in his mouth as his fingers inched along the wood, chasing after your feet. You stopped as his hand wrapped around your ankle. The cold fingers pressed into your flesh, testing the give before you dragged yourself free and slammed the door in his face. The Other grunted as his nose was smashed against the wooden door.

When you came back out later, dressed and clean, the Other was perched by the door again, sat on the balls of his feet, perched in a crouch as he looked at the handle. The knob was twitching. You took a deep breath and carefully reached for your axe, holding the handle tightly in your grasp. The handle twitched again before the door thumped and the latch unhooked. The Other watched the door creak open. A rotten hand curled around the wooden door, and you crept forwards a step before the Other clicked and launched himself at the arm. It took you a moment to realise that his mouth was full of the gag, but it was too late. The Other grappled the infected by the neck, throwing it against the column outside of the door before his arms bulged and he slammed its head backwards, once, twice, thrice, and painted the dirty white concrete with blood, bone and brains. The blood sprayed up the concrete as he continued hammering the creatures head backwards. The initial crack became a wet thud which dissolved into a slick noise of blood and flesh as the Other dug his hands into the cranium and dragged it open, scooping his bruised fingers into the goop. His teeth gnashed on the gag, and you covered your mouth as he pulled at his own cheeks, splitting the skin so he could stick his gore covered fingers into his mouth. He gurgled happily as he scooped the brain into his mouth, followed by the sickening crunch of the zombie’s femur under his foot. He twisted the legs free at the knee and punched his way through to the bone.

Rotten marrow dripped over his fingers, and he groaned sadly, tossing away the bleeding leg in favour of finishing the obliterated head. He struggled with the eyeballs, and you watched, gipping, as he weaved one behind his gag, through the tear at the corner of his lips, and popped it between his teeth.

“What the fuck…” You gasped behind the Other.

The Other’s eyes snapped to you, and he gurgled happily, covered in blood again, as he chewed his meal contently. As you watched him eat, you made your way back into your apartment, shaking as you uncovered a set of reigns. He was still eating as you came back and weaved them around his head and attached the ends to the O-rings of the gag. With a tilt of his head, he peered back over his shoulder and looked you in the eyes, his bloodied fingers stroking the leather up and down before you gave the back of the reigns a gentle tug.

The Other gave a grunt and a small cry, his black hair flying out of place as he tugged at the reigns, back towards his meal. His hands stretched towards the flesh, grabbing for the brains just out of reach.

“We made a deal.” You whispered as you hauled him backwards, “You want to be a human, Ji-woon, right?!”

The Other froze, his fingers pressed into the mess on the floor by the zombie’s head. They danced in the blood for a moment before he looked up at you, his eyes manic and his hairless brows furrowed.

“J-Ji…woooon.” He gurgled before he slumped backwards and grabbed at your trouser leg, his cold fingers burying themselves in the fabric. The Other gave a small wail, burying his head in your thigh as he stroked your legs and shuddered against you.

You reached down carefully and petted his hair, “Humans don’t eat…that. But we need you to live and… I know you’re not human, but we need to think about how this is going to work, okay?”

He didn’t acknowledge you, but leaned his head into your petting, pushing his choppy hair into your grasp as he clutched at you like a child.

“We’ll work through this mess, together, I promise…Ji-woon.”

#zombie x reader #male monster x reader #monster x reader #infected x reader #monster bf x reader #male zombie x reader #gender neutral reader #zombie x gender neutral reader #monster bf #monster reader insert #monster boy #monster romance #my writing #originaly work

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eepytheartist · 4 years ago

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TTTE: Magic Beyond the Engine

Greetings guys, gals, nonbinary pals and everyone in between. Welcome to the Information Page of TTTE: Magic Beyond the Engine, where you can get context to whatever the hell I post on here. There’s a lot and much is subject to change, so buckle up butter cups because we’re going for a ride.

Table o’ Contents

1. Basic Story

2. Characters

3. Personal Headcanons

4. Canonical Relationships within TTTE: MBtE

5. Other Notes

6. Link

I) Basic Story

Several years ago in the year 20XX, a facility located in [REDACTED] was doing experiments involving a mysterious golden substance and what it could do for the human race. Its goal was to eliminate the need for high-maintenance engines to save money. However, much of what was done ended up being a total flop, except for one. A little girl, Madison [REDACTED] was the only successful trial the facility was able to produce. This girl didn’t know why or how she even got here, but knew that her family didn’t want her, and instead gave her up to this [probably very illegal] facility. For years the scientists running the experiment pushed her to her limits, training her to pull lines of cars weighing several tons. They were delighted by what she could do. They had finally compacted the strength and speed of an engine into a human. However, bad luck struck as the facility went belly up, when Madison was 21. News of the facility spread, and so did news about her. Humanity didn’t take her well, and she was labeled an outcast. Though, in the light of things with her negative fame, Sir Topham Hatt found out about her and thought she’d be a wonderful addition to the railway along with the new tank engine he just bought! So she was picked up by this cheeky little shit, and her story working alongside sentient engines unfolded.

II) Characters

A) Thomas

The one who picked up Maddy. He was awfully confused by her, but respected her nonetheless. Still his cheeky self that everyone seems to just adore, Thomas quickly became best friends with her, protecting her whenever she needed it. Thomas sometimes gets a little too cheeky, and pushes her off the edge. Pranks ensue and Thomas is usually left bumbling for apologies. Who knew something so small could be so dangerous. He also commonly gets called ‘Tommy’ by the wee lass, something he absolutely despises. It only fuels her need to use it.

1) When human, Thomas stands at about 5′ 7″ or 170 centimeters. He’s clad in a simple hoodie that matches his paintwork with a big 1 on the back, and plain khakis. He wishes he could have something else, but he doesn’t get paid and his driver and fireman refuse to lend him money. His hair is fluffy and rather short and is a few shades darker than his paintwork. Maddy likes to braid it when she’s bored and he hates it. Her favorite part though, besides honking his bulbous nose like he was a clown like she does with James, is his eyes. They were a beautiful shade of ocean blue. If he wasn’t such a shit, she’d get lost. He can’t brag though, she basks in all the colors her friends have.

“Why does she get to swear and I don’t? It’s not fair!” ~T

“Maddy’s an adult, Thomas.” ~E

“Well so am I you old fart!” ~T

B) Maddy

Little Maddy. Don’t call her Madison, she hates it with a passion and refuses to explain why. She currently stands at the age of 21, but looks much younger. She had overheard at the facility that a side effect of the mystery stuff was that she aged like an engine, so she could be around for hundreds of years if she wasn’t stupid. At just 5′ 3′’ or 160 centimeters, Maddy is the shortest out of all the engines on the railway, even Bill and Ben. Her hair is a medium shade of brown, kind of long, and it mostly covers one of her eyes, which are, as Thomas describes, “As if the sky could make steel.”. Shy when you first meet her, Maddy is quick to come out of her shell and be just as much of a shithead as Thomas and as angry as James, if not worse than the two combined. Her outfit was rather simple, a dark scarlet hoodie with her number on it, and dark grey or black leggings. She liked it that way, she looked good and it was flexible and comfy. When she first arrived with Thomas, she felt something click with James, despite him being an utter jackass to her. After begrudgingly showing her around and having to shunt trucks, the duo became good acquaintances. It wasn’t until after James’ accident that the two became best friends, being asshats together and generally being a happy sight. He’s the one Maddy is generally seen with if she’s not working on her own. Soon enough, though, something started brewing within her heart.

“Ah crumbs, he’s in a mood.” ~T

“James is always in a mood.” ~M

“Fuck both of you.” ~J

C) Edward

Ah, Old Iron. He was there when Thomas and Maddy first arrived to the island. Like most that laid eyes on her, his main worry is that she was itty bitty. Usually calm and collected unless something goes majorly wrong, Edward was quick to unknowingly swoop her under his wings. When Thomas started poking fun at him for being fatherly, Edward nearly keeled over. An engine can’t father a human, can they? He guessed they could as soon after Maddy just gave a shrug and accepted the Number 2 as her father, after being given away by her own. It didn’t take long for Edward to actually father her, asking how her day was, sometimes folding her laundry, comforting her, scolding Maddy James, y’know, dad stuff. He earned the name ‘Dadward’ from her, and his heart melts every time she says it.

1) As a human, Edward looks like a kindly old man and a youngin’ at the same time. He stands just a bit shorter than James at 6′ or 183 centimeters. With short, almost midnight-blue hair, Edward is the perfect gentleman. He even has a small pair of gold glasses that set snuggly on his nose. His eyes are a lovely shade of steel blue, something he gets flustered about when Maddy compliments him. His outfit consists of a white dress shirt with a dark blue tie, a blazer matching his paintwork with his number on his right arm and dark grey dress pants. He’s not usually in his human form, but when he is, Maddy unusually asks for a lot of hugs..

“Will you two leave her be?” -E

“But look how red her face is!” P&T

“FUCK THE LOT OF YOU-” ~M

D) James

Ah, James. One half of what his friends call “The Red Disasters”. He’s still his normal, vain ass self. He has a soft side, everyone knows it but virtually no one can get to it. Except Maddy, who can get to it quite easily. Though, when they first met, all he did was make fun of her. Well, they made fun of each other, but still. They had the complete opposite of favorite jobs, they still do and always will. James loves pulling coaches, she hates it. She loves trucks, he despises it and always tries to weasel his way out. It usually doesn’t work. He’s earned many nicknames from her: Jamsey, Jimbo, Buzzy, Buzzy Butt, the list grows. Two of them came from the mistake about telling her the story about the bees, the other.he’s not too sure. What he is sure of, though, is that Jimbo has spread than to more than just her and he hates it. It fuels her though, so he’s gotta be careful. Originally, though, James didn’t know what to think of her. After the accident, his boiler felt all fluttery and he pushed it down to just being ill. He had to learn the hard way about what romantic love was. He knew how to flirt, it got people to love him more! But what that flirting did, though, he was completely foreign to.

1) At 6′2′’ or 188 centimeters, James stands as the third tallest among the main eight. When he still had his black livery, James’ human form basically had him looking like what I can simply describe as a butler, though he had a vest and a red tie instead of all black. After, though, he had quite the change. His long, black hair now had dyed red tips and his right ear had a cute little heart piercing. Hair covers most of his left eye, which is what Maddy lovingly described as, “You managed to make the color of red rust beautiful.”. He thinks his hair looks cool only according to Maddy. He usually wears a long-sleeve, dark red button-up shirt with three dark grey stripes on both arms and grey pads on his shoulders. His number was sewn onto his left breast. Maddy pokes fun at him for looking like a band geek, but she nonetheless likes it. His outfit is simply finished off with grey pants. Sometimes, though, he’s seen wearing a solid red hoodie that Maddy got him. He won’t admit that it’s his favorite piece of clothing.

“Honey Bee, you’re acting irrational-” ~J

“DON’T MAKE ME GET THE BEES-” ~M

“NOT THE BEES-” ~J

E) Gordon

There isn’t much to say about Gordon. He’s his usual, grumpy self. We all know deep down he’s a good engine, though. Gordon’s...rather indifferent about Maddy. He doesn’t dislike her, but he doesn’t see her appeal either. Nonetheless, she’s an awesome part of the team. She does the most important job: listening to James bitch so they don’t have to. Of course, though, like the rest of the team, he’ll defend her if need be. Gordon has a heart, he just doesn’t like to show it.

1) Gordon’s the tallest, at 6′8′’ or 203 centimeters. Everything about his human form is perfect. His hair is just a tad darker than Edward’s and a teeny bit shorter. He keeps it slicked back most of the time, but it’s hilarious when he has bed head. Maddy got a picture once and sent it to James just in case he forced her to delete it. Just like most of her friends, Gordon’s eyes were her favorite, they were a blue similar to his hair, but a few shades lighter. Maddy remembers a time she complimented them and Gordon puffed away all red in the face. His outfit consists of a three piece suit, in his paintwork color of course, a white shirt and a red tie. His number is on his right breast.

“The Express isn’t that important.” ~M

“Why I’ll tell you-” ~G

“Is her intent just to piss him off?” ~E

“Yes. It’s both of ours.” ~J

E) Henry

Maddy’s favorite engine besides James. Thomas is insulted that he isn’t even considered one of her favorites. Henry gushed over her the first time she came. He must protect the small. Love the small. If James suddenly didn’t exist, Henry would be her go-to. She adored puffing through the forest with him, looking at all the trees and wildlife. Maddy would take pictures of flowers she’d find while strolling through and Henry would just ooze over them. Once she showed him a photo of a squirrel holding a wild flower under an oak tree whose leaves were just started to turn different colors, and the big engine cried with joy. He requested she print the picture out so his driver could carry it for him, and she did. It was his absolute favorite.

1) 6′6″ or 198 centimeters, what a height to be. At second tallest, Henry is the definition of a gentle giant. His resting face looks nervous, but he’s usually not nervous at all. His hair is a forest green, not too short, not too long. Actually, Maddy’s favorite part of him is his chicken-wing bangs. Of course she loves his eyes, which are a lovely jade green, but the bangs take the cake, Whenever they hang out, she likes to play with them when he talks about plants. He finds it comforting. His outfit is literally just a more modest and fancier workman’s outfit, but matching his livery, with his number on his right breast. It made sense, since he was usually one to do heavy work.

“You don’t like the rain either?” ~H

“The last time I went out in the rain I derailed Percy.” ~M

“Why were you even out in the rain!? You’d catch a cold!” ~E

“Fat Man said I was the only one available and told me to suck it up. I did catch a cold. James tried making me soup, remember?” ~M

“What do you mean tried..?” ~H

“He forgot to cook the chicken beforehand. I got salmonella.” ~M

“So that’s why you were bedridden and wouldn’t talk to him for a week after..” ~H

G) Percy

Ah, little shit number two. Thomas’ partner in crime. When he first met Maddy when he arrived, he teased her relentlessly for being short-tempered and short in general. After giving him the silent treatment though, Percy was a bit nicer. He and Thomas still tease her plenty enough, but they tease about things she usually won’t kick their asses for. He likes Maddy now. Plain and simple.

1) Second shortest, 5′5″ or 165 centimeters. He holds those two inches with pride. Percy uses them against Maddy very frequently. Maddy won’t hurt him though. She physically can’t. His little baby face, those big ol’ light green eyes, that short light green hair, his cute little outfit [which consists of a shamrock colored shirt, black suspenders held up by gold buttons, and dark green shorts]. If he was any smaller Maddy would die. James sometimes gets jealous by how much she gushes over Percy, but doesn’t exactly blame her. Percy’s adorable and he damn well knows it.

“Ha, you’re short.” ~P

“You’re short too.” ~M

“I’m taller than you.” ~P

“Won’t be for long when I take your kneecaps.” ~M

H) Emily

Ah, Emily. The first girl engine she met. They made damn good friends, too. They gossiped whenever they had a chance. Maddy usually talked about shit James has said, and Emily just gossips about anything and everything. They were will to throw hands for each other, with Emily more willing to for Maddy. Maddy would throw hands just as an excuse to do it. Emily still loves her, though.

1) Emily currently stands at 5′8″ or 173 centimeters. She isn’t as girly as she looks, either. Her hair is short, with half of it buzzed off. Maddy would describe her as someone punk-ish. Of course Emily’s personality doesn’t reflect that at all, she just chose to look like it. She’s the only other engine besides James to have piercings, usually with two black on on the top of her ears and hoop earrings to pay honor to her engine build. Emily was a little more casual than her friends, usually seen wearing a simple green dress matching her livery. Her eyes were a very dark grey, almost black, with flecks of brass scattered in there. Maddy told her once that she was the prettiest girl she’s every seen and Emily nearly crashed.

“James being a bitch again?” ~Em

“What do you mean again?” ~M

“I can hear you.” ~J

“I know.” ~M

I) Others

Other characters consist of secondary characters within the story who do not play as big a role. There are a few who teeter on the edge between primary and secondary characters, such as Duck, Donald, Douglas, Diesel, Diesel 10, and Lady. They play an important role, but not enough so to have their own descriptions. Diesel’s..y’know, Diesel, the twins think of Maddy as their long-lost sister, Duck..well, they like to poke fun at James together when he’s not droning about the Great Western Railway, Diesel 10′s goal is to get her to say something about Lady, and Lady...no one’s really sure yet. Then, as of right now for true secondary characters there is Oliver, Toad, BoCo, Bill, Ben, Mavis, and Salty. There’s more to come, but that’s what I got right now.

III) Personal Headcanons

-The engines can eat and taste in both forms. They don’t know where it goes when they’re engines and don’t feel like finding out.

-James learned to cook for Maddy when she couldn’t for herself.

-For the longest time, James was the only engine with his own phone.

-He learned hip language and Maddy started regretting every choice in her life.

-Maddy comes to Salty for him to tell her stories when she’s bored.

-Rain is Maddy’s one weakness since she has no way of covering herself.

-She, along with her friends as humans, run with skates that reflect their wheel configuration. The wheels retract when not in use. [I’m thinking about switching to roller blades, we’ll see.]

-Maddy intentionally starts beef with the Scottish Twins because she thinks the fighting is hilarious.

-Thomas will occasionally beg Maddy for a cotton candy sucker. Specifically cotton candy. She doesn’t know why either.

-Thomas initiated a prank war with her once. He lost.

-Gordon once bet her that she couldn’t pull his heavy goods. His driver was out 30 bucks because of him.

-Maddy tortures Duck with duck puns.

-Maddy still trick-or-treats for free candy.

-Emily once convinced Maddy to derail James for the fun of it. She was subsequently chased around the island.

-James is the ultimate flirt and he uses that against Maddy, who flusters very easily.

-Percy loves Teddy Grahams.

-Edward likes loves to tell others about his daughter. Maddy does not. He is becoming too dad-like.

-The Scottish Twins know damn well that Maddy simps for their accents and they intentionally use it against her if they can.

-Maddy knows about Diesel’s ducklings. It’s the only reason she decides to befriend him.

-James utterly hates Diesel for many many reasons.

-Like many others headcanon, Thomas can’t cook. He fucked up a cup of ramen once and Maddy still refuses to let him live it down.

-Edward refuses to let Thomas and Percy swear. They hate it. James and Maddy know this. They swear more because they can’t.

-James and Maddy are at a tie for worst potty mouths. The twins don’t count. That’s not fair.

-Oliver thought Maddy was an engine for like a month before he met her.

-Maddy dislikes the Mainland. Not the engines there. They’re cool.

-If Maddy isn’t around, James sleeps in her bed with her hoodie.

-Henry worries for Maddy all the time. More and Edward and James combined. He just doesn’t show it.

-Gordon says he has no opinion on Maddy, but he really does like her.

-No one knows where Maddy’s really from. She won’t tell them either. Not even James or the Fat Man really know.

-Want more? Just ask!

IV) Canon Couples within TTTE: MBtE

~James/Maddy

~Edward/Henry

~Emily/Thomas

~D10/Lady (In the past)

~~We’ll see about others as the story progresses~~

V) Notes

- Lady is the reason the engines have sentience. She is not the reason for their human forms. That will be explained later.

-Maddy is much more resilient than an average human, which is why most accidents don’t just straight up kill her.

-As stated before, Maddy can now live for hundreds of years if she’s careful enough. She won’t age as fast as a normal human, so who knows how long she’ll be baby-faced. Not that she cares, more opportunity to trick-or-treat.

-The engines can get frisky, but no babies. Don’t even think about it.

-Maddy will eventually give in and buy beds for all her friends to give them an opportunity to sleep like she does.

VI) Link

Silly me, I forgot to give a link to my story! Shame on me for making you search, that won’t happen again, here you go!

Sodor’s New Worker

________________________________________________________________

And that’s really it. If you have any questions, please please please please please ask!

UPDATED: August 3, 2021

#sodor's new worker #TTTE: MBtE #ttte james #ttte maddy #ttte thomas #ttte edward #ttte emily #ttte percy #ttte henry #ttte gordon #ttte oc

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katgreeves · 4 years ago

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a case of the biggest cards (a tua holiday fic)

Cards, muffins on the way, and a slightly tired (tipsy) family that have competitive and snarky written in their bones and running in their veins. A sure fire way for total absolute mayhem on earth. Oh this is gonna be fun. Klaus can't wait."

Or: The Hargreeves make the best of their royal fucking up of the timeline and spend Christmas Eve together at last.

heyyyyyyy @a-fucking-velociraptor it’s me your secret santa for @secret-santa-klaus!! wanted to do a little sibling bonding fic for you and then I went overboard LMAOOO I hope you like it anyways and happy holidays!!! I hope you’re having the best times this season!!

it’s also on ao3 to read for your reading pleasure!! (if you have an ao3 acc by all means lemme know so I can gift it to you on there!)

Fine hands move quickly to practiced motions. Long, nimble fingers sent cards flying as they shuffled around in the deck.

The five of them were all sitting on the floor, wrapped around a worn coffee table and leaning against the sofa and armchairs around them. Assorted pillows strewn about to comfort them, they were slowly going through the 3 bottles of whatever shitty drink they had trusted Diego with getting for the night. One of them was already empty.

Since the whole Dooms-didn’t/Apoca-nope-lypse/The Sparrow Academy timeline fuckery to the highest of degrees, they were all pretty much left in the dust. After a not so great first encounter with the “Sparrows” (none of them had even begun to comprehend the big emo looking elephant in the room, let alone address it to each other) they were promptly kicked our of the Hargreeves mansion. It took a while after that, but eventually they found a flat somewhere in the city for cheap to hide out in. The place wasn’t really cozy, totally not big enough for all of them together, but it was a roof over their heads to keep them safe enough till they could figure how to bring back their own timeline and finally have this behind them once and for all.

If that even existed anymore.

Klaus leered tiredly at the movements. Had it been himself dealing with the deck, he’s sure it would not be nearly as graceful, instead the cards would probably move clumsily with his fidgety hands and scrawny fingers, spewing all over the place. Then again, it might just be the signature “Rumor Charm.” Alli made everything look elegant, it was one of her best skills, one she gained with no powers, no rumors, that she did without even trying. It was just her.

“Allison. Darling sister of mine. While this in no means to rush you at all, I just want you to know that I’ve murdered entire Commision boards in shorter amounts of time that you’re taking right now.”

That, the source of the uncannily on cue quip, was Five. The grouch wasn’t letting up his smartass act up for one bit, even for the goddamn holidays. How predictable.

“First, you’ve only killed one commision board. Second, this is a Christmas Eve party, aka fun night party, aka we are not having discussions of our more colorful histories for one night party, please-”

“Can we actually start the game? I hear Santa hates it when he's’ trying to do his job and sneak like a ninja or whatever only to see six idiots in a small dingy, dark as shit living room bickering over cards and oh wait- they've been at this since when?”

All eyes focused on whom that voice belonged to, which was Diego. While he was working at defrosting himself of his bitter and snarky facade, it didn’t really help that he was both tired and annoyed as shit at the wait right now.

“Quite a bold accusation that Santa wants to see any of us after all the shit we’ve pulled Di.”

“Even if he did, does he even know how to find us now? You know, technically not existing anymore and all-”

“What did Allison just say guys-”

“Hey Vanny, we’re just-”

“Okay, I think it’s time we get this show on the road shall we?” Allison pointedly interrupted with, brandishing the now shuffled deck of cards to veer the group to their original intentions (She does that a lot nowadays).

“Thank goodness. At the rate that we’re going it’s only a matter of time before we become itty bitty old grannies sitting on porches in rocking chairs.” Vanya crooned, scrunching up her face at the end to emphasize her point.

“Five’s essentially a grandparent already Vanya-”

“Well, he’ll just become a jurassic fossil I gue-”

PWACK

“Five!”

“That-” he gestured to the pen in Vanya’s hand he has just whacked her in the face with (Klaus had admittedly, bursted out a sharp spark of laughter at the sight) “is what happens when you are the only one I tolerate slightly more than average and you use this weakness to lead me to a complete and utter betrayal.”

“Betrayal?”

“You know, we actually promised Luther we’d let him bake in peace this time.”

Indeed, as Allison had oh so clearly reminded them, while the others were engaging in whatever was going on right now, Luther was trying baking some red velvet muffins (“No, don’t look at me like that, this is a totally normal amount of food coloring to put in the batter. They have to be the brightest red guys! Come on, it’s Christmas!”) in the kitchen close by. He was in there a lot nowadays, essentially becoming their new Grace in terms of their meals. He claimed it was a cathartic process for him, and in return they all just enjoyed the free meals.

“Jokes on Luther if he’s dumb enough to actually belive that.”

The last comment earned an eruption of laughs all around the table, a scandalized “Vanny!” here and there. Such was expected from their Vanya, the now youngest of the group (and isn’t that wild? Their entire lives were dictated by nothing else but the fact they were quite the peculiar, unlucky septulets and time travel and fucking Dallas took even that away from them). A complete contrast from the Vanya that was so long ago, sarcasm and laughter were her now weapons of choice as she’d talk and tease non stop about anything with a grin. Honestly, good for her.

With cards now flying across the table, it was time for the real shit. The game was one that Klaus had actually taught them. It was one of the many “souvenirs” that he had brought back from Vietnam. He had learnt it, along with the rest of his squadron from one Private Darren Teow. “T” for short, although the boys called him “Croc” after an embarrassing incident where he was the main star of a disaster march across a riverbank (oh boy was that a wild day).

His parents had come to the United States back in the early 40’s for a chance of something new, and for their son, a chance of something better, a life of his own that could be so grand.

“And what a real great life this is, isn’t it?” He had said one night, a one in a kind night where the jungles were silent of the noises that shook them all for once and instead was filled with the laughter and cheering of the squadron as days old beer was being passed around like candy. Raising his can in the air, the bitter cynicism in his voice rang clear. “Trying to save my head from blowing up to bits everyday on the floor these fucking jungles. A goddamn blast if I’ve ever seen one. Three cheers for the Land of the Fucking Free-”

It wasn’t played as much as a usual game of poker, but whenever there was a fleeting moment here and there, or nobody had any cigs left to bet after Katz snatched them all (Rule Number 15 of the 173rd: Do not let that All-American face and charm fool you. That man will have your rations in his godly chiseled arms and the palms of his hands before you can even put down a card).

Sometimes, when he and Dave were cooped up in some motel room in Saigon during leave, trying to avoid another Sky Soldier who would try and drag them along for a night on the town, they’d decide to play it together, just the two of them. And by that it meant Dave would offer to play a round of poker, and Klaus would beg to play this instead for a “fun change of pace, you know?”

“You mean, when you don’t want to eat utter shit at the hands of your awfully gifted beloved and can’t face the fact that you can’t keep a straight face for shit?”

“Be thankful you have a god gifted jawline from Adonis himself, or else I would have busted out of this motel aeons ago.”

“What can I say if I learnt it from the best?”

“Fuck you Kitty Katz.”

“I love you too, starlight.”

“That’s it, you are disqualified for hitting me with that sappy shit. I love you too.”

He smiled, chuckling softly at the memory as his hands reached for the familiar chain of cold steel around his neck, the motion second nature at this point. God, Klaus missed that dork so much.

Teow had called the game Big Two. At the very core of it, spades’ the best, then hearts, then clubs, and last and very least: diamonds. The bigger the better. Except for two. That little fucker gets you far. Put down as many as you can at rapidfire speed. First one to finish their cards in hand is winner winner chicken dinner!

He wishes Ben were here. God knows how much that little shit would be enjoying this right now.

The cards were swiftly dealt. He inspected his hand, as the others were talking about theirs. On top were the first two cards, two threes.

The game carried on as a normal one, duets of cards spilling on the table. And then, a lull as yet again his siblings had started another feud. This time, Diego was convinced Five was cheating somehow. Hell, knowing the little menace, he probably was.

Klaus must have dozed off somewhere, because it was only when a hand slammed into his shoulder that his head whipped back to the table, about to mutter a quick apology to what he expected were a circle of tired faces. Instead, he saw a cacophony of grim expressions. Something was going awry.

“What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Klaus-”

“You know, the last time I checked, I was the Seance around here-”

“Klaus-”

Klaus mocked a gasp, dramatically placing a hand on his chest as he feigned a look of shock on his face. “No! Don’t tell me you all are putting a Lila on me-”

“Five’s on his last card!” they all exclaimed, exasperated by Klaus’ usual antics.

Oh. Well, that's where the problem quickly emerged. Shit.

“Put something! Anything! Don’t let him win!” Allison shrieked.

“How can she? He’s got some damn strong cards there!” Diego added.

They had to be pulling his leg. Already? Things had just started getting good around here. Or you know, Klaus assumes it was before he was lost in wherever the fuck his mind went. But alas, a hesitant glance at the table and indeed, on the stack of cards, were two aces. Goddamn aces. Scouring through his hand, a sigh came over the medium. Those were some goddamn miracle cards.

Again, if only Benjamin was here. Sure, after their last poker fiasco, the little shit would probably decide to just screw him over again cause he had such a fun ride the last time around. But still, it was at least better than nothi-

Wait. Eyes perked up as Klaus saw a lifeline of a card in his hand.

Aces may have been big.

But they weren’t the biggest.

And with that a couple of two’s were places on the table, and Klaus, with a calm, low tone uttered-

“Last card.”

An array of sounds could be heard. Gasps, exasperated groans and sighs echoed across the table as cards were chucked in the middle in a show of surrender. Five glared daggers, as one would at the person who caused their defeat. It didn’t really matter to the medium anymore because-

“Victory is mine, bitches.”

A scoff, then an eyeroll before Five uttered “Beginner’s luck.”

“I’m the one who told you how to play you little shit.”

“Well, then it’s just a stroke of luck then. The game’s all chance anyways.”

“You goddamn pri-”

“Could it kill you all to be a bit quieter?” Luther asks, cutting the action as he finally stepped into the room.

“Lutherino!”

“Big guy finally decided to show up huh?”

“My apologies Razor Boy, didn’t want to give you guys burnt shit now, didn’t I?” he says, placing a pile of whatever he had made on the table, which was met with an applause all around. Oh damn they looked good.

“You guys only love me for cooking, don’t you?”

“Well, now that you’ve said it-”

“Five!” With a whack on his shoulder, Allison chided the former assassin while scooting a bit into Diego, patting the empty space she’d just created for Luther to plop into.

“Think you could come in with a cute little apron, you know, really sell into the chef role you’ve set for yourself here? One with an abundance of frills, preferably.”

“No, absolutely not Klaus. Now pass me the goddamn cards to shuffle before you guys start some shit again.”

“Wow, our Numero Uno now joins in on the gambling fun? Whatever happened to our ever so righteous bro bro?

“Klaus, I worked with Jack Ruby for a year. You don’t wanna know half the things I’ve witnessed.”

And that was it. That was their breaking point. It wasn’t long before the whole room erupted into laughter and wow this is so good.

It isn’t perfect. They all struggled to fit, it was way too chilly for comfort even under assorted layers of tight knit sweaters. Their hearts still panged for what they had already lost and what they were afraid they could still lose.

But, they were all together, and they haven’t been able to say that for so long. So, they could set all those worries and lingering annoyances aside for a bit to just be. Right here, right now, enjoying the warmth and joy of each other’s presence in a way they never thought they’d be so lucky to feel.

Later that night, Klaus resolves that if ever found Teow again, he’d have to thank him.

#tua #tua secret santa #tua secret santa 2020 #The Umbrella Academy #klaus hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #Allison Hargreeves #five hargreeves #diego hargreeves #luther hargreeves #ben hargreeves #Dave katz #klave #look man they're all just bastards and I just think they're neat #tv: the umbrella academy #mine: writing #damn this is the first fic I've published HELP AJSKLDJAS

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birdlord · 4 years ago

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Everything I Watched in 2020

We’ll start with movies. The number in parentheses is the year of release, asterisks denote a re-watch, and titles in bold are my favourite watches of the year. Here’s 2019’s list.

01 Little Women (19)

02 The Post (17)

03 Molly’s Game (17)

04 * Doctor No (62)

05 Groundhog Day (93)

06 *Star Trek IV - The Voyage Home (86)

07 Knives Out (19) My last theatre experience (sob)

08 Professor Marston and his Wonder Women (17)

09 Les Miserables (98)

10 Midsommar (19) I’m not sure how *good* it is, but it does stick in the ol’ brain

11 *Manhattan Murder Mystery (93)

12 Marriage Story (19)

13 Kramer vs Kramer (79)

14 Jojo Rabbit (19)

15 J’ai perdu mon corps (19) a cute animated film about a hand detached from its body!

16 1917 (19)

17 Married to the Mob (88)

18 Klaus (19)

19 Portrait of a Lady on Fire (19) If Little Women made me want to wear a scarf criss-crossed around my torso, this one made me want to wear a cloak

20 The Last Black Man in San Francisco (19)

21 *Lawrence of Arabia (62)

22 Gone With the Wind (39)

23 Kiss Me Deadly (55)

24 Dredd (12)

25 Heartburn (86) heard a bunch about this one in the Blank Check series on Nora Ephron, sadly after I’d watched it

26 The Long Shot (19)

27 Out of Africa (85)

28 King Kong (46)

29 *Johnny Mnemonic (95)

30 Knocked Up (07)

31 Collateral (04)

32 Bird on a Wire (90)

33 The Black Dahlia (05)

34 Long Time Running (17)

35 *Magic Mike (12)

36 Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead (07)

37 Cold War (18)

38 *Kramer Vs Kramer (79) yes I watched this a few months before! This was a pandemic friend group co-watch.

39 *Burn After Reading (08)

40 Last Holiday (50)

41 Fly Away Home (96)

42 *Moneyball (11) I’m sure I watch this every two years, at most??

43 Last Holiday (06) the Queen Latifah version of the 1950 movie above, lacking, of course, the brutal “poor people don’t deserve anything good” ending

44 *Safe (95)

45 Gimme Shelter (70)

46 The Daytrippers (96)

47 Experiment in Terror (62)

48 Tucker: The Man and His Dream (88)

49 My Brilliant Career (79) one of the salvations of 2020 was watching movies “with” friends. Our usual method was to video chat before the movie, sync our streaming services, and text-chat while the movie was on.

50 Divorce Italian Style (61)

51 *Gosford Park (01) another classic comfort watch, fuck I love a G. Park

52 Hopscotch (80)

53 Brief Encounter (45)

54 Hud (63)

55 Ocean’s 8 (18)

56 *Beverly Hills Cop (84)

57 Blow the Man Down (19)

58 Constantine (05)

59 The Report (19) maddening!! How are people so consistently terrible to one another!

60 Everyday People (04)

61 Anatomy of a Murder (58)

62 Spiderman: Homecoming (17)

63 *To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything, Julie Newmar (95) Of the 90s drag road movies, Priscilla is more visually striking, but this has its moments.

64 Twin Peaks: Fire Walk with Me (92)

65 *The Truman Show (98)

66 Mona Lisa (86)

67 The Blob (58)

68 The Guard (11)

69 *Waiting for Guffman (96) RIP Fred Willard

70 Rocketman (19)

71 Outside In (18)

72 The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (08) how strange to see a movie that you have known the premise for, but no details of, for over a decade

73 *Star Trek: The Undiscovered Country (91)

74 The Reader (08)

75 Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker (19) This was fine until it VERY MUCH WAS NOT FINE

76 The End of the Affair (99) you try to watch a fun little romp about infidelity during the Blitz, and Graham Greene can’t help but shoehorn in a friggin crisis of religious faith

77 Must Love Dogs (05) barely any dog content, where are the dogs at

78 The Rainmaker (97)

79 *Batman & Robin (97)

80 National Lampoon’s Vacation (83) Never seen any of the non-xmas Vacations, didn’t realize the children are totally different, not just actors but ages! Also, this one is blatantly racist!

81 *Mystic Pizza (88)

82 Funny Girl (68)

83 The Sons of Katie Elder (65)

84 *Knives Out (19) another re-watch within the same year!! How does this keep happening??

85 *Scott Pilgrim Vs The World (10) a real I-just-moved-away-from-Toronto nostalgia watch

86 Canadian Bacon (92) vividly recall this VHS at the video store, but I never saw it til 2020

87 *Blood Simple (85)

88 Brittany Runs a Marathon (19)

89 The Accidental Tourist (88)

90 August Osage County (13) MELO-DRAMA!!

91 Appaloosa (08)

92 The Firm (93) Feeling good about how many iconic 80s/90s video store stalwarts I watched in 2020

93 *Almost Famous (00)

94 Whisper of the Heart (95)

95 Da 5 Bloods (20)

96 Rain Man (88)

97 True Stories (86)

98 *Risky Business (83) It’s not about what you think it’s about! It never was!

99 *The Big Chill (83)

100 The Way We Were (73)

101 Safety Last (23) It’s getting so that I might have to add the first two digits to my dates...not that I watch THAT many movies from the 1920s...

102 Phantasm (79)

103 The Burrowers (08)

104 New Jack City (91)

105 The Vanishing (88)

106 Sisters (72)

107 Puberty Blues (81) Little Aussie cinema theme, here

108 Elevator to the Gallows (58)

109 Les Diaboliques (55)

110 House (77) haha WHAT no really W H A T

111 Death Line (72)

112 Cranes are Flying (57)

113 Holes (03)

114 *Lady Vengeance (05)

115 Long Weekend (78)

116 Body Double (84)

117 The Crazies (73) I love that Romero shows the utter confusion that would no doubt reign in the case of any kind of disaster. Things fall apart.

118 Waterlilies (07)

119 *You’re Next (11)

120 Event Horizon (97)

121 Venom (18) I liked it, guys, way more than most superhero fare. Has a real sense of place and the place ISN’T New York!

122 Under the Silver Lake (18) RIP Night Call

123 *Blade Runner (82)

124 *The Birds (62) interesting to see now that I’ve read the story it came from

125 *28 Days Later (02) hits REAL FUCKIN’ DIFFERENT in a pandemic

126 Life is Sweet (90)

127 *So I Married an Axe Murderer (93) find me a more 90s movie, I dare you (it’s not possible)

128 Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner (67)

129 The Pelican Brief (93) 90s thrillers continue!

130 Dick Johnston is Dead (20)

131 The Bridges of Madison County (95)

132 Earth Girls are Easy (88) Geena Davis and Jeff Goldblum are so hot in this movie, no wonder they got married

133 Better Watch Out (16)

134 Drowning Mona (00) trying for something like the Coen bros and not getting there

135 Au Revoir Les Enfants (87)

136 *Chasing Amy (97) Affleck is the least alluring movie lead...ever? I also think I gave Joey Lauren Adams’ character short shrift in my memory of the movie. It’s not good, but she’s more complicated than I recalled.

137 Blackkklansman (18)

138 Being Frank (19)

139 Kiki’s Delivery Service (89)

140 Uncle Frank (20) why so many FRANKS

141 *National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation (89) watching with pals (virtually) made it so much more fun than the usual yearly watch!

142 Half Baked (98) another, more secret Toronto nostalgia pic - RC Harris water filtration plant as a prison!

143 We’re the Millers (13)

144 All is Bright (13)

145 Defending Your Life (91)

146 Christmas Chronicles (18) I maintain that most new xmas movies are terrible, particularly now that Netflix churns them out like eggnog every year.

147 Spiderman: Into the Spider-Verse (18)

148 Reindeer Games (00) what did I say about Affleck??!? WHAT DID I SAY

149 Palm Springs (20)

150 Happiest Season (20)

151 *Metropolitan (90) it’s definitely a Christmas movie

152 Black Christmas (74)

THEATRE:HOME - 2:150 (thanks pandemic)

I usually separate out docs and fiction, but I watched almost no documentaries this year (with the exception of Dick Johnston). Reality is real enough.

TV Series

01 - BoJack Horseman (final season) - Pretty damned poignant finish to the show, replete with actual consequences for our reformed bad boy protagonist (which is more than you can say for most antiheroes of Peak TV).

02 - *Hello Ladies - I enjoy the pure awkwardness of seeing Stephen Merchant try to perform being a Regular Person, but ultimately this show tips him too far towards a nasty, Ricky Gervais-lite sort of persona. Perhaps he was always best as a cameo appearance, or lip synching with wild eyes while Chrissy Teigen giggles?

03 - Olive Kittredge - a rough watch by times. I read the book as well, later in the year. Frances Mcdormand was the best, possibly the only, casting option for the flinty lead. One episode tips into thriller territory, which is a shock.

04 - *The Wire S3, S4, S5 - lockdown culture! It was interesting to rewatch this, then a few months later go through an enormous, culture-level reappraisal of cop-centred narratives.

05 - Forever - a Maya Rudolph/Fred Armisen joint that coasts on the charm of its leads. The premise is OK, but I wasn’t left wanting any more at the end.

06 - *Catastrophe - a rewatch when my partner decided he wanted to see it, too!

07 - Red Oak - resolutely “OK” steaming dramedy, relied heavily on some pretty obvious cues to get across its 1980s setting.

08 - Little Fires Everywhere - gulped this one down while in 14-day isolation, delicious! Every 90s suburban mom had that SUV, but not all of them had the requisite **secrets**

09 - The Great - fun historical comedy/drama! Costumes: lush. Actors: amusing. Race-blind casting: refreshing!

10 - The Crown S4 - this is the season everyone lost their everloving shit for, since it’s finally recent enough history that a fair chunk of the viewing audience is liable to recall it happening.

11 - Ted Lasso - we resisted this one for a while (thought I did enjoy the ad campaign for NBC sports (!!) that it was based on). My view is that its best point was the comfort that the men on the show have (or develop, throughout the season) with the acknowledgement and sharing of their own feelings. Masculinity redux.

12 - Moonbase 8 - Goodnatured in a way that makes you certain they will be crushed.

13 - The Good Lord Bird - Ethan Hawke is really aging into the character actor we always hoped he would be!

14 - Hollywood - frothy wish-fulfillment alternate history. I think the show would have been improved immeasurably by skipping the final episode.

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eat-the-richard · 4 years ago

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Why Super Mario Sunshine is kind of bad (and how to fix it)

It’s safe to say that in our current hellscape that there are few games in the Mario franchise with as strong of a following online than Super Mario Sunshine. And how could it not? It’s so unique and fun that most people could probably have a good time with it. But it’s interesting to note just how much this perspective has changed over time.

When Sunshine came out it was considered by some to be the black sheep of the series. Or at the very least a noticeable step down from 64. There’s quite a lot wrong with Mario Sunshine. While there’s a great game at the core of this thing, there’s certainly a few miles of paint-like goop to sift through.

What’s frustrating is that a lot of these problems could have been solved with just a bit more development time. Mario Sunshine was rushed. This can be observed even without prior knowledge, but it becomes plainly evident when you look at some of the prerelease videos. In some instances it doesn’t even resemble the final product. Even at E3 2002, just three months before launch, there are a lot of noticeable differences to the final product.

Because of this rushed development, a lot of corners needed to be cut to pad out the game’s relatively lacking amount of content. The result is a game that is fun and well designed in some instances but a complete and utter disaster in others.

The issues plaguing Mario Sunshine were emblematic of a Nintendo-wide issue. At the start of the GameCube’s life, many prominent franchises were rushed along development to meet strict deadlines to fill out the console’s thinning library and boost sales. The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker is a textbook example. A lot of people had issues with that one too when it came out. Despite some clearly dumb points about the game’s art style, there’s definitely a lot to say about how Wind Waker pads out limited content. Doesn’t that sound familiar?

Thankfully, in 2013, the Wind Waker received an HD rerelease for the Wii U. Alongside a hefty visual overhaul, there were many under the hood changes to make the game an overall smoother experience stemming directly from those 2003 critiques. Sailing is made way simpler and faster in this version and the Tingle-inspired back-half of the game is shortened significantly. These two changes alone make this version superior, at least to me.

In the years since, I believed that Sunshine could have benefited from a rerelease similar to Wind Waker. Not necessarily in terms of its visuals (which I think have held up rather well) but in terms of its structure. Some small changes to the way Sunshine progresses could really benefit it overall, and I believed, erroneously, that it was only a matter of time before it received this treatment.

But we live in a post-3D All Stars world, and Nintendo’s response is clear. They believe Mario Sunshine is perfectly fine as is. Just touch up some of the textures, give it a resolution increase, and you got yourself a solid product. And yeah, its still pretty fun like this. But its hard to look past the missed potential in refining some of Sunshine’s rougher edges.

Which is what I plan to outline in this video. If I were to be given the reigns to nosedive Nintendo’s current plans to revamp a 2002 GameCube game, what would I change? After a suitable amount of complaining, I’ll discuss a fan project that comes close to doing what I think Nintendo should do.

So sit back, relax and let me refresh your body and spirit.

The first changes I’d make have to do with the frame rate. It’s evident that Super Mario Sunshine was supposed to be a 60 frames-per-second game. Some prerelease footage even shows as much. But somewhere late in development, the framerate was capped at 30, making it the only 3D Mario Game post-64 to not reach 60. Using Gecko codes, it’s possible to unlock the framerate and play at a pretty consistent 60. It’s so consistent that it starts raising the question of why Nintendo didn’t implement this into the Switch rerelease. This code isn’t emulator exclusive either, it also works pretty well when used on Wii consoles. Also, a hypothetical rerelease using the source code wouldn’t even have to deal with this anyway. But it’s good that the game works so well like this even without more structural changes. I don’t really need to explain the benefit of an increased framerate, so strike that one down.

And with that out of the way, it’s time to outline the biggest change my hypothetical Mario Sunshine remaster would make. One seemingly small but with major ramifications towards the rest of the game. But first, some background.

Super Mario 64 took a pretty big risk back in 1996 by significantly changing the main objective of playing a platformer. It was no longer about clearing a level. You aren’t going through these areas to reach an end point. The objective is now to find certain major collectibles, in this case power stars. But the game doesn’t want you to collect all of them. I’ve heard a lot of discourse recently about the boot-out system, but even when I was a kid I realized that 64 kicked you out of every level not just to pad out game length but to keep you moving around the castle.

64 is always inviting you to explore new areas with a constant trickle of new content the more total stars you collect. At first, the amount of stars needed to unlock a new level are small. The first area of the castle has every level besides Bob-omb’s Battlefield locked behind a small star total. And the amount needed to progress onto the next full area with five more major levels is only 8. But these star totals gradually increase over time, requiring 30, 50, and finally 70 stars to unlock new content. But what stars you got never mattered, just how many in total. This allows for free exploration where the player doesn’t have to think about where their next objective is. For instance, exploring pretty much every cardinal direction of Lethal Lava Land will lead you in the direction of a star. And because it doesn’t matter which star you get, it allows players to choose how long they invest in each level. Are the constant treks up Tall Tall Mountain or Rainbow Ride annoying you? Well all those stars are completely optional, you just have to compensate by completing more of the other levels. It’s an ingenious system that allows for a lower total amount of levels to feel more rewarding.

Super Mario Sunshine is practically begging to be like this. In fact, for the first few hours, that’s exactly how it works. New levels are unlocked progressively through getting Shines. But it doesn’t work in quite the same way. These shine totals are never outlined to the player. It shows you that you’ll eventually be able to use the Rocket Nozzle and has objects like the pineapple blocking Sirena Beach to make you yearn for a Yoshi. But you’re not told when these things are to be unlocked; it just sort of happens. Which is fine, it definitely makes the game feel more mysterious. But it lacks that forward momentum of 64 where your end goal is always simple and in the back of your mind. Oh, I need 30 stars to unlock this big door. Sunshine doesn’t have this despite literally operating in the same way. But it still maintains the ability to slowly unlock content to players through playing more of the game, which is good. And importantly, which stars you get for these gates aren’t important, just that you’re getting them at all. And if the game stuck to this principle, that would’ve been great.

Except it didn’t.

After the rocket nozzle is unlocked and Pianta Village becomes accessible, your total amount of Shines is never relevant again. Instead, game progression is contingent upon completing mission 7 of every level. Not every shine is valued the same according to the game. The progression is far more linear than in 64. You can no longer choose to avoid the Chuckster mission. Or the Sand Bird mission. Or the teeth cleaning mission. Or racing Il Piantissimo three times. Or fighting Gooper Blooper three times. Or fighting Petey Pirahna twice. Or defeating these same Piranha Plant Gatekeepers five times. Or even chasing down and squirting on Shadow Mario E L E V E N T I M E S. There’s a lot of repetition here which would’ve been eased simply by allowing the player to avoid doing these missions wherever possible. 64 had similar situations of reused content, but it’s not as egregious when there’s no incentive to collect stars you don’t want to.

This structure is also weird because there’s a ton of extra missions in this game. Some of the game’s most, err, fun segments are hidden away in Delfino Plaza. These can be some pretty time-consuming tasks. You know what I’m talking about. But that’s not all. Every course also has some bonus shines. Every secret stage has an additional Red Coin challenge. There’s some “cleverly” hidden shines even within certain missions. There’s even a mission 8 to every level. Every level also has a 100 coin mission which, just to get it out of the way, should absolutely not spawn the shine somewhere 100 feet away from you AND boot you out of the level upon collection AND not be possible in every mission. Like c’mon, Mario 64 got this right on the first try. So Nintendo went out of their way to put all these extra shines in the game, and yet none of them matter towards game completion. Which makes me wonder what the point of completing them is supposed to be?

All this extra content, regardless of quality, would benefit from a system similar to Mario 64. In its current state, there’s not much of a reason to even bother with these extra missions, especially when some of them are of questionable quality. On that same token, there’s some pretty fun missions hidden in this extra content, and it’s a shame that they aren’t more important.

Well, with that...

B L U E C O I N S

I almost forgot about you!

Blue Coins are pretty despised. But in concept they’re pretty smart to put in a game like this. It’s kind of like the Red Coins but on a broader scale. They’re packed into every little tiny corner of the levels, giving players more of a reason to explore the pretty environments. And once you collect 10 of them, you get a Shine Sprite from the local beavers. If these Blue Coin shines counted towards a grand total for game completion, Blue Coins could give players a nice buffer to replace some of the games more questionable missions. But just like all of the extra content, Blue Coins matter not one iota towards finishing the game. So, the only reason to collect Blue Coins at all is if you wanted to collect them all.

And that’s precisely why people hate them. Because collecting all the Blue Coins is an absolute nightmare. Let’s not even talk about how cryptic some of these coins are because honestly I’ll be here all day. Let’s instead talk about how impossible it is to know how close you are to getting every Blue Coin in a level. You can intuit through previous levels that it caps out at 30 per level, but the game never tells you that. There’s obviously no Blue Coin tracker like there is for shrines in Breath of the Wild, so if you’re frantically darting around Noki Bay looking for the one coin you missed that's hidden inside a wall for some reason, you’ve only got GameFaqs and Jesus to help you at that point.

To top it all off, just like the 100 coins missions, it’s impossible to get every Blue Coin in every mission in a level. Some blue coins are exclusive to certain missions. And it’s impossible to know how many are exclusive, which ones are exclusive, how many exclusives you’ve gotten, how many exclusives you need. Must I continue? This process is a disaster and gives Blue Coins a bad name. If they were put in a game like Mario 64, I feel like these things would have much more of a positive reputation. But as it stands these things are so toxic they’ve been reduced to POW switch fodder in later games.

I think Blue Coins summarize the issue with the extra content pretty succinctly. In a game like Mario 64, they’re harmless. But in a game where none of it is tied to beating the final level, the only purpose they have is 100% completion. And 100% completion should never be the focus of 3D Platformers. Some players prefer playing to completion but there’s a reason why most don’t. Fully completing a game is a soul commitment as much as it is a time commitment. It’s saying to yourself that I am willing to go through all the unfinished, janky, and cryptic content Mario Sunshine has to offer all for the extensive reward of… a different end screen. So yeah, there is no reason to get 100% of Mario Sunshine’s content. Even completionists are going to be disappointed. Not only is this content useless towards Any%, it’s aggravating for 100%, since fully completing the game is so unrewarding.

So, how do we fix this issue? Well to do that, let’s take a look at a mod that, in my opinion, does exactly that: Super Mario Sunburn, made by Epicwade.

The biggest change Sunburn makes is in its requirements for completion. Rather than Bowser being locked behind completing the seven Shadow Mario shines, the door to Corona Mountain is opened when the player attains 70 shines overall. If you recall, that’s the exact same amount 64 requires of the player to reach the final level. This change, by itself, adjusts Sunshine more towards what I would like it to be. But if you’re crazy enough to prefer the previous mode of completion, it’s still there as an option.

That’s not all, though. Now, when you collect a Shine, you’re no longer booted out of the level, and instead are simply asked to save and then you’re free to explore the rest of the level. My feelings on this essentially boil down to which mission I’m playing. I think the first two shines of Bianco Hills show this working pretty much perfectly. You squirt on the gatekeeper to get the first shine and then you’re immediately free to go forward and fight Petey Piranha. This feels far more natural than having to get booted out after the first shine and make the entire trip through the first half of Bianco Hills just to get back to where you just were. So in this case, it’s a positive.

However, Sunshine very often changes its course layout per mission. And when that happens, it feels a bit unnecessary to have to boot out of a level manually and boot back in just to get the next event to trigger. Sometimes you can chain getting a bunch of shines out in the open with a secret stage which resets the level upon entering the newly placed warp pipe at the end of it. But otherwise you’re stuck pausing and exiting. I feel this issue may be able to be streamlined by doing something like Mario Odyssey does, where collecting certain Moons boot you to the beginning of the level with the new mission unlocked. This might be outside of the reach of Sunshine modding at the moment, though.

This isn’t the only change set to make Sunshine more open. One of my favorite parts of the original game was that you could see other levels whenever you looked around. Turning at the start of Bianco Hills and being able to see not only Delfino Plaza but also the yet to be unlocked Ricco Harbor and Pinna Park was fascinating to me when I first played it. Sunburn takes this concept one step further by allowing players to travel from stage to stage. For instance, taking the river in Bianco Hills spits you out Ricco, and climbing a vine in Ricco allows you to travel back. This is a pretty novel idea and definitely makes replaying the game an entirely different experience, especially when combined with the lack of boot out. It does lose me a bit in how it necessitates for every level to be unlocked at the start. As I mentioned previously, slowly unlocking stages to the player by collecting whatever collectible they’re using allows for 3D Platformers to have constant forward momentum, which is lost here. But for those who’ve already played the game I think this is a fun option.

Other quality of life changes are strictly positives. In most instances, Blue Coins are now accessible from any mission in a level. I say most because it’s impossible for some of these coins to make the transition. But in the vast majority of cases, it’s been done. More coins have been added to each stage, along with Red Coins counting as collecting two coins just like in 64. This makes getting 100 coins a lot easier, especially when you’re doing multiple missions of a stage in a row. Two of the game’s weakest sections become far more manageable with these changes. There’s some smaller changes too, like being able to skip cutscenes, Blue Coins no longer bringing up a save screen, and Shadow Mario’s invisible health bar being restored. There’s also new content here, with additional secret stages being accessible from the main courses. Nothing mind-blowing, but it’s at least pretty neat to run around Outset Island as a FLUDD-strapped Mario.

Super Mario Sunburn addresses a lot of my issues with the original version, which was exactly the point. I’m not the first to bring up these issues, nor will I be the last. There’s so much potential within Super Mario Sunshine to be one of the best examples of its genre, so to see it fall short in such fundamental areas is undeniably frustrating. As usual with Nintendo, and even with other publishers, it’s often the community that sees itself to correct the issues with the games they feel deeply passionate about. Basically the only difference between Sunburn and an official Sunshine remake or remaster would be a significant layer of polish. That still might happen, but I’m not holding my breath at this point. So if you find yourself feeling similarly as I do about Sunshine, it might be worth it to check Super Mario Sunburn out. Here’s the download link again if you’re curious.

#mario #super mario sunshine #nintendo #essay #rom hack

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libraryscarf · 5 years ago

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i was thrilled to write something for @fast-moon for the @noragamisecretsanta2019. i hope you like this silly little slice-of-life, and consider it a sincere ‘thank you’ for all you do for the fandom. <3

we fish you a merry christmas

“That kid doesn’t get out enough,” Daikoku mutters, glancing into the loft where two figures sit eyebrow-deep in a pile of textbooks. Hiyori’s been putting Yukine through his paces as the final year of high school bears down on her, and it wouldn’t surprise Daikoku if she were on the verge of springing a practice test or two on her captive student.

“Whatcha doin’, peeping Tom?”

The voice at his elbow makes Daikoku jump. The goblinish smirk on Yato’s face somehow makes it exponentially more punchable.

“You’re one to talk,” Daikoku snarls. “Has Hiyori forgiven you for your little photo collection yet?”

Yato blanches. “That’s—that’s water under the bridge.”

“Should I remind her of when her sleeping face was your lock screen?”

“Waitwaitwait, I’m sorry, please don’t, Daikoku, I’ll do anything--”

Daikoku grins. That’s more like it.

“Don’t you think he’s lookin’ a little anemic?” he asks, motioning with his head at Yukine, who remains miraculously engrossed in studying despite the disruption right outside the door.

“Anemic?” Yato repeats stupidly.

Daikoku’s eyebrows pull together. “Peaky,” he clarifies. “Pale. Wan. Feeble. Insipid.”

Yato bristles. “You calling my boy feeble?”

“He needs some fresh air! All kids do!”

“He gets plenty of that when we’re on jobs,” Yato says in a dismissive tone, before withering like a sunflower under Daikoku’s freezing glare.

“You call scrubbing strangers’ toilets and picking up after your littering ass, ‘getting fresh air?’” he rumbles menacingly.

“What are we saying about your littering ass?” Yukine asks, his head popping into sudden view around the door.

“Respect your elders!” Yato and Daikoku thunder in unison.

: : :

“So where are we going?”

“Somewhere.”

Yukine grimaces.

“You know, Daikoku, it’s not that I don’t totally trust your intentions and all, but sneaking me out of the house, away from both Yato and Kofuku is…well…”

Daikoku grinds his teeth so hard his jaw cracks like a gunshot.

“Kid, for the last goddamn time, I am not a—”

“There you are!” Hiyori trots toward them, a backpack slung over her shoulder and a big, floppy sunhat bouncing with every step. Her arms are bare and freckled, like she’s been spending quite a bit of time outdoors.

“I thought I heard someone yelling,” she says brightly.

“I wasn’t yelling,” Daikoku grumbles.

“You were kind of yelling,” says Nora, silently manifesting right behind Yukine, who curses with such vigor that Daikoku and Hiyori both “shush” him.

“Please don’t do that again,” Yukine gasps, clutching his chest. Nora pats his shoulder in apology.

The four of them continue along the same path for about half an hour, until quite suddenly an arresting view opens up in front of them. It’s a small, sparkling lake, the surface of it as flat and peaceful as a mirror. Rocks, slick with algae, line the shores. Except for the monotone rill of summer insects, it is absolutely silent. To Daikoku, the existence of this place feels like a great miracle.

“Wow,” says Yukine, appropriately awestruck. Hiyori’s eyes are round. “This is so pretty!” she exclaims.

“Lots of fish live here too,” utters a small voice to their left. The three of them turn to see Ebisu, balancing precariously on one of the slippery rocks nearby, a hand shading his eyes as he gazes pensively across the lake.

“I protect this place,” he states almost casually, his eyes fixed somewhere distant across the bright water. “That’s why it can still be so quiet like this, even in the middle of such a big city.”

Hiyori, Yukine, and Nora look to Daikoku, as though expecting him to tell them he’d known this all along. He hadn’t.

Then Ebisu slips.

“Oh!” he cries, as his legs shoot out from under his tiny body. But before he hits either the rock or the slimy surface of the algae, Daikoku springs into action. Plunging shin-deep into the water, he snatches Ebisu from the jaws of what would almost certainly be a nasty concussion.

“Young master!?” Kunimi explodes from the edge of the trees, his face the color of a ripe plum and his suit a wrinkled, muddy disaster. “How did you get so far ahead of me?”

“Your guidepost is shirkin’ his duties,” Daikoku mutters.

“He is still fairly new to his job,” Ebisu says, seeming absolutely unbothered by his own close call with disaster. “He needs a few centuries to get to Iwami’s level.”

Kunimi reaches the edge of the lake and doubles over, heaving with exertion. After he regains his wind, Daikoku strides back to shore and hands Ebisu off to his disheveled guidepost.

“You’ll be joinin’ us then?” Daikoku jerks his head back toward Hiyori, Yukine, and Nora. Hiyori, having seen Ebisu safely back to shore, kneels and begins unpacking her backpack. Yukine and Nora watch as she removes a canister of bait and unfolds a long fishing pole.

“Fishing?” Yukine says incredulously.

“Yeah,” Daikoku says, walking over and taking the rod Hiyori holds out to him. “You three really need some off-time. This is one of the best ways to blow off steam.”

Yukine, looking a touch green, eyes the squirming bait in the canister Hiyori has just uncapped. “Couldn’t we have just played ‘catch’ or something?” he says mournfully.

Daikoku glances at him from the corner of his eye. “You wanna play catch?”

Yukine turns pink. “No! Absolutely not! It was an example! A what-if situation!”

A grin tugs at the corner of Daikoku’s mouth. “Got it, kid.”

After he hands out the fishing rods, it grows quickly apparent to Daikoku that he has severely overestimated the hand-eye coordination, as well as the capacity for silent waiting, of two of his three charges. Hiyori does quite well, having accompanied several summer fishing trips with her father, but not so well that she manages to actually hook anything at the end of her line. Yukine makes miserable noises as he applies the bait to his tackle, then becomes ensnared with his own fishing line and must be untangled by Kunimi. Nora refuses the fishing rod outright, preferring to wade waist-deep into the water, vanish beneath the surface, and reappear seconds later holding a live, struggling fish in each fist.

“Do I win?” she asks calmly.

“This isn’t a—” competition, Daikoku is about to say, but before he can finish, something streaks past him and plummets into the water, churning up waves like a school of piranha.

“If I am to win, I must know the method and the stakes,” comes a voice from the edge of the trees, and Bishamon appears with a small retinue of her shinki.

“Why are they here?” Yukine whispers out of the corner of his mouth to Nora, who is attempting to stack her growing pile of squirming captives against an errant boulder, but mostly succeeding in creating a sort of fish Slip’N’Slide down into the algae.

Nana’s messy head surfaces from the middle of the lake with a splash, and its owner gives a muffled whoop. “Hugh guht wuh!” she crows, teeth clamped around a struggling trout.

Daikoku hauls Nora back from her sixth journey into the lake to capture more innocent fish and plants her firmly next to Yukine with a fishing rod in her hand. “We’re learning with these,” he says emphatically, then begins to shovel her hard-won pile of scaly trophies back into the lake, where they thrash away from the shore as fast as possible, shimmering like little bolts of lightning beneath the water.

“Well then that’s just cheating,” Nora says, pointing at where Ebisu stands at the very edge of the shore, hand held safely in Kunimi’s. The water right in front of him is boiling with eager fish that are nearly throwing themselves onto the rocks at his feet. He leans down, reaches into the foaming mass, and effortlessly pulls out a fish.

“Seriously,” Daikoku says in despair, “Why is everyone here?”

A pink head pops out from behind Bishamon.

“I told them!” Kofuku says gleefully, then launches herself at Daikoku, tackling both of them into the water.

: : :

“So when you heard me say, ‘I’m taking Hiyori, Yukine, and Nora on a quiet fishing trip to the lake,’ what you actually heard was ‘Tell everyone in our circle of acquaintance there’s a big competition at the lake; be there or face eternal dishonor’?”

Kofuku’s wet hair smacks into her face as she nods at Daikoku. “Yep! Pretty much!”

Yukine glares at her, utterly betrayed. “You said you could keep Yato off my case for one day.”

“And I did!” she chirps. Yukine looks pointedly at Yato, who, once he saw Hiyori was trying to fish, could not be persuaded away from joining her. So far all he’s managed is to lose his bait, break a pole, and frighten away every single fish investigating Hiyori’s line.

“Okay,” Kofuku corrects. “But I tried. You didn’t give me enough Umaibō!”

“I gave you fourteen.”

Kofuku shrugs. “He’s insatiable.”

Yukine gazes forlornly down at his fishing pole. “Well, I guess it doesn’t really matter. I’m not gonna be able to catch anything.”

Daikoku grunts. Then he snatches a piece of bait from the canister, stuffs it in his pocket, and steers Yukine away from the crowd of people at the shore. Yato and Hiyori glance up at them as they walk off, and for a moment it looks like Yato wants to follow, but Kofuku (occasionally, if not entirely reliable), throws her arms around his neck and knocks him straight into the water.

“Try here,” Daikoku says, once they’ve reached a quiet stretch of shore on the opposite side of the little lake.

Yukine still looks skeptical. To give him a little nudge in the right direction, Daikoku pulls the bait out of his pocket, picks off the lint, and affixes it to the end of the fishing line.

“Trust me, kid.”

After a few failed casts, Yukine manages to send his line out far enough for any questing fish to bite. He settles down on the rock, and Daikoku crouches next to him, both their eyes searching the ripples.

Several minutes go by. Daikoku clears his throat.

“So…how’s school?”

Yukine’s mouth twitches.

“It’s good. Hiyori’s kinda strict, but she’s really smart and knows how to explain stuff.”

Daikoku rubs his chin. “Great,” he mutters. “That’s great.”

Yukine snorts quietly. “You know, it’s okay with me if we just sit here and fish in silence.”

Daikoku deflates in relief. “Thank god.”

After a few more minutes of wordless waiting, Yukine’s shoulders seem to loosen.

“I think you were right about blowing off steam,” he admits. “This is…nice. Even if I don’t catch anything.”

The edges of Daikoku’s mouth soften. “It ain’t so much about the catching,” he says. “It’s more about the sitting.”

Not particularly profound advice, but Yukine nods solemnly, like it’s the truest wisdom he’s ever heard.

Then, a tug comes at the end of the line.

#scarfwrites #noragamisecretsanta2019 #fast-moon #noragami #noragami fanfiction #i've never gone fishing.#my only experience comes from stardew valley and i'm pretty sure that's Exactly how it works irl

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cardandpixel · 4 years ago

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RocketBook Flip - a rare review and it’s not a game!

Before I go any further, I feel I must point out that I don’t have any financial connection to RocketBook whatsoever – this isn’t a piece that was requested or courted by RocketBook or affiliates and I’m not receiving any reward or sponsorship either in product or direct payment for this article. I just like the damn thing and love it when an innovative piece of tech (in this case quite low key) just works. Hi I’m Paul, and I have a bit of a problem with notebooks – A4 lined, sketch, reporters, Black & Reds (ohhhh the sheer number of B&Rs), goofy ones, serious work ones, battered ones, pristine ‘for best only’ ones – and they all fill at an alarming rate. I make notes on everything. Working as a sound engineer and designer, there’s always mix notes, soundscape plots, ideas, VO notes and scripts, SFX ideas etc etc. At home it’s a very different story – it’s much worse. Game notes; blog notes; hurriedly scribbled quiz questions spurred by watching another episode of Mental Floss’ 500 facts about cheese; RPG notes and story ideas; my own script writing; world building; sketches; other creative ideas; song/music notes and ideas; and that’s before we get to to-do lists; and the dreaded ‘things I must remember’. So my journal life is many, varied and plenty. The usual issue is… ‘what frakking journal did I put that amazing idea in????’, and that’s way before we get to the utter horror that is possibly losing a whole journal or forgetting to bring one home from work. I’m 53, I forget more than I recall, and journals help bring some semblance of order to a massively chaotic and fertile brain. What I’ve needed for a long time is some way of organising all this info or centralising it in some way. Sure I’ve looked at apps – I used Things, Evernote, Notes, and One Note for years, and they are really, really good, but they relied on either having a charged device exactly when I need it (yeah – me too) or net access, which for a new-ish theatre, is surprisingly a bit of an issue at work. And the most important part – I actually enjoy the physical act of handwriting long-hand. I still write actual physical letters to people, it’s adorable and a bit creepy in this age, but I call it charming and leave it at that. Handwriting, for me, allows me time to think and process in a way that typing just doesn’t. Handwriting is slower, I rarely cross anything out, and so I always have the whole of the thought. So what I’ve ideally wanted for years, was a reliable way of organising all my notes and storing them electronically so I have access even without the actual journal, with OCR so they’re editable, and still being a tactile handwritten experience. I’m naturally a sceptic (I actually subscribe to Fortean Times – yeah – I card carry!) and so online ads and particularly FaceAche ads are a field day for critical thinking triggers. I don’t think I’ve ever received from Wish, exactly what I ordered from Wish. And so when an ad from RocketBook constantly kept popping up on my timeline a few weeks ago, I was naturally “it’ll never work” But their website looked legit enough – they had a dedicated UK shop, it was relatively steep to buy in but not so wild that if it didn’t work I wouldn’t be crying too much about the money wasted, and at the end of the day it was a 10th the price of a ReMarkable 2 which is actually what I thought would solve my problem. I’m furloughed at the mo and though I could argue the case for £300+ notebook (test me, I could), I just couldn’t justify it now. And RocketBook had a good summer intro offer. I ordered on the Wednesday, and the impressively glitzy and graphic-design-playbook poly package was dropped on my doorstep just 2 days later by my cheery postie who yelled up the drive “Package for ya, looks very exciting!!!!” I like that our postal service is still invested in the hopes and dreams of their customers. It was exciting. All the instructions for getting started with my new Teal RocketBook A4 Flip were right there before you even open it. The main body houses the pad and a cleaning cloth, and a clever little side pocket houses the supplied Pilot Frixion pen.

RocketBooks come in several models, all configured slightly differently. I have the Flip which is a top spiral-bound softback pad with 21 double sided ‘pages’ giving 42 pages in total. The Flip has lined paper one side, and dot paper on the reverse (great for D&D maps, impromptu tables, mixer channel plots etc)

DELIVERY & FIRST IMPRESSIONS The pads are nicely made, with sturdy covers (available in some really nice colours too) and a solid, thick plastic ring binding. Initially, The RocketBook does feel a bit odd. Its ‘pages’ are actually a synthetic polyester blend and feel quite shiny to the touch. The sort of surface you just instantly feel is not going to be great for ink! Each page is edge-to-edge lined or dotted with a heavy black border. At the bottom is a prominent QR code used for scanning and some very feint icons. These 7 icons are the key to the ease of use of the RocketBook series. But more later.

THE APP

The pads work with a companion app, that is absolutely free and available for Apple & Android. In fact, RB even do downloadable printable pages so you can try the whole system absolutely free before you buy – I didn’t, I just bought one, y’know. The app allows you to set up your destination locations, your preferences and does the actual scanning. Just one quick note, I have the app on both my phone and iPad and had to set-up the app the same for both, there appears to be no way of swapping preference settings between devices, though I can see why this may be intentional.

Currently, the RocketBook allows you to choose from the following locations to send files to: GoogleDrive, box, EverNote, DropBox, slack, OneNote, iCloud, OneDrive as well as simply to an email (or multiple) addresses and iMessage. Impressively, these are not fixed either, so you could choose your 7 destinations to be 7 email addresses of team members. These 7 locations are the icons at the bottom of each page. To select a destination for your file, you just make a mark in that icon box (tick, circle, something unsavoury) and that page will be sent to whichever you select. This makes the system very flexible indeed as not every page is necessarily sent to every destination. You always decide every time you fill a page. Change your mind on a second revision? No problem, add or change icons at any time and re-upload.

There’s a really handy table on the inside front cover for you to note what icon sends what where. This is also wipeable, so can be changed anytime.

I have mine set by default to:

Rocket > main email address (either as PDF, JPG, OCR embedded or as separate txt file)

Diamond > GoogleDrive (you can specify exactly what folder too)

Apple > iMessage

Bell > OneNote

That actually still leaves me 3 spare: shamrock; star; and horseshoe.

The app took me maybe 20mins to set-up, that included decision time for destinations and setting up a few target folders. It also included a few ‘test firings’. I didn’t get everything right first time and a few things didn’t send, but crucially, a tiny bit of digging revealed very simple troubleshooting (including the aforementioned issue with no sync’ing of phone and iPad), and all in I was finding the files in all the right destinations within about 30 mins. The website, FAQs and community are immensely helpful with any other issues as well. I had a tiny issue with OneNote seeming to take ages to sync, but I think that’s an issue with my OneNote settings, everything else was almost instantaneous. You can also handily set the app to auto-send as soon as it scans, or allow for manual review.

CLEAN UP ON AISLE ROCKETPAD The main reason I wanted to look at the RocketBook was the issue of reusability. My journal shenanigans are by no means the biggest ecological disaster on the planet, but if we are to believe Tesco (who probably issue as many receipts at our local Tesco Express in a day as journals I’ve ever used), every little helps. If I could find an ecologically better solution, I should at least take a look. The RocketPads work by partnering with Pilot pens called Frixion. The really clever bit is RB’s paper technology and how it works with the Frixion ink. At present, the pads only work with the Frixion pens – except the RB Colour which works with Crayola’s dry-erase crayons. When you write on the ‘paper’ with a Frixion pen, it remains wet for a few seconds and then dries pretty quickly. There’s no smudging whatsoever in transit, which is pretty cool. From then on, it may as well be permanent, until you have transmitted your page and decide you don’t want the text anymore. To wipe the page clean, you can dampen the supplied cloth and just wipe the surface clean, it’s weird but it works! But then damp cloth in your bag? So I use kitchen roll to dampen, then wipe dry with theirs. Others even have an adorably kitsch spray bottle in their kit. RB reckon if you are not going to use the pad for a few months, to clean the pages as the ink can get trickier to shift after a long time, but for day-to-day use, I’ve tried writing and wiping well over 20x and the page hasn’t become discoloured or tarnished at all. The only pad different in the range is the Wave which cleans by microwaving! Do NOT do this with any of the others, bad things will happen. The ink doesn’t take scrubbing or any time to come up, I clean my pages in about 10-15s. The page can feel a little tacky when it’s damp, but leave a minute or so and the page will be back to normal. RB do say that odd things can happen if the book is left near a heatsource or in a hot car, vis-à-vis, the ink can completely disappear horrifyingly enough. They say that putting the pen or the pad in the freezer for a little while will actually restore the ink, but I’ve not tried it yet so can’t confirm or deny how that goes. Handy for spies in hot countries though, so there’s another target market. If you are always going to send your pages to the same places, then don’t erase the marked icons, and the page is ready for new notes straight away, otherwise, scrub them too.

I CAN’T READ YOUR WRITING – ARE YOU A DOCTOR? Initially, the RB pads send their files as scans of the pages in high contrast monochrome (colour is available) when you snap the page in the app (which auto-frames for you and takes maybe 10s to capture). The formats are either as images or PDF. If that had been it, I would have been quite happy, but the RB pads have another trick up their sleeve. Firstly, they have a function called ‘Smart Titles’ which allows you to name your files directly from the page by writing a filename between double hashtags ie ## this is my scrawl 24/8/20 ## and the file will pop up in your destinations with the filename “this is my scrawl 24/08/20” – this is insanely handy – there’s no protocol except your own and the hashtags, and it makes your files super easy to search. You can even send groups of pages as a single PDF. But the notebooks go even further. They actually offer full searchable OCR which the app can be set to send embedded in the PDF or image, or more usefully, as a companion separate .txt file. Now, my handwriting isn’t the neatest, but it’s not bad so I was prepared for some editing to be necessary, but impressively again, the OCR was about 90-95% accurate. In a page of text it missed maybe 3 or 4 words and even those not badly. This is all considering their full OCR is still only in beta! It gets confused with diagrams on the page, but that’s to be expected.

Text Generated by OCR: ## Blog post och test Aug 2020 ## This is a little demonstration of the OCR capabilities of the Rocket Book pads and app. I've told the lovely people that the hit rate is about 90-95% so please dant let me down here flip pad. Hopefully the file name will also prove another point further up in the section and not make me look like some charlatan or snake-oil salesman.Hope you enjoyed this demonstrahen, now go away and leave me to write the next great novella.Bye!

HOW MUCH? On average, I pay anywhere from £4-8 for a decent A4 notebook/journal, so at £30-37 (dependent on model), the RocketBook pads are not a whim purchase. That said, I get through a lot of journals in a year, and given that I would expect to easily get 2-3 years out of a RocketBook pad, then I’ve saved money. Will it replace all my notebooks? No. You need to be thinking of carrying this round as a kit: pad, Frixion pen (at least 2), and cloth. RB do a series of portfolio sleeves for the pads but it does push the price up a bit still, but for a rep, engineer or salesperson, this still makes sense. They’re less bulky than a normal A4 pad too. What I would say is Tesco and Sainsbury’s currently stock Frixion pens and at much better prices than buying them from RB directly, I just paid £3 for 3 pens on offer at Tesco compared to £10 from RB. You get one pen with the pad, but you’re going to want more soon, so stock up next time you’re shopping for truffle oil crisps. If you use whiteboards a lot, RB also have you covered. Instead of the pad, £16 will get you a 4 pack of ‘beacons’ – little self-adhesive triangles that effectively do the same thing as the QR code in the pad. You don’t have the icon options obviously, but if you’re looking to distribute quick meeting or group notes, this would be a boon. CONCLUSION Considering this was a fairly speculative purchase on my part, my early experiences with the RocketBook Flip have been really impressive. The flexibility, the ability to store every page in a different location if you really wanted to make it fantastic for organising my notes, which can save me hours of finding the right ^^$&^$&$ notebook in the first place, then scouring that for the one paragraph I was looking for etc etc. The searchable text facility, in-app history for re-sending etc and last but no way least, functional handwriting OCR, makes the RocketBook not only novel, but actually useable! Would I buy another? As a second notebook – yes. I look forward to seeing what the actual longevity of the product is once I come off furlough and start cramming my day bag with all my junk and a notepad again, but yes, I’d probably just have one at home, and one for work, but make the last 5 mins of each day, scanning and sending work notes so I have them with me wherever. Impressively, the RocketBook Flip just works and it works well. ‘Er Across The Table has already sold several folk at her work on the idea and she doesn’t even have one herself yet! I love it. It’s taking a little adjusting to, but it’s all good. The most important thing though is the writing experience, and I have to say, the combination of the Frixion pen/ink and the polymer technology of the Flip, again, just works. It’s smooth, doesn’t skip or smudge for me (I know some right to left users and left handers have reported some issues) and feels great to write on. If anything I have to slow down a bit as the contact is so smooth that your writing can get a bit ahead of you! RocketBook have produced a cracker of a product. It might not seem like much, but if practical working journals are your thing (ie not create and keep things) then I can highly recommend the RocketBook series.

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kayteewritessteve · 5 years ago

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If Only You Knew - 5/19

Description: You arrive home one day to find a wedding invite for two of your best friends from high school. You knew this day was going to come eventually, but even with that said, you weren’t prepared to return home. At least not after 7 years of avoiding Buckhannon, West Virginia. Or rather, avoiding him; your ex-best friend and the secret love of your life. But maybe it was finally time to face your past, to face him, and everything else that happened on that horrible night. Who would have knew that your prom would end up being a total disaster, and the very last night you’d spend in Buckhannon for the next 7 years? you certainly didn’t. That’s for sure.

Catch up HERE.

Word Count: 4,920 ish.

Pairing: Modern!Steve Rogers x Reader.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Violence. Drinking. Bad and offensive jokes. Possible triggering thoughts, feelings and emotions. Moments of bullying and harsh name calling. Lots of curse words. And a very sloooow burn.

A/N: I sadly don’t own any of these characters. And no beta reader, so I do proudly own all the errors and this story, so there’s that.

July 2018 - Present.

You pulled away from the curb and your heart was still racing, pounding into your rib cage. Well, at least that’s over with now.

If someone had told you this morning, that by mid day you’d have run into Steve, you’d probably have laughed in their damn face. But, here you were, driving away from your first interaction with him. The first time you’d found yourself face to face with him in 7 years. 7 whole years.

And fuck, if he didn’t look just as hot as you remembered him—No! That’s a lie. He is way hotter now. And that uniform. You sighed dreamily. Damn. He wore those blues too well. But let’s be honest, there’s a formula. Normal guys in uniforms, instantly become cute. Cute guys in uniforms, become attractive. And so on, and so forth. But when you put a hot guy in a uniform, plus add all the feelings and emotions of them being your ex best friend, and the secret love of your life, into the mix. Well, there you have the makings of a ‘take me right here, right now’ situation. And that was not a situation you wanted to be in, especially not the first time you interacted with him in 7 years. The first time since you straight up cut him out of your life, without so much as a goodbye.

You peered into the rearview and saw as he turned around and headed back to his car. Had he just been standing there watching you drive away? You shook your head then focused back on the road, and continued towards Nat’s house.

But try as you might to not think about him, your mind had other plans. And before you knew it, it had drifted back to Steve, and that damn uniform. How can one man be that fucking attractive?! It wasn’t fair, in the slightest.

Throughout the last 7 years, part of you had wished you’d never met Steve. But not for the reasons others might think. Yes, your parting was less than ideal—Okay, let’s be honest, it was extremely heartbreaking, and not at all how you would have pictured your friendship with Steve going—or rather, ending.

However, that night didn’t have a damn thing to do with why you wished you had never met him. The real reason, well, that was because of ‘the bar’. You know, that imaginary bar that gets set higher and higher with each wonderful boyfriend or partner. Yeah, that bar. Except in your case, that bar was damn near sky fucking high, and you hadn’t even dated Steve. Never even so much as kissed him. But yet, here you were, with a bar set to an unreachable height. Which made dating damn near impossible for you. It wasn’t that you never dated, it was that the guys never lasted long. You’d pick out any faults in them, instantly. And you’d always compare them to Steve, sometimes without even realizing you’d done it.

You had only known him for just shy of 2 years, yet in that time he had risen to the title of ‘love of your life’, and you had never even told him how you felt. Never even uttered the words out loud. But you couldn’t do that at the time, it was too risky. He was your best friend—and in his eyes, nothing more.

Not that he ever outright told you that. Steve was too sweet to ever hurt anyone's feelings, but you just knew you couldn’t stack up with the other girls in his life. Or rather, the ones that used to be in his life. They may not have had the best personalities, but they were all stunning. And you were…. well you.

You learned pretty quickly just how little you measured up in comparison. Shit, who were you kidding, you’d had that almost fully figured out on the first day of grade 11. As you pulled up out front of Nat’s house your mind started to travel back….

September 2009 - 9 years ago.

The morning of your first day of class wasn’t exactly going to plan, but you were rolling with it. As there really wasn’t much else you could do but to roll with it. The bell signalling the beginning of lunch rang out through the intercom in your classroom.

All your classmates simultaneously pushed their chairs back, causing a bunch of screeching and stuttering sounds throughout the room as they all stood up and exited the class. Chatting and laughing amoungst themselves, while the teacher was yelling some random information over the commotion and noise, but none of the students really paid any attention to her. You made your way into the hall and headed for your locker, you had gotten one next to the girls, while the boys lockers were down the hall a bit, near the end. About 50 feet from yours.

When you got to your locker there were students scattered all around the hallway, in little groups, talking and laughing, their voices echoing off the walls. You reached your locker, opening it and trading your textbooks for your lunch. As you did Nat, Hilde and Wanda walked up, doing the same.

“Hey guys,” you said as you shut your locker.

“Hey, Y/N,” Wanda smiled widely, and Hilde gave you a light pat on the back with a head nod as she opened her locker, that was left of yours.

“Hey, so, bad news,” Nat frowned slightly, “the boys all have to attend some football meeting, something about going over the upcoming year, or whatever,” she waved a dismissive hand around. “So it’s just us for lunch today, sorry Y/N..”

You shrugged, “That’s okay, I’ll meet him eventually. Plus it will be nice to have a girls lunch. Boys are smelly and loud,” you laughed then frowned at the next thought, “and they cause headaches, literally.” Your hand went up to touch the now almost gone goose egg.

The girls laughed then shut their lockers as the four of you started down the hall, you all had agreed that morning before class started that you’d eat on the front field as it was quieter, and today was going to be the day you got to finally meet the infamous Steve. Though just like the rest of your day not going to plan, that plan didn’t either. But there would be many more days to officially meet him. You’d just enjoy the girl time while you could.

“Truth,” Hilde snorted, “So, what exactly happened this morning?” She asked.

You had texted all three of them after your literal run in with the hot, tall football player, as you girls had made a group chat so you could talk without the boys interrupting. Though you weren’t able to tell them much, or go to into too much detail, but they knew the gist of what had happened.

“Yes,” Wanda squealed excitedly, “Tell us everything! Starting with which hunky football player it was,” she winked.

“Ah,” you scrunched up your nose as you pushed open the front doors to head outside, “I didn’t actually ask his name.”

“Y/N!” Hilde lightly smacked your arm, “You always ask cute guys for their names!”

“I know, I know. But in my defence, he did head butt me really fucking hard. So I wasn’t entirely with it. And then I called him cute,” you groaned, “and he heard me.”

“Okay, not the end of the world,” Nat laughed, “But what did he say back to that?”

“He questioned me on it, and then straight up pretended to look around for the ‘cute guy’.” You rubbed a hand down your face and groaned again.

The girls laughed then Wanda spoke up, “Well, we can rule out Johann, Brock and Baron, as they all would have never joked about other guys being more attractive than them,” she shook her head.

“Okay, at least we are getting somewhere,” Nat nodded as all four of you sat down in the grass and set out your lunches. “What did he look like?

“Ah, Blonde hair, blue eyes, really fucking hot,” you started to blush just remembering how he looked, “buff and ridiculously tall.” You paused, “Like a fucking giant, tall,” you emphasized and chuckled at the memory of calling him that to his face.

The girls all turned to each other, sharing looks between them and then threw their heads back to laugh.

“What?” Your brows knitted together in confusion. “Do you know who I’m talking about?”

They all quickly nodded, still laughing. Then Nat pulled herself together and said with a smirk, “yeah. Not hard to figure out who that is.”

“Who is it?” You asked quietly, almost afraid to even ask at all.

“Steve.” They said in unison then burst out laughing again.

“What!?” You gawked at them for a few seconds then whispered, “That was Steve?”

“Yeah, girl. That was definitely Steve that slammed into you this morning,” Hilde replied.

“Oh god,” you shook your head, “how am I supposed to face him now?!” You looked between the three girls around you. “I only hang out with you guys, and now he is going to be apart of that. And-and the first time I meet him, I fucking called him cute?!” You asked, though you were basically thinking out loud now. These questions meant more for yourself and not your friends, “To his face?!” You added then groaned loudly and dropped your face into your hands. Yes, you were being dramatic but you didn’t care in this exact moment.

“Honestly,” Nat started and you peeked up at her, “I’m sure he’s used to girls being attracted to him by now. So used to it that he probably doesn’t even notice it anymore,” she shrugged.

“Or doesn’t even notice, period,” Wanda laughed.

“Yeah, I swear every girl in our school has a crush on him, and probably have since kindergarten—“ Hilde started, but Nat cut in, looking quickly at her and Wanda, “Well, except for us,” she laughed.

“Yeah,” Wanda giggled.

Hilde just nodded her agreement to Nat’s addition then turned back to you. “So don’t even worry your pretty little head about it. I highly doubt he even pays attention to it anymore.”

“If he even notices in the first place,” Wanda added.

And Nat nodded, “and even if he does notice, he’s the very last person that would ever judge someone for it. So you’re good.”

“Well, that’s comforting, at least,” you mumbled. And it was comforting, but also upsetting, as clearly you’d never stand a fucking chance with him. You were just some awkward girl he knocked over in the hall, who called him cute and just happened to hang out with his friends. What would he ever see in you?

“Yeah, don’t sweat it, Y/N. I’m sure he has already forgotten all about it,” Hilde smiled. And you knew she was just trying to make you feel better about calling him cute, but it had the opposite effect. Now you just felt even more inadequate. Even more invisible.

“Yeah,” you shrugged, “you’re probably right,” you added quietly. Then the girls continued to chat amongst themselves as you silently sat there, setting up your book and eating your lunch as you read. Reading was usually how you got out of your head, got away from your thoughts. Which right now was very much what you needed, except it wasn’t really working. All you could think about was him, so now the book had become your cover, of sorts. The reason you were just sitting here, silently, not interacting with them anymore.

Every once and a while though, they’d ask you the odd question and you’d answer or agree, but other then that you stayed quiet. Lost in thought, internally putting yourself down, over and over and over again. Hoping that by doing so your brain would click and you’d stop thinking about Steve—or rather, how fucking attractive he was.

But your efforts were going to prove futile when about 15 minutes before lunch was to end Nat looked up, passed you, the movement drawing your eyes up to her, noticing a big smile spreading across her face. You looked at her confused for a second then turned to look behind you, seeing the 4 boys wandering over to your little lunch group. Rough housing with each other as they did. And—just like that, your mind was reminding you just how fucking hot he was.

“Ladies,” Bucky cooed as he walked around your circle and plopped down behind Nat, putting his legs on either side of her and kissing her on the cheek. And you all waved and said hello.

Sam sat down to your left, between Nat and Hilde, “So, how are you fine ladies doin?”

“Good,” you all said in unison while nodding, and the guys all laughed. Bucky then started whispering in Nats ear as she smiled, and nodded slowly. Clint sat down to your right, between Wanda and you, giving your shoulder a light squeeze as a hello, then he started talking to Wanda. And while this was all unfolding, Steve just kinda stood there, behind you, with his hands in his pockets.

You looked back down at your book, figuring he was just trying to decide where to sit down, as there was only 2 spots left available. Either between you and Hilde, pretty much right where he was currently standing, or on the other side of the circle between Nat/Bucky and Wanda. His indecision clearly meant that sitting beside you made him slightly uncomfortable. Or at least that’s what you were gathering, as the seconds ticked on. Great, just what you fucking needed. A senior member of the group being creeped out by you. So much for him forgetting all about you calling him cute. Fuck.

You heard Bucky speak, and peeked up at him from your book, “You gonna sit punk, or….?” He was staring up at Steve with a smirk on his face. But you couldn’t see Steve’s reaction, as you refused to turn and look up at him. This was all just too fucking awkward.

“Ah, yeah. Right,” he said quickly then finally sat down, picking the spot beside you. A few moments after he’d settled himself, an awkward silence hanging over your side of the circle, you saw his body shift slightly towards you, “Ah, hey Y/N, how’s the head?”

But you didn’t look over at him, just continued to stare at your book, though you still weren’t able to read a single word of it. However, you didn’t miss him using your name, and were slightly curious for a split second as to how he now knew it. But then again, you knew his. So you could only assume one of the boys had informed him of the ‘new girl’ in the friends group. “It’s fine. Thanks for asking, Steve,” you replied curtly, then pressed your lips into a thin line.

“Ah,” you saw him fidget in the corner of your eye. “Did you end up finding the office?”

“Yup.” You replied, popping the P. It was now that you decided to remove yourself from this whole awkward situation, and promptly gathered up your things. “I just remembered I have to get my gym clothes from my locker before class,” you stood up ,“I’ll ah, catch you all later.” You looked between all your friends—well everyone except Steve.

They all quickly said their goodbyes then you spun on your heel and headed back towards the building. Thankful that you were out of that whole uncomfortable situation.

“Y/N,” you heard someone yell from behind you as they ran to catch up to you, “hey, hold up.”

You froze, knowing instantly whose voice that was, and they were, of course, the one person you were currently trying to escape. You tightly closed your eyes then sighed, opening them and turning around. “Yeah?” You asked.

“I ah,” one of his hands went up to rub the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, again, for you know,” he paused then gestured to your forehead, “head butting you this morning.”

“Don’t sweat it,” you inwardly cringed at the memory of Hilde saying those exact words to you less then an hour ago. “No harm done.”

“Can I walk you to your locker?”

“No, that’s okay,” you waved off his offer, “I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.”

His brows furrowed for a second then he quickly corrected it. “It wouldn’t be an inconvenience at all,” he shook his head then leaned in to whisper grievously, “and what if you take a wrong turn along the way, how will you know which way to go? You know, without me there to show you. You could get lost, never to be found again.” He leaned back and his eyes widened in mock fear.

You just stared blankly up at him, then burst out laughing. You couldn’t have stifled it even if you’d tried. “Are you seriously making fun of my directional skills right now?”

He just shrugged, “I mean, you didn’t even know where the office was so..”

“I did to!” You defended, “Jesus, cut me some slack, it’s my first day and a giant literally head butted me. I was probably concussed.”

“Still going with the giant thing I see,” he laughed then shook his head, “and if you are concussed then that’s even more reason for me to walk you to your locker.”

“Okay, valid point,” you nodded then turned and you both headed towards your locker.

“So how are you liking Shield High so far?” He asked as he opened the door for you.

You shrugged as you entered, “it’s alright, I guess.”

“Where did you move here from?”

“Cleveland,” you nodded.

“Wow,” he said slowly, “Buckhannon is a pretty big change from Cleveland.” He chuckled.

You snorted, “That it is.”

And then a silence fell over you both as you just walked down the hall. After a moment Steve cleared his throat and spoke softly, “Do you miss it?”

“What, Cleveland?” You clarified as you looked up at him and he nodded. “Sometimes,” you answered honestly.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why did you move here?”

“Ah,” you frowned slightly trying to think of how to word your answer, not really wanting to ruin the moment, “long story short, we—my dad and I—just needed a change of scenery, I guess.”

“It’s just you and your dad then?” He asked hesitantly.

“Yeah, has been for two years now.”

He nodded then another silence fell over you both. This time you broke it, “cancer.”

“I’m sorry?” He replied.

So you continued, “My mom. She died of cancer, two years ago.”

He stopped walking and you did as well, turning to look up at him. “It’s okay, Steve, you don’t have to say anything,” you waved it off, “I just figured that’s what you wanted to ask, you just didn’t want to ask.” You paused then scrunched up your nose, “Does that even make sense?”

He nodded, “It does.” He paused, then softly added, “my mom went of cancer as well.”

You looked up at him, shocked that you’d both suffered the same tragic lose, to the same person in your lives.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Steve,” you whispered quietly, knowing there were no words for the pain you’d both been through. No words that would fix or change what you’d both been through.

“It’s okay, I was really young when she passed. My Godparents actually adopted me shortly after.” He looked down at you, and you could see the sadness in his eyes, “I’m sorry to you, as well.”

You just nodded and gave him a weak smile, and it looked like he wanted to say more, ask more, but also clearly didn’t want to pry, so you figured changing the subject now was probably a smart idea. Before one of you started crying—most likely you. “So, did you ah,” you cleared your throat, “did you enjoy your summer away?” You asked as you both started walking again.

“I did,” he nodded as you rounded the final corner to your lockers.

“Yeah? Where all did you travel?”

“We spend a week in New York then flew to Sokovia for a few weeks, then spent a few weeks in Wakanda.”

“Oh wow,” you said as you stopped in front of your locker, “that sounds like an amazing way to spend a summer. Wakanda is such a beautiful place.”

“That it is, it’s one of my favourite places to visit. Have you ever been before?”

“Oh gosh, I wish!” You said a little too enthusiastically, then laughed, “I mean, I haven’t been yet, but it’s on my bucket list for sure. I’ve seen lots of photos, though.” You nodded then unlocked your locker and opened it, putting your lunch bag back in and grabbing your gym strip.

“Well, I hope you get to go one day, it’s more than beautiful, it’s breathtaking,” he mused.

Just as you were about to respond the ‘lunch ending soon’ warning bell rang through the halls. Signalling that you only had 5 minutes before lunch was officially over.

“Oh crap,” you jumped slightly, the buzzer catching you completely off guard and heard Steve laugh beside you. You promptly closed your locker, “I have to get to the gym,” you quickly said, then realized you had no fucking clue where that was. Fuck. “Ah, could you maybe,” you trailed off as you looked up at him seeing a smug as fuck smirk form on his face. He was clearly enjoying this moment a little too much.

“Give you directions to the gym?” He filled in, amusedly.

Causing you to scrunched up your nose, and mumbled, “yeah. That.”

He laughed. “Go down this hall,” he pointed passed you, “then take a right, and you’ll see a set of stairs, go down them and the gym will be at the bottom.”

You nodded to everything as he said it. “Hall. Right. Stairs. Gym. Okay, got it.”

“Steve?” You heard a females voice from behind him, and peered around him to see a beautiful girl with shoulder length white blonde hair, in a cheerleading costume, currently standing a few feet away. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” She asked as she eyed you up and down, then crossed her arms and glared at you.

You heard Steve exhale deeply so you looked back up at him. He was now staring passed you, at something down the hall, and he didn’t look to pleased by her request, the opposite of pleased actually. His brows were knitted together in what you could only assume was either anger or frustration. Or maybe both? And his handsome smile was long, long gone. He turned to look at her finally, “what do you want, Madi?”

“I need to talk to you,” she huffed.

“Fine. One second,” he sighed then turned back to you, and once his eyes locked with yours he smiled again. “I’ll see you around, Y/N.” He paused and then that damn smirk was back, “Or at least, hopefully I will. Try not to get lost, okay?”

“Ha ha. You’re hilarious!” You said flatly.

He chuckled, “I get told that all the time!” Then he spun on his heels and headed towards the now clearly irritated cheerleader.

As he walked away the girls strolled up to get their own stuff from their lockers. “Who is that?” You asked them as they did, looking over your shoulder at Steve and the girl—Madi, as he’d said—clearly having an argument of some sort. Though you couldn’t make out what they were saying over all the noise in the hallway.

“Huh?” Hilde looked around, “Who?”

You turned to face your locker again, then nodded your head in the direction of Steve, “the blonde cheerleader Steve is talking to.”

“Ugh,” Nat rolled her eyes and looked passed you at them, “Fucking Madeleine.”

“Who’s Madeleine?” You asked.

“Steve’s ex,” Wanda said over Nat’s shoulder.

“That’s his ex?!” Your eyes widened and you snapped your head back around to look at them again. “Jesus christ she’s pretty.”

“Only on the outside,” Nat grimaced, “trust me, that girl is about as ugly as they get on the inside.”

“Yeah. Steve broke up with her shortly before summer break, but she refuses to accept it. She kept telling everyone all summer that they were still together, but just on a ‘break’.” Wanda explained.

Then Hilde quickly added with a shake of her head, “girl is a stage 5. All the way.”

Still staring over your shoulder at them silently arguing, you asked quietly, “Why did he break up with her?” Your curiosity getting the better of you.

“I duno, Buck said it had something to do with him just not being attracted to her anymore,” Nat responded, and you swung your head around to look at her, catching the end of her shrug. Both of your eyebrows shot up at her words but before you could respond the ‘end of lunch’ bell rang through the halls, once again making you jump. Shit!

You quickly said your goodbyes then headed to the gym. Following Steves directions as you did. Hall, right, stairs, gym.

But all you could think about for the rest of the day was how could he not be attracted to a girl that looked like that?! If he didn’t find her attractive then there wasn’t a hope in hell for you. Nope, it was settled, you’d never stand a fucking chance with him. And you’d be smart to remember that.

Guys like him didn’t date girls like you. This wasn’t some romance movie, this was real life. And in the real world, things hardly ever worked out in your favour. This was clearly going to be one of those things you just accepted and moved on from. First step, stop thinking about how fucking hot he is. Yeah, that’s a good place to start.

However, putting him out of your mind would prove extremely difficult, to say the least. As over the next few days he would be around you, a fucking lot. Both after school, and during. And on top of that he’d end up helping you find many more classrooms and facilities, during those few days.

At some point along the way he’d jokingly nicknamed himself your ‘personal school map’, much to your chagrin. But yet, you were also secretly thankful for him every time he pointed you in the right direction. And every time he did, your secret crush would grow a little bigger, and get a little louder. Which was not a good thing. At all.

July 2018 - Present.

You got out of the truck and headed up to Nat’s front door, but just as you were about to knock it swung open and five bodies slammed into yours. Damn near knocking you over. And the squeals and screaming was deafening.

Once your friends finally untangled themselves from you, you all headed in to catch up. It was such a fun evening, you spent hours relearning your friends and hearing first hand all about their lives and careers.

You opted against drinking as you needed to drive home, but everyone else just drank on your behalf. And at the end of the night, you all said your goodbyes, Nat reminding you about the bridal shower the next day. Then you left and drove home.

When you got home, your dad was already in bed. So you quietly made your way up to your room, finding your second suitcase laying on the end of your bed. You laughed softly to yourself as you pulled it off the bed to put it on the floor. Clearly he’d caved, and brought it up for you.

Then you got into your pjs and climbed into bed, plugging your phone in and putting it on the nightstand. You tossed and turned for a little while then grabbed your phone. You still remembered his number off by heart, which was rather frustrating over the last 7 years as many, many times you had wanted to contact him—Or nearly drunk dialled him. But you’d always manage to talk yourself out of it at the last second. Knowing you didn’t really have any right contacting him. You were the one who had walked away. You were the one who had left him behind without a single word—But, maybe you could now.

You opened a text window and added in his number then started to type. ‘Hey, how was the rest of your day? I hope it’s okay that I’m texting you?’

You groaned realizing you’d forgotten to put your name, since he wouldn’t actually have your new number. Shit. ‘Haha. It would probably help if I told you who it was that was texting you!’

Are you fucking kidding me?! You forgot again. Jesus christ, woman, get it together! ‘Y/N, it’s Y/N. If you hadn’t already clued in to that based off my complete inability to text like a normal fucking person.’

You shook your head then noticed the time at the top of your screen ‘12:15am’ Fuck! ‘OMG! I hope you aren’t sleeping, and here I am blowing up your phone, like an asshole!’

You facepalmed. Yes, send another text, apologizing for sending texts so late. Fantastic plan. You groaned then put your phone back on your night stand, refusing to send any more late night messages to him.

But just as you pulled your hand away from it, it buzzed.

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

@hopefulmoonobject @harlequinash @itsstillnotwhatyouthink @tessvillegas @boxofteenageideas @wangdeasang @giggleberts @casuallydarktiger @theonelittleone @agentbadbitch @ratwrites @starrystellars @bandsandanimefreak @rockyroadthepastryarchy @lovvliies @cuffski @icesoccerer @alwaysright4 @lilsthethrills @imdiegohargreeves @zombiepotterfour @mu-mu-rs @ledandan1244 @straightforwardly @badassbeckettswan @denzmallows @xremember-me-notx

#au fanfiction #fanfiction #long post #long read #marvel au #marvel fanfiction #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #modern!steve rogers x reader #modern!steve #modern!steve rogers #if only you knew #chapter 5 #no super powers here #modern au #alternate universe

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carmen-berzattos · 5 years ago

Note

Ok I just wanna say some things about Jane and Raf, and why Raf is my favorite character on the show. (Low key I never use Tumblr so I'm sorry if this post is weird/ formatted wrong- feel free to repost this on your account in a better format if you want haha). Let me know your thoughts! I think people really underestimate the amount of hardship that Rafael has experienced, specifically regarding his family. (Cont.)

To have a (non-biological) dad never truly be proud of you, to have a mom who chose money over you, to learn that your dad isn’t actually your dad and then learn that he was killed, to be constantly worried about your sister- and much, MUCH more is incredibly tough.

Because of all of these things- all Raf EVER wanted was a family. He works so hard to make sure that despite the fact that he didn’t have the family he deserved, he could provide a healthy family for his kids. So reason #1 why I love him is because he has such a great heart, great intentions, and he’s just trying to do the best he can, despite never having a healthy model for how to be a father and how to raise a family.

And side note, I think when we see Raf go into his dark place of drinking and stuff, I think it’s reasonable for people to be critical- but I also think that it makes a lot of sense. He’s got a LOT on his plate, constant pressure that he places on himself to be a good dad, past trauma that he likely hasn’t fully dealt with, and non-consistent support from Jane depending on the part of the show you’re at.

Secondly, one reason I don’t support Jane and Michael is that he perpetually sacrifices his own wants and passions in order to please Jane. I think a lot of people view this as sweet and romantic, but in a healthy relationship, both partners are able to thrive as individuals by going after what they love. The fact that Michael is repeatedly okay with giving up his job for Jane shows that he has to give up a part of himself to be with Jane, and that’s not fair to him.

And Michael just has this chivalrous yet entitled vibe to him that I don’t really like. Like when he was pissed that Jane went on a date after she met him, and that she wasn’t home when he brought her soup. So then he whole ass abused his authority as a police officer by pulling her date over.

Like that whole situation, which was one of the foundational parts of their relationship, was just obnoxious because he acted like he was being selfless by bringing her soup, and a lot of people viewed it as sweet. But in actuality, he wasn’t there out of simple kindness, because if he was he’d drop off the soup and leave. He’s doing all this to win Jane over. He thinks that she must pick him just because he likes her, despite the fact that she also gets to decide for herself what she wants.

But the whole thing of Michael sacrificing his own wants for Jane isn’t the case wth Raf because he, from the start, is Jane’s biggest supporter when it comes to writing. And Raf is pretty honest about his commitment to the hotel, which is what caused problems with their relationship in the beginning- but at least he was true to his own desires.

Then his wants and passions shifted to his kids/ family, and then he worked towards that. And what we see right now, which I’m proud of him for, is him saying that it isn’t fair for him to be dragged along and hurt in the process of Jane trying to figure things out for herself. I respect that she needed to do that, but I applaud Raf for looking out for himself.

I think with the recent episodes what we get to see, is Jane working hard to be the partner Raf deserves- which is great because throughout this ENTIRE show, Raf had tried so so hard to get Jane to choose him. Now Raf must choose Jane, which is an interesting and important shift. Although this is a tough situation, Raf doesn’t feel as powerless and out of control as he’s felt at other points.

Wow, nonnie, let me first and foremost thank you for this incredibly well-thought out thread. I love it so much. And I agree with all of what you said, with the exception of a couple of places, and will simply add on to your points for the most part.

I resonate so much with everything that you said about Rafael. He’s been through so much since the start of the show and it’s like a nonstop shitstorm for him. From his wife cheating on him with his best friend and all the way to the recent development. Not to mention the issue of his cancer earlier on before the show started. It’s been a rough life for Raf. And the problem is that the writers never actually allowed him a break? He doesn’t get to process? Not on-screen anyways and not off-screen either. Rafael’s mental health issue has been reduced to the issue of him sinking into “his dark place” instead of an actual, legitimate issue of depression and potential substance abuse. And that’s what I’ve always begrudged the writers for. Even this season, when they decided to somewhat give him this SL, we still didn’t get to experience it. And I honestly have no idea whether we’re going to be seeing anymore of it or if we were supposed to take that one episode where he was taking anti-depressants as them “dealing” with the issue of his mental health. And honestly, if that’s all we’re getting, then …. *biggest and longest of sighs*.

What you said about him wanting a family is really important, too. I see a lot of people ridiculing Rafael for being insecure about Michael. And I’m like, but that makes total sense that he would feel this way? He has serious, deep-rooted abandonment issues that stem from his earlier family life. His father (adoptive father) treated him as lesser and never quite trusted him or had faith in him. His mother abandoned him for money. And when she returned, she only did so to take advantage of him and take something for her criminal master plan. And then he found out that neither of them were his biological parents and the question becomes: who abandoned him in the first place so he would end up with them. So, yes, Raf has Jane and Petra and Mateo and the twins and the Villanuevas, to an extent, but that doesn’t magically make it so that his abandonment issue are dealt with and he’s all good and dandy. That’s not how it works with deep-seated childhood issues. It might not be ideal of him to react so strongly to Michael’s presence, but his fear of losing the love of his life to Michael, AGAIN, makes total sense to me. I hope he’d reacted differently, but I also get it. This is hard and painful for him and is in line with his character.

And I agree with you that him choosing to remove himself from that situation is also good and healthy for him. I keep seeing people calling him selfish for choosing himself, for closing himself emotionally from a person who hurt him so much. It is besides the point that Jane never intended to hurt him, and that’s important to note, but it’s entirely besides the point. The results of our actions are not always what we intend. Doesn’t mean that they didn’t happen anyways. Such is life. So Rafael deciding that he will not sit around waiting for Jane to make a decision between him and Michael again when it became clear to him that he was not always unflinchingly her choice the way that she has been for him, Rafael deciding that he needs to protect his heart and closing off this part of himself emotionally, deciding that he and Jane are good as coparents but he doesn’t want the romance anymore, is actually a good thing for him, it’s good growth and character development. Because now he’s no longer looking for validation from his relationship with Jane to believe in his self worth. He’s saying, no, this is painful and I don’t want to be in this situation and I need to take care of myself. And him not jumping back into a relationship with Jane the moment she decided that this is what she wants now, him knowing his boundaries and being in tune with his needs and not caving is a good thing for him. This is not something that Rafael would have done a few seasons ago and I’m proud of him for that.

I think for me the main problem with Michael has always been how one-note he feels. His only true defining characteristic is that he loves Jane and that’s that. Everything else about him takes second place to this love that he has for Jane. Which is all good and nice but if I can’t bring myself to care about one half of the ship because they don’t feel real to me, then I can’t bring myself to fully ship them. I still appreciate their scenes and all, but honestly I look at Michael and I’m like, who are you and what do you want out of life other than Jane? Like he went through all this trauma and losing his memories and all he wants now and all he feels is that he loves Jane?????? He doesn’t feel pain???? No resentment that she moved on and is happy????? My brother kept pointing out that there is no way in hell he wouldn’t feel at least a little bit of resentment that Jane is happy and moved on with Rafael of all people. And he’s right. But all Michael can say is I want you to be happy, so much so that it’s frustrating. Human emotions are complex until Michael is concerned and it frustrates me how he is just a cardboard cut of a Perfect Man.

And of course Rafael would look bad in comparison, since he seems to display a wider range of emotions and generally act like a normal human person, but I digress.

I do think the recent shift in dynamic is going to bring a refreshing take on Jane and Rafael’s relationship like it did last episode. I thought seeing Jane as an utter disaster was really interesting and entertaining since we’ve never seen her in this light before. It’s really fun for me to watch this dynamic and I really look forward to seeing where it’ll take us.

Again, thanks so much for such a thoughtful thread, friend. you’re awesome!

#anon #answered #rafael solano #jafael #jane the virgin #Anonymous #only putting this in the jtv tag bc i want it in my blog's tag #for the show #not inviting discourse per se #long post

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ts-2020-olympics · 5 years ago

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Episode 6 - “The Level of Disgust I Have” - Karen

so i flopped in the arena.. but i do be staying sitting pretty considering the fact that i’ve survived every tribal with no votes even when my name is brought up! so cheers to that

So I've just blown up the entire Miraitowa chat exposing Nicole and Jacob C as fantastic liars, yet Sammy doesnt have enough sense in his head to make his own decisions and go with the more trustworthy people. Honestly pray for a swap because this tribe is a fucking mess and the returnees are just picking off all the newbies, making this season boring as shit.

So, that boring ass alliance of 4 with Eve on the bottom probably wont break up for anything. That sucks, but I still have my extra vote. If Landen can win immunity, they'll all want to vote Eve, so then I can reveal to Eve and Landen I have an extra vote. Then we all vote together and make those bitches go to rocks and make this shit actually entertaining.

I honestly feel two things 1) I’m a fool and 2) I’m leaving this round. I just feel like it’s my time and it just sucks because I got played into doing all the dirty work for a bunch of stinky little men. So here’s the lowdown of what happened: I explained in my last confessional that we voted out Pete and that I felt like I was going to get fucked over because I was doing all the talking! Well. Essentially that. Basically when Pete came back there was a lot of information spilled and I was left to try to tell the truth without telling the whole truth (which was that we built this tribe to kill the newbies off which NOW IM NOT EVEN SURE IS TRUE.) So Landen tells us that Juls told Sammy and Jacob about her power, not just TOLD SAMMY AND JACOB. Offered to use her power on Jacob and Sammy. And they said NO and let it be used on Landen, essentially putting Kevin in the hot seat. So I’m kind of mad. I think I’m leaving this round like I just feel it in my gut but, maybe not. Who knows, who cares, I’m tired.

Counting helped at my grandma's place to unwind. Not hearing boring, inane tripe from Darcy also helps. He's boring. I hate boring people. Also he voted for me, so why trust him?

So I found out Eve left me for dead as well and she flips to them for no reason instead of talking to the person she’s been with since day 1. At the start i told her i’m watching her back for her and I’ve done that, now that I try talking to her out of fear for her safety, she doesn’t care to talk. It’s okay though that’s the game, it’s good that I know that now though so i don’t waste my extra vote lol

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First off, I once again had no luck in the Olympic Village, nothing in the pool, so if something was there, someone else must have found the things already. Secondly, a trio was formed between Tommy, Beck and I, where I already told both of them that I wanted to go to merge with them both, and that is 100% the truth, I trust those two the most on my tribe at the moment, and been having the best talks with them both in this game so far on my tribe. So I would love making merge with the two of them. Thirdly, I won individual immunity, which I actually think this is my first time winning individual immunity in an org, so am grateful to achieve that goal, although I didn't have to go all out to the 10k mark lmao. Also, from what I got told from Tommy, Ben wanted to get me out if I had lost this immunity, so being safe feels that much greater, and I want Ben out now moment he isn't immune. Plus had Ben call me a no lifer in the main chat after results got posted, so of course, I had to try to defend myself somewhat, as I'm not going to stand around and get claimed a no lifer, even though it is partially the truth due to being unemployed, but I do hang out with friends and stuff. Anyways, Ben did apologize shortly afterwards for his words, which I appreciate the apology, but that doesn't change the fact that I want him out asap, since well he wants me out. In terms of this vote though, if everything goes good, I think it will be Juls getting the boot, but we shall see what happens. I am safe for this round, and made final 17, so no matter what I am safe, just hopefully my allies in Tommy and Beck can both survive this vote as well.

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I think we've come to the end of the road for me, which sucks. I really don't want to lose this game, especially so early. I hate big casts, truly. Anyway, either way this night is gonna fuck me over. Two things could be happening tonight: 1) I get rid of Jacob and then Kevin is mad at me, Sammy is mad I got rid of Jacob, I sever my ties with Beck and Juls, I have to rely on my returnee ties and new newbie ties but, the new newbies don't like me either. So I'd essentially be screwed, but I've already promised it. 2) We get rid of Eve, and I lie to Eve, AGAIN. Which I really don't want to do. Although she's a little bit of a wishy washy woman, I don't want to betray Eve's trust because she's actually so sweet, and I'd value a friendship with her going forward in this game. I think I normally succeed in games where I can cultivate genuine friendships and feel like I truly have someone to rely on. I think I'm seeing that more and more with Kevin and Karen, but I don't know if that's 100% genuine either. Either way I'm not winning this game, so if I lose tonight I'll just reduce it down to I played too big too fast and I'll know better for next time around. Being the first winner out would really suck. But, I don't know. I'm just kind of nervous I ruined my game for people who don't care if I go and that's probably the worst feeling (and I'd know, seeing as I have gotten 0 votes at FTC, two times!) Anyway, I'll check back in later if we do come up with a plan that doesn't make me feel like utter shit, which is not likely at this point in time.

Y’all lemme tell you, Miraitowa is a fuckin mess fuck this tribe i can’t wait for the swap lmao. Okay so basically the voting block that took me out exploded and is eating itself. Jacob C and Nicole are telling the exact same story except they’re accusing the other person of creating the alliance and voting me. Honestly idc it was probably a team effort between the both of them, i’m trying to have the vote end up as the worst case possible for that alliance so it officially never reconnects. Here’s how it breaks down: Jacob C, Sammy, and Eve are all trying to get Nicole out. Nicole is trying to get Jacob C out. Kevin is a fuckin wild card, I thought he’d be with Nicole but who the fuck knows man. If Landen and I let Nicole go, we’d still be on the bottom of the same alliance minus Nicole so right now we need to confirm that Kevin is voting with Nicole and we can break apart some of Jacob’s connections.

Oh my god a triple tribal council. Y'all can't give us a break?!?!?! This season is going to have the most tribal council I swear. This is at least an opportunity to get out Juls, who I think will be my biggest threat if I let her slip past this vote because she's dangerous and able to get along with so many people. This twist I think will prove to be a good way to get Juls out because she has to face two people and unless the other tribe puts total duds in terms of challenge competition she will go home if sent to the arena. As part of strategy when Ben told me he was coming for Darcy, I told Darcy right before he won immunity that Ben was after him but I said I heard it from Karen. This way it shows that Karen is willing to keep Darcy but it gives me more trust with Darcy than Karen because I was the one who told Darcy. We had a call Darcy, Beck, and Myself and finally made a trio alliance which I think will benefit me at certain points in the game because they may have really good potential to draw in people to work with. I think I convinced them I can draw in Karen as a makeshift fourth for our group to have a majority. However, I trust Karen for now in the long scheme I think I will just maintain a good standing with her but not tell them as much. As for now I'm just down with this plan Myself, Beck, Darcy, and Karen are going for to blindside Juls and hopefully my plan to get rid of Juls pans out and we are able to officially eliminate her. If we go to tribal again Ben makes an easy next boot, this keeps the 4 people I'm closest to on the tribe on the tribe as long as possible (Karen, Beck, Darcy, and Caeleb.) The only problems I see if Juls goes is that either she wins a Gold medal and/or Caeleb loses trust which both have a chance of happening but I think this risk will be worth the reward. It's a high risk high reward situation.

People are quiet, and I hope it's because of inactivity Jordan and Emma seem fine with voting Sarah, and that should be all needed. Chris isn't responding but I don't think he's around. Sarah hasn't even read my message today lol

honestly at this point my tribe is a disaster and i feel like the prince, just sitting on my throne with immunity and looking down with a horrified gaze like... what the FUCK is happening... y'all-. Ever since when I was first blindsided by seeing Pete leave everything went insane. Sammy called for damage control, it was all obvious bullshit. i won the medal at the arena, thank the lord, i did intentionally volunteer knowing i NEEDED that bonus, but thank god i got it for individual immunity instead! i was able to *ahem* secure the bag, and i did that while also going as hard as i can with my social manipulation skills. everyone thought i was just some newbie or some quiet anxious guy that doesn't know how to crack the premade and will never be able to put up a fight but they were wrong. They should not have underestimated me because I was able to expose the lies they told themselves and each-other. In all their efforts to outplay one another, they ended up soiling their own defeat. i told nicole about how sammy/jacob omitted the information about juls' power, and i continuously threatened everyone through jokes to remind them 'I'm still counting, and I've been counting for 24 hours. I'm going to win immunity, and you'll have to turn on eachother.' this madness led to nicole throwing sammy/jacob under the bus right before challenge ended, and of course, they returned the favor. This has led to a paranoia induced voting period where honestly, i still don't even know what's happening. it's very likely the tribal is LIVE tonight. the fear and stress comes in in that i really don't want to lie to sammy after the conversations we had, i really want to be truthful with him. but thinking about my individual game, keeping Jacob C and Eve in just makes no sense. They both have no interest in working with me long term and they both are connected with a ton of people that I want to have loyalty to. Getting rid of them frees up Caeleb and Juls a little bit for me, so I would really like to take them down. But working with Nicole, Kevin, and Pete is going to put me in a tight spot where Sammy is furious, potentially with an idol, and feels like I was a hypocrite with him. That's going to be really hard. But Eve and Jacob are just. VERY bad for my game. They both limit my working relationships with other people a ton. They both make this game.. quite difficult to navigate for me. And they both have zero interest in working with me. It's hard to play Sammy like this, I am gonna feel awful for this. But, you gotta do what you gotta do, and with a swap possibly coming soon... This is what I gotta do. It's shark week (thanks Kevin) and blood is about to get shed.

Hello I hate these hosts......all tribes going to tribal??????? The level of disgust I have .... so Ben returned after being voted kmssss I know mans will be gunning for me ugh I wish I won immunity but like Darcy fuckn snapped fhdgggg. So with this tribal coming up Darcy wants to take out juls, with me tommy and becks voting together. The only person I’m if-y on is becks atm bc becks is close to juls allegedly. Also caeleb and Juls haven’t been spoken to all day which is like yikes bc that could mean they’d vote for me, i think may I could throw becks under the bus just in case. Slim picking that’s for sure ugh why is the game like this. Also I’ve been talking to nicole and kev and they seem to be struggling on their tribe & hope neither go bc then I’d have to keep working with tommy lol /:. Also I’ve been told juls is the one who exiled Landon so 👀👀👀👀👀thats so suspect!!!!! Juls & becks seem kinda shady to me so I’m gonna have to monitor them. Ugh I hope I’m not getting played tonight or else it might just be bye bye Karen

I’m in a peculiar position. I don’t want Eve to go, Jacob C is way bigger a threat to me but we have to keep nicole and that group is set on Eve....... god i’m hoping we’re right.

hello confessional! i'm an awful person and this is the third time in an org that i've fucked over juls somehow and i feel terrible about it. unfortunately with the new alliance that tommy made for us voting out anyone else besides caeleb or juls was not an option and caeleb is rly good at challenges so.... but yeah! tonight fucking sucked. kinda hope juls comes back but i also don't bc she will be out for my blood and you know what? i deserve it

Nicole’s gone, I’m happy about it, it’s what she deserves truely. Over this stupid fucking tribe, CHOKE all of you

I feel really bad about this vote. I new Jacob was going home, but I had to vote with him to make sure that he’ll still be on my side if he comes back from arena.

The game is getting spicy. This is my confession 👀

WELLLLLLLL babes basically this round started out with landen and pete coming back and trying to yell at the four from the previous majority, after we lied to their faces and then they did not take it well. After all the fighting was said and done we all got to counting and by all i mean me and landen, whom beat me thanks to his silver medal. Even though i counted higher, but alas the past is in the past. After that the game really got going cause we had to go to TRIBAL !!! which fucking sucked because we basically only had 1 option for our "alliance" which was eve, i started talking to the 2 safe bois to see where they were at and the didnt like eve or had some issues with eve, so i thought we could capitalize on that and just unan it on eve, but when i woke up that was simply NOT AN OPTION because the night before nicole had said jacobs name to nicole, without informing the alliance nor jacob personally what she said. This was followed by eve telling jacob immediately after what was said which lead jacob to distrust nicole which in turn made sammy distrust nicole, waking up in the middle of this was not ideal because i had no way to prevent it so i had to work with the situation as best as possible. After talking to everyone on the tribe it literally seemed to be a vote between jacob and nicole with no wiggle room. However as the day moved on i wanted to try and sneak eves name into the mix, after talking to pete and landen some who both confessed they wanted to work with me i pitched to them that potentially voting Eve and then keeping Nicole and Jacob mad at each other for future rounds to cover us, to which they seemed to take well to but werent very eager to do right away. After that i had to reel nicole in and get her to send her vote to Eve which worked until we found out that Sammy has an idol !!! Which he could use on himself orrrrrr EVE, so basically we had to tread carefully after this point and we had to lie to Sammy, pete/landen said they were doing nicole and nicole said she was doing sammy himself, i didnt lie i said i felt like eve was my only option and i worked with that, but still people did lie to him, and I tried to plant seeds in his head to play the idol on himself cause potentially he could save eve, but i wanted him to worry about himself first. After all the drama there was the calm before the storm.. and then the storm hit hard as fuck. We had a plan and a majority until minutes before tribal when nicole told jacob we were voting eve to keep him in the loop and probably turn him off of her, which he was fine with! But landen and pete felt betrayed that nicole would disclose our information to someone else, so when they heard that they scrambled and Pete wanted us to flip onto Jacob, while Landen coincidentallyyy voted for Nicole, which ultimately resulted in a 3-3-1, i tried to flip sammy or pete to keep nicole but to avail ... rip nicole. After tribal eve was obviously mad about getting votes, Sammy was mad about getting lied to and Landen and Pete were proven flakes, i did my best to save face and keep my ducks in a row with sammy, pete, and landen but only time will tell if i did a good enough job. As for the rest of the game i really hope that nicole comes back because she was, surprisingly, my closest ally in this game and i need her as a shield. But im sad that juls got out and while I want her to come back too i would prefer nicole, for game purposes but i would be just as happy to see juls return if she can pull it off. Welp, good luck charlie.

So I got voted out. I think I’m good with it though. I’m very much “whatever happens happens” at this point, because in my opinion I think I’m done with this game. There’s a lot of factors that I just don’t like about it, and that’s not saying anything about the hosts because I love Monty and Gage, I think I’ve spoken about this before in other games I’ve been in but I really can’t play games where you spend 24 hours sitting around. It hinders me so bad to just be sitting, not doing a challenge or anything, especially with 25 people around, it’s hell. There are a lot of things that annoy me in this game. One being that the newbies are like...mean as fuck lol. Like they just come in guns blazing and really don’t care what they say to other people, or they’re just dead and no help at all. Eve was honestly a nasty brat, and I’m just calling it how I saw it. She demanded trust, and that’s not a good way to get people to actually trust you. She came up with a majority of five people, she assumed I’d vote out Kevin, and yes I lied a little (bc it’s survivor) but you’d think I literally had been working with her since Day One and stabbed her in the back. We had maybe 24 hours of conversation. If I lied to Kevin, I’d feel terrible. You think I feel bad lying to someone I only talked to once who planted a five person majority without my main ally in it? Like, for real? It makes no sense. Landen doesn’t like lying either like....alright go do you homework and stop playing survivor then. DO YOU KNOW WHERE WE ARE? And the funny thing is, all of these people lied to me. Eve went behind my back. Jacob sent screenshots (which is cheating but somehow I’m here and he’s not) to Sammy. Sammy literally didn’t tell me he had an advantage and told me he didn’t know about Juls advantage. Landen Said he voted Jacob. Pete said he didn’t know the plan. Kevin, I’m hoping he was honest because he’s the only reason I’m happy I played this game. Kevin is SO nice and so genuine, I hope it’s not an act for the game but I know I put him THROUGH IT this round so I’m contemplating just giving up, for his sake, because if I come back it’s likely gonna be..a bit of a mess for him. I know I might need to come back to save Kevin and Jacob, moreso Kevin bc Jacob can go kick rocks. Anyway back to Sammy for a second. I’ve always seen Sammy as this nice little man who is so kind, but I REALLY saw an ugly side of him this round. Like, I don’t think I’ll ever see him the same again. I hope he loses to literally anyone. I don’t think he deserves to win and out of everyone I’m most mad at him. He’s a hypocrite who can make you feel bad you lied to protect yourself from him because he lied to you first, and sure that helps in Survivor but that’s downright ugly and I don’t respect that at all. He lied to me CONTINUOUSLY throughout the day, leaking every word I said to Eve. Only to be mad at me because I lied to him...to misdirect his idol? TO MISDIRECT HIS IDOL HE DIDNT EVEN TELL ME ABOUT BECAUSE HE DIDNT TRUST ME. And for him to try to pull an apology out from me and make me feel bad...sit down. Nobody makes me feel bad or can twist my emotions like that so, nice try. And in such an obvious and public manner like...who taught you to be the way you are lmao. That’s so rude. I hope he loses is the point. Honestly I’m kind of like over playing and I know juls really has a fire in her heart to continue playing with these god awful people who have snaked us. She’s a little queen and I hope she wins it if I can’t, because she deserves to! My plan is to just hold on until Jacob drops (assuming it’s pressure cooker) and then decide there if I want to go in or not. I also want to put out a disclaimer that I’m ranting about everyone else bc I’m mad but I know I fucked up, too. I lied way too much for unecessary reasons that seemed necessary at the time with advantages in play. I trusted people based on personal knowledge of their heart and how kind they are, which was wrong. Jacob and Sammy both showed me their ugly sides, and I showed mine as well so I mean I’m not going to sit here and act innocent. I can see EACH mistake I made and how I could have played better. I hope Sammy and Jacob both get premerge, hope Landen gets yeeted into the sun, or a lesson in manners bc lord knows he doesn’t have any and just wants to be that That Iconic Newbie that newsflash nobody wants to cast again, and I hope juls prospers if I fail at the arena challenge. Manifest manifest manifest. I literally feel like in my brain there is no possible way I’m going to be back in this game and if I do come back, I’m just going to get voted out again. So it’s a hard choice deciding if I want to or not. I promised Juls I’d outlast Jacob B but after that, I’m not sure. I feel like I don’t even have it in me, because if I really saw a chance at winning. I just feel like I’ve made a fool of myself and let men make a fool out of me, and it’s time to go home, rest, recuperate and come back to kick ass another day.

So we had a live tribal last night and everything is a MESS now! It's my birthday and so I'm trying to stay in a good mood and not think about the game, but honestly, stuff is pretty stressful. My plan WAS to take out Eve the whole time, I was fully on board with it and I do believe it was the right move for me at the time. Unfortunately Nicole decided to go insane and blow up the entire plan by telling Jacob and having everything blow up at tribal council which is just... ugh. It made it clear she was trying to rebuild the majority and force the power structure back in place, so that's why I had to make sure she went home. She showed unreliability and a willingness to turn that I couldn't have in the game, that's the whole reason I wanted to take out Eve. Because I need allies in this game who will work with me and who have interest in working with ME. Nicole seemed like she could be a useful person in the game, but as soon as her fight with Jacob ended and they started to try and take control again, it was too late. I had to get rid of her. Sadly she'll probably come back from the arena and that's going to make things... Messy. It's going to become a game of who can use Sammy the best, and I just hope I can win that game. But I've told him too many lies and that comes off hypocritical. It sucks because I feel guilty about it, AND hopeless in the game. But I dunno. We'll just have to see. Not to mention I lost Juls somehow, and EVERYONE seems to be shocked that she was voted out. That is not good for my game at all as she was somebody I was really relying on and also I just love her. So losing her absolutely sucks. I'm really hoping she can come back from the Arena. The game is turning into a downward spiral for me and fast. People are predicting a swap, and at that point, it's the best I can hope for. I got Eve with me now on the brightside, and I know I could reel in Caeleb, Jordan, probably even Ben.... Things are getting very bloody very quickly in a game as competitive as this one, and I just pray I can wind up on the right side of things with a swap. Being on the bottom this time was deadly and detrimental to my game - I have played extremely hard, cutthroat, fierce, and overall just like.. WELL. Not to toot my own horn but I have played VERY good on both Sonkei and Miraitowa, and there's a lot on my resume for if I do manage to make it to the end. But if I keep just giving everything 120% and making these power moves and making enemies and such as I go, I'll have no chance. I really need a stage in the game where I can sit back and kind of just relax and be this UTR force, that people aren't taking so much notice of. Form more social bonds. Also, fuck the olympic idol hunt or whatever. I suck at it but other people have gotten so many advantages. EEP!

I was about to be super proud of the fact that this was the earliest I made a confessional in a round all game, just to realize its still only 5 hours before the deadline so like is that even good? long story short I had to fuck over jacob this round which sucked cause i loved jacob but we went to too many tribals and like... im running out of options. I made a new alliance of me emma stoner and sarah which like lowkey is a good call because we have one person from 4/5 starting tribes we are as well connected to each other as we can be right now. I need us to swap not cause I would go home, I genuinly think if we kept losing I could get down on this tribe to just me and one more person if needed but like... can we not I'm so tired. Bring on the swap, i need new people to manipulate!

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#zestypowerfuluniqueflavorfulhealthy #confessionals

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feynites · 6 years ago

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Scum Villain AU

Welp, fell down a rabbit hole of translations for novels written by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu, and my brain would not let go of the idea for a Scum Villain sharkbait AU. I blame @pyrrhy also for being a fantastic enabler.

So, this is a thing now! But first, on Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System, the general synopsis is that a book reviewer dies suddenly with his last thoughts being of how unsatisfied he was with the harem/stallion novel he just finished reading. He finds himself subsequently transported into the body of a minor ‘scum’ villain from said book, with the task of fixing/improving the story. Of course, the character he’s currently been cast as was, in the original novel, dismembered and killed by the protagonist.

In the interests of not having that happen, our intrepid hero immediately starts trying to suck up to the protagonist. He does a good job. In fact he does such a good job that the protagonist ends up falling in love with him, and therein lies the core of the story’s shenanigans.

If you wanna read the translations, it’s ongoing here at bc novels. For other works by the same author, there’s Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation (Mo Dao Zu Shi, which also has an animated series) over here at Exiled Rebels Scanlations, and Heaven’s Official Blessing is being translated here at Sakhyulations. Translating is hard work so if you read and enjoy any of ‘em, it’s nice to consider donating to the sites, too!

Some of the above stories definitely fall into problematic pitfalls of the slash genre, though. While I am a big fan of the pacing and storytelling Mo Xiang Tong Xiu pulls off and love her characters, I’ve been forewarned on some issues too. As I’m still reading my way through I can’t give my personal assessment on a lot of that stuff or offer more in-depth warnings for everything. But it should probably be mentioned.

Warnings For This Fic in Particular: At the outset of our story, Uthvir is underage. No romance is gonna take place while they are, but when they meet Thenvunin is an 18 year-old posing as their teacher, and Uthvir is 15. This is a slow burn. I also follow the original plot points of the story pretty closely but change up the order/direction of some things, too.

Additional Notes: In the original novel, the story that the lead character gets sucked into is a fantasy/cultivation novel hybrid with elements from a whole thwack of other genres, too. I’m leaning more heavily into the fantasy stuff because I don’t have much experience with cultivation novels, just for reference, but it should be noted that a lot of the story elements draw expressly from Chinese culture and I can take no credit for them - just in case anyone who’s totally new to these genres reads along. Also, I took some liberty with the names of things, because just throwing in Chinese words seemed unfitting and I’m not following the entire script on world-building elements. (Plus, in the novel, the story’s author is notoriously bad at naming things anyway.)

Alright, my apologies for the huge stack of notes/explanations! Please enjoy reading. The characters Calain and Jhe’andal (not seen in this chapter but bound to appear later) belong to @pyrrhy, who’s graciously loaned them to me so I can mess around.

“Stupid author, stupid novel!”

Thenvunin was not entirely surprised that those ended up being the last words he uttered in life. Though he is rather regretful about it. But at the time, processing the sudden failure of his ongoing health treatments had been harder than just fixating on the fact that, probably, the last book he was ever going to read in his life had been that terrible trainwreck of a harem fantasy novel.

That popular disaster of a book, ‘Immortal Demon Way’. With records broken on copies sold, but most critics more or less agreeing that it was mindless dreck. Except, the problem was, it wasn’t really ‘mindless’ dreck. There had been parts that were really promising. That was the real tragedy of the entire mess. The story had plenty of interesting side-characters and concepts, some intriguing world-building, even the promise of genuinely engaging content. But all of it had been tethered to a truly terrible main plotline. A black hole of a plot that managed to be boring and offensive by turns, even if the protagonist did manage to come across as somewhat compelling once in a blue moon.

Because ‘Immortal Demon Way’ was pure self-indulgent trash. The leading character, Uthvir, was one of those characters whose tragic life led them onto a dark path of retribution and conquest. Despite being pure-hearted in their youth, the constant mistreatment from people around them eventually blackened their heart, until they were the sort of person who wear a friendly smile while torturing a man to death. And naturally, over the course of the story, they managed to accumulate a truly massive harem, all filled with beautiful women. Even though the author - writing under an anonymous pen name of ‘Half-Demon Prince’, had come out and said that the character wasn’t exclusively attracted to women - that claim never manifested in the actual text. Which made the whole gesture feel quite performative.

Honestly, Thenvunin probably would have never picked up the book if he didn’t need to review it for the site he worked for. He’d never been fond of harem works, where the hero collects love interests like they’re filling up a basket of flowers. It had less to do with the numbers involved, and more to do with the sheer fact that more love interests usually meant less development on any particular relationship. Plus, inevitably, there would be scheming plotlines within the harem, and Thenvunin had never liked reading about women causing one another to miscarry or murdering each other’s babies to try and keep ahead in ranking. Luckily, ‘Immortal Demon Way’ hadn’t included a lot of such content, and what was there had been easy to skip. Enough so that Thenvunin had found himself speed-reading most of the ‘romantic’ parts. A sure sign of failure, given that romance was his actual preferred genre.

But yes, all in all, ‘Immortal Demon Way’ was one of those stories he would have been happy not to think about ever again. And instead, it had ended up being his last thought in life.

Well…

In his old life, at any rate.

But somehow, after he had died, he had found himself hearing an odd robot voice in his mind. Sort of like one of those automatic screen-readers.

W. ..what…?

“...What’s going on?” Thenvunin had asked.

The obvious question, really. He had felt panicked, or rather, like he should be panicked, but also like everything he could feel was very far away. Shock? He’d gone into shock before. It was a similar sensation, but not exact. But then again, there could be a lot of variables with that sort of thing. Everywhere around him just looked blurry, and pale. As if he was standing in a very modern office and wearing smudged glasses. He wondered if he’d survived after all, and if this latest disaster in his health had damaged his eyes so badly.

It was a chilling thought. Or, it should have been.

World? What world?

“I don’t understand,” Thenvunin said. “Am I in the hospital? Where’s my mother?”

That last question was perhaps more embarrassing than he would have liked, but it didn’t seem as if he was feeling embarrassment too keenly, either. And his mother always came whenever he was hospitalized. Thenvunin was only eighteen, and had been sick all of his life. Naturally, his mother worried a great deal about him, and the hospital staff knew to inform her whenever he had a serious incident.

Deceased…?

Thenvunin reeled, and even with his current level of detachment, struggled to process it all. He tried asking the “system” more questions, but none of them seemed to garner satisfactory answers. Asking who had created it didn’t get him anywhere. Nor did asking how it knew anything about him. Asking what this whole ‘Immortal Demon Way’ project was just prompt a repeat of the ‘story goals’ - it sounded like he was being moved into a story in order to fix it? Like a sort of virtual reality?

He had a great deal of trouble processing the whole concept.

But then, there didn’t seem to be anything for him to do but accept it in the end, either. It could all be a trick, but, Thenvunin did remember dying. Or something that felt close enough to it that he couldn’t bring himself to take that risk. He was afraid of dying; afraid enough that he could feel it, even as he drifted in that strange ‘waiting room’.

It was a feeling that followed him as he woke up in another strange room. But this time it was one he could see. His heart was hammering in his chest, and he felt like he had a terrible headache. The room around him definitely wasn’t a hospital, however. As he sat up, he could see sunlight streaming through several beautiful, open windows. The air smelled fresh, like the mountains he had visited once, before his father left. He sits up to find himself laid out in a comfortable bed, with a clothe on his brow, and a very light but comfortable robe on his body. The pale green fabric is the same colour as his eyes, but he only stares at it for a moment before his attention is arrested by something else.

His body.

Which is… definitely not his body.

There’s a curtain of long, wavy hair falling down past his shoulders. His chest is broad and… chiseled? How could he possibly have a chiseled chest? And his arms are muscular, and long, and utterly devoid of the scars he had gotten from his car crash eight months ago, when he had tried to drive himself to the hospital and veered into a lamppost instead. Thenvunin is almost too shocked to move, but after a moment, he finds himself hurriedly pushing back the blankets and looking at the rest.

His legs - !

His legs look… they look good! Moreover, as he moves, he’s startled to realize that he doesn’t feel any pain. None at all, apart from his headache. Under other circumstances he would assume he was on some heavy painkillers, but obviously, this might not even be the case? He moves his legs and marvels at the ease of it, swivels his hips and feels nothing, and after a minute he cannot help but leap out of bed and begin jumping around, amazed and entranced…

…And more than a little disconcerted. This body is totally, completely different from his own. He looks down at it and intellectually knows that he’s inside of it, but it scarcely feels that way. After a few minutes of either celebrating or panicking, or possibly both, Thenvunin finally locates a full-body mirror next to a dressing station in one corner of the room.

He stares uncomprehendingly at himself.

His eyes are the same, and his hair is the same - if somewhat longer, he thinks - and there’s a certain congruity between his facial features. But the man staring back at him is undeniably, completely different. He looks both strong and elegant, somehow. More muscular than Thenvunin would have ever idealized himself as, but the strength in those muscles is making him feel slightly giddy as he moves. And he’s tall. He’s not stooping over in the least, not struggling to keep his shoulders straight, feeling no pain from his surprisingly trim waistline…

It can’t be him!

He’s still trying to reconcile the idea when he realizes he has no clue who this character is, either. From the system, he gathered that he was going to be transported into an existing character’s body. But there are a few who might match the description of this one, and even more who were mostly undescribed. The only thing he knows for certain is that he is not Uthvir; they would not be so tall.

Right?

System, who am I supposed to be?

He freezes in place, at the sound of the response which he can somehow tell is purely in his own mind.

Did the system just call him a virgin…?

How would it know?!

Although it seemed to know everything. Thenvunin paused in embarrassment, before the rest of the message finally registered. His character is Thenevunin Thenerassan…?

Wait, ‘Thenerassan’? That villain? The corrupt instructor who was always taking time to abuse and harass Uthvir, when they were still young and full of hope for the future? He’d never even realized the character had a first name! Though admittedly, he hadn’t read all of the author’s shared notes and ‘tidbits’ on social media. For a moment he is thoroughly offended. How dare this horrible character share his name!

And then he remembers.

Thenerassan…

Thenerassan dies in this story!

And not peacefully, oh no. After years of abusing Uthvir and then finally betraying them utterly at the grand tournament, the hero comes back seeking vengeance, with their heart blackened and ruthless. They utterly decimate Thenerassan’s reputation, until there is no one on earth who would pity him, and eventually end up taking him prisoner. Then they cut off his limbs, one by one, and blind him, and use their demonic blood to torture him until he can finally take no more and expires.

And Thenvunin himself had once visited the story’s forums to express disappointment that this character wasn’t castrated, too. Considering everything he had done.

He feels faint, going white as a sheet while he stares in the mirror. So consumed with terror that he doesn’t even hear the door to the room opening.

“Brother?” an unfamiliar voice calls.

Thenvunin whips his head around, and freezes in place. A new kind of fear gripping him, as he looks at this unfamiliar person. Presumably a character in the story. For half a heartbeat, he’s almost afraid that it’s Uthvir, come to drag him off for torture and death. But then his mind catches up with him. No, this is… that wouldn’t be right. This place, based on the descriptions, must be Thenerassan’s chambers on Quiet Peak temple. The author of ‘Immortal Demon Way’ had only very loosely followed the structure of a ‘cultivation’ novel, taking grand liberties with the various stages and processes of most established works. The Peaks, as he recalled, were little more than supernatural stomping grounds; like elite clubs for people who had attained immortality through cultivating their internal energies, and becoming incredible fighters.

If he is at Quiet Peak, then he mustn’t be at a point in the story where this character has been ruined, yet. But that’s only one relief; he still finds himself looking at a concerned face he doesn’t recognize.

“...Yes?” he finally ventures.

The stranger comes into the room. He is a man. Handsome. Long dark hair, pretty brown eyes, middle-dark complexion. He could be any number of a dozen characters, really, but Thenvunin supposes he could narrow it down to the ones populating Quiet Peak. It was an early part of the story, so one he remembers fairly well.

Before he can latch onto a guess, though, the stranger pauses and gives him an assessing look.

“Are you feeling better?” he asks. “Your disciples said you collapsed out of nowhere on the practice fields. Compassion took a look at you but couldn’t see any problem, either with your health or internal mystic energies. She advised that we let you rest…”

“Ah,” Thenvunin says. “Um. Well. Yes, I… fainted.”

The stranger raises an eyebrow.

“You fainted? Have you been neglecting yourself in some way, brother?” he asks. He seems cordial enough, which further limits the possibilities for who he could be. Dark hair, brown eyes, friendly enough to check in on the unlikable Thenerassan’s health…

“...Venavismi?” he ventures.

The man blinks.

“Yes?” he asks.

Oh thank goodness.

“I. Um. I seem to be… not feeling well…” he says. It feels like an odd thing to say, since technically speaking, he doesn’t think he’s ever felt so well before in his life. He almost jumps out of his skin when he hears a soft ‘bing’ inside his head, though.

<Warning: Impending Out of Character Behaviour Alert. Current Participant has OOC Restriction Locks still in place. OOC Restriction Locks can be removed once Achievement: Character Development has been obtained.>

Thenvunin freezes in place again.

What?

What are OOC Restriction Locks?!

Meaning… if he behaves out of character, he’ll be penalized?

But Thenerassan is a monster! Thenvunin can’t act like that. It would be beyond the pale! And besides, how can he possibly change anything in this story if he has to act like an amoral reprobate the entire time? No, wait. There was more, wasn’t there?

What’s ‘Achievement: Character Development’?

What?! How am I supposed to do that, I’m nothing like that wretch!

Thenvunin is still in the process of thinking furiously in his mind when Venavismi seems to decide that he must be rattled. He’s accustomed enough to being handled by nurses that being steered back towards his bed barely registers in his mind, until he finds himself being settled onto the mattress again.

“...more rest, brother,” Venavismi is saying, genially. He seems to be about as nice as the impression his character gave off, in the story. Thenvunin always felt rather badly about his death. Which… he suddenly recalls, was Thenerassan’s fault. Retaliating in a fury after the accusations against him had landed, he had killed the first people who attempted to apprehend him, only for Uthvir to swoop in and put a stop to him. One of them had been Venavismi. Decapitated, as he recalls…

He feels an inexplicable rush of shame. Not that he’s responsible for Thenerassan’s actions, but, well…

“Thank you,” he says. “You are a very upright person, Venavismi, even if you can make terrible jokes sometimes.”

What? Just for saying ‘thank you’?!

<Character: Thenerassan would not thank Venavismi without ulterior motive. -5 Deduction. Character: Thenerassan would not compliment Venavismi without ulterior motive. -5 Deduction. Character: Thenerassan would also not display weakness in front of a potential rival. -5 Deduction. Deductions reduced by 50% due to mitigating factor: Plausible Disorientation.>

Internally, Thenvunin fumes. Plausible?! He is most certainly disoriented, of course he is!

But Venavismi does look very surprised.

“Um. Thank you, brother…?” he ventures. “I think I had better get another healer to attend to you. Do you remember hitting your head on anything when you collapsed?”

“Of course not, I don’t even remember collapsing!” Thenvunin snaps, flustered and unhappy with having lost points. Even though he doesn’t know what the points mean. He lets Venavismi bow his way out of the room, the atmosphere awkward and disconcerting, and then finally just drops his head into his hands.

What do all these points even mean, System?

…Yes. Yes, I would, if that will explain this whole confusing mess!

<Beginner’s Tips have been activated! Additional Mode: Character File Recognition has also been activated. New characters will now appear with their names provided by the system, in the event that Character: Thenerassan would be able to recognize them. For a cost of an additional 100 points, Easy Mode may be activated. Warning: current point levels insufficient to make payment. Regarding point system: actions furthering project goals generate points. Lock violations or insufficient story progress will incur penalties. Negative point status will result in Participant’s ejection from the project.>

Ejection from the project…?

In other words, then, if his points go into the negatives, he’ll be sent back home.

Where he’s… dead.

And what happens if I die during the course of this project? He wonders, thinking of the chilling prospect of Thenerassan’s canonical fate.

Death of the Participant will result in ejection from the project.

So… death, again.

Thenvunin lets out a shaky breath.

He would… yes, he would definitely rather avoid that, all things considered. But by the time a healer - whose name Thenerassan apparently would not have bothered to know - comes to his chambers, he doesn’t feel much closer to regaining his equilibrium.

Thenvunin takes an entire day to rest from his ‘mysterious illness’. In the evening, one of his disciples comes with something more substantial for him to eat. Desire, or ‘Squish’, as the narrative had nicknamed her. She is a pleasant girl, and a teenager, though how old she exactly is would depend on when he’s arrived on this scene. Assuming it’s prior to Uthvir’s descent into hell, she could be anywhere between fourteen and nineteen. Thenerassan - the original - had lusted after this girl, behaving inappropriately the entire time. Seeing the girl come into his rooms, Thenvunin is appalled twice-over by that particular story element. Here Thenerassan was supposed to be her mentor, but he had scarcely seemed to teach her anything except that authority figures weren’t to be trusted! And then she had joined Uthvir’s harem, all full of scandals and intrigue, and… admittedly, Thenvunin had rather lost track of her character after that.

He didn’t recall her has terribly complex. Mostly just sweet, and devoted, a simple ‘childhood friend’ style love-interest. Though he’s surprised when she comes in, and he notices that she lacks the typical ‘dainty’ appearance of such a girl. Instead she is heavy-set and… well, fat. With a round face and broad nose, and a tumble of curly dark hair. She is still quite beautiful, and obviously more than strong enough to handle the training at the peak, but Thenvunin doesn’t recall imagining her this way at all from her description.

Then again, Half-Demon Prince, the author, hadn’t been as typically prone to describing the female characters’ measurements and ‘charms’ as most writers in the genre. There had been a lot of fanart… perhaps the standard interpretation of this character was based more on a popular fanartist’s work, than on all the possibilities contained in her description?

But then, why should the ‘project’ choose an atypical interpretation, rather than the most common one?

He supposes that all has to do with how the system even works, and on that front, it has remained entirely silent.

“Teacher, will this meal do?” Squish asks him. Respectful, but a little distant.

It suddenly strikes Thenvunin - Squish was Uthvir’s only childhood friend. The protagonist. If he is to survive this ordeal, it seems absolutely paramount that Uthvir not want to kill him.

“This meal is fine,” he says, with a dismissive wave of his hand. He focuses intently on Squish’s face. “Tell me, how old are you this year?”

For a moment, he’s almost afraid that the system will tell him that was out-of-character. But it remains silent, and Squish’s expression turns somewhat reluctant.

“Sixteen,” she tells him.

Sixteen… which makes Uthvir fifteen. Three years. Thenvunin has three years to undo Uthvir’s hatred of him. But this also means that Uthvir has already spent two years around the Original Thenerassan. Being bullied, being starved, being beaten, being left out in the cold… Thenvunin pales at the thought of all the rampant child abuse. His only, minor consolation is that Thenerassan hadn’t liked to dirty his own hands. He had preferred to simply encourage the other disciples’ bullying, or to dole out punishments that simply resulted in Uthvir’s misfortune, by doing things like handing out complicated assignments too close to curfew. The other Thenerassan had been concerned with appearances, at least, and the reputation of his sect. It was probably the only reason why he hadn’t just immediately tossed his poor disciple off the mountain.

“My parents have said that they will outright refuse all petitions for my hand until I am twenty,” Squish says, jarring Thenvunin out of his thoughts.

He blinks at her.

“Sensible of them,” he replies.

Oh, for-!

He doesn’t bother to ask what that is about, realizing in a rush of nausea that this interaction must seem like he is digging into his student’s personal business to figure out if he can browbeat her family into handing her over to him. What a sick man the original truly was! He has to fight the urge to clarify things, knowing it will only cost him at the moment.

How many points do I have left? He wonders.

He isn’t entirely addressing the system, but it answers for him anyway.

Since he got here, he’s only managed to lose points…

Squish stares mildly back at him. He lets out a breath.

“Do you know where Disciple Uthvir is?” he asks, attempting to sound as neutral as possible. Neutral cannot really be out of character, right? If Thenerassan was always spitting furious every time he mentioned Uthvir’s name, surely the other mentors at the peak would have had to notice?

Thankfully, that assessment seems correct, as there is no warning or ‘ding’.

Squish’s expression turns wary.

“They’re still doing the tasks you assigned them this morning,” she replies. “They’ve been working as hard as they can.”

Thenvunin purses his lips. Scowling, but not at his student; he’s just trying to figure out how he can start to repair things, when one of the most concrete aspects of Thenerassan’s character was his ardent hatred of all things Uthvir.

“Send them here,” he decides.

<Warning->

How can it be OOC? This is entirely self-serving! He argues. If I don’t get on Uthvir’s good side, I’ll die horribly. If the original Thenerassan knew that, don’t you think he’d start being nicer, too?

Thenvunin swallows.

The food on the lovely tray in front of him makes him slightly nauseous. Squish looks suspicious, but after a moment, she can only nod obediently and leave to go get Uthvir. She looks as though she might say something to him, for a moment. But after a moment passes, she only shakes her head, and then leaves.

So now he needs to think of something that the original Thenerassan would do, that will put a stop to all these abuses - or at least, begin to - without losing him any further points. He has no idea how difficult it will be to regain points, since he hasn’t gained any so far. And that ‘Easy Mode’ that the system mentioned before seems like the sort of thing he might like to unlock, but he’s definitely not going to do so when it will bring his point total remotely close to 'zero'.

By the time Uthvir shows up, the food has gone cold, but Thenvunin thinks he might have happened on a solution. He has moved from his rest bed to his desk, unable to sit still. But he finds himself somewhat frozen again when he finally sees them.

Uthvir.

The terrible demonic tyrant who will eventually slaughter hundreds. Who will build a massive harem of beautiful lovers, all vying for their affections. The sharp, dangerous, deadly protagonist of ‘Immortal Demon Way’.

…But, they’re just a child.

Or a teenager, but Thenvunin’s a legal adult and feels very adult compared to the tiny figure who walks into his chambers. They’ve cut their hair, he notes. He forgets what age they did that at in the story, but thinking on it, it probably wasn’t long after they arrived on the peak. Their uniform is ill-fitting but clean, pulled from standard storage. They have large, red eyes, and soft features. Really, they look younger than fifteen.

But what catches most of his attention is the large blemish on the top of their cheek, and the ugly cut at the corner of their jaw.

Thenvunin stares at them while they shift in place. Waiting to see what kind of torment he has in store for them, no doubt.

I can’t do this. How can I be cruel to a child?

<Warning: Impending Out of Character Behaviour Alert.>

After a moment, Thenvunin clears his throat, and reminds himself of his plan. He makes certain his features retain a cold look, with great effort, as he reaches into a pocket of his robes, and retrieves a little jar of healing salve that the healer left with him. Uthvir’s wary expression does not abate as he tosses it to them; but with their reflexes, of course they catch it.

“It is disgraceful for one of my disciples to go around looking like that,” he declares, lifting his chin and pursing his lips to keep from saying anything else. Poor thing, poor thing, oh you poor little thing… “From now on, there will be no more transgressions to call my good character and teaching into question.”

Uthvir seems to pale at his assertions.

“Teacher,” they say, hurriedly. “Please don’t turn me out. I swear, I will not - I will not provoke them anymore. I know I have been slow at learning how not to, but I think I have made progress... I will redouble my efforts! Please, I have nowhere else to go...”

Thenvunin frowns at their fright, before realizing that Uthvir does not recognize what the healing salve is; they probably think he’s conjuring up an excuse to kick them out of the sect. But even Thenerassan couldn’t really do that - despite his best efforts, Uthvir’s acceptance onto the mountain was the doing of Mana’Din, the Peak Leader.

“Don’t be foolish,” he snaps, and they fall immediately silent. “Do you not even know what a healing salve looks like?”

The OOC Warning remains mercifully silent, but Thenvunin feels like he is dying on the inside.

Uthvir stares uncomprehendingly down at the little jar he gave them.

“This… is healing salve?”

They don’t even know what it looks like! I can smell it from here, but they’re clueless?! They’ve never seen it before?!

Come to that, Thenvunin hadn’t seen it before, either. But apparently he still has some sense memories from the Original… which would also explain why his coordination isn’t completely shot, even if he still feels like a ghost sitting in someone else’s body.

Uthvir doesn’t have the excuse of transporting themselves between worlds, though. They should know what a salve smells like even better than he does. Or they would, if Half-Demon Prince hadn’t given them such a reprehensibly deprived childhood. The realization makes his heart crack in half.

“I expect you to use it,” he says.

He braces himself…

At the ominous ‘ding’ in his mind he nearly dies inside; but to his surprise, the system’s tone isn’t its usual ‘points deducted’ one. It takes him a moment to really register what it’s saying.

<Congratulations! Points toward Achievement: Character Development earned, +10.>

...How many points do I need to get the achievement?

<Beginner’s Tip: Achievements are unlocked at 100 points gained, determined from the moment achievement challenge is set..>

That’s… that’s not so bad, actually. Thenvunin would almost feel good about it, if he hadn’t just been unreasonably cold and cruel to an injured teenager.

...He's going to have to do this at least ten more times. He takes it back, this is terrible.

But Uthvir looks uncomprehendingly at the salve for a moment longer. Before they seem to remember that they’re in the same room as their villainous instructor, and then quickly drop into a bow.

“Thank you, Teacher,” they say.

“Hmph,” Thenvunin replies. “You can go.”

Uthvir doesn’t waste any time in getting away, probably grateful to escape without having something unpleasant happen to them. Once they’re gone, Thenvunin drops back onto his bed, and puts his face into his hands. His shoulders shake, as tears begin to form in his eyes, and spill through the cracks of his fingers.

It’s just a story, he tells himself. Even if it’s different to experience it firsthand, all these people are just characters in a book. It’s not really real.

Is it?

Thenvunin manages to knock his point totals down to 65 before he finally begins to feel confident in manipulating the OOC Locks. Though he still hasn’t managed to earn any new points, he’s figured out some things about the system, and how they seem to be lost.

For one thing, witnesses are required. Thenvunin can do any number of out-of-character things in private, but the system will only notify him of a ‘ding’ if there’s someone present to see it. Which is a good thing, because Thenvunin finds himself breaking down in private quite a bit. The system will also generally warn him if there’s someone liable to witness his out-of-character moments - and whatever else might be said, he does appreciate that. Particularly when he’s been weeping in his rooms, and one of his disciples or another immortal from the peak is on their way to find him.

It’s not that he’s thoroughly miserable, though. It’s just a lot to take in.

Quiet Peak is a really beautiful place. Thenvunin doesn’t think he’s ever been anywhere so lovely before in his life. The peak is situated in a long chain of mystical mountains, and is one of several sacred peaks where spiritualists who have achieved immortality live and congregate. It’s a place replete with nature. Thenvunin’s home is one of several small buildings - almost a village unto itself - situated around a large main temple. It’s summer when he arrives, so the air is clear and warm, with the occasional cool breeze whirling its way around the mountain paths. Lots of small animals fill up the natural spaces of the area. Birds and rodents, foxes and stranger, more fantastical creatures from Half-Demon Prince’s imagination, like Phantom Lemurs and wolves made of branches and vines, held together by ambient nature energy.

To a normal person, some of the animals would probably be quite dangerous. But Thenvunin’s body, as he ascertains, is more than just fit and healthy. He seems to have all the supernatural powers of the immortals in the story. Along with a mystical sword that the original Thenerassed would have pulled from the peak, a blade that was manifested from his own innate energies.

Thenerassan - or rather, Half-Demon Prince - had called the blade ‘Swan’s Grace’. It’s one decision of the old Thenerassan’s that Thenvunin doesn’t mind. The name seems to suit the sword, which rests easily in his grasp, even though he’s never held a sword before in his life. It’s a beautiful thing. Pale and elegant, with a white handle, and a purple tassel tied with enchanted beads that help bolster spiritual energy.

It’s one thing for Thenvunin to know that his body seems to remember how to do some things, though, and another for him to really feel comfortable doing them. The more Thenvunin thinks about upcoming events, the more he finds himself sweating under his collar. There are battles to be fought. Actual battles. Situations where making even the tiniest slip-up could result in death. Thenvunin doesn’t think it’s enough to simply rely on his reflexes, reflexes can’t provide strategies or help him think his way through more complicated situations, or really decide how to apply the skills that he - apparently - now has.

So, when the Peak Leader, Mana’Din, comes to investigate his ‘recovery’ from his mysterious illness, Thenvunin doesn’t waste much time before requesting access to some of the secluded mountain caves that are used for those attempting higher levels of cultivation. Or attempting to regain spiritual equilibrium. He remembers the caves from the books; they were frequently mentioned, and Uthvir even retreated to them on occasion, when a difficult battle had depleted their strength.

Mana’Din is, like Squish, quite different from what Thenvunin had expected, but still well within the bounds of her character description. The Peak Leader is a petite woman, dark-skinned and placid in her countenance. She wears a white half-mask, and an elegant white robe, and regards Thenvunin with what seems to be genuine concern. Almost immediately, he likes her. Though sensing the amount of energy contained within her aura is somewhat disconcerting; Peak Leaders are very strong, of course. Mana’Din is no exception.

In the original story, she was yet another character who died at Uthvir’s hands. Though, more tragically than the original Thenerassan. Uthvir had challenged her for control of the peak. Mana’Din had fought gallantly, but in the end, after all that had led to that moment, the peak’s forces were so weakened that she was no match for a full-powered and determined Uthvir. She as one of the few female characters in the story who actually died, rather than simply falling into Uthvir’s harem after being defeated. Some readers had been quite unhappy about that.

As he invites her to take his morning tea with him, Thenvunin feels another pang of inexplicable guilt. The original Thenerassan’s machinations were a huge component to the weakening of the peak - and to Mana’Din’s inevitable downfall.

“Venavismi told me about your collapse. I came to check on you while you were still unconscious. Forgive me, I would have come to check as soon as you woke, but preparations in the valley took longer than expected.”

Preparations in the…?

Oh! Thenvunin’s pleased to realize that he actually knows what Mana’Din is referring to. The tournament, still scheduled a few years from now, will take place in the valley south of Quiet Peak. Because of the potential dangers of the event, the Peak Lords themselves oversee all the preparations, creating shields and checking the security, and making certain that all possible precautions can be taken. It’s a long endeavour, which is why tournaments are not held more frequently. As an expert in placing barriers, Mana’Din’s skills in particular would be required.

The thought of how badly the tournament still goes puts another twinge of guilt in Thenvunin. He has to bite his tongue to keep from mentioning that extra security will most definitely be needed.

“Are things going well?” he asks, instead.

Mana’Din waves dismissively.

“Of course,” she says. “I’m more concerned over you. I don’t know whether it’s good news or bad news that the healers seem baffled by what’s happened. Do you think it was some sort of attack?”

Thenvunin clears his throat, and shakes his head.

“It did not seem that way to me, though it was… disconcerting,” he replies. Lifting his tea cup, he takes a slow sip. The warm liquid helps to settle his nerves a little, as he prepares his rehearsed lines. “My concern is for the equilibrium of my internal energies. Healers may not notice everything on such a front. If my leader is willing, I would like to retreat to the Secluded Caves, to better attune myself to what may be going on within my body.”

He braces himself. But fortunately, Thenerassan had generally worn a mask of courtesy around his leader; there is no ‘ding’.

Mana’Din makes a contemplative sound, and then inclines her head.

“If you think that would help, then certainly,” she says. “I will gladly open the caves to you. But do you think there is a chance you could unbalance your energies? You should not be left to go alone, in that case.”

Mana’Din is blunt. Thenerassan would have taken offense at the implication that he could unbalance his own energies via meditation, but Thenvunin can only see genuine concern in her expression. Spiritual unbalancing is very dangerous. It can lead to explosive and self-destructive behaviour, as well as lashing out. Left unchecked, it can, as he recalls, cause madness, permanently damage an immortal’s abilities, or even lead to death. And while the original Thenerassan may have been an immortal of indeterminate age, who was very accustomed to cultivating his internal energies, Thenvunin himself is… not.

However, his inexperience could be glaringly obvious to any witnesses who see him try to practice. And if people start to become suspicious, then it could lead to his discovery as an intruder, and then the dreaded ‘project reset’.

Thenvunin’s not sure what the bigger risk is. He hesitates.

Mana’Din seems to read his silence as offense. She lifts a hand.

“Please don’t mistake my concern for doubt. This is a mysterious situation, so, taking some exceptional precautions may be wise,” she tells him. When Thenvunin hesitates again, she purses her lips, and taps the side of her teacup. “Perhaps a compromise? There are certain segments of the cave system that are more open than others. Many of Battle Peak’s disciples are currently using them in early preparation for the tournament. In the event of some calamity, being in that system would probably make it easier to find help, rather than simply using the more traditional caves allotted to our peak…”

The original Thenerassan would have found such a suggestion offensive, Thenvunin thinks again. But would he have protested to his leader? Complaining might seem uglier than just capitulating, or even taking advantage of the situation. Something niggles at the back of his memory. Something about Thenerassan and the caves and Battle Peak… but he doesn’t have a lot of time to dwell on it, as Mana’Din looks at him expectantly.

He puts on a tight smile.

“I suppose, under the circumstances, that would be reasonable,” he concedes.

Mana’Din relaxes a little, and offers him a more genuine smile in return.

“That’s a relief. I’ll worry a little less, now,” she approves. Nothing dings. Thenvunin lets out a silent breath, and sips more of his tea.

Really, Thenvunin can’t help but think. How did it escape your notice that the original Thenerassan wouldn’t have been worth worrying about to begin with?

He doesn’t ask that out loud, though, of course. Despite his repugnant nature, the original Thenerassan currently retains a spotless reputation, marred only by occasion rumours of his ‘harsh’ teaching methods. And that reputation is currently very useful to Thenvunin, who is not looking to ruin it by being an actual child-abusing monster. Even if the system is making that challenging for him.

Mana’Din tells him he can set out for the caves in a few days’ time, after she has established things with Battle Peak. That’s a good development, he thinks, but it still leaves the matter of Uthvir up in the air.

While Thenvunin has been doing what he can to try and mitigate the bullying going on, it’s an uphill battle with the OOC Locks tying his hands. The original Thenerassan had a lot of disciples, though, as Thenvunin recalls, most of them will die as cannon fodder during the tournament. The thought makes him sick to his stomach. Even if they’re mostly a gang of bullies, barring Squish and Uthvir, they’re still children. Well, teenagers. And they’re following the lead set for them by their teacher. Thenvunin is a bit lost at sea on what to do about it all. However, he knows for certain that if he leaves things just as they are, with the senior disciples in charge, it won’t go well for Uthvir.

The trouble is figuring out how he can mitigate that without breaking character.

He’s still turning the matter over in his thoughts later the same day, when he finally decides that, caves or no, he needs to get some practice in.

Despite his lingering troubles with adjusting to having a totally new body, the fact that he actually has energy and a shocking absence of pain keeps making him antsy. All the beautiful nature around him, the strength in his limbs, the air in his lungs, it makes him want to do things. His fingers itch to see what the sword at his belt can do. His heart speeds up at the thought of actually being a warrior, a guardian, someone who can fight and protect people and be gallant and strong. The giddiness he feels over it is even enough to push back his worries about dying, and he finds he doesn’t feel any guilt at all in basically stealing all of these things from the original Thenerassan.

With all that in mind, Thenvunin sets out before evening to find a more secluded spot on the mountain. He has to travel for a while to do it, heading down and into the woods, with Swan’s Grace on his person. The sword feels light, and he finds he often notices its absence more than its presence. He wears green robes that blend in with the pale leaves of the willowy trees that grown in the region, and passes over a woodland stream, before finally finding a good spot.

After triple-checking to make certain that he’s alone, Thenvunin draws his sword, and takes a deep breath.

He swings it.

It slices elegantly through the air.

Another swing. His body remembers motions that Thenvunin has never made before, and after a few more attempts, he finds himself falling into patterns that feel natural. Sword-fighting forms. He pays attention to the way his body moves, or tries to. But it’s exhilarating enough that he soon finds himself distracted by the sheer joy of it all. Swan’s Grace sings, metal through wind, and as his spirits rise Thenvunin finds flurries of air whip up around him. The original Thenerassan was strongly attuned to the wind element. It seems Thenvunin is, too, as the gusts of wind follow his movements, and make the fallen leaves around him dance.

He is so enraptured, he never even notices the tiny figure who stumbles upon him. Arms burdened with firewood, eyes wide as they see their teacher practicing his forms.

Uthvir freezes in place and stares dumbfounded for a moment.

They have seen Master Thenerassan demonstrate techniques before, of course, but such demonstrations have tended to be very simple and mechanical so far. Put your feet here, hold your practice sword like this, sit this way, don’t move like that, and so on and so forth. They have yet to actually see their instructor fight - and of course, they still haven’t. But as they watch, they feel a sudden insight as to what that might look like, and it seems somehow wholly unexpected.

If they ever had to guess, Uthvir would never suppose that Master Thenerassan’s techniques were so… so…

Lovely?

They feel almost like a voyeur, somehow. As if they have stumbled upon the man bathing rather than practicing. The most shocking thing is probably the look on his face, though. From their angle Uthvir can only see part of it, but it seems as if Master Thenerassan is smiling. Smiling as he dances with the wind and strikes out with his sword, moving through forms so complex that Uthvir can only even recognize half of them.

Something in their chest aches with longing.

They want to be that graceful, and powerful. They want to be a master who can rely on their own strength.

They watch, fascinated, until it starts to occur to them that if Master Thenerassan is out practicing in the wilderness by himself, he probably doesn’t want to be seen. Maybe there are some secret techniques that he’s doing? Uthvir’s fear of getting in trouble gradually starts to overcome their interest, and they pull back, retreating the same way they came by and being careful to walk in the footprints they already made, to avoid stepping on twigs or crunching leaves. Every once in a while they glance back, unable to help themselves until Thenerassan is finally out of sight. Then they resolutely keep going, as their heart hammers excitedly in their chest.

They feel as though they have just gotten away with some kind of mischief. Even though, taken at face value, they don’t even know what they mischief would qualify as.

Master Thenerassan could probably enlighten them if he actually caught them, though. And probably assign them even more chores as punishment. Sneering at them from behind his fan.

Although… he seems to be more patient with Uthvir than usual, these days. Maybe Uthvir is actually making fewer mistakes? They’ve found the thought very heartening, even if the other disciples still seem to hate them as much as ever. Except for Squish, of course. Master Thenerassan gave her a new training manual the other day, and she promised to let Uthvir look at it, too. They were going to go this evening, but then Elandaris cornered them and told them to go find firewood.

A lot of the older students shirk their chores onto Uthvir. At first, they’d hoped doing things would be a good way to make friends, but it seems they’re always doing them wrong. Uthvir’s not entirely clueless, although sometimes it feels as though they are. They like to think that it’s the amnesia at fault. The first thing they can recall in life is running, confused, out into the road in one of the southern cities, and nearly falling straight into Lady Mana’Din. They don’t even know how they came by their amnesia; they were first brought to Quiet Peak as a mystery to solve, rather than a disciple to train. The only belonging of any real value that they can claim is the necklace they were wearing at the time Lady Mana’Din found them.

Uthvir never takes it off. They’re deathly afraid of having it stolen. The simple leather cord it’s on is nothing special, but the amber-gold stone, rough and uncut, always feels a little warm against their skin. Lady Mana’Din thinks it might be a Spirit Shard. The only other person they’ve ever shown it to is Squish, and she likes it a lot, too. Uthvir knows she’d be thrilled if they gave it to her, but they can’t bring themselves to part with it. Even if they don’t know why, it’s… theirs.

As if drawn to the current of their thoughts, the necklace in question slides out from under their over-sized collar. Uthvir pauses, shifting the firewood in their arms so that they can reach up and tuck it away again.

“Hey!”

They look up, startled, at the sound of an unwelcome voice.

Elandaris!

Hastily, Uthvir finishes shoving their treasure away again, and takes a wary step backwards. They nearly lose their balance, burdened with the firewood in their arms. Elandaris seems to be alone; they don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

“I’ve nearly finished,” they say.

“Took you long enough,” Elandaris replies, marching determinedly towards them. He points at their chest. “What’s that?”

“What’s what?” Uthvir asks, playing dumb. “The branches…?”

Before they can react, Elandaris reaches out, whip-fast, and yanks the piece of cord around their neck. Uthvir fumbles and their treasure pops back out of their collar, as their heart speeds up.

Oh no!

The older boy’s expression twists in a mix of anger and triumph as he reaches for the spirit shard. Uthvir manages to whirl away in earnest then, though, dropping the firewood they’re carrying. To their horror, the branches and logs fall directly onto Elandaris’ feet.

A disciple of Elandaris’ level isn’t going to be as fragile as most mortals, so Elandaris is at little risk of having his foot bones broken. But that doesn’t mean it’s not still a painful thing to have an armload of wood dropped right onto his shoes.

“I’m sorry!” Uthvir immediately exclaims. Elandaris reels back, cursing, before his face twists in anger and he lashes out and punches Uthvir clean across the face.

The force behind the blow is more than enough to send them staggering.

“You clumsy oaf!” Elandaris exclaims. “How dare you! You could have injured my feet. That would set my training back. Are you trying to sabotage me?!”

“No!” Uthvir assures him, spreading out their hands. “No, of course not! I would never! It was an accident, you grabbed me and-”

“Clumsy piece of shit!” Elandaris accuses again. “Either you did that on purpose, or you are a waste of training! Come back here!”

Uthvir’s attempts to move further away are thwarted by Elandaris grabbing them. They try and counter his grip, but the older student is faster, and pulls at their treasure instead.

“And where did you get this?” he demands.

“It’s mine!” Uthvir insists, reflexively.

“Yours? Where would you get a spirit shard?” Elandaris demands. “Even a cheap-looking one like this should be beyond the means of a beggar’s child like you. And don’t tell me someone gave it to you! I know no one would. You have no coin and you have no friends, so the only answer is that you stole it.”

“I didn’t steal it!”

Elandaris hits them in punishment. Uthvir knows they shouldn’t argue, but this is their treasure. If Elandaris thinks they stole it then he’ll take it away.

“I didn’t steal it!” they insist, through the pain. “It’s always been mine, it was found with me, Lady Mana’Din knows!”

“Liar!” Elandaris accuses. He tugs at the cord, and Uthvir struggles back. A few well-placed kicks send them falling backwards, though. Despite their efforts to train their skills, the extra chores that are always being given to them take up most of the time they would spend practicing. They are behind; they know it. And they don’t have much recourse, though their heart lurches in pure alarm as they feel the ties on their leather cord finally give out.

Elandaris seizes their treasure.

Uthvir falls down, and trips over the dropped firewood.

“No!” they protest, scrambling to get back up. “It’s mine, it’s not-”

“Shut up, you little liar!” Elandaris snaps back, and lands a kick against their stomach. Uthvir grabs his leg, too desperate to back down. They scramble to try and reclaim their necklace. The defiance makes Elandaris even more furious, however, and after a moment they are both rolling through the undergrowth. Uthvir loses track of where their treasure even is, if it’s been dropped or if the older student still has it, as Elandaris gets them pinned and begins pummeling them.

“How dare you!” he snarls. “You sneaky little thief!”

Uthvir tries to cover their face, finally going purely on the defensive. They brace themselves for the beating.

But Elandaris only lands a few uncoordinated hits before he suddenly stops; crying out in pain.

Bewildered, Uthvir risk looking again.

Elandaris is holding his hands up. But there is a large, crimson gash on the back of one of his wrists.

“How did you do that?” he demands, shocked at the sight of his own blood. “Did you stab me?!”

Uthvir swiftly shakes their head.

“How could I?” they ask.

It must be the wrong thing to say, though, because Elandaris just looks angrier. Like he thinks they must be tricking him. Uthvir only feels confused as he lefts his fists again. They brace themselves, but this time they keep watching. So they see quite clearly as his hands come down, and…

A leaf.

A simple leaf, being carried on a swift wind, whips by and slashes Elandaris’ hands again, before he can bring them down to hit. He lets out another cry of pain, and finally scrabbles back off of Uthvir. Bleeding from both hands.

“What are you doing?!” he wails. “You’ve cut me! You wretch! How did you cut me?”

“It’s not me doing it,” Uthvir tries to explain, raising placating hands. “It’s…”

The leaves?

They glance down to the ground, and the two unbroken, perfectly-shaped, but blood-edged leaves lying not too far away. There are techniques that can make even flower petals as sharp as darts, especially in the hands of wind practitioners, Uthvir knows. They’ve read as much as they can, when they’re able to. But in that case…

There’s only one person who could do this sort of thing.

If Master Thenerassan wanted to stop Elandaris, though, he could simply come and tell him to stop?

This must be a lesson, then. Or a test. Uthvir curses their own stupidity, as they wonder what the correct response is. They never seem to know the right answer with these things. But if Master Thenerassan doesn’t want his presence to be known, then… it’s probably better not to tell Elandaris?

Maybe Elandaris is supposed to figure things out for himself? He is also a student, after all.

Uthvir remains silent, and the two of them fall into a wary stand-off. After a moment, they push themselves back to their feet.

“Give me back my treasure,” they demand, helpless to let the matter go.

Elandaris’ expression twists. He looks down, but then, to Uthvir’s growing dismay, seems to realize that he doesn’t still have it.

“I dropped it,” he tells them. Then he lifts his chin. “Which is just lucky for you, because if I hadn’t I’d be taking it to Master Thenerassan right now, and you’d be getting kicked off the mountain for thieving.”

Uthvir balls their fists, but doesn’t dare make a move. The corners of their eyes itch.

“I’m not a thief!”

For a moment, they think Elandaris is going to try and beat them some more. But there’s blood still pouring from his cuts, and the sight of it seems to make him hesitate instead. After a tense second, he turns on his heel.

“You just wait,” he says. “I’m telling Master Thenerassan all about this anyway, about how you tried to break my feet and bloodied my poor hands. And then that’ll finally be the end of you!”

On that note, Elandaris races off. Uthvir thinks they would be terrified of his claims, except…

Except, Master Thenerassan must alright know. Mustn’t he?

And he… he stopped Elandaris.

They just feel confused, as they pause and look around. No matter how they search, though, they can’t seem to see their teacher anywhere. They give up looking for him after a minute - if he doesn’t want to be found, they don’t suppose they stand much of a chance - and instead start searching for the necklace. Their ribs and stomach and face all hurt from Elandaris’ blows, but they can’t just leave it behind. They try and retrace things, but even though they search high and low, pulling aside plants and checking around stumps, and even looking in spots that seem unlikely places, they can’t find it before the sun begins to set.

Their treasure…

Uthvir is so disconsolate, they finally slump on the ground, and let a few tears escape.

“I lost it,” they whisper. “I’m so sorry…”

They aren’t even sure who they’re apologizing to. The words just seem to fly out on their own. They take a minute to cry, holding themselves upright on shaky limbs. Before they finally sigh, and resign themselves to the truth. They still have to bring the firewood back. And now that they’ve lost so much time, they’ll probably have to spend all of tomorrow making up the difference on their chores. The ones they can’t do in the dark, anyway. They sniffle, and brush off their cheeks. Trying to dry their eyes as they finally pick up the dropped firewood, and then stagger back towards the mountain path.

Into their pockets, they tuck a pair of blood-stained leaves.

Thenvunin feels like he must be the worst person in the world.

He had been surprised when his practice had been interrupted by voices. Raised in argument, by the sounds of it. For half a second he was irrationally afraid that he had been caught, and that something about his practice had been so inherently wrong that he was on the verge of being discovered. But then he’d realized the voices were further off than that. And then he’d recognized them, too.

Uthvir and… Elandaris.

Oh no.

As he hurried over, Thenvunin found himself recollecting the scene he was encountering. If it was the one he suspected, anyway. The one where Elandaris stole Uthvir’s precious necklace, the only remnant of their forgotten, tragic past. The one item that could still bring warmth to their cold heart, even when they were at the height of their dark ways.

In the original story, Uthvir had eventually regained the necklace when Elandaris died in the tournament.

Thenvunin watches as the two students struggle through the undergrowth, though, and sees the necklace in question stuck in the middle of a nearby fern. From his angle it’s quite clearly visible. The golden shard is a bright bit of light in the dark green foliage. Most of his attention is soon caught by the fight, however, and his first impulse merits several insistent warnings from the system.

Thenvunin’s fists clench and unclench. Thenerassan wouldn’t have stopped Uthvir’s mistreatment.

System, how many points will I lose for just marching out there and stopping it anyway?

What?! 40 points? He only has sixty-five as it is! That would… that would put him so close to complete failure…

His mouth goes dry. Is he really just going to stand here and watch this happen?

No. No, there has to be a way to interfere. Even if he can’t stop it directly, there must be something he can do. He thinks. There’s a technique, he remembers. It was one of the cooler things about the original Thenerassan, in with all his depravity and scumbag qualities. Precision was something he was actually good at. He could whip around tiny things with enough speed and subtlety to make even the most innocuous strips of paper or blades of grass into weapons.

Of course, the original had mostly used this to inflict secret torments on Uthvir. Thenvunin can only hope it will work in reverse, as he plucks a leaf from a nearby tree. Keeping out of sight, he lifts the leaf to mouth, and blows. The first attempt goes wide of the mark, though. Drawing in a determined breath, Thenvunin grabs another one, and tries again. As Elandaris raises his fists, Thenvunin focuses precisely on where he wants the wind to carry the leaf. He feels the energy in his body, and the energy in the world around himself. And just like that, it feels as if he is remembering how to do something, rather than learning it for the first time.

The leaf slashes Elandaris.

Thenvunin is a little shocked at how much blood it draws. His bullying disciple pales, shocked in turn at the sudden blow.

Even so, Thenvunin doesn’t hesitate to send the second leaf. Uthvir looks as though they’ve been through the wringer. Elandaris finally backs off at that, but Thenvunin frowns deeply at his tirade. Already wondering how to manage that upcoming situation. He thinks he can handle it, though, so long as he focuses on Elandaris’ own misconduct. After all, the original Thenerassan would have known that Uthvir had some possessions, and that accusing them of stealing such things wouldn’t hold any water. He probably just would have been annoyed that Elandaris was wasting his time with information that he couldn’t use.

But then he hears an ominous ding.

What?! But - but, how? It was only a couple of leaves! Neither Uthvir nor Elandaris could possibly know who sent them!

System, I object! There’s no way that should have counted towards a deduction!

But no one even knows it was me!

Thenvunin feels sick. 45. He’s down to 45 points now, and all he’s earned so far is 10. This is a nightmare! He keeps still, fretting over having less than half his starting points, as Uthvir begins to search around for their lost treasure. It takes him a few minutes to even register what they’re doing. And when he does, he feels another lurch in his gut.

There, he thinks at them. Keeping his hiding place, yet trying, at the same time, to mentally project some knowledge of the necklace’s location towards them. It’s right there! Look over there, Uthvir, come on, you can find it!

He could just pick it up and give it to them. But he absolutely can’t, he knows. The thought of losing any more points right now just makes him feel sick to his stomach. So instead he stays locked in place, while he watches Uthvir search and search, their bruises purpling from where Elandaris hit them. Do they still have healing salve left? He tries to think of ways he could get them more, at least, to keep from cracking and doing something impossibly foolish. But he feels as if he is on the verge of it anyway, when Uthvir drops to the ground and begins to cry.

Oh, no! Thenvunin thinks, swallowing hard as his own vision goes a little blurry. Oh, no, Uthvir, it’s alright, it will be alright…

He doesn’t know how he manages to withstand it, until Uthvir finally gathers up the firewood, and limps off alone.

It’s only when they’re gone that he moves himself. Walking quietly over to the fern, and plucking the spirit shard necklace up from where it had been dropped.

<Congratulations! A pivotal scene has been completed. Important Item: Uthvir’s Treasure has been obtained. +100 points awarded. Achievement: Character Development has been obtained! OOC Restriction Lock has been removed.>

Thenvunin is so struck by relief at the sudden, unexpected points gain, that he almost doesn’t notice the necklace vanishing from his hands. But an object just vanishing is actually strange enough that it almost immediately distracts him from the bizarre rush of success.

Wait, system! He protests. Where did it go?

He has to get that back to Uthvir, somehow!

<Beginner’s Tip: Important Items may be stored within the system until Participant decides to use them.>

Thenvunin blinks.

So… you have the necklace?

There’s no answer, but that seems to be the correct assumption.

System, could you please give it back?

He’s thinking he might just be able to sneak it back into Uthvir’s possession, somehow, before he gets a response.

What?! Thenvunin draws in a ragged breath, and then lets out it again. He lifts up a hand to rub at his face. What sort of system even is this? He only just earned those points! And without them he’ll be down to less than half again. And will it undo his achievement? He… he can’t…

He swallows.

…No, he finally answers the system. He can work this out. He’ll get Uthvir their treasure back, it’ll just… take a bit longer than expected. All he has to do is earn enough points to feel comfortable, and then he can spare the 100 points needed to return it. And in the meanwhile, he can focus on making things better for them, now that he can actually act with some freedom. He’ll make it up to them later, he vows.

…Somehow.

The situation still seems bittersweet somehow, as he finally dusts himself off, and makes his own way back.

It wouldn’t be inaccurate to say that the loss of their treasure leaves Uthvir disconsolate.

When they get back, they can’t even bring themselves to tell Squish. She just thinks Elandaris was picking on them again, and it takes a lot of effort for Uthvir to convince her not to go try and break his knees. But they’re already in enough trouble as it stands, and Elandaris has a lot more influence with Master Thenerassan than either Squish or Uthvir. Though…

In light of what happened with the leaves, Uthvir’s not sure what to make of the situation anymore.

Master Thenerassan doesn’t like them. They’ve known that since their first week of training, when he more or less told them so. Most of the disciples at the peak come from good families. Quiet Peak is very well-respected, and the potential to ascend to immortality and prominence is enough to catch a lot of people’s interest. Of course, not everyone has the aptitude or discipline for it. Even a prince wouldn’t be able to join the sect if he lacked the potential for training. But while Quiet Peak looks after its residents, serving the region also doesn’t exactly pay well. So all things considered, most of the applicants who get accepted come from families who have enough affluence to spare them, enough connections to actually get them there, and who also have the potential needed to be considered for training to begin with.

Sometimes, though, masters who are out on trips will cross paths with individuals who seem to have very noteworthy potential. These people can be of all sorts of backgrounds; what matters is just that they have the makings of a good disciple. According to the tenets of Quiet Peak’s sect, there shouldn’t be any discrimination of people based on where they came from originally. Once someone sets themselves to the path of ascension, then, one’s place along that path is more pivotal to rank and influence than their birthrights or privileges.

That’s not really how it works, though. Uthvir is one of only a few disciples with a poor background, and the only one serving Master Thenerassan. When Mana’Din had decided to offer them a place on the peak as a student, Master Thenerassan had warned Uthvir not to expect that the idealism of the tenets would shield them from reality - that someone like them, regardless of their spiritual potential, was a pity case. A servant more than a disciple, not somebody who could actually learn and achieve full mastery someday.

Uthvir wants to, though. Even if it’s unrealistic, even if it’s impossible, they want to be strong. They can’t help but think of what they saw in the trees, before they ran into Elandaris. Master Thenerassan, moving with the wind.

A knock on their door startles them out of their thoughts. Their arrival at the temple was unexpected, so, when they were first set up they were given an old wood shed for a room. Lady Mana’Din told them it was temporary, but they’ve been there ever since. Uthvir actually likes it, though. The thought of sleeping in the barracks, with the other disciples, makes them feel cold dread down their spine. Even if it was the same barracks as Squish, they’d probably never sleep soundly again.

When they call out to the knock, it’s Squish who opens the door. Uthvir relaxes a little, seeing their friend coming in with some clean bandages over one arm, and a lantern in one hand.

“It’s late,” they say.

Squish hangs the lantern up on the hook by the door, and shakes her head.

“I only brought a few things,” she says. “I won’t get in trouble, it’s Venavismi who’s on the evening watch tonight and he’s a soft touch.”

Uthvir swallows, but can’t really find the energy to argue. They cause a lot of trouble for Squish. She doesn’t say so, but the others have told them often enough. Even Master Thenerassan has said so.

“Here,” Squish says, handing them the bandages. “Do you still have that jar of salve?”

Uthvir reaches under their blanket, and grabs the little jar to confirm it.

Another strange thing, they think. Master Thenerassan is often scolding them for not meeting standards, but he doesn’t usually give them the means to do so, either. The salve is really good, too. Uthvir has to fight the temptation to use it all up, rationing themselves and making sure to cover up any injuries that would be visible, first. But it feels warm and smells spicy, and makes the aches fade away. Squish takes the jar from them, which has them frowning.

“Don’t use it all,” they warn.

“I’ll use just enough,” Squish assures them, and then sets about helping them tend their wounds.

It’s always been like this. When Uthvir first came to the peak, Squish looked at them like she’d seen a ghost. But then afterwards, she was always helping them. Even when other people were very clear that everything Uthvir did was wrong, Squish never turned away or stuck up her nose. They could only conclude that she was the kindest person in the world.

That made them think on the strangeness of Master Thenerassan’s behaviour again, though. So far as Uthvir could tell, no one had really changed their attitude towards them since they had arrived at the peak. Lady Mana’Din was kind, like Squish, but she also very busy. She said hello to Uthvir whenever she saw them - which wasn’t often. The other disciples were either indifferent to Uthvir, or else actively disliked them. Master Thenerassan despaired of them ever showing any talent, and was just waiting for them to make the final, crucial error that would finally let him get rid of them.

So why had he given them the salve? Maybe he really was just sick of looking at Uthvir’s bruises and thinking they were an embarrassment. What was going on with the leaves, though? And come to think of it… there have been other things, too. The past while he hasn’t given Uthvir any chores to do. The other disciples have, but not Master Thenerassan. He hasn’t snapped or snarled at them for a while, either, or boxed their ears for speaking out of turn.

It’s nothing really big - but it’s why Uthvir has been hopeful that they’ve been doing better.

So… have they?

Are things different because they’re finally getting some stuff right for a change?

The only trouble Uthvir can find with that thought, is that they don’t think they’ve been doing anything differently. It makes them anxious not to know what they might have done right, because if they can’t figure it out, then how can they keep doing it?

“Squish,” they ask, as she carefully applies a thin layer of salve to their bruised cheek. The tip of her tongue is pressing out, just a little bit, as she concentrates.

“Hmm?”

“Have you noticed anything… different, about Master Thenerassan lately?”

Squish pauses for a moment, frowning a little. She doesn’t like their chief instructor. Uthvir knows that, although she won’t tell them why. They’re almost expecting her to just tell them that she doesn’t want to talk about ‘that man’, like usual.

After a moment, though, her brow furrows a little bit.

“I have, actually. He seems less…” she trails off, and makes a face like she’s trying to think of a term suitable for a student referring to their teacher.

This is a frequent problem whenever Squish talks about Master Thenerassan.

“Shit?” Uthvir suggests.

Mostly to make her laugh. They’re just in the wood shed, after all.

And it works! Squish snorts, and grins a little. Then she seems to think about it, as she goes back to applying the salve, and shakes her head.

“Don’t say that where the others can hear. Disparaging our ‘illustrious’ teacher will just get us into trouble,” she warns.

“I know,” Uthvir says, quietly. “I was just joking. It’s a great honour to serve someone like Master Thenerassan.”

Squish snorts again.

“Don’t say that, either. It makes me want to point out all of his failings instead.” Switching to their other side, she starts rubbing some salve onto the bruises there. Uthvir holds still, and fights back a wince whenever her fingers brush over and especially sensitive spot.

“Lazy,” she mutters. “Insincere. Vain. He barely teaches, I don’t think he can take credit for the success of any of his students, even partially. He just treats us like servants, unless someone else is watching. I wish he’d fall off the peak so someone else would have to take us on instead.”

“Squish!” Uthvir protests. “That’s ungrateful!”

She gives them a flat look.

“I’m incredibly ungrateful for him,” she confirms. Uthvir wants to laugh, although they know they shouldn’t. It’s mostly her tone. Well, that, and the little voice inside their head that whispers that they’ve never liked Master Thenerassan very much either.

They used to. When they first arrived they thought he was magnificent. Regal and handsome, like a portrait of everything a master of Quiet Peak should be. That impression lasted for about five minutes.

Then he opened his mouth.

“But,” Squish says, tugging their shirt open to get at the bruises on their chest and stomach. Uthvir tries to stop her - they’ll waste salve - but she just bats their hands away and starts applying it anyhow. “You’re right. He does seem different, this past little while.”

Hmm.

So if Squish has noticed it, too, then maybe it’s not that Uthvir has actually gotten better at things?

“Do you think he had a revelation?” they wonder.

Their friend shrugs.

“I don’t know. I heard he fell down and hit his head. Maybe it’s a miraculous head bump situation, like in some stories? Something knocked a negative block out of his skull that’s gone unnoticed for decades, and now he’s finally able to channel ‘niceness’ again,” she jokes.

Uthvir gives that prospect some serious consideration, though. It might not be as silly as she’s making it sound. Oh, it wouldn’t be exactly that, obviously. But what studying Uthvir has done has taught them that spiritual energy can behave in really unpredictable ways. If it didn’t, then it would be a lot simpler for people to train and deliberately control it, cultivating it at a steady and consistent rate throughout all individuals. It would be like working with uniformly sized blocks, always knowing the measurements and therefore knowing how many you need in order to build what you want. But instead, it’s like growing a forest full of trees. You can know what kind of seeds you’re putting down, can try and get the trees to grow in certain ways, but in the end, no two forests will ever grow exactly the same.

And Uthvir has overheard a lot of stories, from everywhere around the peak, really. Things can get very quiet, so gossip is inevitable. One of the favourite topics of all the disciples tends to be stories about bizarre things that have happened to people during training, cultivation, meditation, or combat.

There are a lot of stories about people whose erratic behaviour, odd quirks, or particular training struggles turned out to be the cause of some kind of spiritual block that was literally ‘knocked loose’ by something hitting them, or by them falling over, or getting struck by accident. Probably the most popular story is the tale of one ancient master who fell down the temple stairs and nearly doubled his spiritual potency.

Uthvir thinks that one might be a dirty joke in disguise, though. There are a lot of references to ‘bouncing all the way day’ in a pointed fashion that tends to provoke giggles. They think it’s a pretty tame dirty joke, in that case - but that’s beside the point. Many of the stories sound like they’re supposed to be true, even if some of them are just rumours or have all the facts jumbled up.

“...Do you think that really could have happened, though?” they ask Squish.

She pauses. At first she looks like she’s going to just say ‘no, of course not’, and laugh. But then her face scrunches up, as the same thought process seems to occur to her.

“Stranger things have been known to occur,” she finally concludes.

The whole idea makes Uthvir feel strangely hopeful, and also a little bad. Has Master Thenerassan been having difficulties this whole time, then? And no one noticed? That’s sad. Now that Uthvir thinks about it, though, it doesn’t seem like very many people are close to Master Thenerassan.

Squish finishes up, and puts some bandages over the salve to keep it from wiping off while they sleep. Uthvir offers to walk her back to her barracks but she waves them off, and only takes the lantern with her as she finally has to go. Uthvir lets out a long breath, finally feeling the aches from their beating subside; but also keenly feeling the absence of their treasure, and its usual, subtle warmth.

Their blanket feels cold as they settle down. They stare at the moonlight through the cracks in the wood shed door, and think it might just be easier to puzzle over the ineffable ways of their teacher, rather than dwelling on the bitter sense of loss.

The next day proves to be a very strange one for Uthvir.

They wake up late. Which alarms them; they must have overslept, and they have so many chores still to do, they’re bewildered and at a loss that no one kicked open their door and dragged them out to get them. The possible reasons for why that might not have happened aren’t heartening; is Master Thenerassan going to declare that they’ve been neglecting their duties, and finally kick them out?

Is that why no one woke them? Because there’d be no point?

Or are they going to get punished for being lazy and sleeping half the day away?

They hurry out, hastily securing their outer tunic, before they make themselves stop and tie their belt correctly. They can’t afford any more mistakes today! They think quickly, checking the time to find that it’s past noon, and then pelt towards the kitchens. Calling apologies, only to find themselves turned hastily away from their usual scrubbing jobs - jobs they’d neglected yesterday, in all the chaos and confusion.

“It’s alright, Uthvir,” one of the older disciples tell them. Not one of their fellows. Uthvir comes up short, full of dread rather than reassurance, even as she pats their shoulder. “We’ve got it under control. Master Thenerassan sent word not to expect you today.”

Uthvir’s heart sinks into their stomach.

Oh no.

What if yesterday was a test? And they failed?

In a flurry of anxieties, they head for the stables next. But again they find themselves turned away; cordially informed not to worry, that they aren’t expected. They think they even see Elandaris inside, mucking things out with a black expression on his face. Only for a moment. Then they’re shoo’d away. As they head for the temple steps instead, they’re getting ready to plead for their life - or, well, their life at the peak at least - when someone calls out to them.

Uthvir stops, and then drops into a polite-but-rigid bow as they see Young Master Venavismi jogging towards them.

Venavismi is the youngest of the currently ascended masters at the peak. His duties include guarding the grounds, and…

…And escorting unwelcome persons out of the temple.

Uthvir feels like their doom is cheerfully jogging towards them. Some part of them just wants to run, thinking that this must be it. They’re getting kicked out. They don’t even know where they’ll go, or what they’ll do. They’ll end up on the streets, and the other disciples have been very fond of telling them exactly what sorts of things that would entail. They’re as stiff as a statue by the time Venavismi catches up with them.

“Hey, Uthvir!” he says, jovially. “Your master wants to see you. He’s at his studies, but he asked me to keep an eye out for when you got up.”

Uthvir swallows, and takes a minute to register what’s actually being said. In specific, they have to blink, and realize that Venavismi isn’t talking about escorting them off the mountain.

“What?” the ask. They’d been so convinced that disaster was on the way, now that it hasn’t come, they aren’t sure how to respond.

“Master Thenerassan wants to see you,” the older disciple repeats. His expression turns towards worry. “Are you alright, little sibling?”

“Of course,” they say, and manage another hasty bow. They’re still probably in trouble, but maybe… maybe if they’re being talked to, first, then there’s still a chance to salvage things. “Of course, I’ll go straight away. Thank you, Elder Brother.”

“No problem,” Venavismi assures them. He still looks concerned. “Here, let me walk you. I’m heading that way anyhow.”

Uthvir can’t exactly dissuade him without being rude. They go with him towards Master Thenerassan’s home. At a few points they pass some of Uthvir’s fellow disciples - the dark looks they’re giving Uthvir seem amplified, and it actually makes them grateful that the guardian is with them. Even if Venavismi likes to make a lot of inane small-talk.

“So how are your studies going?” he asks.

“I am progressing slowly,” Uthvir admits.

“Oh. Well, everyone usually has to go at their own pace. When I was your age, Lady Mana’Din told me that it was better to measure one’s spiritual progress against their past self, rather than their peers. Look to where you have come from where you started, rather than concerning yourself with how you stack up to the other students.”

“That sounds very wise, thank you for the advice,” Uthvir recites politely. Their thoughts are flying all over the place, though, and in truth, they barely hear most of what Venavismi says as he chats at them. All the way past the mountain garden and over the little bridge to the familiar grounds of Master Thenerassan’s home, and then even inside, as Venavismi is the one who knocks and loudly calls out.

“Brother! I brought your little student!” he says. “Are you still reading?”

There’s a rustling sound from the study.

“Yes, I’m in here. Send them in, please. Thank you,” Master Thenerassan calls back.

Venavismi gives Uthvir a pat on the shoulder.

“There. Go on,” he encourages.

They steel themselves, already rehearsing apologies as they make their way into the office.

The windows are open, Uthvir notes. And the desk has been moved. They can hear some pleasant birdsong, although everything sounds rather ominous to them under the circumstances. Swan’s Grace, Master Thenerassan’s sacred sword, is in its wall stand. Their teacher himself is sitting so that he can face the window; closing some manuals that Uthvir doesn’t recognize. A small tray of snacks is resting on the desk. Though most immortals of Master Thenerassan’s calibre don’t require food for sustenance anymore, many still eat for the pleasure of it.

Uthvir’s empty stomach rumbles a little, and they nearly recoil from themselves in horror.

“Sorry!” they blurt.

Master Thenerassan raises an eyebrow.

However, to their shock and confusion, he then slides the plate of snacks towards them. Until it’s at the edge of the desk nearest to them.

“Have you not eaten yet, Uthvir? I didn’t think Venavismi would bring you in such a rush. Have some of this, and take a seat,” he instructs.

Uthvir hesitates.

Not to be disobedient, but only because they feel like this must be some kind of trap or trick. They wait too long, and they see Master Thenerassan’s smooth expression shift towards something like irritation. Or what they think must be irritation, anyway. Hastily, they do as told, before they can get scolded. They fold themselves down across from his desk, and scoop up one of the sweet powdered rolls from the plate. In such a hurry to obey that they bite into it before they think about manners, and send a scattering of crumbs down their front.

“Sorry,” they say again, through a mouthful.

Their cheeks burn as they realize their second slip-up.

But Master Thenerassan just leans forward, and pointedly sets the plate of snacks directly into Uthvir’s lap.

“There,” he says. “No need to get crumbs anywhere, I had my fill of those anyway.”

Uthvir swallows. Their mouth feels dry with terror and confusion, but asking for a glass of water at this point would be beyond idiocy. They feel like they should refuse the offer, to be obligingly polite and deferential, but Master Thenerassan hasn’t really give them room to. He regards them strangely for a moment. Unsure of how to react, they take a more careful bite of the powdered roll, with care to make sure all the crumbs on their shirt land on the plate.

Master Thenerassan pulls a fan from his sleeve, and opens it. He lets out a long breath, and leans back. It looks as if he might be deciding something. Uthvir can’t escape the thought that he is, in fact, deciding their future.

Their fate.

“Uthvir,” he finally says, after what seems like a small eternity. The sweet roll tastes like ash in their mouth. “I owe you an apology. I have been a negligent instructor.”

To Uthvir, Thenerassan’s words sound incredibly ominous. Like the beginning of a speech that starts with ‘I have failed you as a teacher’ and ends with ‘you are no longer going to be my student’. They swallow, and fight back a cough, and put aside the plate in their lap to drop into the lowest bow they can manage.

“Master Thenerassan, please, you are the greatest instructor I could ever ask for!” they say. “I’m sorry I slept in. I didn’t mean to. I won’t make excuses, but I would never let it happen again, it wasn’t my intention-”

“Uthvir, stop, stop,” Master Thenerassan gently interrupts. They look up to find him motioning at them.

Warily, Uthvir straightens back up again.

The smile he gives them makes them feel even more lost at sea.

“I am not angry with you, Uthvir,” he says, firmly. “You are not in any trouble. On the contrary, if anyone should be punished, it should be the Master Thenerassan who has taught you these past few years. He has done disgracefully. And so, some things around here are now going to change.”

Uthvir blinks.

They are utterly lost. What is going on? What is this leading to? Is it a test? A trap?

Master Thenerassan looks at them strangely again. Then he sighs, and puts his fan up to hide some of his expression once more.

“The other students have been mistreating you,” their teacher asserts.

Uthvir automatically shakes their head in denial.

“Yes, they have been,” Master Thenerassan says, firmly. Angrily, they think. They swallow and duck their head. What’s going on? What are the right answers? For the past few years they haven’t ever been a favoured pupil, but they thought that they had at least figured out how to manage certain interactions. There were patterns that they could predict; that made it easier, even if it always seemed to end in something unpleasant for them anyway.

But now all those patterns are gone.

“I will not permit it to continue,” Master Thenerassan says.

Uthvir bites the inside of their cheek, and keep their gaze averted. So are they being sent away, then? To stop it from continuing?

Another long sigh reaches them.

“...In a few days, Uthvir, I will be making a personal journey to attend to my health. While I am away, I do not think it would be very wise to leave you disciples under Elandaris’ charge. I know he is the senior among you, and that is ordinarily what I would do, but… I, ah. Have been burdening him with too much responsibility.”

Uthvir blinks. The memory of blood-stained leaves beats through the panic in their mind.

Tentatively, they look up at their teacher. But Master Thenerassan is holding his fan, still.

Health? They wonder. Immortals don’t really get sick, but there are things that can injure, poison, or otherwise impeded them in ways similar to illnesses. And spiritual ailments can happen too, of course.

Does this have something to do with his odd behaviour? And his fall? Is… were they and Squish actually right?

But then, Uthvir thinks, maybe he’s going to reverse the process? Maybe he didn’t accidentally remove a block. Maybe he just addled his skull a little. They feel guilty for thinking that sort of thing could make an improvement on the man.

Although… maybe Elandaris just did something to make him really angry? Maybe this isn’t about Uthvir doing better, but Elandaris doing worse?

Master Thenerassan carries on, heedless of their thoughts and speculation.

“Obviously, I cannot simply leave the training of my disciples to the wolves for several weeks. But it would be too much to burden any one Sibling of the peak with handling all of you. So I have made arrangements for you all to attend different teachers, while I am gone. They have generously loaned some of their time for this cause. I will tell everyone, of course, but for now you can know that you and Desire will be answering to Master Venavismi while I’m away.”

Uthvir blinks.

Venavismi?

That’s… not bad? And they’re serving with Squish? Master Thenerassan put them together on purpose?

“Oh,” is all they can manage at first, in their surprise. Then they remember their manners, and duck their head. “Thank you very much, Teacher.”

“Hm. You should thank Master Venavismi for his time, but don’t worry about thanking me,” Master Thenerassan says. “All you need to do is make sure you go to him and tell him if anyone is bothering you. It is not good for the other disciples to shirk their duties onto you. Chores are distributed throughout the peak as part of training. Every disciple must learn how to balance the necessities of daily life with the pursuit of loftier goals. But right now, things are unbalanced. Uthvir does all of the chores, and barely has time to focus on their spiritual cultivation and practice. The others do none of the chores, and do not build up their characters. So don’t think you’re doing them any favours by keeping quiet about their mistreatment towards you.”

Uthvir’s eyes are wide.

Again, they flounder. Not knowing what to say. But the habit of thinking that if there’s a problem, then they must be to blame for it, is an old standby. They immediately start offering apologies again; and rendered uncertain, again, when Master Thenerassan makes them stop that.

“You are not in trouble,” their teacher reiterates.

“But I… hurt their training?” they venture. Isn’t that what they’re getting at?

Master Thenerassan looks vexed.

“No, Uthvir. I am saying that they have hurt your training, as well as their own. And that I have failed you by letting this go on so long,” he declares.

Uthvir feels like someone just opened up the floor underneath them. They stare blankly ahead, and then blink a few times.

They… he… what?

“...Really?” they venture at last.

Master Thenerassan’s expression vanishes behind a wave of his fan again.

“Really,” he says, in a tone that brooks no argument. “But it falls to me, now, to try and fix this. That will take us some time, I fear. And some things cannot be endured; you can no longer sleep in that filthy wood shed, for starters.”

“I don’t mind it!” Uthvir insists, hastily. Please, no, not the barracks…

“The barracks are also unacceptable, in your case,” Master Thenerassan tells them. As if he could read their mind. They wobble in place a little, still missing the floor. Except, bit by bit, they’re starting to wonder if they’re floating rather than sinking. If this is a good feeling, rather than a bad one.

“Fortunately, there is a room by my garden that I do not use,” their teacher continues. “It has its own door to the outside, so there is no need for us to disturb one another. I’ll expect you to have your things moved over there by the end of today. Otherwise, you should focus on your studies until I leave. There will be no more chores until Master Venavismi assigns you some, after I have gone, to try and make up for some of the imbalanced time.”

Uthvir stares.

…What?

As Master Thenerassan looks back at them expectantly, they remember themselves yet again. Dropping into another hasty bow.

“That is too kind!” they insist.

“I think I have explained why it is not,” Master Thenerassan retorts, quietly. Almost more to himself than to him, they think. Before they can think of how to respond, he motions at them to sit up again, using his fan to gesture. “Stop bowing. And finish that plate of food, you are much too malnourished. I have some training manuals for you and Desire, I expect you to give hers to her before I go. Master Venavismi will give you guidance if you need it, but I should still point you in the right direction, so I expect you both to read these manuals while I am gone…”

Uthvir listens. They really do, even though it also still feels like they’re floating away in shock and confusion. They sit in Master Thenerassan’s office, and eat sweets, and listen to birds, and are given two crisp new manuals to tuck under their arm, and a key to a room that leads onto Master Thenerassan’s own garden. They try the shed, first, thinking that makes more sense, but no. The key doesn’t fit there. Instead it opens a door to a quiet little space that looks like it was originally meant to be a meditation room. Uthvir doesn’t know why Master Thenerassan would dislike it enough to not use it; there is a lot of pleasant light and fresh scents from the garden. But someone has put a new bedroll into the corner, along with a chest for keeping clothes in.

Uthvir leaves in a daze to go and get their things. It doesn’t take long, they don’t have very much. The little room still seems sparse and empty as they set down their blanket and put away their spare uniform, and use the extra drawers to hold all their training material and their little tin of healing salve.

Moving their belongings reminds them of what’s missing from the count of items.

It’s a sad thing in with several confusing-but-ostensibly-good things. So Uthvir’s not sure how it works out that they end up sitting on their blanket in a corner of the strange room, with their knees up their chest, crying as quietly as they can.

And when they’ve finished, they feel tired all over again. Even though they overslept already. Their bones feel hollowed out, and the lack of comforting weight at their neck still seems wrong, but… but, as they settle their damp cheeks against their knees, a wave of relief washes over them. It feels the same way that the air does after a storm has broken. And so, with instinctive desire, and a strange sense of balance, they fold themselves into a meditative pose and settle more deliberately into their corner. Closing their eyes as they focus on their breathing, and then on the flow of their spiritual energy.

Their teacher instructed them to practice.

Even if nothing else makes sense, Uthvir supposes that this, at least, probably should.

Thenvunin can’t help but fretting, when the day actually arrives for him to leave and head for the caves.

It still seems like a good plan. Or maybe just the best he can come up with. But there seem to be endless complications to everything. He had assumed things would get simpler once he wasn’t getting ‘dinged’ by the OOC Lock anymore - and in a sense, that really is a benefit. What he’d failed to consider, though, was that there might still be consequences for acting ‘strangely’.

Case in point - the first morning after the lock had worn off, no less than three of the original Thenerassan’s colleagues had asked if he was ‘feeling alright’. Master Tasallir had looked at him as if he might be having some kind of manic episode, one of the peak’s healers had just ‘swung by’ to check on the currents of his spiritual energy, and then Uthvir had seemed positively terrified during a simple interview where all he tried to do was fix their bullying issue and move them to a better place to sleep at night.

He had scared them witless and he didn’t even know how.

They still seem uncertain around him. Thenvunin has been giving them space - and that hasn’t been hard, at the end of the day. He has plenty to deal with in trying to wrangle the other disciples at the moment, who are even more confused that their ‘teacher’ has started behaving differently. At least that makes some sense, though, because Thenvunin isn’t particularly trying to be nice to them.

Oh, he’s not being cruel. But being ‘too nice’ to Squish reads in a way that makes his skin crawl, considering the Original Thenerassan’s ‘niceness’ towards her. And as for his bully students, well, obviously there’s a need to backtrack on some of the damage that’s been done to their values and discipline. Which means actually punishing them for being vicious little beasts.

Thenvunin’s never been a teacher. He went to school, once, for about four years when his health was good. Otherwise it was all homeschooling. So he even finds himself pouring through the Original Thenerassan’s notes, not because he thinks it would be a good thing to emulate the man on a lot of things, but because it… at least gives him an idea of what he’s working with? And what the general structure of things should maybe look like. Unfortunately, most of the Original’s notes just read like the diary entries of some kind of madcap social climber. Who has good connections, who has money, who has relatives who’ve ascended, and things like that.

Otherwise, he didn’t seem to bother with a lot of necessary work.

Thenvunin ends up going to Master Tasallir, who is an ascended scribe and the person in charge of the peak’s records and archives, and mustering up an excuse of losing some of his teaching materials in order to access back-up records in the archives. Tasallir still seems to think he might be deranged, but less than he had before, when Thenvunin had attempted to offer him an actual friendly greeting.

The man does make him nervous, though. He can’t even remember reading about him from the original book, and yet for some reason he is… unreasonably good-looking? Like someone cast him out of precious metals and ivory and then brought him to life via wishes. He is quite possibly the most meticulously groomed person Thenvunin has seen on the entire peak, which is saying something, and every time her speaks to Thenvunin he looks like someone has jammed half a lemon in his mouth.

Thenvunin cannot take it personally. He thinks he would look the same way at the Original Thenerassan, and has no idea what sorts of transgressions his alter-ego might have committed before Thenvunin pulled a body snatch on him.

But the long and short of it is that he spends several days running around in a mad panic, earning no points and feeling as if he is somehow just making everything worse, as he tries to actually teach his students and beseeches the other mentors at the peak for assistance and is perpetually asked if his ‘spiritual equilibrium’ is alright.

So on balance, despite his nervousness over leaving - and what could go wrong in his absence, if that little villain Elandaris gets his hands on Uthvir again - he thinks the trip will be good.

He can study, He can practice his abilities. He can make plans. He can come back, and hope that any major shifts in his ‘general temperament’ might be attributed to a successful trip; like the way some people seem to come back from vacations with entirely new outlooks on life. Or maybe, if he gives them a few days, people will start to forget what the Original was really like. Even just a little bit.

…That’s a long shot, but he can hope.

One silver lining to the whole scenario that he hadn’t even anticipated is that, since he is going to a section of the sacred caves that is not typically used by Quiet Peak, Lady Mana’Din gives him a map of the cave system with his path outlined for him. She also gives him a special pass key, which is little more than a strip of paper with a password written on it. But when Thenvunin presents it to the waterfall opening of the cave system, the water parts, and the entrance is revealed to him; and every other path along the way is also opened by his innocuous-seeming strip of paper.

Thenvunin begins to feel some unease about the situation as he makes his way to the cavern system of Battle Peak.

He’s never been in a cave before. Only really seen them on television and in movies, which doesn’t really do the darkness of them justice. Not that there’s no light; openings up towards the surface let in bright shafts of daylight, but any time a cloud rolls past them, they darken. And there are some lanterns, but still, they don’t illuminate everything. Many passageways seem shrouded in a deep darkness, and the darkness feels strange to him.

Old, somehow.

It reminds him of the practice that some peaks have of binding cursed spirits and demons beneath mountains. Like the dungeons below a castle. Thenvunin does not see anything, or hear anything, or even feel anything more than the odd sense of the ‘energy’ in the place. There are pools of calm, and waterfalls of light, and there are small bodies of still water - clear, somehow - and there is darkness.

Only the darkness bothers him, until he thinks about how much time he is going to be spending here.

Then he is very glad that he brought along so many books.

Every so often he passes a cave that he suspects is occupied, but he doesn’t see any occupants until he gets to the segment of the map that marks the Battle Peak system. He doesn’t get lost or turned around too many times, thankfully. The caves are supposed to be a ‘natural’ place, but they do still have markers for the pilgrims that come.

When Thenvunin is the Battle Peak system, he passes by a small chamber. Filled, unexpectedly, with daylight. An unfamiliar figure mediates in the middle of the room. They do not seem to take note of Thenvunin’s passage, and after a while, he decides it would be best just to leave them to their self-reflection.

Other than that, he doesn’t see anyone until he’s actually made it to the cavern allotted to him.

The space is something of a relief. Though it’s still obviously a cave, it has light. Not as much as the one he saw the meditating disciple in, but enough to give him a glimpse of the sky through the high opening. Water trickles down one side of the cavern wall, and some moss is growing around the opening. Thenvunin can feel the air move a little.

It startles him, how much of a relief that is. Like a friendly touch that he had missed without knowing, ever since he came inside the caves. He moves to the middle of the chamber, and takes a deep breath. Spreading his arms out and feeling the air across his face.

I can do this.

Though after a moment, it occurs to him that he isn’t entirely sure how to start.

The meditation he witnessed earlier rises in his memory, and after a moment, he supposes that’s as good a place to begin as any. He sets the bag he brought into a corner of the cave - Master Venavismi had blinked at the sight of it before he left, asking if it wasn’t traditional to take nothing at all; but Thenvunin managed to say it was only for the trip - and then he settles in a good spot to feel the breeze, and begins.

Once he starts in on things, he finds that, like with the leaves he had thrown at Elandaris, many things are more like waking up a memory than trying to attempt something new. Even though Thenvunin is sure he’s never done any of them before. He manages to pass several hours without feeling like he’s been in a hard stone cave for that long; not noticing the memory of hunger, or feeling pain from the cold stone floor. He alternates between mediation and cultivation, practice and pondering. He takes breaks to read some of the manuals he brought and makes notes, and notices the light changing from day to night, before the habit of sleeping catches up with him.

But that just leaves him feeling antsy and uncertain. And in too much darkness to read anymore.

Sounds from one of the other chambers draws his attention. Thenvunin considers that it might be wise to watch some of the other disciples here, to see what they’re doing. To figure out what he should be doing. He gets up, and dusts himself off, and heads back out of the chamber. A little wandering leads him to a side passage, that descends right down next to the cavern he was in. That’s where the sounds seem to be coming from, along with the steady trickle of running water. He makes his way down, hesitating when the distant lantern light fades, and he has to proceed in darkness. But it only lasts for a short while, before he sees a light at the end of the passage.

The sounds become clearer. It sounds like someone… groaning? Sparring, perhaps? Thenvunin almost thinks for half a second that he’s about to walk in on something inappropriate instead, with the heavy nature of the panting that he hears, but… serious disciples of Battle Peak wouldn’t use the sacred caves for trysts, would they?

That would be too scandalous!

Thenvunin’s face feels hot at the thought, and he’s definitely hoping he doesn’t see anything untoward at all as he reaches the bottom, and takes a look around.

The first thing he notes is that there is only one person in the chamber. It’s a wide space, bigger than the one he had been in, but with more dark patches. A lone disciple is standing just off to one side, with his back towards the passage. His shoulders are hunched; and he is the source of the heavy breaths.

Thenvunin hesitates. Something niggles at the back of his mind, a sense of something he should know, but also a rush of reflexive worry. Thoughts of being in hospitals, of seeing other sick and injured and struggling people.

This man is unwell?

And then the system provides him with a name, hovering in text just below the stranger’s shoulder. Like a caption in a film.

Thenvunin freezes.

All the colour drains out of his face as sudden recognition dawns.

Oh no. Oh no. No, he remembers this now! From when the original Thenerassan was discredited in the story! Battle Peak’s champion was Thenerassan’s rival while they were students, serving under the same teacher. They had bitterly despised one another, and Thenerassan had nursed a grudge ever since the fallout of their constant fighting had seen their teacher hand his tutelage over to Mana’Din at Quiet Peak, in order to separate them. Bitterness at being the one chosen to leave rather than stay, Thenvunin had assumed.

A spark of hatred that had bloomed into an opportunistic murder, when Thenerassan had gone to the sacred caves for self-reflection, and found Calain lost to the haze of spiritual imbalance. A training method gone badly awry. At the time, the murder was considered self-defense; Calain had lashed out and in defending himself, Thenerassan had killed him by mistake. But as the black marks on his reputation grew, it became clear that the murder was deliberate. Calain’s state only provided a plausible excuse.

And Master Calain’s sister was a member of Uthvir’s harem. One of their favourite wives, even. So of course, Uthvir had taken great care to avenge the death of her brother, along with every other payment they drew from Thenerassan’s blood.

I can’t be here, Thenvunin thinks, all at once. He turns to leave but in his hurry, and the dark, a loose pebble flies away from his shoe.

Calain turns. Ragged and wild, like an animal. Thenvunin feels a rush of shock as he sees his skin mottled with darkness, as if covered in dozens of bruises. He can scarcely take in anything else about the man, as fear overwhelms him, and he moves to keep running.

Calain makes a sharp motion. There’s a flash of warning. Reflexes alone save Thenvunin as he leaps back, and barely avoids the sword that cuts across his path.

<Dawn’s Radiance>, the system helpfully tags it.

I don’t care about the names of swords right now! What am I supposed to do?! Thenvunin wonders back. He doesn’t get an answer, isn’t even really expecting anything that helpful, before Calain roars at him and charges. His sword whipping through the air and flying to his hand, as his eyes gleam with wild, erratic energy.

Thenvunin flees in the opposite direction.

“Calain!” he tries, as the two of them begin to race in circles around the chamber. “Calain, it’s me, Thenvunin!”

“I’LL KILL YOU!” Calain roars.

Right, yes, no, the Original Thenerassan may have known him but they weren’t on good terms. Familiarity isn’t going to help. Thenvunin keeps running, and dodging the occasional onslaughts of Calain’s sword, as he tries desperately to think. I need to get help!

He attempts to turn back up the passageway, but the sword blocks his path. And then it cuts towards him, and in a sudden, vivid moment of clarity, Thenvunin knows that if he doesn’t do exactly the right thing right this second, he is going to be speared on that blade.

Before he can really think about it, about what he knows or what he can or can’t do, he turns, and in a smooth motion, draws Swan’s Grace.

The blocking move comes effortlessly. Calain’s sword strikes against his own with enough force to push him backwards, but even though there’s a ton of energy behind it, it’s erratic and unfocused. Thenvunin narrows his eyes, and in a sharp, deliberate gesture, knocks the weapon out of the grasp of Calain’s distorted spiritual energy, and sends it clattering across the chamber.

Right in time for the weapon’s owner to charge him like a zombie from a horror film.

Thenvunin’s ready, though. He feels impossibly calm - like he’s floating out of this body again, like he’s just a director telling it what they need to accomplish - as he turns the flat of his blade to deflect part of Calain’s charge, and then smashes a palm up the underside of his jaw. The energy around them ripples, and Thenvunin’s own bats his attacker away with a rush of wind that howls through the chamber.

Calain smacks against the cavern wall; Thenvunin immobilizes him quickly, enabled mostly, he thinks, but the pure chaos of the other man’s aura, and the incoherence of his intentions. He sits on his back to hold him down, while Calain bucks, and keeps Swan’s Grace ready to deflect in case he should manage to summon his sword again.

But then, reality sinks back in, and Thenvunin is once again at a loss.

What… what he should do?

He can’t hold Calain down forever. But he can’t kill him, either. Even if it weren’t for the situation with Uthvir later on, Thenvunin’s never killed a person before. Trying to tell himself that Calain’s only a fictional character doesn’t seem to work very well. Not when he’s spasming and struggling like a very real, ill man, caught in some kind of terrible seizure.

“Help!” he tries calling. “We need assistance! Is anyone there?”

He thinks he hears something, or maybe a few things. But minutes pass and Calain is getting harder to restrain, and the bruising on his skin is looking worse by the minute, unless that’s just Thenvunin’s imagination. But it seems almost like… like he’s changing. Like the imbalance is…

Oh.

Oh, no. He remembers now. Imbalance one’s energies bad enough, and death can result. Calain body is being destroyed by the energies inside of it. Like a cancer.

But as Thenvunin remembers that, he also finds himself remembering something else. One of Uthvir’s wives went through something similar, didn’t she? Sabotaged in her training by a rival. But Uthvir saved her. In the sort of novel that Immortal Demon Way was, not saving their own wife wouldn’t have fit the power fantasy bill. So Uthvir had used their own spiritual equilibrium to restore hers. Thenvunin even remembers the description of the technique, although he also recalls it being described as very dangerous and liable to damage both parties if it backfires…

It’s seeing Calain spit up a mouthful of blood that finally makes up his mind.

“For the record, I’ve never done this before. So if it doesn’t work, I am sincerely trying,” he says.

Then he summons up his focus, and presses his fingers to specific points on Calain’s back. Digging in, and mustering up the energy he needs, and feeling out what the over-abundance of energy in the other man is. Then he starts channeling in a counter-balance from his own stores.

It feels strange. Like bleeding, almost, but not quite. Thenvunin’s arms tingle and his focus blurs a little. But he takes calm, steady breaths. If there’s one thing he does know, it’s how it feels when something’s going wrong in his body. And this feels tiring, and risky, but not like he’s committed a disaster yet. A soft glow emanates from his touch. He’s so focused, that he doesn’t notice when Calain stops struggling.

He does notice when the mottling on his skin begins to fade, though.

Thenvunin keeps up the process until he feels like he’s starting to lose his own balance. And then he finally pulls his hand away, and stops.

There’s a long moment of utter silence.

Then the system chimes in.

<Congratulations! You have successfully completed a character quest. +50.>

Fifty points? Just fifty, for all that? Thenvunin doesn’t know if he’s more surprised that he got anything at all, or offended that this was somehow worth fewer points than just stealing poor Uthvir’s treasured necklace.

Calain turns, and looks at him with eyes that seem bloodshot, but otherwise normal.

“What?” he says. “Thenvunin?”

He sounds simultaneously offended and bewildered. Thenvunin figures he can let the other man go, now, and does. Only starting to release him before Calain is shoving him off in return, and moving warily away from him.

Thenvunin folds his arms, unable to fight back his annoyance. It might be understandable that almost everyone hates him, here, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t getting sick of it, too.

“What’s that look for?” he demands. “I just saved your life! That was a risky move, you know. I’ve never done anything like that before. And you were trying to kill me the entire time, too!”

Calain’s brow furrows. He looks confused.

Thenvunin curses his luck.

“Oh please don’t tell me you have short-term memory loss?” he snaps. That would be his luck, wouldn’t it?

The comment seems to smooth out some of Calain’s features, though. The other man extends one arm outward, and Dawn’s Radiance flies back into it. Thenvunin stiffens; but after a second, Calain only sheaths the blade back at his hip.

“I remember,” he says, clipped and obviously still wary.

The two of them stare one another down.

“...Why?” Calain finally asks, breaking the silence.

Thenvunin straightens out his clothes, which had been sent somewhat askew by the fight, and hesitates on how to reply.

“Why what?” he asks, in the end.

It just seems to make Calain more annoyed, though.

The effect is somewhat undermined by the fact that the man is bizarrely pretty, though. Thenvunin is beginning to wonder what’s going on with that. When he read the book, he had sort of imagined Master Calain as being a rugged, muscles-upon-muscles, thick-and-hairy warrior type. Barrel-chested and stocky and square-jawed, the sort of man who fought bears under waterfalls. But on reflection, he supposed that the man’s reputation had been described more than his looks. And his sister, Calantha, was a remarkable beauty; dainty and fair, and actually described in an atypical amount of physical detail.

On that reflection, Thenvunin realizes that Calain looks essentially like a male version of her. He’s still obviously fit and broad-shouldered, taller than Thenvunin himself. But he’s delicate-looking too, with a princely sort of countenance. A pretty face, long eyelashes, soft mouth…

The contrast between expectation and reality is a little unnerving.

Still. Calain is glaring, and he does at least have the eyebrows to pull that off.

“Why would you do that?” he asks, looking Thenvunin up and down. As if he’s half expecting some vipers to suddenly come soaring out of his pockets or something.

Thenvunin sighs, internally, and reminds himself that there’s no point in getting annoyed. People are just going to be suspicious. The only person to blame for it isn’t here, because Thenvunin has taken his place.

“I’ve been… thinking about a lot of things,” he says. “Things I regret. About the past. About who I’ve been. I don’t want to be that person anymore, Calain. I’m trying to bury the Thenvunin Thenerassan you knew, and do a better job with the future than he ever would have. I would like to turn over a new leaf.”

Calain looks suspicious, still.

After a few more minutes of staring contests, Thenvunin gives up. He feels bad, now. Tired. Here he was supposed to be building up his spiritual energy, and now he’s set himself back instead. Not that he regrets it. After a moment he finds himself looking Calain over again, and while the other man may still be expecting some kind of trick…

Thenvunin just saved his life.

Maybe he can be proud of that, even if no one else is?

“I’m in the cave at the top of the passage,” he mentions, gesturing. “If you run into difficulties again, come and find me.”

Calain’s expression wavers, while Thenvunin starts to head up. It’s only then that he finally hears the sound of voices calling. Battle Peak disciples approaching from the opposite end of Calain’s chamber, by the sounds of it. After a moment of considering, Thenvunin just decides to keep going. Let them look after Calain, now. They’re his colleagues and he’s probably more comfortable with that anyway.

After a while he hears Calain finally turn and answer the calls, and then the voices move further than Thenvunin can properly hear. He finishes making his way back up the passage, and heads into his own cavern again. Settling down, reviewing the last manual he read, and focusing on figuring out just what all he did to himself, and how he should probably reverse it.

It’s good practice, he tells himself.

Come morning, he has changed his mind entirely. Exerting that much energy in such a strange way was absolutely not worth it. He should have just killed Calain. Maybe this sadistic system would have given him more points. Probably, he thinks. And then he wouldn’t be feeling like someone filled his head with bees and tied all of his muscles into knots.

The second day he gives up on progressing a few times in favour of just quietly weeping in the corner of his cavern.

Eventually, though, Thenvunin finds himself getting back on track. The buzzing in his skull abates, and he manages to smooth out all the aches in his own body, with a deliberateness that makes him envious even while he’s doing it. If only he could have done this while he was alive! Just - fix himself! Heal himself, oh, that would have been a dream come true. The number of nights he had spent awake wishing he could just will his bones better…

It makes him a little emotionally unbalanced. He has to start some things over again, and switches to sword practice for a while instead.

A few times, he thinks about going to check on Calain. But he hears no more strange noises, and after a while, he decides against it. He doesn’t want to jinx it, he managed to get away without killing the man this time, but what if testing his luck just means he ends up doing the whole thing over again?

Sometimes he can tell, without really seeing, that there are other disciples moving around the caves. But mostly, things just stay quiet, and never sees anyone. Hears things, feels things, but doesn’t see things. He forces himself to put his attention to what he needs to do, what he came for. After a while he loses track of time entirely, but, he still has a strong sense that he should stay put for now.

Until, one evening, he abruptly finds that he doesn’t anymore.

Time to go.

Without sparing much thought to question it, Thenvunin gathers up his things. He hesitates, warring with himself over it; but then he turns towards the passageway leading down to the big chamber. It’s still daylight outside the caves, and that makes him feel bolder, even though it doesn’t change the light levels in the passage any.

When he makes his way down, he sees Calain sitting on a flattened stone in the chamber. Eyes closed.

“Brother,” he calls. “I’m leaving. Just so you know. Good luck with the rest of your endeavours.”

It would have been irresponsible, Thenvunin thinks, to just leave without letting the man know that a potential source of help had gone.

Calain doesn’t give any acknowledgement of having heard him or not.

After a minute, Thenvunin can’t help but sniff in annoyance. Muttering a little to himself about rude people and ingrates before turning on his heel and making his way all the way back up that damn passage again, before consulting his map to find the quickest route out.

Once he’s out, getting back to Quiet Peak will be simpler than leaving it. He can just use his energy to fly his way there on his sword. A genre trope that always seemed a little odd to him, but when he tested it out during one of his attempts to master a few basic abilities, he suddenly discovered the appeal.

Of flying, at least.

The map leads him to an opening that heads straight up and out of a wide side passage. Thenvunin takes it, and lets out an audible sigh of relief as he finally comes clear of the cavern rock and breaks out into the trees and open air again. A slightly frigid wind blowing past him, carrying just the faintest hints of snow, while the trees sway. He lets his energy carry him up above the tops of them, as he stretches his arms out again.

That was a success, he thinks. He does feel somewhat better about himself and his abilities now. Even if that whole debacle with Calain still feels vaguely traumatic.

He turns towards Quiet Peak…

…And halts, going cold all over again.

Flames lick upwards from the direction of the temple. While the sky towards the opposite horizon is grey, closer to the peak, the air shimmers with an eerie red light. The next gust of wind that blows his way carries ash instead of snow, and right as he sees it, he hears the first distant chime of the temple’s alarm bells.

He forgot.

How could he forget?!

The attack! The attack on the temple, when Uthvir was fifteen. One of the most formative moments in Uthvir’s pre-Hell development, one of the first ‘big’ fights, a pivotal moment before the tournament that actually seemed to make the story really kick off the ground.

The attack!

Demons have come to Quiet Peak.

#scum villain au #sharkbait #cliffhanger warning #i really wanted to post something #most of my writing efforts have not gone well but!#i am still trying and this was the best success i've had lately #so here you go guys hope somebody likes it #long post

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