#granted he needs to be whacked on the head with a newspaper at times but still

[20001541]

You know what, I don't think O want dfo anymore, I want AFO head in a stick.

anon 😭

is because of what happened to tomura? I expected the decay was given to him theory come true, but didn't expect for afo's manipulation and abuse to extend that far. tenko has had that man screwing with his life from the very moment he was born, he lost the fight before he even knew what was happening.

there's still hope, I really don't believe tomura is fully dead. not after having an extremely depressing life. but who knows hori could surprise me as he did today lol

[ellanainthetardis]

We find out some things today. Hopefully not all bad ones.

[ff] or [ao3]

54. 7 Months & 17 Weeks

Effie angrily pushed the remote’s button, switching channels before she could get too upset. She didn’t often watch the news, that was more Haymitch’s thing, but she had gotten stuck in front of a supposedly neutral documentary about a group of Capitols who wanted to bring awareness to the fact District people hadn’t been the only ones to get hurt during the war. The leader of that group, she suspected, was the one her Mother had gone to listen to.

The journalists had been patronizing and even mocking with him when not outright disbelieving.

Effie sighed and turned to the playpen to make sure April was alright. Her daughter didn’t seem in anyway disturbed by the TV, she was happily hitting the colorful buttons of a toy Peeta had bought her in town two days earlier. Every time she managed to push one, a little plastic animal popped out. She was trying to get them loose but failed every time and it frustrated her to no end until she forgot and pushed another button.

She watched April, more interested by the way her daughter finally gave up on the toy to roll on her back and then on her stomach and slowly crawled to where her toys where, sometimes letting out joyful little chirps. She grabbed her stuffed elephant – or tried to because it was slightly too big for her little hands and she often dropped it – and amused herself by picking it up a few times before she suddenly moved her head in a telltale way.

“Mama is right here, sweetie.” Effie hummed, settling on a fashion channel and turning the sound off. She carefully sat up, placing a hand on her stomach before swinging her legs off the couch. She was having small cramps that day and she didn’t like the tearing sensation in her lower stomach. It would go away, she was confident, but she didn’t like it. “Do you want Mama to play with you?”

She plucked her from the playpen along with the stuffed elephant and a handful of colorful toys and settled them back on the couch. She didn’t really feel up to rolling around on the floor at the moment.

Four months done and five to go, she told herself, her mind going back to everything she needed to do. She hadn’t gone as far as writing down a schedule but she had certainly made it clear to Haymitch that she wanted to have the nursery and April’s room sorted earlier than they had last time. She remembered how exhausted she had been at the end and she really didn’t want to have to worry about a thing past her sixth month.

She was distractedly waving the elephant in the air for her daughter to catch when she felt the baby kick. It was getting stronger but not enough for anyone else to feel it yet. Still, she smiled and gently petted her stomach with her free hand.

“It will be amazing, the four of us, darling…” she promised her daughter. “It will be so, so good, you will see…” She let her imagination wander and the picture was so clear in her mind… With April in front of her, it wasn’t hard to imagine another child who would look like her. Girl or boy didn’t make a difference to her although she had a strong inkling this one would be a boy. She just… She felt it. Only hours to wait before they would know anyway… She picked up April and sat her on her lap, peppering her stomach and cheeks with kisses to make her laugh. She felt a little guilty about being more… relaxed into this pregnancy than she had been for hers. “Mama loves you. Mama loves you so much.”

Her eyes darted to the clock eventually but there was still plenty of time before the appointment at the clinic. She was nervous and excited and couldn’t wait for the morning to end so it was finally time. She had been a ball of nerves for two days and Haymitch had delighted in mocking her.

The sudden commotion outside distracted her from April but before she had time to do little more than stand up, her daughter protectively held close in her arms, she heard the front door opening, Haymitch’s raised voice ordering someone to let go and… A flash of white dashed in the living-room, straight to her, growling a little… Haymitch came running after the dog, still snapping at Snowball to let go…

Effie was confused until she spotted the dead rabbit dangling from the dog’s jaws.

She shrieked and jumped on the couch, forgetting all about pregnancy or the baby in her arms or even the fact that Snowball was certainly no mice and had no problem with couch jumping. The dog hopped on the grey couch, lifting on his hinder legs to receive the usual post stroll cuddle. The dead rabbit was far too close and in an attempt at not getting in contact with it – or worse letting April get in contact with it – Effie stepped back and almost fell over. It was lucky one side of the L-shaped couch was pushed against the window because her back hit the glass instead of her simply tipping over.

Haymitch had finally managed to get a hold on the dog by that point and he started wrestling the dead thing from his mouth.

“Drop this now.” he warned in a low serious voice. Snowball growled a little, stubbornly staring back. “I’m so not in the mood for this. Drop. It. Now.” How long had this been going on? The dog let out another annoyed growl and got a small warning whack on the nose for his trouble. “Drop it.”

“Snowball, drop this disgusting thing now or I swear.” she snapped.

The dog looked at her, whined and – miracle of all miracles – dropped the dead rabbit.

On the couch.

Effie climbed down and moved to the other end of the room, next to the bookshelves, hiding behind one of the armchairs.

“Good boy.” Haymitch acknowledged, pointing at the dog’s bed. “Now down. We said we would never bring dead things to Effie, remember? That trick was supposed to be for Katniss only.”

Effie pursed her lips, really not pleased. “Have you been training my puppy to hunt, Haymitch?”

“Haven’t been training him to do shit, Princess.” he scoffed. “He’s a dog. He sees rabbits and squirrels dashing past him in the woods, he chases them. Sometimes he catches them. I give them to the girl before you can freak.”

“So why is there a dead rabbit on my couch?” she hissed, cradling the back of April’s head in her hand. Their daughter hadn’t exactly liked all the commotion. She wasn’t crying but she didn’t look happy either.

“Got distracted.” he grumbled, clearly irritated.

He plucked a rolled-up newspaper from the pocket of his coat and tossed it on the armchair she was hiding behind before disposing of the rabbit. She dearly hoped he also intended to disinfect the couch. Ideally she would have burned it and replaced it but couches were hard to come by in Twelve.

She waited until the dead thing was gone – and if there was rabbit stew tonight she would gladly not think about how it ended up on her plate – before reaching for the newspaper. It was Twelve’s local one.

‘Another Abernathy Baby On The Way?’ screamed the headline.

She let out a small unsurprised sigh, skimming through the accompanying article. It was compiling rumors, some sightings of her with an open coat, mainly at the Clarkes’ coffee shop, and their frequent visits to the clinic.

“Have you noticed how slower our private news hit the press when Plutarch isn’t made aware?” she asked when Haymitch came back, lacking his coat and scarf, sleeves rolled up – hopefully because he had just washed his hands. Perhaps it was a bit unfair of her to think so because the former Head Gamemaker was always happy to help when they asked for a favor but she couldn’t help but think the man put his interests first and theirs later. “We lasted four months. We knew we would not be able to hide it forever.”

“I know.” he granted, running a hand through his hair. “Just… Today’s supposed to be happy. Wasn’t exactly ready for Sae to corner me at the Hob and ask me if it was true.”

Effie made a sympathetic face, knowing how much he hated feeling trapped like that. She handed April over when he outstretched his arms and went straight to the kitchen, wondering how best to clean the couch. Haymitch followed her, making their daughter bounce a little, his annoyance softening at her delighted sounds.

“If it is in Twelve’s newspaper today, it will be public knowledge by the end of the day.” she pointed out, crouching in front of the cupboard under the sink with some difficulties.

“Don’t do that.” he grumbled, trying to haul her up with his free hand. “Here, take the baby and tell me what you want…” She waved him off. She was already there anyway. She grabbed a few products and gripped the edge of the counter to stand up, immediately placing a hand on her stomach when she was back on her feet. This baby didn’t like exercise much, she had noticed. Haymitch was studying her with rapt attention. “Shouldn’t overdo it.”

“I am not overdoing it.” she protested. “I spent the whole morning lounging on the couch.”

If it had been left to her she would have been doing things while April was busy playing with her toys. The laundry for instance, that she had put on the backburner for days and that was now threatening to become unmanageable. But her body warned her she needed rest and so she rested.

Haymitch didn’t really look happy but she suspected he wouldn’t be happy with much that day. He hated it when their private life was dragged on print for everyone to read, it was the reason he had been so angry about Katniss publishing those remembrance books to begin with. She wasn’t any more thrilled about it but she had grown up expecting it so… It was sad how used to it she was.

“I’m surprised Plutarch didn’t call yet.” he grumbled, distractedly poking the cartoonish dancing bear on April’s soft woolen sweater.

“Oh, I am sure he will call tomorrow to congratulate us once everyone in Panem knows and apologize he wasn’t able to sit on the news any longer.” she snorted. “We should confirm it and then refuse to comment further. It will be a week or so before they move on. Us getting married and having babies is old news now.”

She winked at him, eyes sparkling in mischief.

“Yeah… Probably boring to them.” he smirked, leaning in to steal a kiss when she walked past him to the living-room.

She pecked his lips willingly enough. “I wouldn’t exchange our boring life for anything else.”

“Got enough excitement back in the days.” he sighed and dropped on the couch, far from the place contaminated with dead rabbit germs. Snowball lifted his head when she walked past him but she ignored the dog, not keen on rewarding the kind of behavior that involved him bringing her dead animals. “Still think it’s a boy?”

There was a small hint of teasing in his voice and she grinned before starting to disinfect the couch, not even taking offense. “I am ninety-nine percent certain it is a boy. I told you. I have this feeling.”

“How come you had no feeling whatsoever for April?” he snorted. “’Cause that would have been helpful.”

She paused in her scrubbing to purse her lips, avoiding his gaze. “I was too afraid to lose her.” That put an end to his teasing quickly but she hadn’t really meant to damper the mood so she forced herself to smile and add a cheer to her voice. “We should probably start discussing names, you know.”

“Good thing is… If it’s a boy, we’re covered.” he answered, wrapping his arms protectively around April when she curled up against his chest. “If it’s a girl we’re back to name hunting…”

“You still want Aidan for a boy?” she asked, her gaze darting to the baby falling asleep against him. “It was meant for her originally… I wouldn’t want her to find out one day and think we replaced her with her sibling because…”

“Sweetheart… We ain’t about to toss the shrimp to the streets.” he said gently but with that hint of amusement that told her he thought she was being ridiculous. “We like the name… If it’s a boy, I don’t see the harm. It’s not like we want a boy so bad just to call him Aidan. Besides, we’ve still got a ton of stuff in the attic you said was too boyish and half of it is branded with that name so…”

She straightened up, giving up on the cleaning, and placed her hands on her hips, lips pursed. “It should not be about it being convenient.”

He rolled his eyes, automatically lowering his voice when he realized April had fallen asleep. “Do you like Aidan?”

“Well… Yes.” she admitted.

“Do you like another name better for a boy?” he insisted knowingly. “For our son?”

She mulled that over for a few seconds and then surrendered. “No.” A grin stretched her lips and she sat down, snatching the stuffed elephant and hugging it close to her chest before she could help herself. “Our son.”

“Wait for the ultrasound.” he chuckled with unabashed amusement. “What if it’s another girl? You want a boy that bad?”

“I do not want a boy, I know this baby is a boy.” she argued, hugging the elephant tighter. “And if I am mistaken… Obviously I would not mind as long as she is healthy.” She ducked her head a little to hide her smile because it was so manic it was starting to hurt. “I still cannot believe we are having another one sometimes. I am… Oh, I am so happy, Haymitch…”

She might not have been over the moon at first but now…

“I’m happy too, sweetheart.” he confessed, tenderly combing April’s hair with his fingers. “More than I ever thought I could be.”

Effie climbed on the couch and curled up into his side, resting one hand on her stomach and the other on their daughter. “If it is another girl, we will find her a pretty name… Just like her sister.” That word made her grin again. Sister. “They will have a great relationship, won’t they? We won’t make any difference between them. I want them to be close. Not like Lyssa and I.”

“I was close with my brother.” Haymitch offered after a short silence. “He… He was a pain most days but… Yeah… We were close.” He cleared his throat. “Whatever Larcher tells us it is, we should plan for another name just in case it’s another surprise.”

“I agree.” she hummed quietly. Snowball uncertainly padded over, silently placing his head on Haymitch’s knee, his dark eyes all pleading. Effie sighed. “Yes, you are still my pretty baby. Even if you are also a disgusting one.”

The dog barked joyfully and jumped on the couch with them, eager to get his cuddle from Effie – and yet always somehow careful not to hit her in the stomach, it was uncanny how he seemed to know. She struggled to keep his head away from her face, not keen on being licked by a tongue that had been in contact with dead game.

Lunch was a quiet affair, mostly because Effie was so excited for the upcoming appointment that she could barely focus on anything else. She fed April her mashed carrots and tried not to get any on herself – a feat when her daughter had decided she didn’t like something – grumbling at the way Haymitch laughed at her. It was annoying to her that he had seemed so much more adept at feeding her from the start. Feeding her child was supposed to be her job.

Except she wasn’t able to feed herself properly most days so… If it had been left to her, she would have survived on take-away, crackers and fruits. Instead, she ate the roast leftovers from the previous night and it was still just as good as she remembered. Haymitch muttered that she was being stupid when she mentioned it – because somehow his ability to cook seemed to be a point of embarrassment instead of pride.

She had just put April down for her nap when Katniss showed up, nose and cheeks red from the cold, the woolen hat Effie had knitted for her pulled low on her head to cover her ears.

“Wrap up.” the girl advised her. “It’s freezing.”

“Smells like snow outside.” Haymitch confirmed, glancing through the window.

The joy of winter in Twelve, Effie thought but didn’t voice, while Katniss and Haymitch started a debate about smelling versus feeling snow. She was fidgeting so much that Haymitch eventually rolled his eyes and stood up, suggesting they went ahead even if they were half an hour early before she could burst from excitement.

She glared at him but jumped on the offer, taking five minutes to shoot out a list of recommendations Katniss didn’t really need by now. The girl might not be fond of babies but she had learned to babysit well enough.

And in any case, they should be back before April woke up from her nap. It wouldn’t take that long.

At Haymitch’s insistence, she made sure her green coat was buttoned all the way up. She let him adjust her pink scarf and hat while she pulled on her gloves, refusing to comment on the quirk of his mouth that meant he was finding the color mix ridiculous. Bundled up as warmly as she was going to get, they set off for the clinic.

The weather was bad and there weren’t many people out but the few they saw left no doubt as to how popular that rumor about her pregnancy had become. A few of them greeted them with a  nod or a word, others just stared rudely as they were in a habit to do in her presence… When Haymitch was at her side, she didn’t have to worry about insults or anything getting out of hand, he was too impressive for anyone to try it. But still… It felt to her as if everyone looked at her stomach at least once.

They must have been disappointed because the coat hid everything.

“Can we make a quick stop at the coffee shop on our way back?” Effie hummed. “I promised Eileen I would tell her how it went right away and I wouldn’t mind one of those hot chocolate with whipped cream she makes.”

“Sure.” he shrugged. “Wouldn’t mind one of those pumpkin drinks myself.”

“It’s a date, then.” she purred.

He smirked and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. It wasn’t the most practical to walk with her stomach starting to get in the way but she melted into his side anyway.

The moment they stepped into the clinic’s waiting area, every pair of eyes in the place turned to them. It seemed to be a slow day, fortunately. A couple of elderly people, a woman and a man who all stared at them with curiosity and, in some cases, reprobation. She was strongly reminded of Clay but Haymitch led her to a seat before her hands could truly start shaking, mumbling at her to sit down while he checked with the nurse at the front desk. Nobody called her out and nobody made a scene. When she accidentally met the old man’s gaze, he nodded once. It was a little stiff but it was also polite so she smiled in answer and quickly averted her eyes.

She took off her hat and patted her hair, not deluded enough to think it still looked presentable with all the humidity in the air and a trip under a hat. Surely enough, the blond curls seemed out of control under her palm. She tousled them a little, hoping it didn’t look as wild as it felt.

Haymitch’s gaze when he walked back to her said it all though. His grey eyes had darkened a little with a familiar hunger that told her the curls were completely out of control. It drove him mad with lust when it looked like that.

“Won’t be long.” he said.

She drummed her fingers on her thigh nervously until he covered her hand with his. She turned it so their palms could slid together and she entwined their fingers. After they had stopped at the Clarkes’, maybe they could stop at the toy store. She wanted to buy something for their jellyfish. Her mother had sent things as soon as she had told her naturally, for the new baby as well as for April, and the children had bought a darling little romper… But she and Haymitch had yet to buy anything specifically for the new baby. A stuffed toy, she decided. She would buy him a stuffed toy. A white bear, maybe. A very soft one…

“We should paint the nursery blue.” she hummed, her mind jumping to the white bear she wanted to buy to decoration matters. “We could keep Peeta’s drawing and paint underneath and over it.”

“So, April’s room’s gonna be pink and the baby’s room’s gonna be blue?” he snorted. “What happened to gender neutral colors?”

She pursed her lips. “I got bored with yellow. And it does not suit me at all. I look ill in a yellow room.”

“The kitchen’s yellow.” he pointed out.

Unwisely, in her opinion.              

“I will take that into consideration when we go buy paint.” she declared.

He rolled his eyes. “Maybe it’s a girl.”

“It’s not.” she protested, shaking her head.

He was mostly arguing to tease her, she figured. He was annoying like that.

The nurse had barely finished calling Mrs Abernathy when she shot out of her chair. The woman chuckled at her impatience as she settled them in the examination room but Effie didn’t mind. She didn’t even mind the white walls or the distinctive smell of disinfectant.

She barely even answered Doctor Larcher’s greetings properly when he entered the room, her eyes glued to the ultrasound machine. Haymitch was clearly dying to mock her but was good enough to keep himself in check. Besides, he looked a little impatient too.

Small talk was quickly put out of the way when the doctor instructed her to lift her sweater and unbutton her pants so he could have access to her stomach. She flinched a little because the gel was cold and Haymitch grabbed her hand, maybe mistaking that for a sign of an incoming panic attack.

She was doing well though.

She just wanted to see her baby.

“Did you notice anything unusual or is there anything you would like to ask me?” Larcher asked distractedly, as he tinkered with the machine to turn it on.  

“Not really, no.” she dismissed. “I finally stopped feeling sick in the afternoon and I do not get any dizzying spell anymore.”

“That’s very good.” the doctor smiled.

“Hormones are up the roof.” Haymitch muttered and shrugged innocently when she glared at him.

“That’s to be expected.” Larcher chuckled. “Now… Let’s see if we can tell what we will be having…” He shot them a guilty look. “Accurately this time.”

“Yeah, that would be great.” he deadpanned.

She squeezed his hand to warn him not to spoil the moment. It took almost a whole minute for Larcher to find the right spot and the doctor was frowning by the time he located the baby. Effie breathed a sigh of relief when she saw him appear on the screen, not paying attention to anything but to the tiny baby moving in her belly.

“Here you are…” she whispered. “Look, Haymitch…”

“I see.” he smirked, just as enthralled by the sight as she was. Larcher pushed a button and the sound of a strong and steady heartbeat filled the room, bringing tears to her eyes. Haymitch’s smirk grew wider until it blossomed into a real smile. “So? Can you tell if it’s a boy? ‘Cause we’ve got a bet going…”

Larcher took a while to answer, moving the probe lower on her stomach, then to the right and the left.

Effie finally noticed the frown.

At the same time Haymitch did.

“What’s wrong?” they asked as one.

“Is it the baby?” she worried, a lump in her throat. “Is something wrong?”

“The baby is fine.” Larcher said in a firm reassuring voice. “The heartbeat is strong and he’s growing well. A bit small but April was small too so that isn’t worrying.”

“Then what’s wrong?” Haymitch insisted, squeezing her fingers so hard it hurt. She almost didn’t notice.

The doctor hesitated, moving the probe again until the baby was front and center. “Did you lose blood at all, Effie? Even a few drops?”

“No.” she denied at once, barely comforted by the thought her baby was fine. Something was wrong, it was plain to see and it might affect her child. It might… “I would have called you.”

She had lost blood with April, at the beginning, but not this time… The worst she had had this time was a few cramps that weren’t even so terrible… And she had had them with April too so, surely, there were no reasons to worry? Upset stomachs were to be expected. It was in every pregnancy book.  

“Alright.” the doctor said calmly. “First thing first… The baby is doing well. I don’t want you to worry.” They exchanged a look and they didn’t even bother to pretend not to be worried for the other’s sake. Larcher cleared his throat, bringing their attention back to him. “It is a boy. No false positive this time, look… Here are the fingers and toes… And here is the penis… No tiny hands in wrong places.”

He pointed out everything in turn and Effie relaxed a little despite everything.

“Our son.” she breathed out, smiling up at Haymitch.

Haymitch wasn’t smiling though. He was barely looking at the screen. His attention was on the doctor.

“If it’s not the baby, then it’s Effie.” he said, his voice clipped with anxiety. “Tell me what’s wrong. Now.”

Larcher slowly placed the probe back on its cradle. “There’s no need to panic, Haymitch. Effie, I will have a nurse settle you in a private room. We will run some tests and I will examine you, alright? Haymitch, maybe you should go get a coffee while we…”

“No.” she protested, coiling her free hand around his wrist, clinging to his fingers. She looked up at him, eyes wide and frightened, making an effort to keep her breathing under control. “Don’t leave me.”

“Believe me, sweetheart, it would take an army to keep me away.” he spat, covering her other hand with his free one. He was glaring at the doctor now and maybe it was unfair because it wasn’t Larcher’s fault but she couldn’t even begin to tell him off. It was… “What’s wrong with her?”

“Please, try to remain calm.” the doctor requested. “We won’t know for sure until…

“What is wrong with me?” she snapped, raising her voice loud enough to be heard in the hallway probably. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “My apologies. I…”

“The placenta is very low.” Larcher cut her off, dismissing her apologies with a wave of his hand. He didn’t look offended, just worried. “It might be nothing, it might be something. We need to make sure for your safety and the baby’s.”

“Is that really bad?” Haymitch asked, nervously licking his lips.

The doctor’s face said it all.

[jack-manpain-zimmermann]

If I Blink Twice

Sort of fits in the Missing Scenes series I guess? More prequel type stuff, and as always is just me playing around in Ngozi’s sandbox. The Zimmerparents are wonderful people and adore their son, but I like peering into where the cracks might have been along the way.

I suppose technically this is 'underage' but the sexual side of the pimms is only vaguely/jokingly referenced, there's nothing explicit at all. Just two foolish teenage boys.

Title is from Growing Up by Run River North

beta as always by @wrathofthestag <3

on AO3

Bob hears the rumble of sleepy teenaged boy voices on the second floor landing even over the sizzle of the frying pan, and immediately turns to where his wife is filling the coffee pot.

“Uh-oh, here come the lovebirds!” he whispers into Alicia’s ear before turning the heat down on the potatoes. He sees the line of her shoulders immediately straighten and she stares resolutely at the open cupboards.

“About damn time. It’s nearly ten,” she mutters taking out two plates and mugs.

“Now, now,” Bob says in a placating tone. “We’ve both been there before. Let’s be fair.”

The way she raises her eyebrows without responding makes Bob chuckle.

Jack’s form appears in the open-plan dining room first, and he peers warily into the kitchen. Bob gives him a reassuring nod and Jack passes it along up the stairs.

Kent descends while Jack watches, in a kind of slow-motion teen movie moment. Not that Bob has room to laugh, as he’d have looked at him in much the same way when he was Jack’s age.

Kenny is slim and well-proportioned for his age with that fair blondness that seems to shimmer in the sun. The preppy boy blush that’s permanently on his cheeks is dappled over with freckles that set off his green eyes well. He’s wearing a set of Jack’s sweats with the legs and sleeves rolled up and it’s... fairly adorable.

He steps directly into Jack’s space and cranes his head back to murmur something that makes Jack light up with an affectionate smile.

They stay in a world of their own, sharing breathing space and leaning intimately against each other’s bodies as if Jack’s parents aren’t directly within sight. It’s a good look on Jack, who wouldn’t even hold hands with his girlfriends in front of his parents.

Bob muses to himself that it must be a positive sign, how Jack was treating a boy he could never date openly as less of a dirty little secret than any of the girls he had dated. The way Kenny was looking up at Jack as if he’d personally made the sky blue and the grass green, Bob figures Jack’s feelings couldn’t have held out forever against that kind of charm.

He realizes he’s smiling goofily at them and turns away. Alicia however, is looking downright disapproving. She quickly schools her expression into something placid before either of the boys can notice.

“You boys have time for some breakfast?” she calls out a little shrill.

It seems to jolt Jack and Kent back to reality and they wander over, expressions still love-drunk.

“Good Morning, Mr. and Mrs. Zimmermann,” Kent says as Jack mutters his own greeting.

“Please, son, call me Bob. I still think people are talking to my dad when they say Mr. Zimmermann.” Bob reaches out an arm and draws Kent to his side.

“Sleep alright?” Bob murmurs, nudging Kent and winking in a way that makes the kid flush up to his ears and giggle nervously.

“ Daaaad !”

“ Bobby !”

Bob grins at them both and makes a little swipe at Kent’s cowlick.

“What about ‘Bad Bob’, eh?” Jack chortles, sneaking some potatoes from the pan and passing some to Kenny. He only just misses his mom’s spatula thwacking at him. “That’s still what Kenny calls you when he talks about you, like, all the time.”

“Jaaack… ” Kent takes the potatoes, casting a guilty look at Alicia and an embarrassed one at Jack.

Bob steals one of the potatoes, and jostles the boy to make him relax.

“Alicia’s the only call who calls me Bad Bob to my face nowadays. And that’s only if I’ve been really bad.”

“Bob, I swear. I’m going to have child services come pick this boy up if you don’t stop!”

Kent uses their laughter as a cover to shake his head minutely at Jack, who had immediately shot him a concerned look.

“You should call Alicia ‘Mrs. Zimmermann’, though,” Bob mutters and pats Kent on the shoulder twice before shuffling back to work on breakfast.

Alicia shoves two store-bought protein shakes into Jack’s hands.

“Here. Since your father won’t let you give me an answer on breakfast, I’m going to assume you need to get going.”

“Thanks, maman,” Jack says, letting her kiss his cheek and switching the shakes to one hand. “Dad, can I have Kenny back now?”

Bob laughs and wraps his arm around Kent’s head in a half-noogie, pressing a kiss to his hair.

“Don’t be a stranger ‘round these parts, Kenny! At least not more of a stranger than Jacques is,” he says only slightly accusingly at his son.

Jack gives him an indulgent eye-roll in response.

Kent pauses in the doorway, one hand held by Jack who is already walking out of the room.

“Thank you for letting me stay over, Bob and… Mrs. Zimmermann.”

His eyes betray just enough frailty that Alicia relents and with a small nudge to the hip from her husband, she smiles as warmly as she can.

“You were no trouble at all Kenny. Feel free to stay any time.”

Jack casts an impressed look at her over Kent’s head and finally succeeds in getting them both out of the living room.

The kitchen seems to glow with teenage love, even after they’ve both gone. A trail of blushing, freshly-showered boy stays where they were and it makes Bob fall quiet in his own memories.

“Well, I guess that settles that then,” Alicia sighs, her annoyance breaking the silence.

“For me it was settled after the third round,” Bob rubs a hand over his tired face. “Ah, I remember those days.”

Alicia chuckles. “Did the headphones not work? I swear I thought we had more than the one pair of earplugs.”

“They managed to block out most of the racket--I tell you either our son is some kind of sixteen-year-old sex maestro or Kenny was putting on those operatics.  But the, ah, rhythmic stuff still made it through unfortunately.”

They both laugh ruefully and go about settling in for breakfast. Jack had been bringing home “friends” far too long now for them to suddenly mention how awkwardly sound travels even across a whole wing of a quiet house. Not without equally incriminating themselves all these years, at least.

“Still, it’s a good sign that he’s brought this one home so soon,” Bob muses as he smushes scrambled egg over his potatoes. “It’s only fair after all the times the other parents had to wear ear plugs when Jack visits.”

“I just,” Alicia sets down her slice of toast and finishes chewing. “We can’t seem to find out anything about him. He’s so evasive about his parents and even how he got into Juniors. And he seems troubled, Bob. I’m sure there’s something in his eyes…”

“Now, come on Ms. Worrier. Don’t go down that road,” Bob says softly, putting a hand on the kitchen island between them. “They’re unlikely to continue whatever they’re doing once they’re both drafted. So at the very most we only have to deal with a teenage fling for a couple of years.”

Alicia looks slightly comforted at the thought, but continues to frown at the margarine.

“And you know damn well Jack was going to go after that kid as soon as he laid eyes on him,” Bob continues. “Prince Caspian… “ he says winsomely.

Alicia joins in the imitation of their four-year-old son on first seeing twenty-something Sam West.

“Pretty! Pretty!” they both whisper in baby voices, raising trembling hands at a blond youth on an invisible TV screen. The memory loses them both in smiles for a moment.

Alicia sighs and stands to refill their coffee.

“But is it too much to ask that Kenny was some kind, steady little homebody as well as being stunning and blonde? I mean, who’s going to look after our baby when he’s drafted and living on his own?”

Bob raises his eyebrows and smirks. “That’s a pretty sexist remark from a feminist who wore shoulder pads up to her ears in the eighties--Ow! Ouch, okay, okay I’m sorry!”

Alicia whacks him with the newspaper once more for good measure.

“And actually it’s potentially homophobic as well as sexist. No!” She laughs and bats away the newspaper Bob is brandishing back at her.

“I’ve done my best, Bobby, but I’m working against your system here,” she continues. “It’s one thing for him to someday be a helpless twenty-year-old sharing a house with a teammate. But let’s face it, he’s not going to find some sweet young thing with a heart of gold who a) won’t immediately be swayed by who he is, b) also happens to love hockey and and c) won’t mind the wedding ceremony being at an ice rink. And nothing less would make Jack happy. He isn’t like you, Bob. He’s never going to love anyone as much as he loves hockey.”

Bob nods in agreement, but with a hopeful twinkle.

“Well, maybe we should keep an open mind about Kenny then? Maybe Jack ending up with a teammate is the only way for it to go. I mean, granted I had some good looking guys on my teams but personally I would’ve rather lived alone my whole life than actually married any of the bums.”

“Aw, gee honey! I feel so special!” Alicia simpers, and actually does get the brunt of the newspaper this time. They tousle a little before getting up to clear breakfast away; Bob on his usual dishwasher loading duty while Alicia looks on.

“I guess it was too much to hope that he wouldn’t grow out of the baby fat. I’m still not over the fact that my little awkward roly-poly is a big, strong mensch now. Let alone how soon he started getting interest from the other kids.”

She looks into the distance wistfully, kneading her husband’s ass absentmindedly where he’s bent over putting in a dishwashing tablet.

“Like father, like son!” Bob grins as he turns to her, taking the other hand and placing it on his ass as well. “Would you have been interested in me if you’d seen me as a young mensch at your bat mitzvah?” he wheedles, putting both hands into her hair.

“Honey, you were a Catholic.”

“Okay well, if you’d seen me as a handsome young schmuck at a non-denominational social gathering?”

Alicia smiles in a way that has made Bob weak in the knees for the past eighteen years.

“With that awful long hair and those hideous stonewash jeans you used to wear? You’d have been lucky it was bashert that we’d end up together. Now, let me worry about our son for another hour while you get on the phone and find out everything you can about this Kent boy.”

Bob slumps over, groaning and making a move to escape the room.

“Can’t the inquisition wait a couple weeks at least? It’s not like one of them is gonna get pregnant, or they’re going to run off and get married. Besides, if you ask me--” he pauses when he glances back and catches Alicia staring back at him. “What, what is it?”

“Bobby, both of their sweaters had wet patches on the back.”

She sighs when Bob looks nonplussed.

“It takes less time to dry off from a shower than it does to take one,” she says, staring down at the dish towel and suddenly very serious. “Sweetie, how many sixteen-year-old flings did you ever share a single shower with? You know damn well this isn’t like all the others.”

She looks up into Bob’s startled eyes, both of them feeling a shadow of foreboding pass over the house, suddenly so quiet and empty.

[shu-of-the-wind]

rebelcaptain; foster care au vi

Whoops that took forever. 

No particular warnings for this one. Rey’s backstory has been modded for a modern AU,. XD 

She didn't think it was going to work out badly, per se, but there's a certain amount of relief in her gut when Rey comes home from the third or fourth meeting of the history club beaming and babbling about a girl named Rose Tico and a museum trip 

"Next Saturday," Rey says, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Jyn, struggling with the zipper of her jacket, grunts. "Can I go?"

"Which museum?"

"African-American History." She bounces some more. Out of the corner of Jyn's eye, Finn creeps into view down the hall. He's not been entirely sure what to make of Rey joining the history club--he might like Mr. A's classes, but he's more a taekwondo enthusiast than anything. Actually, Jyn's surprised that Rey is enjoying the history club so much. Rey's the type to take apart toasters and microwaves and put them back together again as her weekend activity, not go mad over old flyers from the Second World War. But still. "Can I go?"

"Are you taking the bus?"

"We're meeting up at the school and taking the metro. Mr. A's coming with us."

"So it's a school trip?"

Rey sucks her teeth. "Sort of? A club trip. But everyone's going. Mr. A says the Smithsonian museums are free, you just have to schedule tickets for some of them a few days before. And I have a metro pass."

Right. Jyn's not much of a museum person. She wins her wrestling match with her jacket, and hangs it, dripping, from the hook next to the front door. "Huh."

"Can I go?" Rey bounces again. "It's with Mr. A. And then Rose and me were talking about going to get food after."

She's thirteen, Jyn thinks. And Rey can take care of herself. Something clutches at her throat, and eases almost in the same moment. "I have a shift at the Cantina until six, if you want to come there after. So you don't have to walk back alone from the metro station."

Rey gives her a look that's altogether too self-aware, for a middle school student, but she just says, "Yeah, okay. Can Rose come?” 

Jyn shrugs. "Free country."

"Sweet."

"Let me know how it goes," says Jyn, as Rey darts off.

In the hallway, Finn's watching her with that weird look again, like he's trying to put together a jigsaw with only half the pieces.

The Cantina's kind of a shithole, if she's being honest about it. Not as much of a shithole as other places she's worked in her life--this, for sure, has nothing on the Wobani pub up in Maine--but it's still kind of a shithole, and the people who work there are only granted human status nominally in the eyes of everything holy. Nobody ever slacks off, at least. Maz would have them out on their ass with their spleens crammed up their noses if anybody tried. It makes up for the sleazeballs at the bar who try to palm handfuls of her ass as she goes by.

One more time. She breathes deep, in and out through her nose. One more fucking time--

"Uh-oh." It's Lando, eyebrows arched. Jyn's never been able to decide whether she wants to punch Lando in the face or not. It bothers her sometimes. She ought to want to punch him in the face. "Scowl power at nuclear."

"Fuck off," she says, and in the kitchen, Chewie snorts.

"If it's table six again I can take it."

"I don't need your help," says Jyn. Maz is fluttering around somewhere in the back. Going over supplies, probably. She's not about to get fired for reaming out a customer, especially one that keeps whacking her ass, but she'd really rather not let Maz know what's going on, and Lando will rat her out the instant he thinks he can get away with it. "Go do assistant manager things."

"I'm doing assistant manager things," he says. "I'm making sure our servers aren't being harassed. That's an assistant manager thing."

Jyn rolls her eyes, and jams a plastic cup with far too much force against the soda fountain.

"Jyn, come on."

"It's fine." There's no crack in the cup. Good enough. She sets it on the tray. "I'll deal with it."

Lando puffs out his cheeks, his version of I think you're wrong but I don't want a broken nose. "If you say so. I'm just saying. Intimidation is an option if you want it."

"That I can do all by myself," she says. "Considering your track record."

"That was one time."

"A toddler," says Jyn, and walks off while Lando makes kettle noises.

"You break anything, Erso, you're paying for it!"

She flips him off behind her back.

The Cantina's a place where people pass through, and tonight isn't much different. It's not exactly the kind of place that attracts people from the Hill or any surrounding newspapers. She's pretty sure she served bad bourbon to Jason Chaffitz in disguise once, but that's just something that happens in DC: you never know who you're going to run into that you might see on the telly the next day. Tonight it's fairly quiet: a few businessmen at the back, in one of the booths, making a deal to do with their air traffic control programs or whatever it is Lando keeps blatantly eavesdropping on; a handful of families who went out to the Smithsonian circuit, judging by their new T-shirts; a few locals; the gaggle of Howard Uni students who use the corner table to practice their Spanish conversation and usually bamboozle her with slang she'd be better off not knowing the meaning of. (The last person who openly hit on her, instead of just goosing her ass, wound up with a broken nose and filed a suit against the Cantina. As pissed off as she gets sometimes, she'd rather not have to have Maz settle out of court again because of her bullshit.)

All in all, it's definitely not the worst job she's ever had. In conjunction with what she makes from Mara, repairing cars and motorbikes for men who'd rather pretend a manly man does all the greasy work on their engine instead of a bird with too many scars and a stupid tattoo on her hip of a star, she makes enough. Maybe not quite enough to let Rey and Finn do as much as they want, but enough to keep them all comfortable. It's enough for her.

What do you want to do?

She shakes it out of her head, and snaps back over to table six to glare threateningly with a long knife in her hand. Better to head the bastard off at the pass early, before he decides copping a feel is a little less interesting than trying to pin her at the end of her shift.

The three year old at table thirteen has tossed a handful of salsa at her blouse and she's trying to mop herself up while simultaneously refilling three water glasses when the bell chimes, and Rey's chatter filters in through the rain. She's in infodump mode--about Prey, from what Jyn can tell, she's talking about aliens and weapons mods and that's usually Prey mode--but the girl next to her, a small southeast Asian girl with big eyes and closely bobbed hair, is listening very hard, which is better than anything that Jyn could have imagined. "Excuse me," says Jyn to table thirteen, and then shoves her tray of water glasses into Aphra's hands without a word, beelining for the door.

"Hi," she says, and Rose Tico's eyes about bulge out of her head. Jyn is not about to imagine what she looks like. "You're wet."

Rey shakes her head like a labrador. Water spatters Jyn's service apron. "It's raining."

"I can tell." She sucks her teeth. "Who's your friend?"

Rey blinks a few times, and then it rushes back to her, the social thing. She straightens up a little. "Mom, this is Rose. Rose, this is my mom."

Jyn bares her teeth. "Rey."

"She doesn't like being called Mom," says Rey, and bares her teeth back. "So she's Jyn."

Rose looks about ready to faint, but she steels herself, and says, "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Erso."

"Fuck," says Jyn, "that's worse. Both of you go sit in the back before I vomit."

"She's fine," says Rey, happily. "Cheers, Mom."

"I'm going to dump you off a cliff," says Jyn, "and I'm not going to tell anyone where to look."

Rose's big eyes get even bigger when she takes in Jyn's stained shirt. "Oh."

"Go sit, you yokel, I'll bring you something." Jyn can't help it. She scruffs her hand through Rey's sopping hair, pushing it back out of her eyes. "And a towel. Maz will skin you if you ruin her seats."

"I can't ruin vinyl, that's the whole point of vinyl in a café. Nobody can ruin vinyl with liquid things. Unless it's acid, I suppose." Rey frowns at the salsa stain on Jyn's shirt. "You didn't have that this morning, did you?"

"You think Finn would have let me out of the house if I had?" Finn's as scrupulous about laundry as he is about cooking. One of his old families used to make him do most of the chores. Now he just says it relaxes him. She hasn't pushed the issue, yet. "Go sit."

"Mr. A should be in in a minute," says Rey, and then darts off before Jyn can do more than blink. Rose looks between Rey and Jyn, somewhat bemused, before trailing Rey into the corner. Jyn opens her mouth, and then shuts it again before Lando notices.

You're fucking kidding me.

The door opens. The bell chimes.

Fuck!

She wipes her face clean. She can do that. She knows how to do that. She's known how to do that since she was a child. Jyn breathes, in and out through her nose, and then turns to face him. His hair is wet (though not as soaked as Rey's; Rey had probably been prancing about in the thunderstorm the way she usually did, daring lightning to come after her) and the fabric of his coat is damp about the shoulders, but it's the hesitation that makes her want to spit. He's eyeing her like a cat about to scratch.

"Hi," he says, finally.

Jyn, refusing to be intimidated, says, "Hi."

Cassian awkwardly stands there for a second or two. He says, "I wanted to make sure Rey and Rose made it here all right."

Rey. Rose, too, but more Rey. Don’t make it uncomfortable for Rey. Jyn nods, and pretends that he hasn't noticed the salsa stain on her shirt. She bites the inside of her cheek hard to keep her expression from shifting. He's not supposed to be here. There's a thin, high voice in the back of her head, one that sounds remarkably like a child. He's not supposed to be here. Not without warning.

She shoves the voice into a box, and locks it.

"I don't mean to intrude," says Cassian. He's interpreted her face right, then. Kindly fuck off, Andor. "I didn’t know this was where you worked. Rey didn’t--I'll go."

He's halfway through turning on his heel when Jyn thinks better of it, and rubs at the bridge of her nose. "Rey will be disappointed," she says, and doesn't look at him when he snaps a look at her. "She's sitting at the back with Rose. I'll get you a towel."

"You don't have to," says Cassian, but it trails off in a rather pathetic sort of way as she slams through the swinging doors to the kitchen, and ducks down to get more water glasses.

"Well." Lando leans over the counter, smirking at her a little. "He's cute."

"Fuck off, Lando."

"Ouch. She bites again." Lando lifts his hands. "Don't mean to intrude, Jyn, sorry. Just never figured you for the tall, dark, and accented type."

She's definitely going to hit him. Possibly in the next three seconds. "Fuck. Off."

"Fucking off," says Lando, and swans away whistling, hands in his pockets like he's just scored big in some gambling ring. Scratch hitting him. She's going to take the baseball bat Chewie keeps under the counter, and she's going to use it on the windscreen of his car. Jyn fills three glasses with water, snags a handful of dishrags out from beneath the drink fountain, and hipchecks her way back out onto the floor again, ignoring Aphra hissing "you owe me, Erso," on her way in.

Rey is still talking. She's also stimming, hands flapping back and forth in her happy stim, the one that means I'm excited and I'm going to be talking ten thousand kilometers a minute about this for the next five years. Jyn slows, and watches, for the three seconds she can grab. Rose is still just listening, nodding very seriously as if Rey's imparting the secrets of the universe. Cassian doesn't seem to have noticed, really. He's staring at the menu, and then at the ceiling, and then at the wall, in a show of discomfort she wouldn’t have expected of him. Not after the PTC.

Still. He is in unfamiliar territory.

Something strikingly close to pity swells up her throat. Jyn strangles it with her bare hands.

"Right," she says, and puts the waters down, dumping the whole handful of towels on Rey's head. Rey stops flapping, but to laugh, not to flinch. "Report."

"The museum was good." Rey disappears under one of the towels, and Rose, after darting another shy, confused look at Jyn, filches one for herself. Jyn refuses to watch what Cassian does. "The United States is bollocks."

"You're an American citizen," says Jyn. "Same as me."

"Not originally," Rey says, muffled. "We don't know what I was originally."

"Yes, you suitcase baby. Mysterious sprog, you."

Rose's eyes get very big.

"I was found in an airport when I was six," says Rey, very matter-of-factly. Out of the corner of her eye, Jyn sees Cassian still. "I don't remember anything before then. I think my birth parents must have left me there. They said they'd come back and get me, but they never did."

Rose's hands curl up into fists on the table. With surprising force, she says, "That's horrible."

Rey blinks at her a few times. "You're mad. I'm sorry."

"I'm not mad at you." 

"Oh." She darts a look at Jyn. It's only after Jyn nods that Rey says, "Okay. Cool."

Rose clenches her fists hard enough to look painful, and then rams right up against Rey's side to peer at the menu on the table. Jyn could cry. Thank fuck. Thank fuck. Thank fuck. It's working. She's not entirely sure Rey's even realized, but it's working. She might have a friend now. Other than Finn. Someone else she can lean on. Thank fuck.

Cassian's still watching her. Jyn can't help it. She catches his eye, and nods once.

He looks at the table instead.

"Museum," says Jyn, and taps at Rey's shoulder. "Good?"

"Horrible," says Rose, not Rey. "People are horrible. But interesting."

"That was the point," says Cassian, without inflection. "History isn't pretty. But it can show us patterns."

"Yeah, you said." Rey looks up at Jyn, and then peeps at Cassian, back and forth. “Mr. A knew more about the exhibits than the museum proctor did. He kept explaining things.”

“Really,” says Jyn, and tries not to feel uncomfortable. “It’s good that he’s teaching you, then.”

“If we go to the Museum of the American Indian for a field trip, you should come.” Rey looks completely blasé, but there’s a hint of—something. Not quite the cunning Finn has, the willingness to sneak. Rey looks schemey. Christ, not both of them. Tell me Rey hasn’t noticed the oddness, too. “You could help.”

“I don’t know if I can get the day off anytime soon.” She refuses to look at Cassian. “I’m going back to the kitchen, for a minute. I’ll be back.”

“’kay.”

She has no shame left, apparently. She bolts.

Jyn’s halfway to the kitchen doors and halfway to freedom when she hears the footsteps behind her. Aphra’s peering at her through the gap in the doors, and she’s laughing, a little, the way she always does when someone else is in for a hell of a lot of shit. “Jyn,” Cassian says, “wait a second,” and she’s not so much of a coward that she can ignore that. Not when it might come down to a fight. She slows, and then stops, and wishes that her shirt weren’t ruined. She wishes that she could run. He looks tired, all of a sudden, and lost, even if it’s just in hints—the lines around his mouth, the hidden tension in his shoulders when he puts them back. Like a soldier, she thinks. Regimented to keep the fear at bay.

“What,” she says, when he stands there watching her for too long. Cassian’s shoulders hitch, just a little. His hands fall loose at his sides.

“I wasn’t planning on organizing the class museum trip for at least another six months,” he says. He’s all clipped, now. “You don’t have to worry. If we need a volunteer, one of the other parents can do it.”

She jerks her chin up, and wipes her hands absently on the apron she has to wear. She can’t remember how they wound up so damp. Words fly out of her head. “Right.”

He hesitates. She can see it in his hands, more than anything. His fingers curl, and uncurl. “I’ll make an excuse to Rey,” he says. “I won’t make you uncomfortable.”

For some reason that, more than anything, is what snags on her temper. Jyn breathes, deep, in and out through her nose, but her control’s already shattered. She snaps, “For fuck’s sake,” and the family that had been sitting at table thirteen, halfway out the door, all yip in unison. Cassian blinks once. “This is stupid.”

“What is?” he says, but his voice is too tight to quite be calm.

“This.” She glances over his shoulder, but Rey hasn’t noticed. She’s still chattering with Rose Tico. “This—stupid dancing thing. It’s stupid.”

Something flickers in his face. She thinks it might be his temper. “I wasn’t going to mention it.”

“You can’t teach my kids if you’re always going to act like I’m about to explode,” says Jyn. “This doesn’t work if we keep doing this.”

“Keep doing what?”

She gestures, pointlessly, at the air between them. “Whatever the fuck this is.”

Cassian’s mouth goes tight. He looks back at Rey, now, too, faster, more subtle. She’d barely notice if not for the fact that he turns away from her to do it. He says, “I wasn’t aware there was an issue.”

“Jesus Christ, Cassian, you’re not stupid.”

Cassian blinks again. It’s different, somehow. Like shock, instead of evaluation. She’s not sure where the difference lies. Maybe in the speed. He swallows, barely visible.

“Look,” says Jyn. She roots herself to the ground, and thinks of Saw, of Steela’s photograph on the mantle. “My kids like you. That--they trust you. They don’t trust a lot of people. I’m not going to fuck up one of the best teachers they’ve ever had because of something that happened years ago.”

There’s another flicker, then, in his mouth. Cassian puts his hands behind his back. “I see.”

“They’re not stupid. They’ll notice something’s up, if they haven’t already. If this—” she jams a fist into the empty space, again “—keeps happening. So it can’t. Anymore. Otherwise they’ll work something out, and even if they’re wrong, it’ll just keep making things worse until we can’t do a damn thing for them, no matter what we want.”

He weighs that, carefully. Cassian looks at her, unblinking.

“Truce, then,” he says, in an odd voice.

He holds out his hand.

Jyn looks at it, at his long fingers and the skin of his palm. She looks up at him, too, and sees a question there she’s not sure she can answer. Still, she reaches out, and takes it, as firm a handshake as she’s ever given in her life. Twice, up and down, and then he lets go first, shoving his hand back into his pocket and watching her like she’s a Rubik’s cube. Like she’s a puzzle to be turned and contorted until it makes sense.

She turns.

“You’re a good mother,” Cassian says. He blurts it, almost. “They love you very much.”

Jyn jerks her shoulder in an acknowledgment, and vanishes into the kitchen. She can’t find the daring to look him in the face. Not after that.

[cdc1345711]

Cartoon-Force Scene-Blast To The Past

(The GSD got word that an amateur super villains were building some sort of machine and dispatched Agents Savage and Walker along with Charles and a few of his Cartoon-Enforcers to apprehend him)

Charles:Okay-the whack-a-douches are in that building,Ed,Jar Jar,you two are with me,Jack and Cynthia-BD,004,Ozzy,shield all entrances,Jerome you,Patrick,Chestnut and Horace go to the opposite side of him surrounding him,we can’t let him be able to use his new do-dad,okay let’s go”

Jack:(After Charles is done talking)Tell me Coburn when did you become leader of this mission?”

Charles:My team,my orders Hare boy”

(They enter their Positions,while about to ambush him)

Cynthia:Shhhh-I think he’s saying something”

Voltar:(Monologing his plans-a villain cliche really?) Soon the League Of Super Evil will be known as the greatest villains ever in any time line-That is as soon as you get it started Frogg”

Dr.Frogg:I’m working as fast as I can Voltar-making a perfect time machine isn’t as easy as cartoon,tv,movies or videogames make them out to be”

Voltar:Whatever-just get it working,Red Menace you and Doomageddon check the perimeter”

Red Menace:Alright Voltar-Come Doomageddon good buddy(Doomageddon just gives an annoyed face)”

Charles:(Knowing who they are)Oh Lord not these losers”

Jack:I take it you know this lot?”

Charles:They’re the ‘League Of Super Evil’ or L.O.S.E if you want it short-wannabe villains who try to be # 1 but are shit at it”

Jack:Well these ‘Wannabe Shit Villains’ are making a time machine-if it works-”

Charles:Which I doubt it will-”

Jack:IF it works-they could overthrow a simpler time with no advance technology,making them kings”

Charles:Huh,those annoying bastards actually thought of a good plan”

Cynthia:But how did they acquire the money for parts?”

Jack:They probably robbed a bank”

Charles:However they got it we need to stop them”

(Outside-Red Menace and Doomageddon are on guard duty until Black Dynamite shows up,and gives Doomageddon a bone)

BD:(Petting his belly)Good boy good boy”

Red Menace:(Hears the noise)Whose-(sees BD)Oh hey Black Dynamite”

Black Dynamite:Hey Red(Red Menace gets knocked in the back of his head by 004)”

Red Menace:(Weakly says)And hey Albert(goes to sleep)-”

(Inside)

Dr.Frogg:Now the machine is ready Voltar”

Voltar:Finally-let’s claim our rightful place as-”

Charles:-The world’s biggest tools(he says making fun of them as his team surrounds them)-Hey Voltar,now give up”

Voltar:What?? Oh come on Charles,why can’t you guys just let us have this one victory?”

Charles:Well sorry V it’s my new job plus my wife is making fried chicken and potato wedges for Dinner and I plan to be home early for once-so please just surrender”

Dr.Frogg:(Knowing they’re beaten raises his arms up)Okay I give up”

Voltar:(Not wanting to give up for once)NOOOOOOOO-I am too close to glory(Activates the machine and sees it suck everything in it)”

Dr.Frogg:(Going Ballistic)VOLTAR ARE YOU CRAZY-I didn’t add in any specific coordinates-”

Voltar:I don’t care(grabs a too heavy for him to carry blaster and jumps into the portal)I will be a king(jumps in the portal)”

Jack:(Getting sucked into the portal)Help it’s sucking me in-”

Cynthia:(Grabbing his paw)I got you Savage”

Jerome:And we got you Walker(He and Patrick hold onto Cynthia while she holds onto Jack)”

Patrick:Uh guys-we’re still getting pulled in(slowly gets pulled in until he trips on a rock flinging them into the portal)”

Jack,Cynthia,Jerome,Patrick:AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaah(he portal shuts down)”

Charles:NOOOOOO:(Grabs Frogg’s collar)Where did it send them?”

Dr.Frogg:I think you mean ‘when’ did it send-gak(Charles grabs his collar tighter)”

Charles:Not in the mood Frogg”

Dr.Frogg:If I’m reading the controls correctly It seems Voltar and your friends have been transported to-(reads the screen)1988?”

Charles:(Face going blank as he said 1988)Well.........Fuck me(smacks his hand on his face)”

(Jack,Cynthia,Patrick and Jerome are transported to 1988)

Jack:Oh God where are we?”

Patrick:I think you mean ‘when’ are we”

Jack:Not now Star”

Jerome:Well the setting does look(Sees tacky clothes,parachute pants,teens carrying oversized boomboxes over their shoulders and....mullets!!!!)oh shit-”

Cynthia:What is it Jerome?”

Jerome:We’re in the 1980′s(reads a newspaper)correction July 17 1988-hey ‘Die Hard’ made the highest grossed movie in theaters”

Cynthia:1988-this was long before me or Jack were born”

Jack:How would Voltar rule this time line-granted the technology isn’t advanced but still-”

Jerome:No clue but we got to-”

Thug 1:Well well well-what do we have here?”

Thug 2:A couple uh tourists bud”

Thug 3:Well if they’s knews what’s good for thems they give us their money(sees Cynthia)or the pretty lady’s number hachacha”

Cynthia:Why you-”

Man in a hoodie:Why don’t you goombas leave the nice people alone”

Thug 1:Dis don’t concerns yous yuh mook-now beats it befo we gets(Hoodie man punches the 1st thug in the face)”

Thug 2:Joey”

Thug 3:Yous done it now joik(jerk)”

(The thugs attack the hooded man but he quickly dis arms the guys breaking their arms,legs and stomps on their....’delicates’)

Thug 2:Man(covering his middle region)this is bogus”

Thug 1:Let’s get outta heres befo the cops shows up”

(The thugs leave and the hooded man looks at the gang)

Hooded man:You folks okay?”

Jack:We are,thanks for the help but we could’ve handled ourselves-I’m Jack Savage,This is Cynthia Walker,Patrick Star and Jerome”

Hooded Man:You two aren’t Patrick Star and Jerome-for one the Pat I know has not beard and Jerome ain’t that old”

Jerome:And how would you know that? who are you”

Hooded man:Who am I?”

(Removes his hood to reveal himself to be....)

Charles:Charles David Coburn the first”

(Everyone looks at the young Charles in shock-especially Jack and Cynthia because they have never seen Charles with clean non spiked hair or a mustache not a beard)

Jack:Charles??Is that really you?”

Charles:???........Have we met before?”

Jack:Yes-I mean not yet but we will-you just..............look so different like from when we know you”

Charles:When?-Oh you must be time travelers like in that Terminator movie-God love that movie-That would explain Commando Patrick and Old Dog Jerome-I’d ask more about future me but the whole ‘knowing the future will destroy it’ junk won’t let you so I won’t-follow me I’ll show you to my base”

(They follow him and in the shadows Voltar hides)

Voltar:so this is 1988-Yeah this will be perfect”

THE END-till part 2 comes along

[misspandalily]

update - PIVOT!

AO3 | FFN

Chapter 4: the one with the uchihas

Rock Lee makes a daily habit of "walking" up the seven flights of stairs to Neji's apartment every morning, several times, before he knocks on Neji's door and invites himself in. By that time, Neji is usually awake and disdainfully staring down at him with a cappuccino in one hand and a grumbling Naruto's t-shirt in the other.

He isn't a morning person, which is why Lee always insists that they handstand up the flights together instead of sleeping in and being passive every morning. Of course, that is when Tenten wakes up and throws a bag of trash at them for being too loud and Naruto pulls him inside for the sake of placating their neighbour.

When asked why exactly Lee consistently strives for physical prowess, he answers that as an aspiring-gym owner and a martial arts instructor, peak physical condition is a definite must if he wants to set an example for his youthful pupils. He loves what he does. Lee loves to train, to feel the adrenaline rushing through his system, to feel himself improving and coping more effectively with the extreme training he and Gai do everyday. He also loves showing up to class every Wednesday and Sunday afternoons to transfer his exuberance to the five disciples who still feel enough flames to show up and train.

They're his little chickens, complete with green jumpsuits and orange leg and arm warmers, and never complain about the cramped, rented space they currently have for lessons. He almost cries from happiness every time they reassure him and tell them how proud they are of their sensei. He's a sensei now.

"How're your lessons coming along, Lee?" Tenten, much friendlier now that her eye-bags have mysteriously disappeared, pours him a cup of his favourite Ten-tea, and beams at him when he tells her about the recent development with him and his students. He doesn't witness Tenten hurling a porcelain tea-cup at Neji, who's rolling his eyes and catching it swiftly, and laments over the upcoming rent for his apartment and the rented lesson space. By nature, he despises concerning himself with financial matters and anything overtly-commercial. Lee prefers to live life to the fullest and enjoy the luxuries afforded to him by kindness and friendship, but sometimes...

"You'll figure it out," Naruto interjects, having woken up from his shower, and ventures over to Tenten's fridge, "You're Rock Lee - you can do anything."

"I can!" Lee agrees vehemently, "But should I start charging my students now?"

"Now?" Neji joins in, shocked, "Now? It's been a whole year - why haven't you been charging them?"

Lee shrinks sheepishly, explaining that he'd rather them learn out of love for martial arts than obligation. Neji whacks the back of Lee's head with a newspaper.

"Fool. If they pay for your lessons, then they'll feel more determined to train harder to make their parents' money worth their time."

"Well, when you put it that way," Lee sits back, rubbing his shiny bowl cut thoughtfully, "That's a good point."

Neji shrugs. "Just make sure you get your finances on track."

"I will! But I have another question." Still balancing on two hands, Lee turns towards Tenten, who gestures for him to proceed, "How was your date?" Immediately, her countenance sours and Lee wonders how Neji manages to find the courage to calm down Tenten every time she's even remotely irate (which is rare, thus earning Tenten the coveted title of Youthful Spring Blossom).

"Just fine," she stabs at a piece of toast and lets the crumbs tumble down to the ground, in front of Lee's face. The room is silent. Tenten sneers and turns towards them. "Is 'I haven't been able to perform for two years because of my divorce' a pick-up line?"

Straight off the bat, Naruto asserts, "Oldest one in the book." He receives a sorrowful look from Tenten, who turns her gaze around again.

"How dishonourable of him," Lee gets back to his feet and gives Tenten a comforting pat on her shoulder. "Doesn't he know that you can dissect him into five million cubes in mere seconds?"

She gives him a watery smile and laughs. "I broke his watch and saw him cry like a baby."

"Atta girl," Neji says with a smirk, "And speaking of babies - I hear Sasuke has one now."

"Really?" Lee and Naruto scream in unison.

"Yup," Tenten's beam practically lights up the kitchen, "I'm going to be an aunt!"

"He didn't tell me shit!"

"Where were you when he was showing us the sonogram yesterday night?"

Naruto scratches his head, a look of dawning realisation popping up. "I thought it was a potato."

"Anyway," Tenten interrupts them as she puts on her coat, "We're heading to work, maybe seeing my precious baby later on. Don't wait up."

Neji joins her and closes the door behind them. "Lock up, Naruto."

Naruto runs to the door and makes sure the sounds of retreating footsteps are indistinguishable before he swears loudly at the door and blows a raspberry. Lee shakes his head. "How very un-youthful."

It's rare that Tenten finds herself graced by the presence of someone she knows at the restaurant.

Usually, her friends steer clear of each other's workplaces - they see each other often enough at Ichiraku's and at her apartment, after all.

But on some occasions, she knows she's cooking for Neji when a take-away order of pickled herrings topped with sesame seeds pops up on the screen, which is when she also knows she's getting picked up from her shift in his BMW. She knows Lee or Naruto are present when there's an uproar in the dining area and a sudden influx of meat is hurried out to a table, along with a few curses thrown about by the wait staff. Alternatively, and on much rarer days, her female co-workers mysteriously vanish and coo over someone who she knows is her broody brother.

Today is different in many ways, yet similar.

She's granted a half-hour break during peak hour for one, as tonight is slower than normal, so for the first time in months Tenten allows herself to settle into a chair (near the kitchen) and savour the grilled meat that she spends most days cooking. And during this half-hour break, she's greeted by a dark figure pushing out the chair across from her and ordering the same dish from Moegi, who's working part-time as a waitress.

The girl practically runs off, beet-red, and squeals with the other waitresses when she reaches the kitchen. Tenten chuckles at her brother.

"You really know how to make an entrance," she wolfs down more of her rice and stuffs a lettuce leaf into her mouth.

"Hm," he sips at his tea and smiles at her kindly. "It's good to see you again."

"Oh, please," she waves her hand in the air, feigning apathy, "You only disappear for fifty years at a time. It's not like I miss you - or Sasuke, for that matter."

"I suppose I am rather absent these days." Itachi smiles at a grumbling Udon, who's no doubt being cursed by a crowd of girls from behind the door. "Thank you. How have you been?"

Tenten shrugs. "So and so. Still cooking, still going to conventions. None have topped last year's Cleaver Show yet - I'm pretty disappointed."

"In due time," he nods in understanding, "I quite enjoyed the one you took me to. '00 Stainless Steel?"

"The birth of my passion. I don't think I would've ditched business for cooking if you hadn't agreed to drive me there."

"You did threaten me with a shuriken."

"It was plastic."

"I know," Itachi starts to elegantly chew at his meat in a way that makes her look completely barbaric. The Uchiha siblings, however, are notorious for being able to devour Mikoto Uchiha's mass production-esque meals at the dinner table, although Tenten gained more sideways while her brothers gained size vertically, so he finishes within ten minutes and orders another bowl. "How's Sasuke doing these days?"

"When did you arrive?" She points her chopsticks at him accusatorily, "That you haven't even talked to Sasuke yet."

"This afternoon. I was planning on meeting him tomorrow morning at the Museum - more opportune for the both of us."

"Does he know?"

"You know me." Tenten takes that as a negative and grins.

"You're in for a treat then."

"I heard the divorce was finalised." At her raised eyebrows, he continued, "Mum and Dad were sobbing to me over the phone about it - they want grandchildren before Dad turns sixty."

"They, or her?"

"They," he emphasises the word with a pointed glance, "And you should really get on that too - they can't just bug us brothers forever, you know."

"I had a date yesterday," she replies defensively. Itachi stares at her for a solid minute. She hears cars move around in the restaurant's parking lot.

"Did you lacerate him?"

"His watch."

"You're getting soft."

She opens her mouth to retort, and then the doorbell chimes as a new customer walks in with the lapels of their black coat upturned. Tenten signals for Moegi to greet the man, then realises it's Neji walking in with a cup of green tea. The momentary pause in her speech is enough for Itachi to turn around slightly.

Neji, bless his soul, has never met the wandering wolf of the Uchiha Family, precisely because he's never around when Itachi deigns to show up, so his eyes immediately narrow and silently ask if she needs him to do anything - something along the scale of interruption to homicide (it depends on their mood, really). She shakes her head.

"Neji! You just get off work?" He turns down his collar and allows his hair to breathe.

"Unfortunately, the boss was feeling particular today." He's in a salty, wine mood, which Tenten is totally amenable to on normal days, but-

"Tenten?" Itachi leans forward and rests his chin on the fold of his hands, the way Sasuke does it when he's feeling frustrated or in the mood for some scrutinising. "What's your name?"

"Neji Hyuga."

"Interesting," Itachi unclasps his fingers and leans back in his chair, fixing a strange look on him. "Have a seat, Neji."

Neji silently lowers himself into the chair beside them.

She chooses this moment to extract herself from the situation. "Well, would you look at the time. I have to work - see you at the dinner tomorrow?"

Itachi smiles warmly. "I'll see you tomorrow."

When she comes back from her escape into the kitchen, her apron is gone, her hair is still locked up in a sweatier rendition of her twin buns, and she wants to collapse. Neji's still sitting in the same position, silent and contemplative.

"Hey," she jolts him out of his thoughts, because as much as Neji likes to have his thinking time, it'Lees midnight and she just wants to go home. "You ready?"

"Of course," he shrugs his coat on and grabs his cup from the table. "Tired?"

"Always," she practically whines and exaggerates a few back stretches, "One of these days, I'm going to be reborn as a goddess. Tenten, Goddess of Cooking."

"Lee's adamant that you're the embodiment of the Springtime of Youth."

Tenten makes a tsk-ing sound and thumps his chest. Neji holds his hand over the left side of his chest, glaring at her in annoyance. "That could be anybody - Lee thinks Gai is the Springtime of Youth."

"Didn't you train with them for a solid year?"

"Good times," she puffs out her cheeks and slowly exhales when smoke effuses from her mouth. "Hey, what happened with Itachi?"

Neji gives her a shrug and a brief look. "Nothing."

"I hate this," Sasuke enters Tenten's apartment with his customary scowl on his face and an eye-roll when he sees her and Itachi chatting amicably over the chicken.

"You're a ray of sunshine," Itachi pokes his forehead with a finger, reminiscent of his earlier - unwelcome surprise - visit that morning, and makes a sweeping gesture at the dining table. "Help set up; you're late."

"You're late," he sticks his tongue out childishly, which earns him a blank stare from his siblings.

"Good one."

"Shut up."

His coat meets the hook next to Tenten's door and exposes half of his stomach the exact moment Sakura emerges from her room. His mouth drops to the floor, because she's in leggings and a hoodie. Rich-girl Sakura is in leggings and hoodie. Rich-girl Sakura is putting her hair up into a messy bun and hollering at Tenten to spare her the leftovers if they have any from dinner. Rich-girl Sakura is greeting his older brother like he's an old, old friend, and Sasuke is effectively snapped out of his daze.

"Hi," he greets her. She perks up and smiles back, notices the state of his clothes, then blushes. His abs are by no means properly formed - divorce plus PhD equals almost no gym sessions. Sasuke pulls his shirt down, mortified.

"Have a great dinner guys - I'll be across the hall if you need me. Bye, Sasuke," she beams at the three of them and skips out with a tub of ice-cream under her arms. He glances up at his siblings and rolls his eyes when the beginnings of a smirk start to form on their lips.

"I'm impressed with her. She cut all her credit cards yesterday night, and now she's job-hunting by day."

"That's great," Itachi sets the plates on the table and checks his phone when it buzzes in his pocket. "That'll be them."

"Kami, help me," Tenten prays skyward and smooths down her dress. The only one who's not at risk of being prodded to death with critique and questions by their parents is Itachi, the Golden Child. Sasuke's fall from grace came when he divorced Temari, whom they adored, so he doubts telling them about her being a lesbian and having his child would make the delicate family situation any better.

Then again, Tenten's having it considerably worse off, with her job, her lack of marriage prospects and her being the 'only Uchiha in history who hasn't made a respectable name for herself'. The door knocks, Sasuke grimaces, and opens the door to find himself being thrown backwards by Mikoto Uchiha's embrace.

"My babies!" She pulls Tenten and Itachi over and snuggles the three of them in her arms. Fugaku spots the chicken on the table and drools. "You look so good, Tennie! Have you lost more weight?"

"A bit," Tenten manages to revive herself from the chokehold and ushers her mother into a seat, "I've been cooking lots, too."

"Aren't you ever going to make use of your degree?" Fugaku joins the matriarch at the table and gives her a stern glance. "You didn't spend all that money for nothing, you know."

"Father, Mother," Itachi interjects, situating himself next to Fugaku and beaming at them. "How have you been?"

Sasuke elbows Tenten into the seat next to Mikoto, which she pushes him for, and surrenders. Mikoto then happily loads food onto Sasuke's plate. "Eat up, Sasuke, you're looking so thin now! We've been fine, Itachi - do visit more?"

"Of course. My trips should be getting more infrequent now that the deal's been settled. I promise I'll make more time to visit you."

Fugaku nods at his eldest son, allowing a small upward flicks of his lip corners to appear.

"The food is gorgeous. Do you have a boyfriend yet, Tenten?" Mikoto reaches over to pour potatoes onto Tenten's plate.

"Uh, not exactly," she kicks Sasuke's shin under the table, "but Sasuke has some news for you."

Sasuke makes sure to scowl at her before responding to his parents' expectant stares. "I'm starting on my thesis."

He catches Itachi's eye-flicker of warning and cringes when his parents pour glasses of wine to celebrate. Tenten proceeds to send him a death-inducing side glance.

"And, also," Sasuke gulps, "You remember Temari?"

"Yes?" Fugaku replies, tone gruff.

"She's-She is. Uh. She's pregnant." The tension is palpable. Mikoto tears up from the news, a mixture of exuberant joy and pure sorrow radiating off her in waves, while Fugaku's jaw clenches. He does not like that jaw-clench. "And, she's also dating a woman named Shikamaru. We'll be raising the baby together."

His father's face purples. Mikoto breaks into minute sobs, then turns to Tenten with the same accusatory glare that they've all mastered. "And you knew this?"

[tsw-story]

Chapter 20 - Eyes from Afar

It had been a couple days since the group's picnic in Peru. Since then, things had become relaxing and quiet, though eerily so, as they knew that somewhere near lurked a threat of unknown origin. They hadn't heard from Lucy either. It was a time of impatient waiting for the most part, so in the mean time, Eldrian did what he usually did—wander about.

The boy made his way along one of the downtown streets. A cool, almost blinding layer of snow covered the land while a chill remained in the air, so he brought with him a coat and scarf to avoid becoming a wizard-cicle. He wondered how the rest of his friends were dealing with things. He was fully aware that in his short life he'd already experienced plenty of oddities, but for someone like Kevin, it could be overwhelming. All he could hope was that he'd adjust over time.

Eldrian wished to enjoy the day and pass some time, so he found an antique shop and stepped inside. The first thing he noticed was the welcoming warmth that greeted him upon entry. After that, the valuable knickknacks of all varieties up and down the shelves and tables, with only a few customers populating the room.

Behind the counter was an elderly man and he smiled as Eldrian entered, so the boy returned the gesture.

“Welcome,” the stranger said with surprising volume given his age. “If you need anything, just let me know. We have all sorts of curios, from geodes to insects to ancient carvings from civilizations that fell long ago.”

“That sounds fun. What's that thing?” Eldrian pointed at the counter.

Under the glass was a jagged bone, and it was beside a number of other strange objects from colourful rocks to tiny skulls.

“That was something used for voodoo a long time ago by the Mayans. Do you believe that?”

He reached beneath the glass, and handed the fragment of bone for Eldrian to look over. The wizard took the offer. It did seem authentic.

“I might. Anything's possible.”

“A relief to hear. People so rarely come to enjoy submerging themselves in another world. Whether it's true or not, it doesn't matter, because the fun is in the imagination. The fantasy. Does that make sense?”

“It does to me.”

He exhaled with a hint of sorrow. His gaze shifted to the right—to the only others in the room. It was a boy and girl both with short blonde hair, though the latter had her hair tired back into a ponytail. From what he could tell, they were similar enough to be twins, and likely close to Eldrian's age.

“Those are my grandchildren. They help me out when they're free, which is nice, but maybe this shop was a mistake. We make just barely enough to get by. There's simply not enough customers coming in.”

“Do you advertise at all?”

“Not really, no. I don't know enough about how to do that these days. I mean, I put an ad in the newspaper.”

“The what?”

Before any more could be said, the door opened again, and two men with thick sweaters made their way inside. The shopkeep seemed overjoyed to see more customers, and he greeted them almost immediately. Eldrian stepped aside.

“Welcome!”

The first thing that seemed off to Eldrian was the fact that one of the two strangers remained near the exit. It didn't take long for his suspicions to grant warrant. Both of them, almost in unison, pulled pistols from their sweater front pockets and aimed them in his direction. It wasn't only him. The two burglars threatened the twins and the elderly gentleman, and they practically screamed when they issued their commands.

“Get over by that table, and get on your knees. Now!”

Eldrian saw the faces around him grow as pale as the snow outside. He did as he was told, not wanting to cause further chaos, and he was soon kneeling beside the three others. The twins looked almost to tears.

“Take everything valuable you can find, and don't forget the register,” muttered the man by the door.

“I know what I'm doing,” said the other. “Just watch them. If they try anything, you know what to do.”

He nodded.

“Please,” begged the shopkeep. “Take anything. Just don't hurt my grandchildren.”

“Quiet!” barked the robber now rustling behind the counter.

Eldrian knew he had to do something.

Rising up in front of him was the jagged bone he had been investigating. He was confident it truly did not possess any magical powers, but with his own abilities, he caused it to levitate without a hint it was coming from him. Perhaps someone in adept magic eyes could have seen through this, but not a soul in the room possessed them but himself.

“What the hell?” cursed the thief. “Who's doing that? Stop doing that!”

“I-I'm not!” lied Eldrian. “This place is filled with curious objects. We need to get out of here. I think you're angering them.”

“Shut up,” he barked back, but quickly spun his eyes up around the top shelves near the ceiling.

Creepy dolls started to wiggle on their own (with a little help) as if they were possessed by angry spirits. A few fell off and rolled to a stop near the man's feet. He stumbled back and slammed his rear into the edge of the counter, but he had no time even to grunt in pain. It shot him with a small electrical shock, and he hopped forwards and away.

“It's one of you. It has to be... You, old man! It's you, isn't it? This is all a trick.”

The farther thief chimed in. “This is freaking me out, man. Let's just leave.”

“No!”

Suddenly, a shrunken head propelled itself from a nearby table, and slapped the burglar in the face. He practically screamed—somewhat like a girl—and began releasing his magazine in absolute terror. The gun, however, only clicked. It was jammed or something, because it wasn't shooting!

Little did he know but not only was Eldrian simply throwing small objects around with his mind, but he had melted the insides of their guns over time to completely ruin them and prevent them from firing.

“This is whack. I'm out of here!” shouted the thief by the door.

Though he was by the door no longer. He bolted through it and disappeared, leaving behind his enraged but shaken friend. It only took a moment before he joined him in escaping. In one final act of humiliation, Eldrian caused the man to trip on a barely visible string. He planted his face firmly on the sidewalk before fleeing for real.

Everything returned to normal even quicker than it began, as if nothing had occurred at all. All the four of them could hear was the shouting of the men as they hurried as far from the shop as possible.

“That shop is freaky!” came one voice.

“It's haunted!” came the other.

The noise of the escapees faded away. It left the group in a strange silence, and Eldrian knew all of them must have been stunned.

“I should get going,” whispered Eldrian. “Maybe this place really is haunted.”

The shopkeep looked flabbergasted. “I don't know what happened.”

“Maybe you believed in the fantasy just hard enough.”

“Thank you... I don't know what you did, but thank you.”

“I didn't do anything,” Eldrian spoke as he rose up with the rest.

Before he could react, the girl wrapped her arms around him and squeezed him incredibly tight. He thought for a moment he was going to die, though to be honest, he would have died happy in such a way.

She kissed him on the cheek. “I was so scared.”

“Uh. Well you know what they say about fear. It's better than being dead.”

“Wow. That's so deep~!”

“Yeah. Mm. Well, I should be going, like I said,” he uttered as he freed himself from the grapple.

“Feel free to come back any time,” the elder warmly stated.

“Of course. Good luck with the shop.”

He made his way outside, though barely so. Three young men passed through the door and into the store a split second after he departed. Eldrian decided to stick around for a moment longer, just to listen to what was happened—and to make sure there wasn't another robbery.

“A bunch of thugs just ran from this place. They said something about it being super freaky,” spoke one of them.

“Wow. This place is cool. I didn't even know about it!” Eldrian heard another speak.

The wizard seemed content. Things worked out after all. With hands kept toasty in his jacket pocket, he started searching for an alley to open a portal, just in case the chaos attracted unwanted hunters.

It didn't take long for him to be far from view. It smelled beside the dumpster, but there were no eyes on him here. At least, he didn't think there was. The sound of falling pebbles caused his attention to shift behind himself. The noise came from a handful of debris trickling down from the nearest rooftop, so he looked up, and all of this occurred in merely seconds.

The object he saw next was a shining ring of sharpened metal, but one small side looked to be a handle of sorts, so it was clearly a weapon. The disc of death would have hit him, he figured, if he didn't notice in time. Instead, the metal ground a spark against the stone wall next to his head, so his eyes widened to the size of watermelons.

In that slow moment of time, he saw a single eye marked into the center, which extended down into the handle edge of the circle. They weren't something he was used to. With the handle, they could clearly be wielded in a manner similar to a sword, but it flew through the air with ease as well.

“Dang it!” he heard a faint female voice utter.

It was instinct for him to raise up his hands and ready a warding barrier of magic, and thank goodness he did. A second disc slammed against the kinetic force he maintained in front of his body, like an expansive knight's shield blocking an enemy strike.

A figure touched down ten feet from him. It was so light, he barely heard it, and it was a girl he had never seen before. She had incredibly dark skin, but her hair was vibrant red and tied back. Her clothes stuck out as well. He couldn't recognize the style, but they seemed to come from another country's culture for certain—no blue jeans there.

The discs moved on their own the moment she landed, and they flew towards her for an easy snatch with both of her hands. She held them by the center and lowered herself down, as if she was taking a martial arts stance, though Eldrian truly had never seen her in his life.

To make things more difficult, the bottom half of her face was covered by a dark red cloth. Immediately he thought this was some kind of assassin sent after him. It definitely wasn't a spellbreaker, however, or he'd probably be dead.

Not only did both of her weapons share the same mark, but her actual eyes were completely off. Where he thought he'd see coloured irises, he saw black spirals, like something one would find in a cartoon.

“What the heck?” shouted Eldrian, terse.

The stranger didn't answer, at least not with words. Her response involved plenty more pain. With one hand she whipped the circular blade in Eldrian's direction, but luckily, he was able to dive to the side and out of the way. Immediately he realised it was a trick. The woman was immediately up to him with the other gripped as a melee strike. It slashed him across the outside of his left arm, causing a spray of blood to cover the alley wall. Eldrian cried out in pain as he squeezed one hand over the leaking flesh.

It didn't stop there, as the girl formed a combination attack of blows. Next, she thrusted forward her foot into his chest, and on contact, a burst of fire caught aflame his shirt. Eldrian fell to his back, bloody and burned, and let out a lengthy groan.

“You're a wizard,” he muttered.

She leapt into the air, and like a pouncing tiger, she brought down her one weapon to strike Eldrian directly in his chest. His eyes met her twisted, spinning glare, but the moment of impact was met with her metal slamming painfully against concrete.

The wizard teleported quickly, like the blink of an eye, through and behind the girl, and he floated there in midair for only a moment—enough to retaliate. His palm stretched out and nearly touched her back. Push.

A crushing blow of force came from his hand to shatter the alley beneath the girl. She coughed in pain as she was squished between his spell and the ground, but she pulled herself together and rolled to the side, and she stood once more.

She saw something next that she didn't expect. Eldrian had thrown a dagger in her direction.

“Take that!” Eldrian shouted.

The girl squinted her eyes, and like swatting a fly, she brought up her weapon to parry the weakly thrown strike to the side. Perhaps her magic eyes weren't powerful enough, or more likely, she was tricked into paying only a sliver of attention to the attack. Either way, it wasn't until the final moment that she noticed her mistake. The dagger was only an illusion. On contact, it showed its true form, which was a small bolt of electricity, and her weapon was metal.

A current surged up her arm and burst the weapon from her hands. Gripping her fingers, she knelt on one leg and growled under her heavy breaths.

By the time she looked back up, she only saw the last second of a door closing where there was none before, and said door vanished as if it never had been. Eldrian had escaped. Given the timing, she decided he won, as if he attacked in that moment, she may not have been able to stop it. But what happened was only a single battle—hardly even that. It was an introduction.

Her body ached, and still the spiralling shapes existed in place of her proper eyes. Something still shone through that was human. That was difficult, but she felt proud of herself. At least, enough to reward her self.

So, the girl reached into a woven bag at her side and began to dig around, and eventually pulled out a glazed donut. She then began to eat. It was very tasty.

***

“What do you mean you were attacked by an assassin today?” hollered Deena despite the two being merely a few feet apart.

“I didn't die at least,” Eldrian muttered.

“Look at you! Oh my god, you've barely bandaged yourself up. I can see your sleeve soaked in blood. Do you even know how to bandage yourself? You're going to die if you don't, you stupid boy. Come here. I'll wrap it up, this one time.”

He sat there on a chair in her bathroom as she applied medicine and bandages to the deep cut on his arm. It didn't sever anything crucial nor was it large, but it had been bleeding quite a bit. All he covered it with was a tied cloth until then.

“Thanks, Deena. Don't worry. I'll figure out what's going on.”

“You keep saying that, but here we are. The fact of the matter is that you put things into motion all the time it seems, but you need to realize that you've gathered strong personalities that aren't going to sit around. We'll figure out what's going on.”

“Right. I know. Wow. That's not something I expected you to say of all people.”

“Why?” she growled as she tied the bandage a little tighter than he wished.

“Ow. No reason. Seriously though. Thank you. I know people were freaked out by you at first, with your white hair and red eyes and all that, but I think it's awesome. And adorable. Your home makes a pretty handy safe house too!” He laughed.

Deena puffed out a cheek in detest. She looked up to him as she rummaged her medical supplies back into a box, and a tint of colour come to her face. A smile came as well, but it was brief, and Eldrian never did find out.