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#guess the good news is I haven’t atrophied TOO much
elongated-twink · 3 months
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Didnt realize how weak my core was until I did a single set on the ab machine on the second-lowest setting and I’m STILL super sore two days later
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servin-up-surveys · 2 years
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survey #048
(from yesterday, my b)
Do you drink more or less water than is recommended? Way, WAAAAAAY less. I drink practically none; I'm literally only alive because of the water in food, haha. Do you like taking walks? Sigh, I used to love walking. In my school years back when we lived in the woods, I would walk outside usually at night with my iPod for literally hours on end. I seriously worn down a path in my front yard at night, back yard during the day. Now just walking to the bathroom directly beside my room is incredibly painful because of muscle atrophy. Do you remember The Land Before Time movies? Who was your favourite character? Oh god, of course, I was OBSESSED. I even had a computer game based on it. Littlefoot was my favorite. It's even a possibility that I'll get a tree star tattoo in remembrance of my mom when she passes. Are you one of those people who texts back instantly? Usually, yes. Assuming money wasn’t an issue, what car would buy right now, given the chance? Ugh, I wish. Whatever Mom wants; I don't need my own car. It'd be a fucking dream come true if I could get a nice, new car for my mother. What she has now is hanging on by an actual goddamn thread. Do you think going to college/university is the best option after you’ve left school? This varies person-to-person. Do you buy your lingerie at Victoria’s Secret? No, that shit is way too overpriced. I don't know how big their undergarments go, either, but I highly doubt they reach my size. Do you have a large dog? We have literally the smallest breed of dog, haha. Mom's not a massive fan of small dogs, but Cookie just worked for us. Have you ever been to Europe? No, but I'm going to Germany one day. Do you like breaded chicken sandwiches? Love 'em. When was the last time you bitched someone out? Idr. I actually think the only time I truly did that was on this one occasion with my sister's fucking abusive ex-boyfriend. Maybe. "Bitched out" implies being aggressive and merciless to me and Dustin fucking got it, idk about anyone else. What does your ex look like? "The" ex is your average height for a guy I think, an olive sort of tan with his Italian blood, underweight (even though he could EAT this mf never gained a goddamn pound), brown eyes, thin black hair (though in some light it looked more dark brown) that was kinda long for a guy, and last I saw a picture of him, he had a full (but not necessarily long) beard and mustache. What is your heritage? German, Irish, and Polish. We don't know Dad's side, though, other than his last name being Irish. Is your best friend a virgin? No. For two million dollars, would you pose for Playboy? Ugh... that would be life-changing but I just really don't think I could. I hate my body so, so much. Would you accept a boring job if it meant you would make mega bucks? Probably not, because I'd be very depressed. My brain is very bad at confusing boredom for depression, so. Have you ever used your parents’ credit card before? Not without their express permission. Are you afraid of plane rides? Not especially. Turbulence can make my heart speed up for a bit, but I'm not terrified. Have you ever made a turkey dinner all by yourself? Hell no. Do you have a gay friend? Yep. How many sex partners have you had? Names? Well I didn't/haven't gone "all the way" with either of them, but I've had two sexual partners, Jason and Girt. I guess maybe Sara, but to be totally honest I'm not sure if I'd count her here. Nowhere near on the level of the other two. Do you ever feel like people get tired of you? Oh god yes. Are you good at hiding your feelings? Nope. I feel too strongly and am just too expressive of it at like all times. Would you rather sleep for 3 days, or stay awake for 3 days? Eugh... I guess stay awake for three days again, even though last time I did that it had a very negative affect on my body. My nightmares are just SO frequent nowadays that THREE STRAIGHT DAYS of sleeping with those going on... oh god kill me. Whose bedroom were you in last? Besides mine, Mom's. Are you watching TV? What’s on? No; I don't even have a TV in my room. Ever made out on a rooftop? Can't say I have. Would you date anyone you met online? Probably not again, but who knows. Have you ever made your parents cry? Mom, oh yes. Sadly. I THINK the night I called Dad and made up after the divorce, his voice was shaking/kinda choked, but I don't know if he was tearing up or anything. If the last person you kissed invited you to a family dinner, would you go? Of course. Is your hair longer than your shoulders? No. When’s the next time you’ll be drinking? I don't know, but I want to in a rare instance. Did you sleep alone the last two nights? Yeah; well, if you're only counting human company. My cat cuddles with me pretty much every night, haha. Are you dressing up as anything for Halloween? Idk. Most likely not. Have you met the last person you kissed’s parents? Mom, yes. Dad's dead. Who is the first person you see in the mornings? Mom, seeing as she's the only one I live with. Have you ever fallen asleep with the last person that kissed you? Yep. Are you one of those people who just don’t care? God no, I care too much. I mean, about most things. When is the next time you will kiss someone? I absolutely hate questions that assume I'm a psychic. But if things go the way I want them to, the moment Girt next steps through my doorway, whenever that'll be since he's kinda sick. Who was the last person you were in love with for more than a year? Jason. Do you have a secret life? I guess you could say that, as hardcore of a secret I keep me being an RPer ss. Who was the last person to call you baby? Girt. When shopping at the grocery store, do you return your cart? omg yes I FUCKING HATE when people leave their goddamn shopping carts randomly about the parking lot. I can barely walk and I'm not even that fucking lazy. If abandoned alone in the wilderness, would you survive? There's no way. If your house was on fire, what would be the first thing you would do? Is my mom out? If so, get Roman out, then Venus. I hate hate hate picking between them, like I want them both out IMMEDIATELY, but... Who was the last person you shared a bed with? Girt. Where was the furthest place you traveled? Illinois. Do you like mustard? Yes. Do you look like your mom or dad? I've heard both, idk. How long does it take you in the shower? Not even 10 minutes. Can you do splits? Hell no. Was your mom a cheerleader? Oh god I could NEVER picture her as one. I don't think she played any kind of sport growing up, but I could be wrong. Do you like Care Bears? I think they're cute, but that's the extent of it. Do you wear your seatbelt? Yes, WEAR YOUR GODDAMN SEATBELT. My own sister would be dead without one. Seatbelt burns ARE worth your fucking life. Anything big ever happen in your town? Maybe? I dunno. Nothing THAT big. Is your tongue pierced? Not anymore. :( It was damaging my teeth. Snake eyes were my favorite piercing I've ever had, though, they were SO cute. Ever been to L.A.? No. Whose house did you last spend the night at besides your own? Sara's. Have you ever seen somebody get shot? No, thank fucking god. Have you ever taken a picture in a bathroom mirror? Ha, yeah. Have you ever hated someone, but ended up being friends with them? Lmao hi, Rachel. Sara was once this situation too, but we're not friends now. What are you listening to right now? "Cowboy" by Lindemann. What’s worse: a headache or a stomach ache? STOMACH. I CANNOT handle stomach pain. Have you ever drank sweet tea? Did you like it? Living where I do, of course I've tried it, it's like, THE staple drink here, but I hate it to the point I refuse to drink it. Anybody ever tell you that “you could do so much better” about a person? I feel like someone mighta said this about Jason at some point... Have you ever kissed an ex after you two have broken up? No. When was the last time you talked to your most recent ex? Months ago. Ever kissed someone who smokes? No; someone who smokes kissed ME, but I went full statue. Do you prefer a window seat or an aisle seat? I STRONGLY prefer window. I've actually noticed that while taking off and getting the plane in position and all, I get fairly dizzy if I can't see outside/the surroundings. Do you ever wear boots with skinny jeans? UGH I used to love wearing my tall, leather black boots with them in high school, like that was THE LOOK, but I don't wear jeans anymore. Have you ever showered with someone? Only as a child. Are you racist to any race? Nope. What are/would you like to go to college for? I'm never going back to college. I dropped out three times; I can't afford to keep doing that. What kind of tea do you prefer? None. Have you ever intentionally hurt an animal? I've given like dogs a mild pop when misbehaving and shit, but nothing beyond that. I never would. Have you ever read all night long? I don't believe I have, actually, but maybe. Have you ever "done it" in a hotel room? No. Y'know, I've never even been to a hotel with an s/o. Have you ever peed in the woods? I'm quite certain no. I remember I really, really needed to once when fishing on the boat with my dad and sister, but I'm pretty sure I didn't/wasn't able. What’s your favorite love movie? The Notebook. Do you have any magazine subscriptions? No. Magazines have never been my thing. What kind of mom are you? Not one. Where are you ticklish? Like... everywhere. What hurts your feelings more than anything else? Probably calling me weak. Do you believe you’ve had a past life? No. Has a family member ever hit you? My mom has with the excuse of "spanking" when growing up. When you look back, do you think your life story will be a good one? Who fuckin' knows. Ever had any drug addictions? No. Do you have any anniversaries coming up? With Girt in less than a month, yeah. Who is the most shallow person you know? *shrug* What was your first intimate experience with a person? That woulda been with Jason in high school, but if I'm being completely honest, I can't really remember the first time we went beyond making out, oddly enough. Like I remember a lot, just... not the first. Did you ever play Frogger when you were a kid? BITCH I LOVED THAT GAME. I sucked at it except for the first level, but it sure was fun, haha. When were you at your lowest in your life so far? When my first real boyfriend Jason left me and I was in a constant state of literally wanting to die for over a year.
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miguenhasthoughts · 2 months
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05/09
The spring wind rubs along my bare legs. The scent of flowers carried on the breeze. Sun rays trickling down on the back of my neck. The blue sky invigorates the soul. The butterflies are fluttering unable to escape my mortal chest.
This week has been really affirming. Keeping my legs shaved feels so nice. My legs are so soft and I love showing them off. I’ve been keeping my nails painted. Being encouraged to try new make up and it feels good. Waiting on my mascara to show up is less so. Never realized how feminizing mascara can be alone. Now that we ran out I feel impatient to get back to experimenting. I feel more confident being myself out in public and I have been taking in more trans media to encourage me to be more honest and open with myself. My mom has been more curious and opening to learning what I’ve been feeling me and teaching me things about womanhood that I may not have known. It’s really sweet and makes me happy where I want to cry out of joy.
Sam has been feeling dysphoric about their gender and I feel so bad for them. They have a long road ahead of them. They finally have health insurance so getting the ball rolling for them is finally a possibility. I’m happy for them and I want to do everything in my power to make them feel good. Thats always been a priority for me. I love them so much and they deserve to be happy. They are such a good person.
I have two dates this week. It was my third date with May last night and my first date with J tonight. I’m kind of tired ngl. All the driving has been giving me a lot of experience so that’s been good for me at least lol May is so sweet. Our autism seems to be on the same wavelength. She is super supportive and loves to be creative and talking about every little thing that pops in her head. She talks a lot but I like that, I love listening and she is so interesting. We had sex for the first time. I was scared ngl. She was the first cis person I’ve slept with since I started my transition. She was super supportive through it all. Since my sex drive has been so low I haven’t pleasured myself in awhile and my girldick didn’t work this time around. I’m scared it may have started to atrophy. She made sure to reassure me she didn’t mind. She got to be a selfish brat because of it which was still fun. I need to talk to my doctor about this though because I still want my dick lol
We practically napped together after the session and I’m glad we were able to share an intimate moment. It was nice to be able to connect with someone socially, intimately and sexually. I can’t help to get butterflies. She is also quick to get butterflies too. We kind of teased each other about being quick to emotions lol
J has had a lot on their table. Their cat is sick. She’s overworked and she is taking on even more than she needs to. She has a good heart. I told her if she wanted to reschedule she shouldn’t feel bad about it. She invited me over instead so that’s interesting. I’ve never went to someone’s house for a first date. So I’m a little intimidated but they’ve only shown themselves as a saint so I feel like I should not worry. Honestly I think she’s looking for more hands to help with the cats and I love cats so here’s to new experiences lol
Anyways life has been good and I think recovering has been great. As far as the ED. I am eating some but it’s still pretty low. I’m trying to stuff my face but it is hard. I’m still hiding it from my loved ones. I’m afraid May also has a form of ED. I’m catching her doing similar habits and I don’t know if it will be healthy to date them if that’s the case but we will cross that bridge I guess. I lost forty pounds and yet I still feel like a fatass. I should talk to my therapist. I’m not delusional enough to delude myself that this is healthy.
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puckrph · 4 years
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HOZIER SENTENCE STARTERS
taken from hozier’s first album & his ep from eden. feel free to change pronouns, etc!
TAKE ME TO CHURCH
‘ you’re the giggle at a funeral. ’ ‘ i should’ve worshiped you sooner. ’ ‘ if the heavens ever did speak, you’re the last true mouthpiece. ’ ‘ the only heaven i’ll be sent to is when i’m alone with you. ’ ‘ i was born sick, but i love it. ’ ‘ i’ll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. ’ ‘ i’ll tell you my sins, and you can sharpen your knife. ’ ‘ let me give you my life. ’ ‘ if i’m a pagan of the good times, my lover’s the sunlight. ’ ‘ that looks tasty. ’ ‘ there is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin. ’
ANGEL OF SMALL DEATH & THE CODEINE SCENE
‘ we’re shaking the wings of our terrible youths. ’ ‘ i lurched like a stray to the arms that were open. ’ ‘ with your sweetened breath and your tongue so mean, you’re the angel of small death and the codeine scene. ’ ‘ i lay my heart down with the rest at your feet. ’ ‘ it’s bloody and raw, but i swear it is sweet. ’
JACKIE AND WILSON
‘ so tired trying to see from behind the red in my eyes. ’ ‘ you found me just in time. ’ ‘ i never felt young. ’ ‘ you’re gonna save me. ’ ‘ call me ‘baby,’ run your hands through my hair. ’ ‘ we’ll steal a lexus, be detectives, ride around picking up clues. ’ ‘ it’d be great to find a place we could escape to sometime. ’ ‘ i’m happy to lie back, watch it burn and rust. ’ ‘ i tried the world; good god, it wasn’t for me. ’
SOMEONE NEW
‘ you knew who i was with every step that i ran to you. ’ ‘ would things be easier if there was a right way? there is no right way. ’ ‘ i fall in love just a little bit every day with someone new. ’ ‘ there’s an art to life’s distraction. ’ ‘ some like to imagine the dark caress of someone else; i guess any thrill will do. ’
TO BE ALONE
‘ i never feel to good in crowds with folks around. ’ ‘ all i’ve ever done is hide. ’ ‘ when you kill the lights and kiss my eyes, i feel like a person for a moment of my life. ’ ‘ you don’t know what hell you put me through. ’ ‘ it feels good to be alone with you. ’ ‘ now at last the worst is over. ’ ‘ i know you hate this place. not a trace of me would argue. ’ ‘ we should run away. ’
FROM EDEN
‘ there’s something tragic about you. ’ ‘ there’s something so magic about you. ’ ‘ there’s something lonesome about you - something so wholesome about you. ’ ‘ get closer to me. ’ ‘ you’re familiar. ’ ‘ idealism sits in prison; chivalry fell on its sword. ’ ‘ innocence died screaming - ask me, i should know. ’ ‘ i slithered here from eden just to sit outside your door. ’ ‘ there’s something wretched about this. ’ ‘ there’s something so precious about this. ’ ‘ to the strand, a picnic planned for you and me - a rope in hand for your other man to hang from a tree. ’
IN A WEEK
‘ i have never known peace. ’ ‘ i have never known hunger like these insects that feast on me. ’ ‘ we’ll lay here for years or for hours - thrown here or found, to freeze or to thaw - so long we become the flowers. ’ ‘ they’d find us in a week. ’ ‘ i’d be home with you. ’ ‘ i have never known colours like this morning reveals to me. ’ ‘ you haven’t moved an inch; such that i would not know if you sleep always like this, the flesh calmly growing cold. ’
SEDATED
‘ just a little rush, babe, to feel dizzy, to derail the mind of me. ’ ‘ my veins are busy, but my heart’s in atrophy. ’ ‘ you and i, nursing on a poison that never stung - our teeth and lungs are lined with the scum of it. ’ ‘ free and young, and we can feel none of it. ’ ‘ i’m somewhere outside my life. i keep scratching, but somehow i can’t get in. ’ ‘ i’m a slave to any semblance of touch. ’ ‘ i should cool it, but i love it too much. ’ ‘ don’t you stand there watching, won’t you come and save me? ’ ‘ don’t you join in, you’re supposed to drag me away from it. ’
WORK SONG
‘ i’m so full of love, i could barely eat. ’ ‘ you give me toothaches just from kissing me. ’ ‘ when my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold dark earth. no grave will hold my body down; i’ll crawl home to you. ’ ‘ i didn’t care much how long i lived. ’ ‘ i swear, i thought i dreamed you. you never asked me once about the wrong i did. ’
LIKE REAL PEOPLE DO
‘ i had a thought about that night. ’ ‘ why were you digging? ’ ‘ what did you bury? ’ ‘ i will not ask you where you came from. ’ ‘ honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips. ’ ‘ we should just kiss like real people do. ’ ‘ i know that look: eyes always seeking. ’ ‘ i will not ask you why you were creeping. in some sad way i already know. ’
IT WILL COME BACK
‘ you know better. ’ ‘ don’t give me a hand. ’ ‘ don’t let me in with no intention to keep me - jesus crhist, don’t be kind to me. ’ ‘ you know better than to smile at me like that. ’ ‘ you know better than to hold me just like that. ’ ‘ i know who i am when i’m alone. i’m something else when i see you. ’ ‘ you don’t understand. you should never know how easy you are to need. ’ ‘ through the cold, i’ll find my way back to you. ’ ‘ give me mercy no more; that’s a kindness you can’t afford. ’
FOREIGNER’S GOD
‘ you move with shameless wonder. ’ ‘ my heart is heavy with the hate of some other man’s belief. ’ ‘ screaming the name of a foreigner’s god: the purest expression of grief. ’ ‘ i’ve no language left to say it, but all i do is quake to you. ’ ‘ all that i’ve been taught and every word i’ve got is foreign to me. ’
CHERRY WINE
 ‘ your eyes and words are so icy, but you burn like rum on a fire. ’ ‘ i walk my days on a wire. ’ ‘ don’t fuss over me. ’ ‘ the blood is rare, and sweet as cherry wine. ’ ‘ but i want it. ’ ‘ it’s a crime that you’re not around most of the time. ’ ‘ your fight and fury’s fiery. ’ ‘ you love like sleep to the freezing. ’ ‘ i’m all but washed in the tide of your breathing. ’ ‘ it’s worth it. ’ ‘ it’s divine that i have this some of the time. ’
IN THE WOODS SOMEWHERE
‘ i heard a scream in the woods somewhere. ’ ‘ what caused the wound? ’ ‘ i forgot all prayers of joining you. ’ ‘ my dearest love, i’m not done yet. ’ ‘ i found something. ’
RUN
‘ rare is this love. ’ ‘ i need you to run to me, lover. ’ ‘ i know what it is to grow beneath her sky. ’ ‘ you’re the cause of every tear i’d ever weep. ’
ARSONIST’S LULLABY
‘ when i was a child, i heard voices. ’ ‘ i heard voices. ’ ‘ you soon find you have few choices. ’ ‘ i can barely tear my eyes away. ’ ‘ all you have is your fire and the place you need to reach. ’ ‘ don’t ever tame your demons - but always keep them on a leash. ’ ‘ something will always rule me. ’ ‘ i thought it ended when i knew love’s perfect ache. ’ ‘ my peace has always depended on all the ashes in my wake. ’
MY LOVE WILL NEVER DIE
‘ you’ve done me wrong for a long, long time. ’ ‘ i never changed my mind. ’ ‘ please try to love me. ’ ‘ my love will never die. ’ ‘ flowers will grow where i’m laid to rest. pick a blossom and hold it to your breast.’
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mordigen · 3 years
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I had not written anything in a minute, as I typically use this as my sounding board, or soap box, if you will....but I guess things just hadn't gotten under my skin lately to make me feel the need to sound off. Which is a beautiful thing, I suppose, even if writing is lacking.
Indeed it has been quite....quiet, quite harmonious within the circles I frequent. Which is unusual, especially as we've had a couple Holidays, which usually stirs all the controversy. And I know with my last 3 part post I noted I had much more to talk about....but I've forgotten them all. So, they must not have been that important, eh?
It has been nice.
But (as there's always a but) in this quiet time I noticed something else - something I am certainly not unfamiliar with, but have never talked about, or confronted at all really.
I find myself feeling drawn away - and no, not in the depressive sense, as I am also certainly not unfamiliar with, but in a way that I have a hard time defining.
It is melancholy in the sense that it feels like a deep seated yearning - but not in a bad way, by any means, as I feel like if those yearnings didn't come and go over time, then I wouldn't be wholly myself. They are a part of me - they are not a bad thing, even if bittersweet.
They ebb and flow, and sometimes recede completely - at other times consume me completely. Though they usually hit me without warning, they start gradually and I can feel the oncoming tide. And once they've run their course, they recede just as swiftly, and gently, as they've rushed upon me.
It has happened for as long as I can, lucidly, remember. Though putting an exact date or age to it is difficult, as childhood memories tend to mesh and bleed together over the years, it can easily be said adolescence, at least, so it has been quite some time. But I still haven't ever gotten used to them, or have figured out how to cope with them - mentally or emotionally, anyhow. They do not prevent me from functioning or living my life, but they do wreck my mental state in a way. Though, I'm not sure I want to figure out how to cope with that...
I have been told by various people, at various points in my life, that I suffer from various forms of a disassociative disorder. Knowing I have depression issues I have investigated....but, No. Just no - it's not right. In all the many ones I have done ample research in, it's just not right - that is not me, that is not what I am experiencing. That is not what is happening, the "symptoms", even if some appear similar superficially, are all wrong.
When I say I feel drawn away, I do not mean I feel *detached*. That is a very big distinction - I'm feeling pulled away, to somewhere or something else, I do not feel disconnected. You can feel a connection to multiple things at once - so to be pulled into a something or somewhere else doesn't mean I have to detach, or "disassociate" with the here and now. I don't. Perhaps it is a foreign thing to try to describe to someone who has never experienced it before, and yes it is a hard to find the right words to begin with to really explain it in depth - but it's not that I "disassociate". Stop calling it that.
It is this very reason why I have never talked about it in depth at all, because even the slightest mention of anything puts others on high-alert. I know they are only trying to help, but no - you are not listening, you are not understanding. The best, and simplest, way I can recount it is like prioritizing. This thing - it's always there. It's always in me, and sometimes it just needs it's time. It doesn't even come first, as I still put all the needs and wants and important bits of this finite world first and foremost, but it needs its time in the sun, too.
As a child, they would say I was "dreamy" or just had an active imagination - I would day dream frequently, locked up inside my own head. Though I loved to play, and read, and write, and draw, I didn't need those things to enjoy my time. I could lay around for hours, in my own thoughts, completely happy and content, drawn away, off on an adventure, listening to the silent things whisper when they think no one is listening. I would doze and nap, and sleep extra long through the night - not because I was bored, or tired, but just because it gave me time in my own head - in my 'dreamland', where all these other things happened that wouldn't - or couldn't - in the waking world. As a young child, these were always described as good things....as a teen, it's often described as having your "head in the clouds" - something that is not necessarily good or bad, potentially problematic if left unchecked, but still nonetheless endearing. But as an adult? Phh. Well. Something must be wrong with you.
You're expected to grow out of it, but I find in adulthood it hits harder, and comes heavier, than ever as a child. Possibly because as children we're given room to indulge...it's creative, imaginative, learning to be content with your own company is touted as idealistic means of coping skills and personal growth - until it isn't.
For an extended time of my adult years I was wrongfully persuaded that it was hormonal as others had noted I tended to feel this 'drawing' around my cycle. I do get more emotional, and boy does the fatigue hit hard - but that still didn't make sense to me as it didn't happen *every* time on my cycle, and there were plenty of times it happened not on my cycle at all. Well, it doesn't have to happen everytime for it to be related, and hormones fluctuate throughout the whole month, so you don't have to actually be physically bleeding for it to be cycle related. What a cop out. With that logic, anything and everything under the sun and moon can be "cycle related". Bonus points deducted for the fact that every person telling me this was also, in fact, a woman. Shame. Lazy medicine right there. Lazy womanhood right there. And that's not even a feminist statement - that's just a common sense statement. Oh, so is every possible problem you ever have because of your period, M'AM ? So stupid. Stupider, yet, is that I listened to them. But I did, and I followed their suggestions - none of them worked, but with each new wave I would think the next would be better and easier if I just stayed the course - ignoring the fact that nothing was inherently wrong, and that this was only deemed an "issue" as it was categorized as "abnormal" and therefore must be fixed.
What I have come to realize now is that all those incidents - people wanting to categorize me with mental disorders, emotional disorders, or hormonal imbalances - call came at I time when I was, in fact, disconnected with something : my spirituality. I didn't have any type of falling out, or disillusioned from anything I ever believed in. Life just simply got in the way, I had more important things to worry about and do, and much less time to do them all in, so you just let certain things go that are not as pressing. Looking back at it now, I think maybe that is why they pulled on me harder in those years. Perhaps it was something drawing back in... I'd like to believe so, anyhow. And that's why I was stupid enough to believe doctors, and counselors, about stupid things I knew were not right - because I wasn't listening to the other half. And of course, nothing the ever suggested ever made one bit of difference - because it's not what was happening to me. And truthfully, because nothing was ever wrong.
As life started to level out, I slowly started doing little things here and there with my beliefs, with my workings. Little things, but baby steps, right? You can't just get off the couch and run a marathon - you have to warm up those muscles, start exercising those parts that have atrophied, and retraining your skills. Same applies - baby steps. It grew slowly over a few years - the tidal waves kept their course, as they do, and I just sort of accepted it at face value. But then the pandemic hit, and the world shut down. And boy, did I have all the time in the world.....and I used it.
Over this last year what I have come to realize is that, firstly - I was absolutely not alone. But also that I wasn't really paying as much attention as I thought I was - or my attention was skewed , by 'professionals', to focus on the wrong things. There was much more a pattern than I had ever noticed. These waves didn't come out of nowhere - though once they were on me, I could feel the gradual build - but before they ever even tickled my feet there were signs, there were patterns. I'd have days of restless nights, strange dreams, then it would fold into die-hard sleep, with absolutely no dreams at all - but waking as if I hadn't slept a wink and had been working all through the night. I'd wake with aches and strains, sometimes even bruises. We'd joke that our mattress was beating us up at night - we even forked out decent money for a brand new one. It's fabulous, and it solved zero of my problems, though my husband now sleeps like a baby...
It's only after these restless, exhausting nights does the tide start to flow back in, and the dreamy, dozey longing set in. The ache for something I cannot put my finger on, and the willingness to relent and let it take me away, even for just a time, and indulge in that pulling out to sea. I let it take me now - I do not fight it, I do not endure it, I let it take me and draw me out. And this is what so many professionals call "disassociating" - but that's not right. That's not what's happening.
And this is not some great spiritual come to Jeesus moment I am preaching to any of you, or certainly not meaning to be, but just the simplicity of paying attention. We, as pagans, just have the driven, inherent understansung that there are many more forces, and much more out there than what you see on the surface. And I had forgotten. Though I've kept my mouth shut, I've taken note when the topics and discussions come up - tons of people were in my very shoes. But they had been paying attention all along. I had forgotten. Some of the stories thrown out there I can't always get behind. Some of them are just flat out - No. But there were many more that weren't - they talked of the moon. The conjunctions. Astral travel. Being spirited away in the night. The veils. The Oran Mór. I was so stupid, I had been so blind.
And then, this year of much more laxed time gave me the opportunity to actually listen. These tides... their pattern.
The restless nights always came with the moons - these tides, they always came around significant dates....days when the veils are thinning. And now, as I feel the sweeping tides begin to pull again - here we are. Bealtaine is on the horizon. And as I wrack my memories.... every time.
Every. Time.
What is happening to me exactly? I still do not know - is this the call of the Oran Mór? Are the veils pulling at something deep inside me? Are the Fae trying to steal me away, as so many are quick to warn... Is there danger in letting the tides take me? Is this some deeper part of me being drawn home, trying to jar me to pay closer attention to things I have left forgotten? Something in there makes me think of my brothers...
I don't know all these answers, but I can't ignore them now that I've taken the time to listen. What I do know is that, whatever they may be - I don't want these tides to leave me. And believing that doesn't give me a dissociative disorder.
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Survey #334
"i dreamed i was missing  /  you were so scared  /  but no one would listen,  ‘cuz no one else cared”
Sunrise or sunset? Sunset has prettier colors, imo, but I enjoy the pastel nature of sunrises, too. Are you mentally ill? Oh brother. Are you physically ill? I don't have any serious physical health issues, no. Introvert or extrovert? I'm a very strong introvert. What do you think when you look at your body? That it's fucking disgusting. What have others said when they look at your body? When I was healthy, I was complimented every now and again. With the body I have now? I'm glad people keep their months shut. Do you have a particular song that you feel deeply? There's a good 'ole handful or two. Talk about a time in your life where you have felt most alive? It's weird, I'm not a city person at all, but possibly when I was walking the streets of Chicago with Sara and her dad one evening. There was just so much life, so many new sights, that it was impossible not to. Plus, I was at a very happy point in my life, so. I just enjoyed a lot. Are you confident wearing a bikini? FUCK NO. Have you ever been hurt physically or mentally by a family member? Mentally, obviously. Everyone has at some point. I've never been seriously physically hurt by family, but Mom did spank my sisters and me as kids if we did something wrong. Biggest lie you have told? I don't really know. I get really uncomfortable telling even minor lies, so making a big one would be excruciating. I'm not saying I've never said a biggie, I'm sure in 25 years of life I said something stupid at one point, I just don't remember it. Do you believe in the Illuminati? Nah; there's some compelling evidence, but I just think it's way too big of a secret to keep. Regrets in your life? Blaming the breakup entirely on Jason and saying just plain cruel things to him afterwards. Also sending an appallingly hateful letter to Dad to vent after the divorce. Flirting with my then-best friend's boyfriend at the time behind her back. Dating Tyler (it's a small one, but still a regret). There are others, those are just the only ones coming to me right now. Achievements in your life? Lots of academic success and awards (before college, anyway...), artistic accomplishments like having my work put in a museum, surviving a traumatic breakup, (mostly) recovering from massive depression... What did people say about you in school? Nothing, really. I was a quiet student who just did her work and tried hard. Is there something you have never told anyone? Yes. If you had two days to spend one million dollars how would you spend it? First, I'm paying off college debt. Then Mom gets a new car, followed by me getting new glasses and renewing my permit. I'm getting a good terrarium setup for Venus. Then, it's tattoo time, baby, haha. I can't really do the mental math on how much this all would cost, but those are the high-priority things I can think of. Describe your first kiss? Was it how you imagined? Jason and I were playfighting in bed, and he had me pinned. Our faces were close, and I decided to kiss him. It was a fairy tale moment, in my eyes. He looked so bashful for once (he's far from shy) but also really happy, and I was too. Growing up were you in a wealthy, average, or low income household? Low, I think. Or maybe average, when Dad was still around. Have you been raised by a solo parent? When I was around 17, my parents split, so kinda-sorta. Do you know both your parents? Thankfully, yes. Have you abused drugs or alcohol? No. Are you comfortable accepting compliments? Ehhhh, I really appreciate them and they can make my whole day, but I'm very awkward about it. I get shy. Are you comfortable giving compliments? Oh yes. I honestly love giving compliments; I know how happy they can make me, so why not share that with others? Is any mental illness hindering your life? Guess. (: Is any physical illness hindering your life? Well, it's not an "illness," but the muscles in my legs have severely atrophied from leading such a horribly sedentary lifestyle, and that has greatly affected my ability to work without the risk of just collapsing. Walking at all is painful. Are you preparing for an apocalypse? No. I'm not really one to worry about "prepping." If it happens, it happens, man. I'm not spending loads of money on a "maybe." Are you interested in cults? Not really, no. Are your parents good cooks? Mom is fine, but it's hard to really judge Dad's cooking since he barely ever did it, plus I haven't had his cooking in many, many years. I remember he was great at making breakfast, though. That was like a rare treat, him deciding to make breakfast for everyone. Have you ever been to a chiropractor? Did you like it? No. Do you know anyone who is an actor? No. Have your wisdom teeth come through yet? They never did. Have you ever used a public pay phone? No. Have you ever made an item of clothing? No. Have you taken someone's virginity? No. Is confidence cute? "Confidence, yes. But cockiness and arrogance, no. That’s a whole different area that’s definitely not cute." <<<< Nailed it. Would you be able to date someone who doesn’t make you laugh? Doubt it. Are you one of those people who never drinks soda? No; rather, I drink too much of it. I'm trying really hard to lay off of it, and I drink nowhere near as much as I used to (when oddly enough, I was healthy and fit), but I'm still not comfortable drinking a can and a half a day. Listening to? "Castle of Glass" by Linkin Park. Kinda obsessed. Ever used a bow and arrow? No, but archery is cool. Last time you got a portrait taken by a photographer? I don't think this has happened since my senior shot in HS. Take a vitamin daily? Daily, no, but I really should. I take a Vitamin D capsule every Sunday, though. Favorite Taylor Swift song? I only really like "Love Story" and "Picture to Burn." Have you ever cried because you were so happy? Yeah. Which are better: black or green olives? I don't like olives period, but I guess black. What’s your 3rd favourite animal? Huh, never thought of #3, just #1 and #2: meerkats and opossums. Maybe snakes? Do you like mushrooms? NO. NO NO NO. What dream do you remember most vividly? One I don't talk about. A childhood nickname? Mom called me "Twinkie" and still sometimes does. ;-; Does anyone in "real life" know that you take surveys? Would you be embarrassed if they found your blog? Just Sara. And yes, regarding some people. Who was the last person you blocked on social media? Did you have an argument that lead to that happening? I'm unsure, but probably. I don't tend to just like... randomly block people. What was the first social media account you remember signing up for? Are you still a member of that particular website, if it even still exists? Of course it was MySpace. It's still floating around somewhere in cyberspace. What website from your childhood/teen years do you wish still existed? I get nostalgic over the Animal Planet forums sometimes. Have you ever met up with anyone in real life that you first met via the internet? Did you get on as well as you thought you would? Yes, Sara. I felt like it would go just fine, but it went even better than I expected - I was oddly very comfortable around her and her family. Have you ever tried any of those meal replacement shakes? Are you a fan of things like that in general? Yeah; I tried many brands until I settled for Equate, surprisingly. Cheap does not equate to bad quality, my friends. We always have the chocolate ones in the house, and they're really not bad at all. Are you the kind of person to enjoy taking naps? I love me my daily nap, man. What's your favourite kind of cheese to have on a pizza? Idk, whatever cheese is normally used, lol. What's a hobby you loved when you were younger but no longer enjoy for whatever reason? I guess video editing. I can't say I'd no longer enjoy it at all, but now the idea sounds far more like a chore than fun. Is there a popular food/drink that you can't stand? What is it and why don't you like it? I could name five dozen, but here's just a few: coffee, pie, tea, fried chicken (or is that just a Southern thing to be obsessed with?), and... of course now that I'm asked this question, I'm blanking on the huge number I know exist. As for "why," that varies, but it's either just simply a taste or even a texture thing. How would your wedding boquet look like? I want a gothic-themed wedding, so imagine a mix of black and maroon roses... whew-wee. You’re at a bar, and you witness a man drugging some girl's drink. What do you do? No hesitation, I'm decking the motherfucker. Fuck my fear of men, he's getting knocked out, and I'm immediately alerting the staff, as well as of course the girl. Kids? How many? Why? Names? Boy or girl? Y'know, loads and loads of scaly and hairy ones. Got plenty of name ideas depending on what they are and how they look. The only baby whose gender matters to me is the tarantula because females live waaaay longer. Fuck them human babies, not for me. Are you an organ donor? Absolutely. I sure as hell ain't usin' 'em once I'm dead, so consider it my last act of selflessness. Whats the most you’ve ever lost gambling? I don't gamble. What is something you can never give up (that's not love or family)? My pebble from my "graduation" from my first partial hospitalization program. It's meant to symbolize how great pain and trials can file you into something beautiful. It was passed around group, everyone holding it in their hands as they wished me well and spoke their piece about me. I'm honestly just fighting back tears remembering it. Have you ever waited in line overnight for something? No, I'm way too impatient for that shit.. Do you think having an expensive phone is a good investment? Hm. I guess it depends on what you use it for. Have you ever witnessed a birth in person? A human birth, no fucking thank you. I've only ever seen pet cats give birth. Does anyone in your family smoke? My dad does, big time. He quit drinking, but never quite managed to stay away from cigarettes. Have you ever had a pet escape and run away? Seeing as I grew up with outdoor cats that we couldn't afford to fix, pretty much all of our tomcats left for roving once they came of a certain age. Do any of your exes know each other? Juan and Jason know each other, Jason and Girt know one another as well, and Sara and Girt have met. What’s an opinion you find impossible to take seriously? I simply cannot fathom the belief that "dinosaurs never existed." Explain the fucking fossils, like come the fuck on. It's absolute denial in the name of religion. What was the very first election you voted in? This one that just passed, actually. What is one random fact about you? I want like 20 tarantulas but Mom says no. :( Do you spend a lot of time outdoors in the summer? Fuck no, I will do anything to stay inside in summer. Do you wear band tees? if yes, which one is your favorite? I love band tees, yeah. My Ninja Sex Party shirt is the most comfortable, but comfort aside, it's hard to pick a favorite. Possibly my Otep one, 'cuz the design is dope. Do you ever re-arrange your room? No. What season do you want to get married in? Fall. What is the highest name-brand thing you own? Oh god, I don't own expensive brand stuff. I guess the only exclusion would be my Cloak shirt, but even that's not like, mad pricey. What color GameBoy did you have as a kid? Red. What was your favorite GameBoy game? Maybe that Catz game? Even though the music was the most fucking obnoxious meowing ever lmao. What was the last compliment you remember someone gave to you? Who was it? It was this guy in my PHP group; my therapist surprised the fuck out of me by sharing with everyone my most recent poem (I trust him a lot, and he urges me to send him my art, so I've done that twice), and I nearly fucking died from cardiac arrest. However, this Nick guy, who's a poetry major, told me it was better than stuff he reads in his Master's program. I almost cried. Have you ever personally been friends with a stripper or prostitute? No, not that I'm opposed though or anything. If you have tattoos, which one that you have was the most painful? The one on my inner forearm. Have you ever actually met and talked to someone who’s famous? No. When was the last time you got a parking ticket for anything at all? I never have. Do you have any pets who will bite anyone else out there, besides you? No; Roman won't even come close enough to a stranger TO bite, haha. It's funny, he's so goofy and you'd guess outgoing, but instead, he's terrified of people he doesn't recognize. What’s your favorite type of sushi? I don't eat sushi. What’s your favorite patriotic song? Don't have one. Have you ever read a book about a character in a psych ward? No, and I'd really prefer not to because it would just drag me back to dark times. Have you ever been in a mental hospital as a patient? ^ Have you ever had an ulcer? No. Do you like soy sauce? omfg no What’s your favorite store to browse around? Morph Market. @_@ It's a hub for reptiles for sale, and I have my days where I just browse the ball python morphs for like an hour or so, haha. What’s the name of the most recent baby a friend had? Christ, half my friends on Facebook are having babies, idr. I don't know who was the most recent. Do people normally say you’re a fast typer, or are you rather slow? I'm very fast. Have you ever been considered the "smartest person in school?" No; that was my friend Hannia. I'm pretty certain she would qualify as a genius. Her GPA was fucking incredible. Were you named after anyone famous or anyone on television? No.
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nyrator · 4 years
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wondering what to make next still
5AM and just felt the need to vent again I guess
Just a very depressed day for no real reason, still brought down by how stagnant things are I suppose- My creativity, my situation, lots of things
Drew Lain fanart, got a nice group of people following me on twitter thanks to it. It’s silly to worry about things like follower count, but it’s sort of addictive at the same time- I feel like I know the ways to do it, if I wanted, but I guess I just don’t really want to just chase followers with fanart- Feels like Tsukumizu fanart’s the way to go after Lain if I did more fanart, but mann, even if I did, still wouldn’t know what to draw.
I admire artists, like that one Diva artist that draws nun arts, or that one Avogado artist, people who draw constantly, consistent themes, but also a form of ongoing narrative, or something. Not only drawing so often, but each piece being its own. Diva especially, the way there’s so much packed in every scene, with an ongoing narrative in each piece, it’s admirable.
I really want to draw- but I lack that story element. That writing ability. I used to have it, where I could brainstorm and write pages and pages of notes. But I’ve lost it, somehow, for years. Last time I remember doing it was when brainstorming the prewrite for Rotten Nyan and coming up with like seven or so chapters (and still haven’t finished one). I don’t know if I just gave up on my writing, or if I just don’t care, or what. Maybe it’s simply depression/anxiety issues that medication could fix.
I think I’m just going stir crazy- friends occasionally get me out of the house, at least, which is nice of them. But haven’t cleaned in forever, and the apartment’s becoming more and more of a mess I can’t find the energy to do anything about. Every day feels wasted and underutilized, and I still worry about things like blood clots or other health issues or something from how inactive I am. Feel bad for neglecting cats still, though finally got them new food to try to try to help them be healthier. Wish I wasn’t so allergic that I could let them into my room easier.
It’s really hard just sitting here, day after day, doing nothing and having no energy to do anything, and wondering how much of my life I’m going to waste doing this.
Still need to work on my social anxiety, too- lots of that from talking to people again. And I’m still worn out by the internet in general, spending too much time on it probably. Mainly twitter, I suppose, which is my own fault, but I’m too addicted to absorbing information. Sort of inspired me to write something new, but like I said earlier- I can’t write at all. Made two character designs and the broad strokes, but can’t lay out anything at all. Not even a single scene to draw. It’s a weird, self-serving story, that I’d probably make anonymously just to avoid feeling guilty about it. Basic premise is a depressed girl caught up in her simple problem(s?) while observing other characters and their more complex, hard to understand problems. The other main character is a boy with a strong sense of certain social issues to the point of fault, and the girl trying to make heads or tails of what’s right and what’s wrong. Maybe I should just make them two separate stories, though, since they don’t really mix well together, I think. If I even manage to make it at all.
Been trying to play Picross or read manga to escape, but as soon as its over, it hits hard. Today I decided to read that Fire Punch manga I hear a lot about, since a friend introduced me to that Chainsaw Man when I did that one group of six requests a while back, now that CSM is ending next week. Pretty good, bit all over the place, can appreciate how silly ridiculous it could be, though admittedly also felt lackluster to me in places like the ending, though I wouldn’t say the ending saga was bad either. Definitely an interesting manga, to say the least. Disliked the movie girl at first but she became pretty entertaining for the most part, then lost interest in them towards the end of their arc. I think I just wanted to see more of some of the characters they introduced in that part and felt a bit let down because tree things.
I think reading manga’s really the only hobby I consistently enjoy, it just requires finding a good one. Decided that I was going to buy myself a physical version of all the manga I’ve read that I enjoyed/don’t own, but then realized almost none of them have been localized, and the ones that have are the lower priority ones.
Also started playing FF9 again finally, just got to the Black Mage village. I’m also definitely not very good at video games. I’d like to want to play one again, but they’re very hard to get into, especially on my own- I usually just go with whatever other people want to play.
In a few days, it’ll be you&me’s 10 year conceptualization anniversary. Still no progress, and still can’t even feel the desire to draw or sprite something for it. A friend ignited a spark in me to work on it again, but it immediately blew out the next day. I think it’s an impossible dream- I’ve learned RPG Maker 2003 inside and out, and if I could make maps, I’d probably be set. But the fandom’s grown away from me, and it feels almost pointless to make at this point. Been way too worn out from hanging around people who criticize those kinds of games, I guess, myself included.
On a random note, laying down is weird for me, I’ve probably mentioned it before. I feel like I’ve been hallucinating a lot- like half dream, half thinking it’s real and blending with reality. Keep thinking my mother’s still alive, that the death thing was a misunderstanding. Or that my uncle wants me to live with him. I can’t even remember if that really happened or not. The house I dreamt wasn’t his, though. And yet, I’m not asleep when these things happen, I’m lying in bed thinking and aware of my surroundings, and of the fantasy at the same time, thinking of them like memories, or concurrently. My brain is weird. Not only that, but how easily I forget to do things- I’ve set up a reminder on my phone just to remind me to message someone every day, because I just can’t remember to after waking up.
I guess I just don’t want to sleep and be trapped in my thoughts again. But it’s 5:30 now, and I should sleep. I’m scared by how trapped I feel. Still need to find a way to see a therapist about it, but I’m not very proactive about that either.
Got my mother’s death certificates finally after three months. Now I need to contact the bank and stuff somehow. It’s intimidating. Apparently her cause of death was “aspiration pneumonitis possibly due to cerebellar atrophy”, believed to be over the course of months. I wonder what that entails, exactly, and if it could have been avoided in the nursing home she was put in. No sense thinking about that, I suppose, I just know my aunt’s interested in a lawsuit if we’re able, so we’ll see how things go.
People are kind, I get kind messages from people who read these. Even those that don’t message are still kind. Hopefully no one feels obligated to read these, but it is appreciated to be cared about. Thanks, everyone.
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dragonologist-phd · 4 years
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Prodigy: Chapter 1
Sometimes, a family is three deadly Archons who care about each other a little more than they'd ever be able to admit.
(AO3)
Bleden Mark was an archon of immense power and skill, and he resented being assigned to babysitting duty. Tunon didn’t call it that, of course. He referred to it as ‘evaluating the potential of promising trainees to select those who would best serve the glory of Kyros’. He’d always been fond of stating things in the most dramatic fashion possible.
Whatever the wording of the task was, it required Bleden Mark to spend his time- which, he reminded Tunon, was incredibly valuable- watching over the children that Tunon called soldiers and deciding who would be advanced to higher positions above the completion of their training, and who would serve as cannon fodder. If he was luck, he might even unearth a few traitors in the ranks; that would at least be good for a little entertainment.
Unfortunately, the newest batch of candidates was devastatingly boring. Even Tunon’s newest favorite, a pet mage who he’d singled out as showing high potential, was a disappointment. Perhaps Mark shouldn’t have expected much to begin with; Tunon had always favored obedience over creativity.
Oh, his new star pupil was talented enough. Powerful, even. She’d make a perfect little war mage, and she’d serve Kyros well.
But she was predictable. That much was obvious from the beginning, when Bleden Mark watched her sparring sessions with the other mages from the shadows. The girl threw arcs of crackling lightning at her opponents with a flawless, textbook technique that allowed Mark to mentally calculate her every move and stance ten seconds before it happened. In fact, he was able to pinpoint the exact moment she left herself open to attack- and so was her opponent, who took advantage of the opportunity to release a wall of flames in her direction.
The opponent was no exemplary mage either, and the girl recovered- although not without a few burns and a singed robe. But even as she narrowly snatched up her victory, Bleden Mark couldn’t muster up any genuine admiration. He could certainly see why Tunon liked this girl, but it took more than flashy magic and raw force to impress him; he appreciated cunning, and it didn’t appear that this girl had much of that to offer.
Or at least, that’s what he thought until he caught her in the act of stealing scrolls from the restricted section of the mage’s library.
 Lilith did not steal. She intended merely to borrow.
And what was the difference, so long as Tunon never knew? This section of the library was so rarely used, anyway. At least someone would be getting some good out of it for once.
“Whatcha got there, kid?”
Lilith whipped around, fingers still locked tight around the scroll in her hands. The first thing that struck her about the man in front of her was the crimson red of his face paint, the only flash of color standing out from his otherwise dark figure. Then she noticed the way he didn’t quite seem to be all there, the way shadows clung to his silhouette and caused him to flicker in and out of clarity. That was when she realized who was standing before her: the Archon of Shadows.
Bleden Mark raised an eyebrow, and when Lilith didn’t immediately answer- it was strange, she usually had no shortage of retorts, but at this moment her voice seemed to be caught in her throat- he grabbed the scroll from her hands. The movement was so quick that Lilith barely had time to realize what was happened before he was once again on the other side of the room, studying the scroll’s contents.
“A spell like this is a bit above your station, isn’t it?” he mused, and Lilith’s hands tightened into fists at her sides, fingernails digging into her palms.
The barb did, at least, finally help her locate her voice. Lifting her chin high, she replied, “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”
The Archon studied her for a moment, then snorted dismissively. “Oh, I’m sure you can, kid. And I’m sure your teachers would agree and are completely aware of your intent to learn it.”
Panic shot through Lilith’s veins, but she did her best to keep her voice steady. “They are.”
“Don’t lie to me, kid.” The Archon’s teasing smile vanished. “Especially not when you’ve been caught in the middle of the night with your hand in the cookie jar.”
“I-” Lilith started to protest, but faltered. He was right about one thing; there was no use denying her intentions. “I was going to put it back.”
The Archon tilted his head, remaining silent for a moment. At last, he said, “Of all potential thieves, Tunon’s favorite little mage wouldn’t have been my first guess. Aren’t you afraid of invoking the Adjudicator’s wrath?”
“He won’t be angry if he doesn’t find out.”
The Archon’s answering laugh was so loud that Lilith jumped, but he didn’t seem worried about being overheard. “That’s a bit more to the letter of the law than the spirit, don’t you think?”
“I…” Lilith faltered, unsure of how to respond. Were this Tunon, it would be easy- just sing the praises of the law and nod along with every compliment paid to Kyros. But Bleden Mark was hardly anything like Tunon.
“Just tell me this, kid,” the Archon continued. “Why risk it for this spell?”
“It’s not about that specific spell,” Lilith said. She chewed her lip nervously and looked down with a sigh. “Not really. I need to be stronger. The instructors won’t teach me more, so I’m going to learn on my own.”
She’d always been leagues ahead of the other mages. Always. Always smarter, more powerful, a natural at arcane warfare. And rightly so; it was her entire life, and had been for as long as she could remember. That life had taught her one very important thing- a person survived by being the best. By learning everything they could and performing it to perfection.
But lately she’d been slipping. Not enough to cause an issue, not yet, but she could feel it coming. The others were catching up to her. Mastery of the paltry magic her instructors taught her was not enough. Storm spells like the one held in that scroll were just that type of power- not the classroom variants, but real wartime spells, the kind that could cause explosions on the battlefield. That was the kind of real power Lilith needed.
She didn’t have the words to express any of these thoughts out loud, but as Bleden Mark held her under his scrutiny she wondered if he just knew. At last, he said, “This won’t make you stronger.” The certainty in his voice stung, but Lilith tried not to show it as he held the scroll out in front of her. “But if you want it so badly, come and take it.”
It was a trap. It was obviously a trap. But dammit, Lilith needed that scroll.
Before she could think about it too long, Lilith summoned a spark of lightning in her hands- even the Archon of Shadows could be paralyzed, couldn’t he?- but before she could test that theory he was gone. Lilith’s sparks crackled uselessly into thin air, and then he was behind her, delivering a kick to her knees that sent her sprawling across the floor.
“Is that the best you got, kid? Flashy lights and a temper that makes you stupid?” He shook his head. “That’s not gonna win you anything.”
He leaned down, holding out a hand as if to help Lilith up, but she’d had enough of his tricks. With a huff she pushed away and hauled herself to her feet, ignoring the aching in her knees and the massive blow to her pride. “If you’re so wise, then what’s your secret?”
He chuckled, dark eyes glinting cruelly from behind the red paint. “I don’t have to be strong when my opponents are weak. Now run along before your teachers come investigate what’s making so much ruckus.”
Rage boiled inside Lilith’s chest, and she could feel the static crackling along her skin, but she forced the storm to remain inside. He was right; she had to be gone from here before anyone found her. “Are you…are you going to tell Tunon?”
“You know, I haven’t decided yet. I like to keep my options open. Let’s see how well you take my advice.” And then he was gone, as if he were never there to begin with, and Lilith was left with nothing to do but return to the mage barracks.
The next three days were spent swinging between fear that Tunon would call her to the Court for punishment and the strange, nagging desire to know just what the Archon had meant by his ‘advice’. Lilith ran over the encounter in her head, remembering his words. I don’t have to be strong when my opponents are weak.
On the third night, she returned to the library to pull an atrophic spell from the records, and this time no shadows came to stop her.
 The little mage didn’t seem to know when to give up.
Bleden Mark watched her next sparring match with no small amount of amusement. He was almost impressed by how swiftly she’d adapted to her new strategy. Almost- she still threw her lightning around with more reckless abandon than was necessary, but the youngsters always had always loved their dramatics. Mark could put that aside and admit that her new trick of weaving shades of atrophy through the air alongside her lightning was something that warranted approval.
By the time her opponent realized what she’d been doing, it was too late. His energy had been sapped away, and he could barely maintain a standing position, let alone an offensive one. He moved to put one last surge of effort into an attack, but before he could form the spell the girl’s staff whistled through the air, connecting with his knees with a loud crack.
Mark waited until the arena had cleared before materializing at her side. “You’re a fast learner.”
She jumped at the sound of his voice, then tried to cover her surprise by crossing her arms and raising her chin defensively. “I know,” she retorted in a tone of forced authority.
Young and stupid, Mark thought. From the perspective of an Archon who’d been around for centuries, that statement was true of just about everyone. Still, it fit this girl more than most- barely fifteen, but proud and brazen and utterly convinced of her own talent. And, unfortunately, not entirely wrong on that last point.
“Interested in learning more?” Mark asked. It wasn’t often that he took on new students; it was even less often that those students made it through the training. Tunon wouldn’t be fond of Mark snatching his favorite pupil away, but as the girl had pointed out already, the Adjudicator didn’t need to know everything.
The girl studied him warily, taking her time to answer even thought they both know what her answer would be. “I don’t trust you,” she said plainly, and Mark chuckled.
“Good. There might be some brains in that head after all.”
The next time Bleden Mark met with Tunon, he concurred with the decision to promote the War Mage Lilith to Fatebinder.
Tunon was pleased. He saw only the girl’s skill and willingness to serve. He didn’t see the ambition that would either get her killed or, one day in the far future, make her a very real threat. Mark didn’t feel the need to enlighten him.
Either way, it would be interesting to watch what happened.
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witharsenicsauce · 4 years
Text
(XCOM) Chosen Stories From the War #2: We’re Not Using the “Zed” Word
For a month, Kon-Mai stayed secluded in the XCOM medical bay, spending most of that month sleeping, in deep meditation, or staring at the ceiling while her thoughts tangled in her mind. Her wounds, despite Malinalli’s assurances, were deep and painful, and often seemed just on the cusp of infection. Her IV contained one dose of antibiotics after another and, when the pain got too bad, the occasional shot of morphine so she could relax enough to sleep.
Seclusion leads to depression. Kon-Mai had never been very social with her brothers before, but being surrounded by the unfamiliar faces of people who kept you at arm's length, it was beginning to wear on her. Tygan was one of the only people who didn’t seem to fear her, but his social skills were lacking to say the least, and thus she didn’t trouble him for conversation.
Her only respite was Malinalli. While often swamped with tending to other injured soldiers, when her nurse could get a moment she would come change her bandages or refill the IV, and then take a bit of extra time away just to talk. She was much more talkative than Kon-Mai would ever be, but even listening to the human girl ramble was a nice reprieve from the solitude.
“I think you need a break.” The girl said to her one morning while changing Kon-Mai’s bandages.
“I have been resting diligently for weeks on end.” Kon-Mai replied. “I am already in the middle of ‘a break’ as you say.”
“I think you need a break from resting.” Malinalli pouted. “You don’t talk to anyone besides me.”
“They do not wish for my companionship.” Kon-Mai tried to sound dismissive. “I am used to being solitary.”
“Is that why you look so sad all the time?”
“I do not look sad, this is just the structure of my face.” Her borther had often commented on her “resting bitch face” and while she hated when he did...she ad to agree. She was no pretty sight.
“Mhm.” Malinalli pulled the new bandages tight and tucked them in. “You’ve gotten most of your strength back, haven't you? If nothing else, your wound looks much better. I don’t even think there’s a risk of dehiscence anymore.”
Kon-Mai was silent. While she’d been out of bed occasionally since the last time, it was only with help from Malinalli and while leaning heavily on a walker, and that was only because her medic insisted that she use her muscles so they didn’t atrophy. There was no other reason: she had no need for food of any kind and, thus, no need for the restroom facilities the other soldiers used. She also had not showered or bathed herself since she arrived, but that was less due to her own genetics and more out of...apathy.
“A bunch of my colleagues usually like to meet in the bar to hang out.” Malinalli kept talking. “I want you to come.”
“I appreciate the offer, but I’ll have to decline.”
“I told them you were coming though.”
“What?” Kon-Mai bared her sharp teeth and growled. Malinalli flinched, but only for a split second. She stood her ground firmly.
“I can’t pick you up and force you to go.” She said, “I mean literally. You’re a lot heavier than me. But, I want you to.”
“I can assure you, your colleagues DO NOT want me to join them.”
“I think you’d be shocked.” Malinalli said. “They’re really excited to put a face to the name. Everyone’s been talking about you.”
“They fear me.”
“Yeah but…” Malinalli shifted on her feet. “How do I put this...you have a bit of a growing...fan club.”
Kon-Mai growled. “Wonderful. As if the pathetic civilian stalkers were not enough, the very enemy wishes for my attention. Would they like me to autograph their plastic swords?” She said in a high, mocking tone.
“They admire you.” Malinalli insisted. “Facing you in battle made a lot of us realize we’re woefully unprepared in melee combat. Goldilocks has been trying to make a training regimen based on your work but without you it’s all guesswork, and I know she’d love to learn from the best-”
“Cease!” Kon-Mai held up her hand. “You prattle like a Sectoid! Who is this ‘Goldilocks’?”
Malinalli seemed to smile knowingly. “I could tell you, but it would be much easier to just...show you.”
Kon-Mai bared her teeth, but it was half-hearted. “...I will need garments.”
“You can borrow mine…wait…”
Kon-Mai raised a brow.
“I guess you can’t. Um...gimme one second!”
.
.
Kon-Mai stared at herself in the mirror of the tiny bathroom. She towered over the sink and had to look down in order to see her reflection, but even at that angle she noticed how ragged she looked. The battle had taken more from her than she’d thought it had. Aside from her main, self-inflicted injury, she was dotted with tiny bullet wounds that had bruised as they healed, leaving her peppered with indigo dots.
She reached up behind her head and ran her hand through her...her hair. Her long, white hair. She had not worn it down since...she couldn’t remember when. She remembered being issued her clasps, the tubs with which her hair had hidden behind. She remembered the circlet fitting around her skull, the priests clasping it in place and then drilling-
She ran her fingers along the slight scars along the sides and top of her head: they looked uneven. She supposed the doctors must have removed her circlet? If they’d removed her chip, they must have had to. Now, her white hair breathed again: her eldest brother’s hair was soft and radiant, almost glowing. Hers, in perfect contrast, was knotted, kinky and so very oily from years being neglected, only taken from the tube every few months to be cut down and scrubbed raw. She shook her head, the while curls bouncing around her shoulders, and ran her fingers through it. It only grew from the back of her head and down her neckline to the nape. There already wasn’t much of it, and the way it stuck together made her look as bald as The Hunter. No wonder he wore a hood, it was not a good look on either of them.
Following her scarred hairline, she reached back and felt along the thick scar where her chip used to be. She no longer heard the Elders’ voices, and they could not read her thoughts. To them, she must have been presumed dead. She had expected the emptiness in her mind to be stifling, but for perhaps the first time in her life, she had been sleeping peacefully at night.
Kon-Mai reached into the shower and turned it on. She was the Assassin, and if she was going to present herself to the enemy, it was on her to make sure she looked presentable.
She pulled off her gown and stared at herself, at her scar, running jagged along her belly. Her dagger had cut so deep; so many torn muscles and arteries, so many split tendons, she had nearly felt her soul leave her body when she drove the blade into her ribs. The fact that the Commander not only saved her life, had brought her back to near perfect health…
She was supposed to die there.
That woman was hiding something.
Kon-Mai stepped under the hot water, shivering at the sensation. She didn’t remember this kind of warmth. Her baths had always been cold, and she herself was always...cold.
She hugged herself and just stood there for a moment, feeling the water run over her body.
Then she reached for the shampoo. If she went to all this trouble to take her hair down, she might as well wash it.
.
.
She put her hair into a single braid when she stepped out, not wanting to encase it while it was wet. With that, Kon-Mai dried herself off and reached for the clothes Malinalli had brought her.
They were small, of course. That was to be expected, no one here was even close to her size. The pants she was given were more like shorts, stopping just below her knees and hugging her body where Kon-Mai was pretty sure they were supposed to hang loose. The shirt was a flowy dress that on a human would come down to the knees. On her, it almost reached her waist and hugged her lady-lumps a bit more than she would have preferred. It had no sleeves, leaving her arms exposed. She looked over the glowing veins and…
Shook her head.
There were no shoes that fit her, of course, so she walked barefoot into the infirmary, the cold metal floor biting the soles of her feet. Malinalli was waiting for her, and beamed when she saw her. “You look so pretty! And your hair! I didn’t realize you…” She trailed off.
“I do indeed have hair.” The Assassin glowered. “I simply can’t leave it flying like my brother can.”
“No, no, I totally get it.” Despite her dark complexion, Kon-Mai could see Malinalli blushing. “I have to keep my hair back during work so I understand….”
Kon-Mai said nothing, barely meeting her gaze. “Let us get on with it then.”
“Yeah.” Malinalli held out her hand but Kon-Mai shook her head.
“I can walk perfectly fine, if you lead the way.”
“Okay...the canteen is this way.” She opened the door and held it. “After you.”
Kon-Mai had to duck slightly under the doorframe. Perhaps it was a good thing she was barefoot, she could only imagine the trouble she’d have wearing something akin to heels.
Despite the insistence on her independence, every step Kon-Mai took sent a shot of pain up her legs and into her chest. She clenched her fists, biting her lip and willing herself to keep a steady pace with the small human woman. Thank goodness she was walking slowly.
The canteen was, thankfully, close by. They rounded a corner and the metal shifted to dark, polished wood. The bar was much darker, lit with mood lighting and candles, and Kon-Mai could feel her muscles relaxing in the calm environment.
Until she heard the yelling.
“I TOLD YOU!” A distinctly British voice cried. “WE ARE NOT USING THE ZED WORD!”
“Why not?” Resounded another woman’s voice, without the noticeable accent. If Kon-Mai had to guess, she’d say this one was American.
“Because it’s RUDE!”
“Rude to who, the zombies? They don’t fucking care!”
Kon-Mai heard Malinalli sigh audibly, and she looked over to the source of the nose, where two human women sat at a booth.
“It’s the principle of the matter!” The British one said.
“There is no ‘principle’ to this matter.” The other one began counting on her fingers. “They walk like zombies, they’re half-rotten, they eat brains, they talk in weird growls, they are zombies, so I will call them zombies!”
“They still have human rights!”
“NO THEY DON’T! And neither do we, Princess! Have you forgotten the world ended?!”
Kon-Mai approached the table, and the shadow she cast over it made the two women stop and look up at her.
“Guys!” Malinalli called. “Meet Kon-Mai!”
“Oh!” The British woman, a girl in her youth with short purple hair, perked up. “Oh yes! We’ve been absolutely dying to meet you!” She jumped up, and Kon-Mai noticed that clasped in her hair was a little tiara. “Lady Demetria Min of the British Isles!”
“Don’t believe anything she says.” The other woman piped up. “You’re not an actual Lady, Princess.”
“Shut up.” Princess snapped.
The other woman looked significantly older, with wrinkles and scars carved in her dark ebony skin, but the bright red hair she sported gave her a youthful demeanor.
“Kon-Mai, this is Zuri Temitope.” Malinalli gestured to the woman.
“I prefer Tisiphone.” The woman smiled, looking the Chosen up and down. “I don’t know what I was expecting, but you...certainly live up to the hype.”
Kon-Mai nodded in thanks, but remained silent.
Tisiphone turned to Malinalli. “Hm. She’s quiet. I like her already.”
Princess pouted. “Well, come on! Sit with us, don’t just stand there!” Kon-Mai yelped as Princess pulled her into the seat beside her. 
“Maybe she can finish this debate for us.” Tisiphone said as she sat back down. “So. I say that the Lost should just be called ‘zombies’.”
“And I say that it’s rude to call them the zed word, and ‘The Lost’ is more politically correct!” Princess countered, her tone rising.
“I’m not fucking worried about hurting the zombies feelings, Princess.”
“It’s not about feelings, it’s about what’s right!”
“What do you mean what’s right? Our job is to mow them down like grass!” Tisiphone turned to Kon-Mai. “But what do you think? Your perspective is probably a lot different.”
“Yes. Tell her I’m right.”
“Shut your goddamn mouth, Princess.”
Kon-Mai blinked as the two women finally fell silent, staring at her expectantly.
“I believe it was one of your kind that said, ‘a rose by any other name would smell just as sweet.’” Kon-Mai said slowly. “What you call them does not matter, or change what they are. As long as you can do what must be done and eliminate them.”
“Oh fuck off.” Tisiphone said. “That’s a non-answer. You gotta pick a side.”
“Guys, come on, she said her piece.” Malinalli cut in. “Don’t badger her.”
“Why do you object to their current title?” Kon-Mai asked Tisiphone.
“It sounds like some sci-fi fantasy bullshit. Zombies have been part of human mythologies for centuries and everyone knows the term. Calling them ‘The Lost’ is just needlessly complicated.”
“Of course it is!” Princess cut in. “Everything is complicated right now, Tisiphone! But we have it so much easier compared to them, the way they’re suffering. Even if I gotta put them down, I don’t wanna forget that they are human, just like us.”
There was a brief silence, in which Kon-Mai’s eyes drifted to the hallway and she, unfortunately, locked eyes with a familiar Skirmisher woman.
“Betos.” She hissed, and hid her face with her hand, but it was too late. The conversation died at the sound of combat boots clomping their way towards the group.
“The Commander instructed me to fetch you.” Betos’ gravelly voice sounded too close for her comfort.
Kon-Mai looked up briefly, again catching Betos’ narrowed, yellow eyes. 
“I did not expect to see you here.” she said as she stood, Princess helping her to her feet.
“My soldiers are here, and thus so am I.” Betos turned to Malinalli. “You are dismissed.”
Malinalli stammered. “I need to return the patient to-”
“When the Commander is done, she will page you.” Betos said firmly. “You are dismissed. Go back to your post.”
Malinalli looked warily to Kon-Mai, who gave her a nod.
“...Understood.” Malinalli mumbled as she left.
“It was nice meeting you!” Princess called after Kon-Mai. “Come back sometime, alright?!”
Kon-Mai did not answer her.
.
.
Betos’ pace was much faster than her human nurse’s, and despite her best efforts, Kon-Mai found herself falling behind. She dared not call out, but she saw Betos getting farther and farther away and knew if she didn’t, she’d get left behind on this damned ship.
Luckily for her, Betos stopped dead in her tracks and turned to face her, her yellow eyes glowing in the low light.
Kon-Mai bared her teeth. “This was your plan, then? Lead me away, so I would be helpless, and then strike me down?” She nodded. “A devious trick, but it has worked. If you wish to kill me, now is your time.”
“Believe me, if I wanted to, you would already be dead by now. Dead and rotting in your stronghold, where your poor brothers would find the broken body of their little sister, and they would know that your life was taken by your own hands...” Betos shook her head. “But no. No, it’s not enough. Killing you, it wouldn’t be enough.”
Kon-Mai’s goading smile fell, and she felt a chill run up her spine. “What?”
“If you died, that would be it. You might feel a moment of pain and in the end, you might even beg for repentance. But…” She smiled. “No. I began this journey not so different from you. Mox has killed more than you, lest we forget.” ”Do not remind me of that.” ”I will. You are not the monster you want yourself to be. And I want you to look upon that truth, and swallow it like medicine. I want you to renounce your precious Elders and become exactly what you swore to destroy, to live like us, to truly feel.”
“I did feel, once. You saw it yourself, Betos. And yet you did not seem to care so much then.” Kon-Mai blinked violently, hot tears in her eyes. “...Do not be so sure that anything will happen.”
“We’ll see.” Betos turned her back to her. “It’s why the Commander wants to meet with you.” She continued her pace, and Kon-Mai limped along, trying to catch up.
Thankfully, it was only a few more feet down the hallway that they stopped at a single metal door, upon which Betos knocked. “Commander, I have her.”
The door opened, and Kon-Mai froze.
The woman stood up, her long white hair flowing like it had its own wind current around it. She walked slowly around to the front of her desk and locked eyes with the Assassin, those green eyes glowing with warmth and light and calm. She radiated with ethereal beauty.
“Welcome, Kon-Mai Mordenna.” The woman said. “I am Commander Senuna of XCOM. I’ve been so looking forward to our meeting.”
.
.
.
.
.
(God I’ve been looking forward to this. I’ve decided I’m going to post a new chapter once a week on Saturdays, but I already have five or so written so waiting to post this has been torture.
Now that it’s out, I hope you all enjoy!
Also extra credit to the people who catch the “Shawn of the Dead” reference.)
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thisiswhymomworries · 5 years
Text
Week Two
hey it's ya boi back again for a week two transition update! boring info first, then a summary of what's been going on
When: 10/26/19 - 11/1/19 (started T on 10/18/19)
Testosterone: I'm using Androderm, which is a daily patch you stick on exactly like a nicotine patch
Dosage: 2 mg per day, although you can get them in 5 mg per day patches
Changes: Increased hunger (again), new pimples, slightly darker leg hair?, orgasms easier to achieve and feels 20% better
OK so I'm putting the stuff about that last change below the cut lol, along with the bullshit bad side effects from the patches
check out my week one post if you want to know how the increased hunger started off. it's still going though, but it does feel like I'm finally evening out, where I know how hungry I get now and when. for anyone who missed the week one post, the increased hunger means I get hungry a lot sooner than I used to (1-2 hours) and feel it more intensely. this is a difference only eating half to 3/4 of a sandwich, plus some chips, to being able to eat a whole sandwich, 1/4 a bag of chips, and dessert
the redness around my most common breakout areas (as I remember from First Puberty) has developed into one big actual pimple on my chin, and a couple smaller ones around my lip. still some redness on my forehead, but no pimples up there yet. I'm not doing any skincare routine at the moment, but I'm planning on adding a facial wash to my next grocery shopping trip
my leg hair might be slightly darker? idk it's hard to compare bc it's always been so light and fine, I don't have any pictures of it bc I've never been able to SEE it. I never even bothered shaving my thighs when I was femme bc you'd never know without physically touching my leg. the difference now though is that I can see it! so I think it must be a little darker to be actually visible now. no change in how much body hair I have though
tw: this next part does talk about genitals, and I'm using clit / vagina to describe things bc that's what I'm comfortable with. I know that's not the norm for most trans guys though, so skip down to the asterisks in the middle if you need to skip this part
I'm including this bc I couldn't find any good info from an actual trans guy about "downstairs" changes that wasn't actually just porn. scrolling through a thousand trans dick pics on a nsfw reddit sub just to get an idea of what changes to expect was NOT fun
so far, no clit growth as far as I've noticed. I don't have bottom dysphoria, so I'm not especially hoping for it either. I also haven't noticed my libido increasing (getting horny more often), my sexual attraction shifting (yep still ace), becoming wet more often / not getting wet as easily, vaginal tightness / soreness, or any chafing
the only changes have been that I think it's a little easier to make an orgasm happen, regardless of how good the stimulation actually is. I was having a lazy jack off session and hadn't really bothered to get everything wet enough and worked up enough for it to feel as good as it could have, but still had a fucking fantastic orgasm even though the stimulation was just mehh?? so that's weird but cool I guess
the 20% is just a random ass number. I absolutely cannot do math and there's no way to actually measure this. I've just noticed that the handful of orgasms I've had since starting T have been better. not like holy shit a LOT better, but better enough that I sure as hell noticed
for context though, I don't use any sort of penetration and haven't used those types of toys in about two years. haven't had penetrative sex in seven. so if there's any vaginal atrophy, or extra tightness, soreness, etc going on down there, I might not notice as much or as quickly bc I just don't mess with that area
***
OK bullshit skin reaction from the patches. I understand why they get a bad rep because going into week two, I have started getting some pretty nasty reactions, especially since I figured out these are 24 hour patches and started leaving them on that long
the least bad reaction is on my upper arms, which just have very small circles of red skin that coincide exactly with, or are smaller than, the circle of T on the patch that's supposed to seep into your skin
second worst is my stomach, with one side having a slightly bigger red patch similar to the ones on my arms, but the other side that's a little higher up being a much darker red and a bit larger
absolute worst is on my upper thighs. the right thigh has a HUGE swollen red patch, with a big circle in the middle that looks and feels like it got sunburned by a concentrated laser. left side isn't that bad, but it only starts swelling up after you take the patch off, so it could just be taking a bit to get nasty. it's worse than the bad side on my stomach in terms of being even a little bigger than that, but also not as deeply red
this isn't all that bad though bc they don't hurt at all. I'm typing this with my laptop and a laptop table braced on my thighs and stomach right now and absolutely no pain. they don't even hurt to touch, unless I scratch at them
unfortunately, I very much want to scratch at them. so fucking bad. because they ITCH. that's the real concern here. they itch really badly, and it gets way worse when I go outside in the cold and my skin dries out. I've been putting lotion on them a couple of times a day, and that does help. I think part of this reaction is that my skin always gets dry, red, and itchy during the winter, and the patches are 1) making that worse for the area of skin they cover and 2) drying out the skin badly enough that it takes way longer to recover, plus it's always cold right now, so my skin literally can't catch a break
again, I'm not too freaked out by this because it doesn't hurt. if anything hurt, I would be hauling my ass to the doctor because I have a very low pain tolerance! it's just itchy and looks gross. I'm also kind of chill about it because I have an appointment with my endocrinologist in a week anyway, and as long as my skin isn't peeling off or hurting or bleeding, I might as well wait and go in for that appointment instead of dealing with all the hassle, bullshit, and possible extra expensive of trying to arrange something sooner
I've included pictures of the skin reactions, which are kind of gross looking but no worse than a sunburn. underneath the comparison selfies bc I'd rather ppl see me as a human being first and then as a gross dry skin monster lol 
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(better with or without glasses?)
gross skin reaction pics, didn’t get good ones of my stomach tho, sorry my thighs are so fucking pasty lol
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mellz117 · 4 years
Text
Hello all and welcome to part 4 of my playthrough of KH2 on the PS2. If you haven't seen the previous entries please go do that.
[ _1_ ] [ _2_ ] [ _3_ ]
To recap: The Wonders of Twilight Town are boring as hell. We spoke to Namine again, Roxas finally realizes his life this week is a lie and starts to remember his life in the Organization. DiZ is racist against Nobodies but we already knew that. Roxas and Axel fight, I wanted to cry. Roxas meets Sora in his sleeping pod before disappearing, I wanted to cry.
And the adventure continues
I wanna know how Sora wakes up in the real world when Roxas merges with him in the virtual one. How in CoM does Sora go to sleep in Castle Oblivion, the whole-ass chamber and then some get transferred to Twilight Town, Roxas meets him in a virtual version of the mansion, and Sora wakes up in the real mansion in KH2? Nomura please explain this series. Is Final Fantasy ever this convoluted?
Donald and Goofy call out to Sora and we're once again reminded this is a Disney game. I don’t know why but the fact that Disney owns the original Kingdom Hearts characters bothers me. It means, unless DISNEY gives the OK, Sora will never be in Smash Bros. and that makes me sad.
I don't know much about comas but after a year of total inactivity, wouldn't your muscles atrophy like, A BUNCH? At least is wasn’t 7... OR VENTUS WITH A WHOLE DECADE WTF?
Again WHY COULDN'T JIMINY JUST KEEP EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENED IN CHAIN OF MEMORIES WRITTEN DOWN IN HIS JOURNAL INSTEAD OF A CRYPTIC MEMO TO THANK NAMINE?
The trinity trio wanders out of the mansion, loot some chests, and find their way to the back alleys of town.
Hayner is rude RIGHT outta the gate, wow. Ok I remember that Pence actually met Roxas in Days, and so to me he seems to recognize Sora through his memories of Roxas despite the two sharing like, one visual similarly: blue eyes. But KH3 to my understanding reveals that the virtual versions of characters affect the real version so I dunno!! WHAT IS THIS SERIES?
"Have you finished the summer homework yet?" Olette asks Sora and his two ANIMAL COMPANIONS as if seeing two anthropomorphic animals is fucking normal in a town comprised entirely of humans and exactly one moogle.
Sora doesn't have any homework. For over a year he's been away from home and his mom couldn't make him go to school. I wonder how she's doing? Does she miss her son? Kingdom Hearts and parents don't gel.
I like how.. When Pence describes this cloaked figure who was looking for the trinity trio, as having big, round ears, they have to think about who it could possibly be. They’re not too bright.
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Why is “sofa” capitalized? Also they weren't even sitting on it, neither of them were!
HAYNER IS A RUDE BOY! He tells us so ask Seifer about the town, as we are new. Bruh, if you’re this rude to us I’m sure how much worse Seifer and his posse are.
Seifer is immediately confrontational. “You here to pick a fight with us?” and Sora’s all like “No, we’re new here.” and DONALD FUCKING DUCK! INSULTS SEIFER AND NOW EVERYONE’S READY TO THROW DOWN! THANKS TO THIS DUMB FUCK DUCK!
But thank Christ big chungus appears out of nowhere and stops the children and two adult furries from causing a scene.
This dude is WAY too into the Struggle tournament. Seifer has an unwanted faaaaan! Bro, go away, you’re creeping on a teenager.
I wanna fight Seifer.
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I'm not working on this like I should be. I'm going on vacation soon and since we're all in quarantine I can't really do anything fun so this is the opportune time to catch up.
Moving on! We make our way to the train station and oh no, we're ambushed by Dusks! Because of COURSE we are. Who could've seen THAT coming? /s
I- I like how, even after hearing his voice, and seeing his fucking mousey silhouette, the gang STILL might not be sure this is their stupid rat king. One brain cell between the three of them, I swear, and Goofy is the primary carrier, and it only sometimes works.
Why do we need to purchase tickets to travel on a magical train embarking to an ethereal plane of existence? I guess it's the principal of it. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
I HAVE A MIGHTY NEED TO HUG THIS BOY. LOOK, HE'S CRYING!
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Pence is so cute. I didn't care much for him when I was younger but he's such a cutie. 
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I HAVE A MIGHTY NEED TO HUG THIS BOY. LOOK, HE'S SAD!
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It's fat cat Pete. For like ever, I had no idea he was a cat. Wonder what Maleficent saw in him to ally with him.
The trinity trio laughing about killing (or at least taking part in killing) Maleficent. "She's toast!" this sure is early 2000's dialogue...
Heartless everywhere! "You mean the worlds aren't at peace after all" well, no sweetie. It takes time for things to recover from horrible events. *looks at current state of the real world*
So like, I had no idea Yen Sid was a Keyblade warrior??? I had read about that in his Wiki page when I googled if any Keyblade warriors were left handed. (Ven might be, but more likely ambidextrous) But I guess being Mickey's teacher would imply his Keyblade wielder roots but whatever, I didn't pay attention when I was a teenager.
Yen Sid's decor is baffling. What are these bookshelves? What are these BOOKS? They're huge!
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Good on Yen Sid for using singular “they” pronouns in 2005.
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On to our change of wardrobe. Without a doubt Sora's best look in the whole series, in my humble opinion. Lookit my handsome boy. 
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And Sora learns about drive forms, blah, blah, blah, powerful forms, gotta sacrifice something like in Duel Monsters, in this case an ally.
Yen Sid is so boring.
All seriousness and tension is just broken as soon as Goofy’s name is uttered, at least Sora and Donald have normal names wtf.
It’s interesting how like, 15 years later, Union X explains how Maleficent was able to return after her defeat. Something about, as long as someone from your original time remembers you and you have a physical object to represent you you’re able to basically some back from the dead. Right? Am I right on that? I haven’t played it but I’m hanging by a thread on this loop.
Sora’s hard work down the drain...
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Hollow Bastion! And of course there’s trouble. Heartless, Nobodies, and Yuffie, oh my!
A problem sequels have to work around is when the protagonist needs to relearn their abilities. KH does a well and good job with this one. In CoM, it’s a different battle style, in KH2 Sora’s been asleep for a hear prior.
Also, Merlin “leant” Sora some magic spells? How does that work? Like, once you learn it you can’t just... give that knowledge back...?
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How old is Leon? He has no right being this pretty.
Another ambush by Nobodies. Give it a rest, would ya? Battle ensues, Leon deals the final blow against an enemy, and as the camera usually does, zooms in on the victor and we get a nice slow-mo crotch shot of Leon. Thanks, game... Then, Xemnas’s very sexy, very manly voice echoes across town and the organization appears before our protagonists. I’m weak.
Demyx’s laugh, dude. I love it. Sora is ready to throw hands with anyone in his way. Honey, you’re barely out of a magic coma and this dude is like, two whole feet taller than you. Not to mention very fit.
I’m done thirsting over Xemnas...
After a few taunting words, the new villains depart, Donald attempts to give chase somehow? Where you gonna go? They disappeared behind dark corridors. It seems Goofy is still holding onto that shared brain cell.
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The Bastard
I like the majority of the Organization. Xigbar is definitely one of my favorites based on this next scene alone. He’s so snarky and full of shit. I love it. He’s great. He was definitely a stoner at some point.
I’m confused though. “He used to give me that same exact look!” the Wiki says Xigbar’s talking about Ven but I always thought he was referring to Roxas? Did Braig and Ven have a history? That’s implied in Days (which released before BbS) IDK dude. I’m surprised I’ve gone this long without spoiling myself too much on BbS. Like, a few story beats here and there but a lot of it isn’t gonna be known until I play it.
……………………………………………………………………………………………
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The dialogue for KH2 was so different from the first game. It dates itself so much in comparison.
……………………………………………………………………………………………
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Xiggy stands like this for 7 whole seconds parting with a condescending “Be a good boy now!” before disappearing. I love this fucker.
Leon, who’s been sitting on the sidelines this whole time, joins Sora and the others after the real threat is gone. We chitchat for a little bit and say our goodbyes. It’s time to leave this place and move on to one of two available worlds.
……………………………………………………………………………………………
At the Beast's Castle. After fighting a hoard of Shadows, the least intimidating enemy in the series (although the demon tower in kh3 is quite frightening nlg), the Beast himself makes his appearance, takes out the Heartless that suddenly stop multiplying upon his arrival, disgracefully shoves his supposed friends aside, and takes his precious rose to the west wing, which is where it SHOULD HAVE BEEN IN THE FIRST PLACE. ADAM WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!
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No joke one of the funniest actual gags in the whole series is:
*Donald Duck manhandling Cogsworth*
Cut to Sora saying "I'm glad you're OK." to Lumiere
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OK the minigame where you gotta light the magic torches, why do we have to make sure Cogsworth  has enough strength to keep the lever down when we have two perfectly capable companions that can hold it down instead? I remember this sequence being a lot more annoying when I was a teen.
Xaldin's voice makes me feel things. Ahhh he sounds so tired lol. He peaces out and we fight the Beast. I remember getting him to calm down being harder.
"Xaldin used my anger to control me!" Says Beast. He angers very easily so this must have been a cinch. Xaldin's been obsessed with him since Days so I would imagine this intel would come in handy.
More fodder to fight and on to the boss. Phase one is just an angrier version of the Darkball Heartless. Phase two is just skinny Ganon. I like its design though.
“Belle, I’m sorry. I wasn’t myself, being all rude and overall kind of a jackass to you and my servants” Except that’s kinda how you’ve always been lmao. Just because you couldn’t choose not to be an ass here doesn’t change that this IS in character. Still gotta work on that a bit.
“You don’t have to apologize” No, no he still does.
They all reconcile and the Trinity Trio departs until Xaldin shows up again to wreak more havoc.
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Time to move on to the next world.
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wisconsinwarlock · 5 years
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Taggity tag
Rules: Answer these questions and tag blogs you’d like to know better!
Tagged by: @dustierhoades - thanks for thinking of me!
Nickname: Captain Amazing (Honest, I didn’t pick this for myself, but yet I have it, and that’s okay by me.)
Zodiac sign: Pisces
Height: 6’0”
Time: 2:53pm
Favourite band/artist: Artist, independent of ensemble - Steve Vai. Band - Symphony X.
Song stuck in my head: Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata. I’m trying to learn to play Stuart Hamm’s arrangement, two-hand-tapping on bass guitar. It’s kind of a beast.
Last movie I saw: Theater - Spider-Man: Far From Home. At home -  The Dark Crystal.
Last thing I googled: The name of the geeky gaming pub on Ogden Street in Milwaukee (it’s the “Oak & Shield”).
Other blogs: @shepardsbaddriving is my Mass Effect only blog, though most of its content winds up here too.
Do I get asks: Not terribly often. I’m on this social media platform and not using it to be social, because I’m shy.
Why did I choose this user name: My location + desired occupation.
Following: Right now, as many new Mass Effect blogs as I can find.
Average amount of sleep: Six to seven hours weekdays, more on weekends. So much easier to get up when you feel like it rather than when a machine tells you it’s needful.
Lucky number: 23. Worked out so far for birthdays and anniversaries.
What am I wearing: Gray button-down quick-drying travel shirt; Levi’s 505s; black suede Merrill moccasins.
Dream job(s): Table-top game designer; rock musician; warrior-poet; independently-contracted space captain; eccentric spell-slinging genius-for-hire.
Dream trip: A trip such that the only limiting factor on it is homesickness, rather than money or work obligations. So many places I want to get to, and want to revisit.
Play any instruments: I identify as a bass guitarist just now. I used to be a decent violinist but haven’t played in a long while. I can also play some guitar.
Eye colour: green
Hair colour: ash blonde
Describe yourself as aesthetic things: Books, pop culture, cyberpunk, castles. Um, I guess.
Languages you speak: English primarily. I used to be conversationally fluent in Spanish but the knowledge has atrophied. I also know enough French to avoid starvation and homelessness when traveling, and smatterings of German and Japanese.
Most iconic song: Sirianna’s Song, Three Random Words. I wrote it, recorded it, and it is a pretty good representation of what I’d like to make more of.
Random fact: My left little toe is on sideways.
For tagging I’ll go with: No pressure, no obligation. @kangamommynow, @pen-girl, @laissesmoitranquille, @independent-android, @frecklesweedandchaos, @spacerbrat, @saberomega, @breakingj, @vorchagirl, @endlessvoidsnkittens
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robininthelabyrinth · 5 years
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Fic: An Internal Affair - Chapter 17 (Ao3 link)
Fandom: The Flash Pairing: Leonard Snart/Barry Allen
Summary: Leonard Snart, the CCPD Captain of Internal Affairs, is known as Captain Cold for a very good reason: He hates corrupt cops with a merciless vengeance, and once you’re on his list, you’re in serious trouble.
His next target?
A CCPD lab tech named Barry Allen who’s developed a suspicious habit of disappearing at random intervals.
—————————————————————————————————
Len is hovering by the door again, wondering if he should go in or not.
On one hand: it's Mick.
This is all so characteristic of him, really. Just when Len is losing hope, just when the doctors are starting to give up, Mick decides it’s time to defy expectations yet again and struggle his way back to consciousness in dramatic fashion. And not the momentary, illusory consciousness that Len's become accustomed to, moments where Mick's eyes would flicker open and his mouth would move in empty, meaningless syllables.
Real consciousness.
Mick's back.
He's alive, he's - not intact, no, but he's been acing all of the doctors' cognitive tests and he remembers all the facts and dates and events that he should.
He's grumpy and irritable over the food quality and friendly with the nurses while being a jackass to the surgeons and all in all is just so very Mick Rory that it makes Len want to cry just from sheer relief and having missed him so damn much.
(He may or may not have taken a few hours in a convenient hospital storage closet to do just that, father-imposed inability to shed proper tears aside; the world will never know for sure.)
So obviously Len should go in and talk to him.
On the other hand...this is Mick.
The man Len betrayed for years, being a cop without ever telling him. The man who rescued Len anyway. The man who paid the price for it.
And oh, what a price - two-thirds of his body covered in burns, now twisted into scars despite the best efforts of the medical establishment. Serious deterioration and atrophy of his muscles from being in a coma. Bed sores, a swollen throat from routine intubation, scars on his lungs, urinary tract infections...
His strong body, which he was always so proud of, decaying away around him like a living corpse - and all Len's fault.
Len was always willing to accept that bargain: that he’d take Mick's anger or hatred, whatever, anything, anything at all, as long as Mick woke up as himself. But sitting there with an unconscious man and wishing for that to happen is pretty different from actually having to walk inside the hospital room and face the music.
And so he hovers, wondering, debating, searching for some sort of sign of what he should do -
"Snart. Stop skulking around out there and get in here."
Well. That's certainly clear enough.
Len creeps into the room.
Mick is -
Mick is beautifully, wonderfully alive, and honest to God, everything else is so much less important that Len can't remember why he was so reluctant to come in.
Of course, then he tries to open his mouth and say something, realizes he has no idea what to say because months of rehearsing apologies is apparently rendered totally useless after a month of total panicked despair followed by frenzied overwhelming delight and relief, and he abruptly remembers what was stopping him.
What does he even say? How does he even start?
"Where are you showering?" Mick asks.
...on Len's list of ways this conversation could go, that wasn't really one of them.
"Showering?" Len asks incredulously.
"Showering," Mick confirms. "You like to shower in the mornings, it’s morning now, and your very friendly piece of skirt tells me you haven't left the hospital in days. So you gotta be showering somewhere here."
"There's a shower in the nurse's wing," Len says blankly. "Why - wait, what piece of skirt? Do you mean Danvers?"
"Yeah, her," Mick says. "Skirt. She was wearing one – red skirt, with mesh leggings underneath, and also a cute but very concealing sweater with the puppy holding the ice cream cone. She says you know the one...?"
Len is, in fact, familiar with that outfit; it's Danvers' go-to security blanket outfit, the one she wears when she's stressing over something. Usually over Len being dumb, if he's being honest.
Hmm. He really has been living at the hospital the past few days, hasn't he?
"Yeah," Len says. "Definitely Danvers. When'd you see her, anyway?"
His accent slips deeper whenever he's around Mick, he notices; a little less nasal overall, but affecting more words, adding more shortenings and dropping more words. A silent sign of how instinctively comfortable he is in Mick's presence, no matter how stressed he is.
"You were apparently unconscious in a chair in the hallway at the time," Mick says with shrug he aborts with a wince halfway through. "She wanted to introduce herself, set me up with a new phone and group-chat and some shit like that, have me sign some papers -"
"Papers?" Len asks sharply. He'll - deal with Mick actually having a chance to read Danvers' long-threatened group-chat logs later. As far later as possible. "What papers?"
"Apparently I've been suing the police department for being dickheads while I've been out cold and now that I'm awake she needs me to agree to keep it going," Mick says.
Len barely manages to keep from laughing. Of course Danvers would remember that lawsuit Len had some lawyer file in a fit of agonized grief right after it all happened, even though Len himself has long forgotten all about it. How had he ever managed without a personal assistant before now?
"Didn't really ask much past that," Mick continues. "You know I never miss a chance to stick it to the pigs."
Len flinches.
Right.
Trust Mick to bring up the elephant in the room right away.
Mick hates cops.
Len’s been one for years.
Mick just looks at Len steadily. "You never told me," he says quietly. "Why?"
"It wasn't true when we first met in juvie," Len says miserably, hovering by the familiar chair next to Mick's bed but not actually sitting down. "And when we hooked back up later on, started working together on jobs just once in a while, I was brand new and just absolute shit at it, paranoid as fuck. Barely even spoke to the one or two guys that did know, my handlers with the CCPD and the Feds; didn't feel safe enough. And by the time I pulled my head outta my ass, it'd been years and we were partners and I knew you hated pigs and I didn't want you to hate me and -"
Mick starts laughing.
Not in a scornful or miserable way, the way Len might have feared it would be, but actual real deep laughter of the sort he hasn't heard from Mick in far, far too long.
"What?" Len asks, suspicious. "What'd I say?"
"I thought it was 'cause you didn't trust me," Mick chokes out between belly laughs that are probably hurting him. "I shoulda known it was because you're just an idiot. Same as always."
"Hey!" Len protests automatically.
Not that he takes any offense - he knows Mick calls him an idiot because that's how Mick demonstrates affection, with friendly insults and ribbing and casual death threats.
But he's not an idiot!
At the very least he doesn't think he's done anything that qualifies him to be called an idiot at this exact moment, anyway.
"Fine, then," Mick says, getting better control over himself - probably better for his health and well-being - though he still has a giant shit-eating grin on his face. "Not an idiot. A goober that can't do social situations for shit, that better?"
"Not really."
"S'true though."
"It ain't! I can do social shit! I do social shit just fine!"
"Even when you're not conning someone?"
"Even when I'm not conning someone!"
After all, Len assures himself, Barry totally continued to want to date him even after he'd stopped trying to con him...
Maybe that's not the best example.
"Uh-huh," Mick says, looking amused. There are little wrinkles of laughter by his eyes; Len hadn't noticed those, before. Amazing what months of memorizing a person's slack unconscious face will reveal. "Lemme guess. That'd be this Barry Allen guy Danvers' chats keep mentioning."
"...you've read them."
That emotion he's feeling right now - is it horror, extra horror, or extreme horror?
Mix of all of the above, clearly.
"Oh yeah. I've definitely read them," Mick says gleefully. "But I wanna hear about it from you directly."
"Mick."
"Don't you 'Mick' me. I've got no other entertainment right now, and you know I like romance shit."
"You like pulp sci-fi and ninja romance stuff, not just romance," Len objects. "This story..."
He trails off, considering for a moment.
"Well, it ain't got ninjas," he finally says. "As far as I know, anyway, though there was a weird mention once or twice of something fucked up happening Starling, I dunno. And it might've been a bit romantic, but right now it's mostly just tragic."
"Tell me about it anyway."
"Tell you about what?" Len complains, finally taking a seat next to Mick on his bed. There's a chair, too, but chairs are for losers who don't get to sit on comfy beds with their best friends who, amazingly, appear to be forgiving them for - well, everything. How Mick can do that sort of thing, Len has no idea. "There's nothing to it. I got bored in between investigating the million and one corrupt assholes in the CCPD and find out this one guy who's been acting suspicious apparently disappeared for nine months, supposedly in a coma, but then reappeared with no damage and these amazing abs -"
"No kidding, I've seen the pics."
"Goddamnit, I’m gonna gut Danvers; those are technically evidence and she shouldn't be sharing them. Anyway, turns out he ain't corrupt, he's just a fucking superhero. Who'd have thought, you know?"
"Not really anyone's first guess," Mick agrees.
"And first I think he's okay, you know," Len continues. He's ranting. He's aware that he's ranting. He can't seem to stop himself from ranting. "Because he's kind and friendly and optimistic and he's got this stupid smile that lights up the room, but I'm thinking no way anyone's this perfect, he's gotta be up to something, but I get this idea in my head that it must be that he's investigating the superhero - this is all happening before I figure out he is the superhero, that is - so I start dating him anyway -"
"Dates go well?"
"Amazingly. He legitimately thinks my puns are funny."
"Clearly a match made in some level of punster hell," Mick says.
"Shut up, puns are funny."
"Lowest form of wit."
"Lowest circle of hell's supposed to be cold, so I guess it fits," Len says, rolling his eyes. "Did I tell you yet that he thought for a while that I was a supervillain named Captain Cold? That's my new nickname at the precinct."
"No, but that's hilarious. You always did like your cold puns. Actually, you probably didn't know it, but people – criminals, that is – sometimes called you Ice-heart Snart."
"That's...awful. I'm glad I didn't know about that."
"No kidding. Captain Cold's much better. So he thought all of that about you and dated you anyway?"
"No, he didn't realize I was the Internal Affairs guy at first; I didn't tell him ‘cause I was investigating him. Anyway - wait, where was I?"
"Amazing dates," Mick prompts.
"Well, they were," Len says. "Absolutely amazing. Best I've ever had - just talking and laughing and just being happy hanging out and all that stuff that comes right out of that romance stuff you're always on about - and then, of course, just as I start thinking that I finally got lucky, it all blows up in my face. Turns out he's just as bad as I thought when I first started looking into him, and I should be happy to be proven right except for some reason I'm not, and now I can't stop thinking about how awfully he's gonna do in prison when he finally gets sent there like he deserves. I feel like shit about it and I don't know why -"
"Of course you don't," Mick says, sounding amused. "You wouldn't."
Len eyes him suspiciously. "You say that like you do know."
No way. Mick's been in a freaking coma; how could he have figured out what the hell's going on with Len's emotional state before Len did?
"Lenny," Mick says, sounding just a bit patronizing. "I might be a blockhead, but I've been interpreting your emotions for you since juvie. 'course I know."
"You're not a blockhead," Len protests automatically, always on guard against anyone - even Mick - putting down Mick's intelligence. He hates it when people do that; Mick's one of the smartest guys he knows, even if he doesn't talk all that pretty. "You just don't got as much education as some, s'all."
Though Mick's got a point about Len's emotions.
Not that Len's going to ask him to explain.
It doesn't matter, after all, what's done is done. Who cares how he feels about it?
Who cares about understanding why Len feels like he got a shiv to the gut every time he even thinks about Barry - about Allen, damnit - and a feeling like he swallowed crushed glass but also a weird kind of happiness left over from when every thought of Barry brought him joy?
Who cares -
Len. Len cares. Len cares a lot.
"Okay, I'll bite," he says, giving in. "What the fuck is wrong with me?"
"You're in love with him," Mick says. "Obviously."
...what?
No.
Impossible.
In love? Len doesn't do love.
Len's never done love, or at least not love like that - love for Lisa, love for Mick, yes, but not the stupid sort of Valentine's Day love, the type you read about in novels that you don't admit to reading, the type that makes the world turn around you and leaves you breathless and chokes in your throat, ripping your heart out of your chest because it belongs to someone else who doesn't care as much as you care, and leaves you with an awful gaping hole in your belly whenever you think about the fact they're going to go away for good somewhere where you won't see that optimistic smile or hear that laugh or -
Shit.
Shit.
"...I really am an idiot that can't do social situations for shit," Len says aloud, realizing.
"You really are," Mick says, but he sounds fond. "Don't worry; I came to terms with that years ago."
"But I can't be in love with him," Len says, trying so desperately to shove that knowledge back under the river of denial where it came from that he doesn't even make a de-Nile pun like he usually does. "I can't! He - he's - he's done unforgivable things – kidnapping, imprisonment, solitary – literal war crimes – and he should've known better, he's corrupt -"
"Sounds to me like he made some mistakes -"
"Mistakes?!" Len yowls.
Mick holds up a hand. "Okay, fine, yeah, some of those mistakes are crimes, some might even be war crimes, but seriously, Snart, if you stopped liking someone just because they committed a couple of horrific crimes, you and me, we wouldn't be friends."
"It's not the same thing!" Len protests.
"I'm an arsonist, Lenny; I literally murder people sometimes."
"Usually as an unintended side effect," Len says dismissively. Intent matters, when it comes to criminal stuff; most of the time Mick could be blamed for nothing worse than negligent manslaughter and that's only technically murder. Len checked. "He's corrupt, Mick. He put himself out as being a hero, as someone doing the right thing, as someone upholding the law, and all the while he's doing stuff like that in the shadows...I can't be in love with someone like that, Mick. I can't. Look what corruption did to you! Look what it did to me and Lisa, when it was my dad! Look what -"
Mick catches Len's hands, which Len has been waving angrily in the air.
"Don't move like that!" Len exclaims, losing his prior train of thought immediately. "Your muscles aren't used to sudden movement; you'll hurt yourself!"
"It hurt," Mick says. "It was still worth it. Boss, you're spiraling."
"I'm - what?"
"Spiraling. My shrink told me about it; you get stuck in a mental rut and you can't get out of it, so you just go in circles, on and on, torturing yourself with all your bad thoughts. In this case, it's me." Mick squeezes Len's hands. "You've been torturing yourself with what happened to me. Except instead of thinking about it and dealing with it and getting over it, you've poured everything you feel into your war on corruption, focused so much on it that you're seeing unforgivable corruption and betrayal every way you look. But you don't gotta keep doing that. I'm here. I'm okay. I'm alive."
Len stares at Mick.
His hands, still enclosed in Mick's, start shaking. His shoulders, too, and he can't seem to make them stop.
"You're alive," Len croaks, suddenly finding it hard to talk. He’d known Mick was alive and mostly well for a while now, couple of days, but it suddenly feels like he’s learning it all over again. "You're alive. You're alive and you're talking and you're you and - fuck, Mick, I nearly lost you."
"I know."
"I can't do this shit without you," Len says, desperate now. "Any of it. Life, the universe, everything; it doesn't matter. I need you by my side, Mick. I need my partner - I need my best friend. It all turns to ash without you."
"I'm here," Mick says, strong and solid and dependable as ever. "You've got me."
"I don't -" Deserve you, Len is about to say, only he chokes on it; he never knew he felt that way. "I lied to you. For years. By omission, by commission...I put my job above our partnership. I shouldn't have. I really shouldn't have. You're more important - you're the most important. I ain't never gonna put anything above you ever again. Not work, not romance, not anything nor anyone. Not anything. I'm so goddamn sorry, Mick. Not just for what I did to you, for what happened, but for the lying. For all of it."
"You're an idiot," Mick says, and he squeezes Len's hands again. "Total idiot. Boss, it's fine. Really. I get it. I get why you made that choice - especially now that I know it was all about your issues, not about me and what you thought of me. Even before that, though, I got it. I knew you were a pig and I came to get you anyway, remember? Through gunfire and furious Families, and that's saying something."
Len nods mutely.
"I did it because we're partners," Mick tells him. "And we're always gonna be partners. Always gonna be friends, even if you do something dumb like lie to me or fall in love with a target of your investigation before you finish investigating him -"
"Hey," Len protests, but weakly. Mick has a point. A very good point.
"No matter what, it doesn't matter," Mick concludes. "You and me against the world, remember? That ain't changed."
Len nods, and turns his hands to squeeze Mick's hands back.
"Now for the love of fuck can we please stop talking about feelings?" Mick asks, almost begging. "You really don't pay me enough to be your shrink. You couldn't. You could offer me all of Fort Knox and I wouldn't be your shrink."
Len snorts, maybe a little wetly but not from tears because he doesn't do tears, and pulls back his hands. "Yeah, sure, we can stop. I think I hit my yearly quota of feelings there."
"No kidding," Mick says fervently. "You hit yours, and mine, and then mine again a few time. I'll let you off the hook this one time, just 'cause I know you've been saving it up the whole time I was out, but still, for someone who likes to say he don't got a heart, you sure got a hell of a lot to say. Oh, and don't think I didn't notice you slipping that 'ash' pun in there."
"Ash is the right word!" Len protests. "Just because it's fire-related don't mean it's always a pun!"
"With you, it's always a pun," Mick says firmly.
Len laughs. If it's a little more hysterical and sounds a bit more like sobs than it normally does, they'll both be more than willing to overlook that.
As they like to remind each other, they don’t have hearts – or at least they know to keep them well hidden.
(God, Mick is Len's best friend - how did he last so long without him? No wonder everything's been screwing up left and right while he's gone.)
"Hey, wait a minute," Mick says thoughtfully, "while we're talking about this shit, before we shove it all down the memory hole, tell me - how come you never had to turn me in? I did plenty of crimes while we were running as thieves."
"Were running?" Len echoes, alarmed, and he looks down at Mick's legs to see if something's happened to them in the last few minutes. The doctors told him Mick would get his mobility back, or at least most of it, and his legs aren't as affected as his back and shoulders. There should be no impact on his ability to run, or at least to walk quickly. Or does Mick know something he doesn't...?
"Yeah, I hear through the grapevine that you got yourself a new job," Mick says dryly. "Not much thieving to be done there. Plus I figure it might be time to retire from the whole thief thing myself, too, all things considered."
"Ah. Right. I forgot."
Metaphorically running, right, that's an option.
"Don't go forgetting you quitting crime, boss; it's a kinda big deal. You really got a business card like Skirt says?"
"Yeah, it's awful," Len says. "Stamped, embossed proof that I'm legit now."
"Embossed," Mick marvels. "Now I know I gotta retire, if you've shifted over to doing the hunting."
"I'm Internal Affairs, actually," Len says. "I only hunt corrupt cops, district attorneys, and other government employees, not criminals."
"Really? Huh. Shoulda known you'd find a loophole – crime-fighting without actual crime-fighting."
"What can I say? I'm very good at what I do," Len sniffs, smiling when Mick laughs - finally getting the double meaning that's always been there. "And, uh, about your crimes -"
"Yeah?"
"So, I might've registered you as a CI couple of years ago," Len confesses, deciding that exactly how many years constituted a couple was an open question up for debate. Couple could totally mean a decade plus. "Proper legal confidential informant for both the CCPD and the Feds. Then after a few years of that, I got you swapped over to being classified as full undercover -"
"Wait," Mick says, alarmed. "You telling me the reason all of my prison sentences were so short was 'cause the judges all thought I was a pig?!"
"You didn't care about the reason back then!"
"I'm a pig?!"
"No, you never went to police academy, you ain't a pig," Len says, rolling his eyes. "I told 'em you were working for me as a non-officer agent, and it ain't like they really care about a few arsons when they've got the whole set of Families to take down. You're a snitch at best."
Mick considers this.
"I'm okay with being a rat," he finally decides. "I like rats. They're cute. Remember Axl?"
Len does remember Mick's pet rat Axl. Mick doted on him, and even Len got pretty fond. They ended up having to find him a new owner - a woman with a gigantic rat cage that took up half the living room, which both she and Mick agreed was the right balance of pet-to-owner space (Len thought they were both nuts) - and he lived to a ripe old age with god-knows-how-many descendants.
"But seriously," Mick continues, "they actually all bought that? Didn't they ever ask you why I was willing to do all that work without being paid?"
"Well. Actually..."
"Boss. Boss, no. I know that tone of voice. You telling me I got paid? Is there some savings account somewhere with my name forged on it that you conveniently never told me about?"
"Maybe."
Mick rolls his eyes, grinning; he knows that's as good as a yes. "Anything else you'd like to tell me while we're at it?"
Len considers this. "...did Danvers' group-chat mention my cold gun?" he finally asks, reaching down and patting the piece in question. He'd been carrying it with him in case Barry tried to come confront him or something, though luckily Barry hasn't.
Barry wouldn't. He knows that, now that he's thinking a bit more calmly. Not at a hospital, certainly, but not ever. He wouldn't force his presence on Len like that, thinking he was unwanted.
"At length, yeah," Mick says dryly. "Your new baby."
"Well," Len says, ignoring that. So what if his gun is the best, sweetest girl he's ever seen, once you exclude Lisa from the calculations? "What Danvers doesn't know is that it came as part of a set - one cold gun, one heat gun."
"Heat gun? Like a flamethrower?"
"Better - it manipulates the intensity of infrared waves. You can light anything on fire."
"Boss," Mick says. "I've already forgiven you for the whole pig thing. You don't need to heap on the presents."
"You saying you don't want it?"
"You bet your ass I want it!" Mick exclaims, laughing. "Man, I'm gonna need to thank this Allen guy when I meet him; you never used to give out such good gifts."
Len flinches. Just a little, but Mick notices, of course.
"Boss?"
"You won't, uh, you won't exactly be meeting him," Len says. "Anytime...ever."
"Why not?"
"Because after I found out about the secret prison thing, I had his foster dad arrested for corruption, got warrants to search the homes of his two best friends, and got Barry suspended from his job without pay pending investigation. So I don't think he's really in the mood to talk to me."
"...shit, boss," Mick says after a long few minutes. "You sure love to put the 'over' in 'over-reaction', don't you?"
"They committed crimes," Len says defensively. "Very bad crimes. And they should've known better!"
"Boss! Ain't you the one always telling me about how intent matters? Ain't they being manipulated by some mastermind creep asshole who's good enough to be playing the Families? Even criminal courts don't consider stuff done under duress and deception to be as bad!"
Len winces. That's...not actually wrong. Sure, they committed some fairly horrific crimes and they totally should've known better, but there were some extenuating circumstances he probably ought've thought a bit more about. Any man who could play not just one but multiple Families clearly had an edge when it came to mind games - and don't think Len hasn't noticed the way Barry'd described the toxic atmosphere and emotional jibes and the almost parental relationship the guy set up in his office, which is the sort of environment that can convince even otherwise intelligent people to do seriously shady things.
It's not an excuse, not at all. But it is something of an explanation. Probably not enough to knock down the charge from primary to accessory, but a judge could definitely look at that and find lots there to help mitigate -
"Boss..."
"I know, I know! You don't understand, I was just really angry -"
"Boss!" someone that is definitely not Mick exclaims, bursting through the door. "We've found something!"
Len is off the bed, one crutch in the air wielded as a club, before they even finish the sentence, and then he realizes it's just Detective Thawne and Iris.
"Oh, it's you," he says blankly. "How'd you even know to find me here?"
"Uh," Thawne says, eying the raised crutch warily. "Ms. Danvers told us. Pretty reluctantly. You - wanna put that crutch down? You're looking a bit unsteady."
Len rolls his eyes and does, sitting back down.
"Does that work?" Iris asks. "As an improvised weapon, I mean?"
"Better than you'd think," Len says dryly.
"How come he's still got crutches, anyway?" Mick asks from his bed. "Ain't it been months since he got fucked up?"
"Apparently he keeps tearing his injuries back open," Iris says.
"Damnit, boss..."
"That's not the reason," Len says, even though he kind of does do that more than he should. "It's because the second gunshot nicked my spine and it takes lots longer to heal from that."
"And you keep tearing your injuries back open," Iris says wisely.
"...and that," Len concedes grumpily.
"I'm Iris," she adds, waving at Mick. "Iris West. This is my fiancé, Eddie Thawne. We're helping Captain Snart here investigate the disappearances -"
"Heard of you," Mick says, waving in the general direction of his phone. "Skirt – uh, Danvers – she’s got a group-chat with running commentary up -"
"I want in," Iris says at once. “That sounds amazing.”
"- but you said West, right? Didn't the boss here just..? Why you still working with him after that?"
"Because my dad deserves to get into trouble over this shit," Iris says, an angry glint in her eyes. "Between the lying and the deception and the blatant aiding and abetting of human trafficking, I'm starting to wonder if I ever really knew him at all -"
"Hold up," Len says. "Fiancé? That's new. Congrats, both of you."
That works splendidly to derail Iris, who spends the next few moments showing them both her ring while Thawne blushes and smiles and is entirely unable to look away from Iris, stars in his eyes the whole time.
"Nice," Len says. "Tasteful - pretty, but with some class."
"I'd definitely steal it," Mick agrees.
"Definitely," Len agrees. “I could fence that in minutes.”
"You're both very sweet," Iris says. "And if it ever goes missing, I'll be sure to check with you two first. Anyway, not the point! We came here to tell you that we've figured it out!"
"The Families' 'big day'?" Len asks, immediately interested. "Or Wells' connection to it?"
"Both, actually," Thawne says, brightening. "It's complicated and - well, a little frightening, but we think we have an idea of where the rabbit hole leads, at least, although I wouldn't go as far as Iris and say we actually figured it out."
"We got a good start," Iris says, with dignity. "That's further than most people've gotten."
"And you managed to do it without being 'disappeared', well done you," Len drawls.
"He means that as a compliment," Mick remarks.
"Yes, we gathered," Iris says, grinning at him. "Listen to the tone, not the words, right?"
"Sometimes the tone'll mislead you, but yeah, generally. I usually use body posture - the more lounging, the better his mood."
Len pointedly straightens back up, causing Iris to snigger, Thawne to smile, and Mick to chuckle.
"What's this about Families, though?" Mick asks. "Thought Snart was focused on corrupt cops and government people now."
"I'm sure I can find a police corruption hook somewhere," Len says airily. "You know what they say, you can take the boy out of org crime work..."
"Not a real saying, Snart," Mick says, long-suffering. "Never was."
"Actually, you might have more of a hook than we originally thought," Thawne says. "You see, the Families -"
"Plural?"
"That's right, Mr. Rory -"
"Mick."
"Mick," Iris says with relish. She's going to use this to try to get permission to call Len by his name, he just knows she is. Pity she's doomed to disappointment. "Yes, Families, plural; we've confirmed that all the Families in Central have agreed to work together on this."
"All of 'em? Shit."
"Agreed," Len says.
"Shoulda stayed in the coma..."
"Don't say shit like that or I'll smack you with a crutch," Len tells him, then transfers his attention back to the other two. "So what is it? What's the big day? And, perhaps equally important, when?"
"We can answer your last question best," Thawne says. "We're still not sure exactly what the Families are planning - we know it involves a lot of movement, a lot of manpower, though probably a lot of that is just security - but we've identified what the major Central-wide event they're going to use to conceal their mobilization."
"You're not going to like it," Iris interjects.
"I never liked any part of this," Len points out. "Hit me."
"The Families' big day goes down on Election Day," Thawne says.
"...Election Day," Len says. "Election Day. Election Day?!"
He's pretty sure he's not adequately conveying the sheer horror he's feeling right now.
Election Day.
Not the one held in November, which is all well and good, but the important one for Central City purposes: the primary election that happens each year in May.
The day where the real candidate selection takes place.
Only one of the wildest days of the entire Central City social calendar.
Most of the country has faded into widespread apathy, not bothering with votes that they feel rarely matter, and all the more so when it's "only" a primary – but not Central City.
Oh, no, not Central City, with its still-functioning political machine with its armies of thugs available to help 'encourage' voting. Central City's government might be rife with corruption, yes, and one-party control is practically a given, but at some point some genius decided to deal with the fact that there are competing sources of corruption by allowing a total free-for-all when it came to who got the nod for what position.
Corporate candidates battle it out with nationalists and progressives and reformers and who-the-hell-knows-what-else. In Central, even the communists abandon their flag in favor of competing in the bloodbath of Election Day, knowing that the political machine would force the city - and with it, the state - to fall into line come the federal election day, a far less important date.
Election Day.
And the Families are moving.
Not a good combination.
Especially since –
“Election Day is tomorrow!” he exclaims.
"Yeah," Iris says grimly. "Not good at all. Like Eddie says, we haven't figured out exactly what they're up to, but if it's on Election Day, dollars to donuts is that it involves the election itself."
"And with the Commissioner hoping to run for mayor while the mayor runs for governor, getting anyone's attention to doing anything to stop them will be a trick and a half," Len says, equally grim. "What'd you find out about Wells?"
"We think he's being used as a liaison between the Families and more legitimate entities," Thawne says. "Although why -"
He cuts off in the middle of his sentence.
Quite reasonably, in Len's view, given that they are no longer alone in the room.
The Man in Yellow is here.
The name Barry gave him is apt, Len thinks; far more than the Reverse Flash. Beyond the monstrous speed, there's nothing of Barry here at all, not even a reflection.
Standing in the middle of the room with his entire body vibrating at a consistent blur that Barry hasn't mastered, utterly human but for his demonically bright red eyes, the Man in Yellow smiles.
"Don't let me interrupt you, gentlemen," he says, his voice as blurred as his face. He's being obnoxiously courteous, in a sort of arrogant narcissist way that suggests he's entertaining himself in the moments before he plans to kill them all. "You were saying -"
"And lady," Len interrupts, rising to his feet.
"...what?"
"Gentlemen, and lady," Len says. "I believe Iris identifies as a lady."
"I do," Iris says, looking somewhat perturbed by Len's sudden interest in grammar. "‘Gentlemen and lady’ is in fact correct."
The Man in Yellow - Wells himself, or someone in his employ - blinks those shining red eyes, clearly taken aback.
Len assumes he had some sort of introductory speech planned out. Too bad for him that Len isn’t the type to willingly subject himself to evil monologues.
"Would you like to move on to the part where you threaten to kill us all?" Len inquires. "Or do you generally just go straight to the actual murder?"
The Man in Yellow laughs, the sound ringing through the room. "I usually like to make a point of it," he says, raising a vibrating hand. It's moving as fast as a sawblade - if he touches any of them with that, they're done for. "But I think you're right that I should just move on to the main event -"
Len shoots him with the cold gun he'd wrestled into position while the Man in Yellow was distracted by Len’s grammatical non-sequitur.
The Man in Yellow screams.
"Iris, Thawne, run!" Len shouts, keeping the cold blast aimed dead center at the Man in Yellow's face and torso. He'd theorized, based on what happened when it hit Barry, that a hit straight to the head would be disabling to a speedster as long as the beam was maintained; with such key areas targeted, the speedster's body would prioritize healing the damage over anything else, robbing them of the presence of mind they would need to either run away or attack.
"Come with us!" Iris shouts back.
Len centers his legs, which have started shaking, and exhales through his nose. He needs both hands to aim the gun properly - two hands, which leaves none for his crutches; that's why he's been using the braces whenever he's gone out as Captain Cold. Still, all that PT is finally coming in handy: even without crutches, he can stand.
But not for long.
The second he falls back to sit on the bed, his hands will slip, and the beam will drift off target - only by a little, only for a second, but that's all the Man in Yellow will need to escape.
If he tries to leave, he might be able to keep the beam on him until he reaches the door -
But there's one person in the room who can't leave.
"I ain't leaving Mick," he shouts back. "Get out of here! Find a place to hide!"
Even at superspeed, hiding would force the Man in Yellow to look for them - they certainly can't hope to outrun him.
"You get out too!" Mick snaps even as Iris nods jerkily and hurries out, urged on by Thawne. "Boss -"
"I ain't picking something over you again and that's final!"
"Damnit, Len -"
Len's legs give out.
The Man in Yellow darts out of the beam, snarling in rage, his face - and it does look like Wells under what little is left of that mask, or the pictures Len's seen of him - still covered in ice and burned by swiftly healing frostbite.
And then there's a swift wind.
Len closes his eyes, expecting to die so quickly that he doesn't have time to question it - or perhaps to be taken to be tortured, if that's more Wells' speed -
Heh, speed.
Wait a second.
He hasn't been moved - his side would've been protesting if he had - and he's not dead, because he feels moderately sure he wouldn't be around to continue sniggering at puns if he was.
He opens his eyes.
The room is empty.
Wells is gone -
- but so is Mick.
"Mick!" Len cries out, even though he knows it's futile. The Man in Yellow has him.
Wells has his Mick.
"Snart!" Iris cries out, bursting into the room. There are tears of terror and rage streaming down her cheeks. "Snart - he took Eddie! I saw him - the red lightning! He took Eddie!"
"He took Mick, too," Len says, barely able to process it. He just got Mick back - he just fucking got Mick back after nearly losing him to people who hurt Mick because of Len, and here it is, happening all over again.
Mick wouldn't have been a target to the Families if it wasn't for Len, and what he did and who he was.
Mick wouldn't have been a target to the Man in Yellow, if it wasn't for Len's investigation.
Mick -
Mick, who is still bedridden, who is still hospital-bound, who will die if he didn't have the treatment he needed -
Mick is gone.
27 notes · View notes
ryouverua · 6 years
Text
Chapter 5 Investigation (2)
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Are you telling me Shuichi is not the picture of silence and grace?
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LEAVE ME ALONE YOU CREEPY BEAR
1 is here
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 I.... I spent so much time moving slowly, with my heart just beating strongly against my chest - AND I’M NOT EVEN THE ONE THAT WAS IN DIRECT DANGER I DID THAT ALL FOR NOTHING
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Is it bad that I’m enjoying Shuichi getting progressively more flustered and angry as we go on?
it’s a guilty conscience - all those forbidden trysts are weighing on him -
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I KNEW IT!!! I KNEW IT!!! KOKICHI WAS GUARDING YOU WASN’T HE!!!
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Yeah, so he makes an interesting comment about making things a level playing field. Why? And it seems... a bit vague... like, is the other person that knows this information the culprit, or the mastermind?
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“You’re just attacking all of my flaws today, aren’t you.”
shuichi torrents old books and crime dramas pass it on
Now onto Maki’s lab, where to no one’s surprise we find the black bags with the crossbows one short. Could it possibly be the one from the bathroom? MAN I’m glad it’s Shuichi here so we’re not stuck wondering where the other could possibly be like we have video game-convenient amnesia
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And we’ve confirmed Himiko was seen bringing a black bag...
Ah, man, I’m beginning to wonder if both Himiko and Maki were roped into Kaito’s plan. Had Kaito really not fully gotten over his personal issues with Shuichi? Was he still a bit uncomfortable, or did he not want Shuichi to feel responsible if something went wrong?
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Are you putting together the same pieces I am, Shuichi? We had an awfully convenient scene with Kaito and Maki here a few nights ago!
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How many trips do you think it took Kaito to carry all those weapons to the gym. 8′D That’s what, two flights of stairs between the lab and the gym? Damn boy, guess your muscles haven’t atrophied after all!
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Shuichi how in the world did you notice that discrepancy in liquid! It’s minuscule!
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This... sounds like the perfect poison to tip a certain weapon’s arrows with. 8/
With that said, what was the poison bottle in the bathroom for, then? A red herring? But it was empty, right?
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Wait... wait wait wait - are those puns? For like, arsenic, hemlock and nightshade? 
*one google later*
OH STRIKE-9 IS STRYCHNINE! omg that’s actually really good 8′D Bless you translators, you’ve done good work here.
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So basically there’s one, maybe two poisons in play, and possibly antidotes in case something went awry? So... where’s the Strike-9 antidote? Or is there one?
I do like Shuichi making some of the connections for us, like him making the (most likely correct) assumption that for every poison we have, there should be an antidote. I feel like I haven’t shown my appreciation for his evidence and mystery-solving side recently - I will say this again, once, twice, twenty times, but when it comes to the technical bits of the mystery, he is fantastic. Motive and emotionally? Not so great at it - but I think that’s because that involves a lot more abstract thinking. This is where he really shines.
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So this is where we differ - he’s talking about how all the evidence points to Kaito being dead, and Kokichi being alive. I think that’s true on a surface level, but there’s a few key places that I may be ahead of him on that lead to a split in our thinking.
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Which brings me to this - I’m surprised he hasn’t made the connection about Kokichi not being the mastermind like I have - but I think that’s because I have an outsider’s perspective. Once that basic premise flips, things are going to get a whole lot more ambiguous!
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MY BOY!!! MY DEAR!!! MY SWEETCHEEKS!!!
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.... D... Did I miss something???
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You mean like EVERYTHING that was on the floor??
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I mean, unless he can activate the hatch of the red exisal with the remote? Maybe? He’s proven really good at hiding around the campus though, so who knows. 8′D maybe he’s in the exisal wash clinging to one of those giant brushes lmao
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But if he was... then we’d have to account for Kaito.
Unless they were both dead under there.
....
don’t you fucking do it DR.
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I... sort of... understand Shuichi’s feelings, only because he clearly cared for Kaito so much...
but on the other hand, what a cruel way for Tsumugi to put it. Not, “do you think Kaito is still alive,” but “do you think Kokichi died,” do you prefer it that way - the connotations are completely different.
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T.... Tsumugi... it may be best to stop talking now....
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I’m starting to wonder if she can act so calmly because he isn’t dead, and she knows it - but I’ll save those thoughts for the end.
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Kaito’s body is (probably) still warm Himiko, are you about to jump ship to Saiibo already??? 
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OH HOLY SHIT
(BUTT NAKED?!)
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What a brave, brave soul.
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Y-Yes but, um, er, what would you have done if it... hadn’t... been a clue...???
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Man, Shuichi’s first solo investigation since Chapter 1 when he discovered the mastermind’s door...
Actually, that might not be true. K1-b0 and Tsumugi have both been helping in small ways - well, K1-b0 much more than Tsumugi - so perhaps I can at least designate K1-b0 as his minor assistant in this chapter?
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OW -
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OW?!?!
Those are definitely the marks of a kid attacked by a crossbow!
So if they were both hit, then... was there a struggle? Kaito shot him, Kokichi managed to shoot him back? But if he was shot with two, and there was poison involved... would that be enough for Kaito to overcome him, illness and all?
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Dear lord Shuichi I know you want Kaito to be alive but don’t act so happy about Kokichi being dead!
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“MY NEW PARTNER!! AIBOU!!!”
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LMAO K1-B0 WEREN’T YOU THE ONE THAT PULLED IT OUT IN THE FIRST PLACE
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Yeah, now that’s the point I’m stuck on - though I do have a few ideas, one of them involving him being too weak to show himself at this point. 8(
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Oh Shuichi, you’ll get there soon. I feel like that’s going to be one of the first illusions we need to dispel going in.
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K1-b0 what in the world do you think Shuichi’s going to do in here?
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In painful, awkward silence.
AND OH SHIT, THAT’S IT! IT’S GO TIME, BABY!
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And whoever it is.... is going to have a lot of explaining to do. I mean seriously, that’s the thing I’ve been wondering - a lot of the issues have been dependent on not knowing who is dead. How can they maintain that mystery during the trial? Monokuma isn’t going to break his own rule for this - attendance is mandatory!
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WHELP -
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If.... If this is going where I think this is going... 
Man, I know you and Shuichi weren’t as close as you and Kaito, but would you be willing to throw him away so easily? I guess it’s easier when you know there’s nothing left outside of this place, but...
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With a murderous aura rolling off of her in waves, glowing blood-red eyes glittering under thick, dark bangs and venom lacing every word out of her mouth: “Don’t you see Shuichi? I am hope, personified.”
“U-Uh, um -”
“H O P E , P E R S O N I F I E D !”
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YIKES...
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“Collateral damage falls under the same big ‘hope’ umbrella tbh.”
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Who knew that Kaito would be the one acting as a sober second thought. Kaitoooooo we need yooooou D:
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SERIOUSLY WHY ARE YOU SO NERVOUS??? HOW MUCH DID YOU KNOW ABOUT KAITO’S PLANS WITH THE CROSSBOW???
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Oh Tsumugi, you always know just what to say. 8′/
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You are literally the only one with a peppy attitude right now, K1-b0! I guess robots really can’t read the mood
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“Well, I mean, they may have, but the word ‘hope’ kept cropping up so I blocked it all out.”
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Which means what, exactly? The world will still be reduced to ashes. There’s just a handful of you left. What is the point of victory now? 
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Now that’s an interesting thought. Hope as a burden...
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.... Aaaaw. Fair, but aaaw. :(
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SMASHES that fourth wall like it’s no big thing
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OMG they’re.... really not here?!?! Kokichi.... or Kaito???
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YOU WERE THE ONE WHO SAID EVERYONE HAD TO SHOW UP!!!
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“Look, only I’m allowed to make grandiose speeches about despair and hope, okay? ONLY ME!!”
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To think that after the last chapter’s events, Shuichi would be relying so strongly on his gut feeling, despite the evidence he collected pointing him in the opposite direction...
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THEY’RE PURPLE? W... We’re really going in without knowing then?!
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Alright, notes time!
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Oh man, which section do I begin with. Important facts of the case? The basics? We don’t even have an established victim, so...
Alright, location. Top left of the sheet, just to start things off, I wrote down the three important areas: the exisal bay, the bathroom (and window), and the open area in the hallway. There were supplies taken from the two different labs, but the majority of the action happened in those places.
Suspects... well, ruling out Shuichi, there’s Himiko, Maki, Tsumugi, and K1-b0 - but there’s also Kokichi and Kaito, depending on who died! Man! That does throw things off quite a bit, doesn’t it?
Now for the victim... well. Okay. I divided them into two sections, each with a yes or no column.
Kaito Momota - Victim?
Yes
Shirt sleeve was visible from the press
He was sick/unwell - an easy target to kill, and on top of that -
If he died, he wouldn’t be considered a person by the press and would be crushed without a problem (aka a callback to the K1-b0 scene)
No
Shirt sleeve was conspicuous
He got confirmed help from the outside via crossbow, if not more
His illness he has nothing to lose - that could give him strength, and it could also push him to kill someone and become the blackened for the ‘greater good’. If he’s going to die anyway, why not?
Kokichi Ouma - Victim?
Yes
Can’t be found
Monokuma is back and the killing game with it
His clothes were hidden, a stark contrast to Kaito’s visible clothing in the press, and had bloodstains
The power cord was cut to hid the body’s identity, which is strange considering the shirt sleeve situation
No
He was in control of everything. How did he get overthrown?
Just like with Gonta, I’ve circled my decision... I think Kokichi may be dead after all. Shit.
Before I go on though, some more important evidence outside of the hangar include the exisals being powered down and Maki’s hammer being at the scene of where they were circling Monokuma and Himiko being spotted bringing a crossbow to Kaito. I really think this is all pointing to a rescue attempt being staged last night, without everyone’s knowledge!
Right, so to add onto the ‘Kokichi is probably the victim’ hypothesis, I need to establish that he isn’t the mastermind because a lot of the evidence hinges on that (aka Monokuma’s return and the killing game being back). Honestly, seeing the exisal formation around Monokuma really made me confident in that - it really just seemed like they were guarding him, not protecting. Actually, with that in mind, the real mastermind has a very strong reason to want him dead! They would definitely help with the escape/coup effort with that in mind!
So... if it went something like this...
Kaito hears about the escape plan from Shuichi. Fully convinced that Kokichi is the mastermind along with the others and suddenly with his own motivation to move as fast as he can because he doesn’t want the others to risk themselves against Kokichi and the exisals, he formulates his own plan. Maki visits him - he asks her to bring him a crossbow from her lab. Or... Himiko, maybe. Either way, a decision is made by either Kaito alone or Maki, if it’s through her, to have Himiko bring him the bag because Maki skulking around would immediately raise Kokichi’s suspicions.
I think the crossbow bolts were tinged with poison, though? Would that be with or without Kaito’s knowledge? I can see Maki maybe doing that without Kaito knowing - I don’t know if he would aim to kill, even if the crossbow to Kokichi’s back suggests otherwise. I’m sure his aim is pretty poor either way. Maki does seem very intent on ‘killing the mastermind’ and the fact that it’s Kokichi is almost convenient for her, honestly. Kaito certainly wouldn’t want her to kill again, but if she can do it through him she’d be able to kill Kokichi without giving Kaito a chance to stop her, as well as take on the responsibility for his death... I don’t know. I might need to workshop that. 8′D
Anyway, there was definitely a scuffle of some sort - that’s the only way they would both have wounds. Honestly, the more I think about it, the more tragic it’s all becoming - it’s really starting to seem like Kokichi was trying to stop the game in his own strange way, but couldn’t find a way to do it without building up this huge target on his back - and now, just when he’d managed to steal control of the whole thing, Kaito may have killed him while making the exact same mistake as Kaede...
Ah, right - so I think I’ve been waiting for this moment where Kaito gets pushed off the pedestal of hero, but I shouldn’t be surprised he would do it in a way where he would think he was doing the right thing before getting the rug pulled out underneath him - he would take on the role of the culprit, the embodiment of the ‘self-sacrificing hero’, and die thinking he saved everyone, or even worse, die knowing he fucked up in his attempts to be a hero for Maximum Despair. ffffff
Any last things... oh, no matter the situation with the poison, Maki was definitely involved in that. I’m sure she was the one who brought the antidote just in case Kaito got himself poisoned. I also think she was the most involved third party - I don’t think Kaito would have the strength to bring Kokichi to the press by himself, and I can see Maki tampering with all the evidence after the fact like the cord for the press and the marks on the panel outside. Maybe she did a lot of the work with one of the exisals? But in order for her to enter in the first place, she would have to have someone on the inside to open the shutter for her, and if Kaito had fought Kokichi by that point he’d be able to do it. It would explain why she’s acting so cagey right now - she’s covering for him! Though... if Monokuma is back, would she risk everyone dying to save him? Does she think he doesn’t have the power to enact the punishment if his controller is dead (even if they really aren’t?).
With that said... I still... think... Kaito is the culprit, despite Maki’s involvement. Maki seems desperate to help him survive this (pushing that Kaito’s the culprit, continuously bringing up Kokichi despite Monokuma being a functional AI), but Kaito knows there’s no time left for him, and the whole reason he took the role on of culprit in the first place was because he knew that. Is the reason he hasn’t shown up because he’s too weak to appear at this point? ooooh boy oh boy oh boy, this is... bad.... W-What are they going to do when they figure out Kokichi wasn’t the mastermind......
Anyway, man we’ll see how much is right and how much is wrong - will this be right on like my conclusion with Gonta, or tragically, hilariously wrong like my attempt at guessing Korekiyo’s motive? still better than the game’s
oh right but if Kaito is still alive this is still relevant
STOP DEATHFLAGGING KAITO 2018!!!!!
ps
that theme of every character taking at least one second distinct role/alias/persona continues - I had said Kaito was wearing both his actual role of ‘Ultimate Astronaut’ and as well as his proclaimed role as ‘Hero’, but I think ‘Culprit’ will work just fine here.... 8′(
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saanphoenix · 6 years
Text
This goes out to @edwobcharlisle, who just really wanted Connor in booty shorts.
Disclaimer: There’s a lot of swearing and Reader has about the same emotional awareness as Connor, tbh.
Word Count: ~2400
You gasp for air as you chase after Connor. He’s hot on the tail of a suspect--burglary, caught on camera a few blocks back--while you… You’re not-so-hot on the tail of Connor. You’ve been trying to keep up, legs and side screaming at you for the injustice you’re putting them through, but you’ve missed a few...weeks...at the gym, so caught up in work as you’ve been. It shows. You should be faster than this. You’ve been faster than this. But now? Now you’re yards away, hyper focused on the flapping Android jacket of your temporary partner’s while you pray he doesn’t take to jumping over any fences or taking any hairpin turns because you--
Connor hangs a right, down another alley. The action is precise. No doubt calculated to use his momentum to his advantage.
You have to grab hold of the brick wall to slingshot yourself around before you slam into a dumpster. The flesh it scrapes off your hand doesn’t feel too good but you make do. Everything else is burning, what’s one more thing?
The moment your eyes land on the chain link fence in the near distance you cringe. You can make it over. It’ll slow you down even more, and you won’t like it, but you can do it.
Thankfully, you don’t have to. The suspect slows in preparation of his climb and Connor, not needing to do such a human thing, keeps going. The man grunts as Connor collides with his back, tackling him to the ground.
“Man, get offa me!” The guy wheezes, Connor’s knee in his back. You fall beside them. Grabbing a hold of the suspect’s arms, with Connor’s assistance, you put him in cuffs. “I didn’t do anything!”
“Yeah, that’s why you ran,” you sass, breathless.
“Because you were chasing me!”
“We have you on camera,” Connor replies. He doesn’t flounder nearly as much as you do when the suspect tries to throw both of you off. “There’s no point in lying.”
Cuffs secure, you step back and let Connor haul the guy to his feet. There’s fight left in him, but the vice grip Connor has on his arm and the intense stare he gives keep the man in check. Connor may be a deviant--hell, all androids are now, technically--but that doesn’t detract from how robotic he can seem at times, like a machine hellbent on completing its task. A machine you don’t want to cross.
“Fuck you! That wasn’t me.”
Connor clearly isn’t convinced. After all, you know Connor can identify anyone with a quick face scan. There’s no way in hell this guy isn’t the burglar. Unless he has a twin who was wearing the same exact outfit and who just so happened to be in the same area at the same time.
You roll your eyes. “Save it for the station.”
“Don’t I get rights?”
“No--”
“You have the right to remain silent,” Connor interrupts. “Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand the rights I have just read to you?”
The suspect glares at him.
“With these rights in mind, do you wish to speak to me?”
“Fuck. You. I’m not talking to no fucking cop, and certainly not an android.”
Connor ignores the dig. You scoff and shake your head. “C’mon, let’s get this asshole back to the car.”
“I ain’t--”
“Either move your damn feet or we’ll drag you,” you snap. “You’ve done made me chase you across Hell an’ half o’ Georgia. I don’t have the patience for your stupid temper tantrum. Maybe next time you decide to steal something, make sure there’s no cameras, asshole!”
The man huffs at you, mouth set in a pissed-off frown, but as Connor tugs on his arm, he follows.
Back at the station, burglar in his cell and waiting for his public defender, you plop into your chair. It used to be Hank’s chair, but with the lieutenant on administrative leave it’s yours until he gets back. Whenever Fowler decides that’s going to be.
You scrub at your face with your hands.
“Something wrong?” Connor asks you. When you peek through your fingers at him, he explains, “You’re usually not this upset after catching one of the bad guys.”
You sigh and lean back, hands plopping into your lap. “It’s just… I’m tired. And I shouldn’t be. I ran for a few minutes and I feel like an old man. No offense to Hank.” Connor smiles, a quick twitch of his lips, and lets you continue. “I was way too far behind you. What if something had happened?”
“Nothing happened.”
“What if something had?” You stress. “I wouldn’t have been able to get to you in time. I’m too damn slow. And the kicker is, I used to not be!”
“I do recall you being able to keep up with me that morning we went jogging together.” He’s teasing you. You can tell by the inflection in his voice and the subtle expression on his face.
You snort. “You sure you didn’t just slow down so I could keep up with you?” When Connor cheekily doesn’t respond, you fake offense, gasping dramatically. “Connor, how could you! You know I can’t improve if you sabotage me like that!”
“I did no such thing,” Connor replies smoothly. He nods, face contemplative. “If anything, this just proves you let yourself go.”
“Ouch. Twist the knife a little more, why don’tcha?” You sigh. “But you’re right. I haven’t worked out in forever. I know I should’ve, but paperwork upon paperwork upon interviews… Time flies.” You nod to him. “You’re lucky you don’t have muscles to atrophy.”
“I am.” He sits down on the corner of your desk, head tilted to the side. He’s scheming. You can’t guess what until he opens his mouth again. “Why don’t we go to the gym?”
“What? Now?”
He shrugs. “Our shift’s almost over. They’ll have someone else interview the suspect we caught. I don’t see why we couldn’t.”
Until now, you’d been under the impression you were going to go home after work to ruminate on your physical shortcomings some more, but the longer you stare into Connor’s eyes the quicker that plan fades from your mind to be replaced by Connor’s suggestion.
To hell with it. You’re feeling spontaneous. “Yeah, alright.” You stand up from your chair, only too late realizing doing so has put you soundly in Connor’s space. He doesn’t seem to mind, but you find it a little unnerving to have him looking up at you with his head so close to your chest. You turn to reach for your keys, using the action as an excuse to give you both some room.
You step back to free him from the confines of your desk and he hops off to join you. You hold up your hand. He stops, curious.
“Before we go, I need to go home and change. This--” you motion down to your work clothes, “--is not good for sweating in.” You pause and consider his own attire. “And you should probably do the same.”
He frowns. “Why? I don’t sweat.”
You huff a laugh, “Yeah, but it was awkward enough jogging along with a guy wearing a suit jacket and a tie. And I’ve definitely never seen someone wear such an outfit to the gym. Shorts and a tank-top? Athletic wear? Yes.” You smile fondly at the pout Connor gives you. You can see he understands what you’re getting at, he just finds it foolish since it’s not practical to him. “You’ll stick out like a sore thumb, trust me. If you don’t have anything, I’m sure Hank could help.”
“He’s not home.”
“How do you--”
“I know his schedule.”
“Right.”
“I’ll think of something,” Connor dismisses. He smiles at you. “I’ll meet you there.”
“Okay.” You make it two steps away before you turn around and frown at him. “You know where my gym is?”
Connor’s smile morphs into a smirk. “I noticed the card in your wallet.”
“You went through my wallet?” You accuse.
“I saw it when you purchased donuts this morning.”
You nod slowly. “Is there anything you don’t notice?”
“There’s a few things.” He teases with a hint of truth.
It takes you about a half-an-hour to arrive at the gym, what with the drive home, change of outfit, and drive there. You expect Connor to already be there but he’s not. You don’t let the fact bother you too much, chalking it up to him having trouble choosing an outfit. Instead, you set your sights on a treadmill near the back. The TV above it plays the news. You wish you had access to the remote. Nothing is less motivating than the sorry state of the world.
When you finally see Connor enter the building in the mirrors you’re facing, you nearly fly off the treadmill. You turn the machine off hurriedly and spin around to gawk at the android as he spots you and begins to walk towards you.
You’re not the only one who’s noticed him. Damn near everyone in the gym has, some in confused disgust and others with hints of approval. You wonder if any of them know he’s an android, lack of LED making him appear completely human. A fact that might be awkward to some of the ones giving him more appreciative looks.
“What in God’s name are you wearing?” You breathe as he stops before you.
The smile he’s wearing slips as he blinks and tilts his head. The disbelief in your voice causes him to frown. “You said shorts and a tank-top or athletic wear.”
“Wah-- Uh-- Pff.” You reply eloquently.
Shorts. You’d said shorts, not booty shorts. Black booty shorts and a salmon-colored tank top. Connor is a disaster. A good-looking disaster but a disaster nonetheless.
At your silent gawking, he asks, “What’s wrong with my choice?”
You tear your eyes away from his legs and try to remember that his eyes are in his face and that that’s where most people talk to during a conversation. You immediately regret your decision because now you’re faced with a choice--risk hurting his feelings or let him feel good about himself.
“Nothing,” you squeak. You clear your throat. “Nothing. It’s just, uh, you have some really nice legs. Great form. Cute moles.” If you resemble a deer in the headlights it’s only because now you’re wondering if you’re flirting or not and if that’s a good idea.
Connor regards you and you get the feeling he’s just as unsure about your intentions as you are. He recovers quickly, however. “Thank you,” he replies. “They were designed in a lab.”
The joke effortless releases the tension and you can’t help but grin. “Yeah, well, mine were designed by my parents, so.”
“CONNOR!”
Both of you flinch at the very loud shout of Hank’s. You look in horror to the front door Hank’s just entered in.
The man’s wearing an old hoodie and some equally well-worn shorts, a small bag dangling in his loose grip. His slack-jawed look moves from Connor’s face to his legs to his face to you and back to Connor’s legs again. He gestures with his free hand towards the android.
“What the hell are you wearing?!”
Connor’s shoulders slump as he looks from the lieutenant back to you. He’s pouting again, no doubt frustrated and annoyed at the fact the two humans that he’s spent the most time around don’t seem to like his clothes for some unnamed reason.
You put your hand on Connor’s shoulder as Hank comes stomping over and wordlessly convey that you’ve got this. You’ll take one for the team.
“I’m sorry, Hank.” You apologize. “I wanted to work out, Connor volunteered to accompany me, but he didn’t have any clothes, so… I gave him some of my old ones.” You can feel Connor’s gaze on the side of your face but you maintain eye contact with Hank. You have to sell the lie.
“So you gave him booty shorts?” Hank demands.
“Well--”
Hank turns his attention to Connor. “Why didn’t you just ask me for some clothes?”
“You said you weren’t going to be home,” he defends.
“Because I was coming here!”
“...Oh.” Connor shakes his head. “I’ve never known you to go to a gym.”
Hank sighs. “That’s because I haven’t had the energy. Still don’t. But I’m never gonna get the energy if I don’t get off my ass and do somethin’. And being on leave’s just making me stir crazy.” He shrugs. “I figured, ‘What the hell?’” He scoffs. “But now I gotta see everyone in the joint making goo-goo eyes at my partner.”
You reach out, slap Hank on the shoulder, and ignore the affronted look he gives it. “Aw, don’t worry Hank. I’m sure with a little time and effort, you’ll be able to rock some booty shorts yourself, and then everyone’ll make goo-goo eyes at you.”
“Oh, fuck you,” is Hank’s immediate response. He throws his hands up. “You two can wear all the Daisy Dukes you want. Leave me out of it.”
You lean conspiratorially over to whisper loudly to Connor, “The lady doth protest too much, methinks.”
Connor leans his head down closer to yours to do the same. “He does seem a bit jealous.”
“Is that so?” Hank questions. He then flips both of you off and turns on his heel to walk away. He walks clear across the room to a free weightlifting machine, plops his bag down, and sits. With a cheerful smile, he waves to the two of you and then proceeds to flip you off a second time.
“Ah. Good ol’ Hank.” You turn your smile up to Connor. Your breath catches as you realize how close his face is to yours. Just like earlier, he doesn’t seem to mind. Just like earlier, you smother the feeling that comes with that knowledge. “Seriously, though. The shorts are growing on me. You should wear them more often.”
Connor smirks. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
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Survey #291
“clothes trailing from the backdoor, to the bedroom, and i don’t even know your name.”
What was the last health scare you had? So I got blood tests done recently to check multiple things, and I got pretty nervous when my doctor stood beside me going through the numbers and what they meant. I was afraid she was going to tell me I had diabetes (runs in the fam, and my diet hadn't been great) or something, but I was fine. What is your favorite food to cook? Something in the microwave lmao. Do you listen to bluegrass music? Ew. What was the last novel you read about? Well it' s part of a series so it'd be hard to explain briefly... but dragons. That'll do ig, lol. If there is a tree right outside your window, what kind is it? There's a small one. Idk what it is. What is your favorite filling for a piece of chocolate? Caramel. What is your favorite thing to draw? If you take a look at my work history... I apparently love drawing meerkats screaming for one reason or another lmao. Do you like abstract art? Not very much. There are of course exceptions to this, but it's definitely not my favorite and sometimes doesn't even feel like "art" to me. Would you ever want to be a painter? No. My Painting course in school taught me it's too damn stressful, the idea of messing up. Even though it's technically fixable. There's just a lot about painting I don't like. I'd much rather draw and color traditionally. What is your passion? Some of my biggest consists of gay rights (or really just equal rights as a whole), meerkats, pacifism, photography, just art in general, stuff like that. I feel things very deeply, so there's really a lot. What fascinates you? NATURE!!!!!!! SO MUCH ABOUT IT!!!!!!!!! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! Do you have art on your walls? In my room, I have three of my meerkat projects on the wall with my meerkat collection, and my Pyramid Head/Halo of the Sun overlap drawing is with my Silent Hill stuff. What kind of collection would you like to start? I have a decent amount of stuff, but I really would love to pump up my SH collection. It has SO much merch that I would die for, stuff is just mad expensive. If I was to start a new collection, bitch I need Markiplier stuff so bad, I'm too awkward to ask for that shit for holidays 'n stuff. ;;_;; Do you enjoy the sound of birds chirping? I sure do. If you had the money, would you travel the world? I feel like I'd go to less locations than most people you could ask this question, but I'd definitely go places, yeah. If you could travel the world, which country would you want to go to first? South Africa. Make my meerkat dreams come true. :') Do you get drunk? I haven't before, and I don't actually aim to when I drink (which is very rare) and I'm apparently no lightweight, so I doubt I ever will. Don't feel like I'm missing out, honestly. Do you get high? Nah. Have you ever used a prescription medication to get high? No. Does sunlight make you happier? Guys. This is science. I used to hate the sun so much, but it's good for you. Open your windows on a clear day; your body will thank you. It takes getting used to, but please, don't coop yourself up in the dark. Do you live a boring life? My life is excruciatingly boring. Like not to sound depressing, but half the time I wish I wasn't even alive because I'm so bored lmao. Have you ever gotten soap in your mouth for cursing? Do you think that’s right to do to kids who curse? No, but it's been threatened upon me. I don't support it, no, but then again I don't believe in traditional "profanity." My hypothetical four-year-old could say "that fucking hurt" in our own household, and just a simple word indicating (s)he was really in pain wouldn't faze me for a blink. I do believe out of respect though, that you should educate your children when "profanity" isn't allowed, like in school and such. You don't shove potentially toxic shit into your kid's mouth to teach them something. What age do you think is appropriate for kids to start watching horror movies with lots of gore? This definitely depends on the child. Are they spooked easily? How mature are they? Do they understand what's not to be replicated? It would vary with the film, too. Do you have any wind chimes outside your house? How many? No, but I'd love to. Wind chimes are great. Do you have a flat stomach? Would you ever wear a belly shirt to show it off? I hate my stomach more than I do any other part of my body, so guess. Would you ever get a sleeve or a half sleeve on your arm (we’re talking about tattoos)? omfg hell YES Do you think your biological parents love each other? They're long-divorced and Dad's been remarried for a long time while Mom only has negative shit to say about him, so like... What's one movie you’re dying to see but haven’t had the chance to see yet? *Dying* to, I don't know if one exists. Birds of Prey probably tops my want-to-see list, though. Harley moving past Joker? Girl you fuckin go ilu. What’s the biggest promise someone’s ever made to you? Did they keep it? To never leave me because of my illnesses. Nope, he sure didn't. Does thunder & storms scare you? Nah, not usually. It's funny, I was TERRIFIED of them as a kid, especially if I wasn't with my mom, but now I find them beautiful and sometimes even relaxing. Now, wind, I fucking hate wind. I associate bad winds with tornadoes, so fuck outta here w/ that. Google, Bing, or Yahoo? Google. Do you sing in front of people? NO. Who are you the most uncomfortable around? Groups of older men. Are your parents overprotective? No. A recent creation that you’re proud of? I took family pictures for a repeat client recently, and I'm really happy with how some came out. Who’s your favorite comedian? Living, I'm unsure. It was John Pinette. What makes you squeamish? Vomit and fecal matter top the list. Do you have any online friends that you wanna keep, but not meet? Maybe a couple that I don't know too well? Should cloning ever be allowed to happen? No. I see a lot of potential problems with that should it become a serious thing. Who would you live with if you got kicked out tomorrow? Probably my dad. What’s a pet your parents never let you have when you were a kid? A snake. I was eventually allowed though obviously, and now Mom loves Venus, though she won't hold her. Who do you wish you could change, if anyone? It's not my job to change anyone else. You have to want to change. Has your house ever been broken into? No, but my childhood home almost was by a gang. My older sister and her best friend were home alone at the time. Thank fuck they didn't get in, but they left a gang flag on our porch. Would you consider yourself a good flirt? I have no idea. What color do you wear most often? You mean to tell me black isn't the only primary color in people's wardrobes? Do you like your hair? Disregarding the fact it gets oily way too fast, yes. Have you ever driven while under the influence? No, I would absolutely never. Did you enjoy your last kiss? Yeah. Would you ever take boudoir photos for a significant other? (or have you?) Considering I literally love boudoir, I would if I didn't hate the fuck outta my body and would be too embarrassed to ever do it. What is your biggest guilty pleasure? Maybe makeup guru channels lmaooo. What is a movie that you thought you would hate but actually ending up enjoying? I'm unsure. I don't really go into watching a movie I think I'll hate, especially when I watch so few movies to begin with. Do you like where you live? I'm not a fan of the suburbs, but it's a better place than where we were. Are you a jealous person? I'm learning that apparently I might be, at least sometimes. Is there anyone you want to fix things with? There are a few. Last time you walked further than a block? I couldn't tell you. I walk a few feet (that's not an exaggeration) and am in pain because of the muscle atrophy in my legs. Is it easy for you to accept loss? NO. NUH-UH. NOPE. Do you get dessert normally while out to eat? No. Who was your first kiss? Jason, my first "real" boyfriend. Have you ever found a stray dog & found its owners? Not that I recall. Would you ever tell your mom about the things you’ve done sexually? Not everything, no. When was the last time you told someone you love them? Last night. Who was the last person you talked to last night in person before bed? Ma. When was the last time that you were genuinely happy? Good damn question. Have you ever dyed your hair? Plenty of times. Have you ever fallen asleep with the last person you kissed? Yeah. When was the last time you changed in front of someone? I don't know; when you hate your body enough, you'll do a lot to avoid that. Last person you kissed, have you cried in front of them? Yes. Ever dated someone who was gorgeous but they had a conceited personality? No. A conceited asshole is the last kind of person I'm dating. Would you prefer a kiss on the cheek or neck? Well I mean what's the vibe lmao Do you like to cuddle? Yeah, if we're a close couple and it's not too hot. Have you ever suspected anyone of cheating on you? Nah. Could you ever be friends with the person who hurt you most in life? I wish we could, but even if he was willing, I don't think "friendship" is possible between us. What is something “cheesy” that you own? Ha, I have this feminine-looking "she believed she could so she did" wall decor thing... I can't remember if I bought it or if it was gifted. What is something that gets your creative juices flowing? MUSIC!!! What drink are you most likely to order at a bar? Some kind of margarita. What is the most interesting class that you took in high school or college? Mythology, I guess? When was the last time that you’ve ever played Spin the Bottle? I never have to begin with. If you were an adult film star or a stripper, what would your stage name be? I can't even try to entertain this question. Even if I WANTED to be one, I would never be hired. I couldn't seriously think of a name. Have you ever wanted to be a cheerleader? No, not even when I was one as a kid lmao. Have you ever been dumped? What was the reason for it? Yeah. The first one, he couldn't handle my depression anymore. With my last partner, we kinda had a mutual agreement that to save us from potential later heartbreak, we needed to work more on ourselves right now. What was the last R-rated movie you watched? Hm. Idk. Have you ever asked someone out? Yes. Have you ever had lice? No. What is the most childish thing that you still do? I mean, with RP, you could argue that I still "play pretend." Have you ever watched a movie you knew you shouldn’t? As a kid, I'm pretty sure I was not supposed to see whatever Scary Movie film it was when I did, aha. Have you ever wanted to try LARP (Live Action Role-Play)? Nah. I'm awkward enough explaining I just write it. If you could go back in time and erase one thing you said or did, what would it be? The "thanks for sending me to the hospital" message to Jason. Has your boyfriend or girlfriend ever embarrassed you? Jason did before, if we're counting past partners. Have you ever thought about cheating on your partner? I never thought of that in any relationship, no. Have you ever been caught checking someone out? Not to my recollection. Not that I even do that much. Have you ever cried because you missed your parents so much? Oh, absofuckinglutely as a little kid. I had BAD separation anxiety from my mom. Have you ever posted something on social media that you regret? OH BOY HAVE I!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Have you ever ding dong ditched someone? No. Which is worst: Snakes, scorpions, or spiders? I adore snakes. Some spiders scare me, especially if they catch me by surprise. Scorpions aren't native here, so I've actually never come across one, so I'd probably be more curious than frightened. Is there an attic and/or a basement in your house? An attic, yeah. Have you ever been bitten by a tick? Has anyone not? Well, I suppose this depends on your environment. Playing outside in the country as a kid a lot, and especially walking through tall grass to reach fishing spots with Dad, I've had lots. I'm terrified of parasites so those were never fun times. What color is your mom’s car? White. Have you ever had a bird or a squirrel in your house? No. How high off the ground is your bed? The average, ig. What is the cutest breed of dog? That's such a hard question, but I think I tend to lean towards pugs, though I don't support breeding them or any other type that is a medical catastrophe. What is something other people say you’re good at but you think you’re not? Holding a conversation. I call BS. What does your bedside lamp look like? It's a creamy color with a floral design. It was already here at the house when we moved in. Do you like your neighbors? I don't know them. Does your room need to be cleaned? I need to finish decorating it... and dust the dresser. What was the last bug you saw? Ugh, a fucking ant. This house has had an ant problem before, and now they're showing up in my room here and there. Do you place any value in gender roles? Literally zero. Are your platonic relationships just as valuable as romantic or family ones? Well, I suppose it would depend on the person. How strong is that platonic relationship? Are you in love? Do you want to be? I don't think *in* love anymore, no; I reasoned myself out of that. I think most people WANT to be in the name of companionship, and being a pretty hopeless romantic, your wild guess would probably be right. Would you be happy with a life without romance? I'd live. Are you religious? Do you think your religion is ‘correct’? No. If you aren’t religious, do you wish you were? Why? Nope. Religion only ever brought me confusion, pain, and frustration. Are your choices fated or of your own free will? I am very much a believer in free will and that you sculpt your own fate. Was your childhood happy? For the most part. What are you missing from your life? Excitement. Would you fight for your country? Do you feel a sense of loyalty to your nation? No. And if my country did something fucked up, I wouldn't stand with the masses just because I live here. What’s the latest YouTube channel you’ve discovered and binge-watched? Snake Discovery, like, hardcore. Does it snow where you live? Every now and then, but it's super rare for the snow to stick, and it's maybe even rarer that we get a good or fun amount. Do you think your hair looks better long or short? UGGGGHHHHHH I AM SO MUCH HAPPIER W/ SHORT HAIR. Do you enjoy editing photos on your phone? Not really on my phone, no. I don't have good image quality on my phone, so editing tends to make it worse. What’s your favorite thing to do on your phone? Play Pokemon GO if I'm actually in a place with spawns. Which season do you wish would last longer? Sigh, autumn. At least here, the colorful phase is pretty short. It's like... green leaves one day, a beautiful display for a week, then the trees are bare. It's still my favorite season, though. Do you have neat handwriting? Yeah. Did you dream of becoming famous as a kid? Nah. Do you get on Facebook every day? Pretty much. What was your favorite girl group when you were growing up? Spice Girls, duh. Would you ever consider naming a child after a family member? No. I've got nothing against people who do, but I've just never seen the appeal of it at all. I would want my hypothetical child to have their completely own identity.
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