#he gets flustered around April May and does this in the same case
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feralforbeanix · 7 months ago
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Good to know Phoenix likes old man yaoi
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hanakobound · 5 years ago
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yandere!hanako headcanons? 7w7 good luck with your blog hun♡ i already like your writing♡
yandere hanako headcanons!
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A/N: Another Anon! Thank you so much!  ୧꒰*´꒳`*꒱૭✧ Anything that comes from you is worth appreciating. There are no warnings around this one (since I didn’t include anything violent, but sometime I might just add more to this… I enjoyed writing this one, too! I hope you like it!)
Hanako as a yandere… He doesn’t seem like the type who would overdo anything. At least, that’s how it appears like to him.
He can be possessive of you and you won’t even realize it, not until Kou pointed out how Hanako’s been wanting you to spend more time in the girls’ bathroom. He would ask you to clean his boundary for him, even though you were sure that the place was spotless.
Hanako doesn’t even need to reason out with you. He can easily persuade you into staying with him because he’s also aware of how you see him as. It’s not like he’s using you or your feelings for him, it’s more on of a coping mechanism.
The more he spends time with you, the better. He’s not the type to be the cause of someone else’s injury, but if he has to, he doesn’t hesitate when it comes to threatening the other students who may cause harm towards you. Hell, he doesn’t even let a student talk about you without them getting punished.
Believe me, when I say this, he will always take the chance of having to be close to you. Hugging you out of nowhere, suddenly getting all touchy with you as he squishes your cheeks in pure adoration, and even having to play with your hair while you were in the middle of a class when you’re 100% against it…Are you?
Whether or not he was your type, it’s not like you have any other choice. You’ve shared the same fate with Hanako since you’ve asked him to grant that human wish. To him, it was like he sealed the fate he has with you by sharing the mermaid’s curse. He could care less if any handsome prince suddenly fell from the sky and took you.
Since, you know, he made sure to prepare if something like that DID happen… He doesn’t want to use violence unless it’s needed. If he has to, well, it’s unfortunate for the one he’s on a match with.
There are cases where he would tease you on purpose — He would suddenly place a kiss on your cheek, sometimes even pull you in for a hug when you least expect it and even knock you off your daydreams when he tries to bother you in class — because he likes to see your flustered or embarrassed reaction.
I mean, what’s not to love about the sight of his special someone — his destined another half — blushing? Completely shy as they start to stutter on incoherent ramblings, he would find himself grinning since he enjoyed teasing you so much.
Just because he doesn’t seem like the type to harm someone without a warning, doesn’t mean he doesn’t get jealous. Believe me, he does, and he has a hard time trying to stop himself from snapping so suddenly.
Just having you stand beside Kou gets him all whiny and he would playfully push him away. (From what he makes it appear to be… Kou didn’t want to let you know, but Hanako’s been protective over you lately.)
What makes you think he’d say yes to you having these so-called dates with your upperclassmen where they would just leave you in the middle of tasks? Once you step into Hanako’s bathroom, you need to find a better reason to get out.
He’s protected you throughout your life, given you joy more than you’d ever admit, even though he was annoying and clingy. Hanako will never let you go, no matter what, and you won’t realize if it was out of love or obsession.
Last updated: April 02, 2020
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sextonsharpwinhalstead · 4 years ago
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Finally caught up on Med...
I have to say they are still on their bullshit but for the first time in I don’t know how many seasons the show feels like it’s moving towards something big as in the finale would be huge.
Every single character feels like they have some kind of growth or that they are moving towards something bigger, there’s definitely a momentum that I can’t quite put my finger on. There are so many moving parts and stories and for the first time since season 1 I actually feel some of the familial/friendly feels that they used to have.
Maggie has a real story, and we got backstory about a baby girl she gave up for adoption when she was a teenager who she has decided to actively look for! And how did we find this out? I wish that I could say it was something she disclosed to Natalie but it was to Sharon. This still backs up what I’ve said in the past that they aren’t as close as the show tells us they are (Maggie + Natalie). When Maggie needs to open up and get vulnerable it’s with Sharon, Will, or some of the nurses like April and Monique. But it���s not a shit on Natalie moment, she asks and offers to be there for Maggie more than we’ve seen in a while. I just wonder why Maggie doesn’t open up to her...like really open up.
Speaking of opening up I really like that all of the doctors are seeing Daniel, it allows for a lot of missing interpersonal communication that has been severely lacking in past seasons. I also love that issues like Ethan’s PTSD haven’t been forgotten. Daniel’s sessions with the characters feels more organic this season, the conversations aren’t written off a cliff and he always follows up and touches on issues that they spoke about in the past. It may seem small but it’s big thing for Med to keep the continuity going.
Sharon was MIA for the first few episodes but having her back once again feels organic, her story doesn’t feel shoehorned even though I’m sure some see it as “a lot” it feels right. I hope that there is a resolution with her son going forward and she isn’t caught in the middle much longer with his ambitions and her duty to the hospital.
Daniel’s custody battle is wild to me considering that I’m still in the middle of writing “Let Me Re-Introduce Myself” and I have him losing custody there too. Albeit for different reasons lol. I’m not a huge fan of Anna, I hope that Daniel gets a chance to be a good dad to her, with maybe a Robin sighting somewhere in the mix.
The show has managed to discuss and incorporate Owen more than they have in the last three seasons and I think that’s really cool. Natalie gets to be a mom and I think that’s needed for her character’s growth. I’m still really annoyed that they wrote her taking all these huge risks with her career last season just to have her leaning on Crockett every two seconds. That’s one of my biggest gripes with their writing of her. When she was closer and even in a relationship with Will it was the same. They were always on cases together and she was always getting a second opinion i.e second guessing herself. I don’t like that for the ONLY female doctor on the show. They are the only thing that feels sequestered and like the “old Med.”
The Crockett-Natalie relationship to me is manufactured chemistry which is this case for almost all the ships on the show. They write what they want, because screen tests are not a thing anymore. I like that he finally has someone to open up to and he has a place to finally be vulnerable. I don’t think any of this is meant to last. If this is the season for continuity than we cannot forget that Crockett watched Phillip slip a ring on Natalie’s finger and didn’t say shit...that will always be a yuck spot for me.
Manstead is DEAD in the water right now. But the Crockett-Natalie ship feels like Jeff and Natalie. She is like “yeah sure....maybe” I just don’t buy it for longevity. Crockett is going to end up hurt before she finds her way back to Will. And speaking of Will...
Will is criming every episode. Like the way this dude is head-on backsliding into the illegal nonsense, from giving/taking bribes to unblinding the study and then lying to Virani about it...this is building into something really awful guys. And also, what in the world is going on with the Virani-Will-Ethan weirdness. I think Virani is fond of Will maybe even a little attracted to him but she is flustered around Ethan. I don’t know if he is ready to move on but when he does, I could definitely see her going out with him. What’s odd is that the show after like two seasons finally has Will working with April and with the proximity to Ethan and Virani and all the clashing Will and Ethan have had this season...I don’t know where this is going...nowhere good though.
Ethan is a the best fit for Chief. I’m so grateful that we still see Lanik, I can’t get on board with them calling him Jim...that is a white guy manning the grill at some random neighborhood barbeque. I’d rather them call him James. Anyway we all saw the drill sergeant coming a mile away. I knew he was going to be crazy. I didn’t expect him to be stupid. He had gallbladder surgery and then came to work? C’mon dude. However, I feel like that was Ethan’s second biggest misstep the first was hiring Dr. Archer. Guys, he gives me DARK vibes. Like, Gwen and Jimmy, and Ava, and even Cornelius NEVER had the creep-factor that this guy has. There is something malevolent and downright violent about him. I don’t know if it’s the actor or just his portrayal of the character but I feel like at his most benign he would sue the hospital for wrongful termination, cause lets face it he is not going to make it at Med, or he is going to do something that is really awful. I could be wrong and maybe I’m channeling that feeling into a fic but I got my eye on that one.
And last but not least, April. I worried that she wasn’t going to get much to do and would go back to being a supportive character this season. When she isn’t in a ship she is completely ignored. But they haven’t been so terrible with her. I do feel like they could’ve written something a little bit more articulate about why the Covid-Unit was so important to her. Like we as an audience know April is empathetic but I wanted to hear what that felt like for her, maybe tie back into some of the things she’s given up for this job. I absolutely did not miss her saying that she felt like she was apart of something bigger and that “Ethan took that from me.” It felt like what she was saying had some double meaning, Ethan ending the engagement and ending their relationship as well as her saying he was his own worst enemy felt oddly therapeutic and somewhat foreshadowing of what’s to come. It’s clear that they still have feelings for each other. I just hoped for once that there had been a little more attention given to why she felt such a huge purpose from that work. I’m glad that she is helping with the trial. I have more Sexstead gif opportunities than ever before! Did anyone notice that scene was in the promo pics between her and Will and where she’s crying were deleted? I really want to know what happened, because those tears look like a patient she was closed to died or she was falling apart at the idea of not being apart of the trial anymore.
All the same this season isn’t that bad. What I’m  not crazy about I can tolerate and for once I’m curious to see what they are going to do going forward.
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devilrising · 5 years ago
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Fallen Draco, Pt. 7
This story follows a prompt by @mymindsmadness
Summary: AU where Draco is a fallen angel, and the way he gets his wings back is by guiding Harry in defeating Voldemort, but it all goes wrong when Draco starts falling in love with Harry.
Word Count (Part 7): 3,634
Word Count (Total): 21,794
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Mentions of abuse/torture (non-graphic), this part also includes semi-graphic discussion of past torture.
***
12th April, 1998 (continued)
The walk to wherever it is we are going is draining. Having not left the house in a while, I blink a couple of times at the street in front of me. Somehow, I forgot where we are. I forgot that I am staying with Harry Potter, in a dingy street in muggle London. I worry about my appearance. But not in the way I would’ve used to. It’s not the vain, arrogant concern I had earlier this year, but rather being terrified of standing out. If someone caught a glimpse of my white-blond hair, or the distasteful and regretful tattoo inked across my arm, I would be in trouble. But as we pass an abandoned house with the windows still in tact, I glimpse my reflection. Somehow, I had managed to forget that I am covered head to toe in Glamours. Forgot that my platinum hair is now strawberry blonde, and that my tattoo is invisible underneath red skin.
“Where are we going?” Not where are you taking me? Like it would’ve been a week ago. Before I realised he thought of us as equal. As my deserving to be an equal. I shudder and hope it’s not noticeable.
“A bookstore.”
“A bookstore?” I turn my gaze to the man—no longer a boy, despite his young age—and raise an eyebrow. “That seems kind of random.”
“It’s a special bookstore,” he shrugs. I hold my laugh in, choosing to hide from his gorgeously green eyes. He hasn’t wrapped himself in Glamours like I have. Instead of the cropped sandy-brown I’ve become used to seeing in public, his black hair is hanging loose around his ears. It looks good on him. Oh Merlin.
“What’s so special about it?”
He turns to me, his hand slipping from mine and grabbing my shoulder to make me face him. All for the people who may or may not be watching. Keeping up appearances. “It has books you won’t, you can’t, find anywhere. If you catch what I’m saying.”
I think I understand. Well, it could be one of two things… “Please tell me it’s the former,” I murmur.
“What?”
“Nothing.” I shake my head. Thinking out loud now too? What is happening to me? Aside from the obvious bone-wing thing.
It starts to rain softly as we walk, but eventually Potter drags me into a little shop in a quaint street. It’s a lot bigger inside than I would’ve thought, and I think of Undetectable Extension charms. The walls are coloured a soft off-white, and the carpet underfoot is a light grey. The whole shop is warm and cozy, welcome despite being the middle of spring. Rows and rows of bookshelves fill the room. There are paper-bound books, leather-bound, and hardcovers. Books that cover every topic imaginable. Some are clearly muggle, with science books explaining the world as well as their range of history. And then there’s books called ‘fantasy’ which seem to be mocking the Wizarding World and twisting it. But muggles don’t know about our world, so maybe they made these all up?
“Draidan?”
I’m pulled from my thoughts by a hand on my shoulder. Shaking my head, I look up and see Potter and a woman with light brown hair staring at me. “Sorry. May you repeat that?”
Potter fights a laugh and opens his mouth to speak again. “Draidan, this is Madame Cynthia Owens. She is the owner of Bottomless Books.”
I offer the woman my hand, and she shakes it gladly. “Mr?”
“Malloi. Draidan Malloi.”
“Well, Mr. Malloi, what would you like me to do for you?”
I glance at Potter for a moment. He looks surprised by my quick thinking. Malloi is so similar to Malfoy, I figured it’d be easy to remember. It also helps that I used it as an alias whenever I left the Manor, but he doesn’t need to know that.
“I was hoping you had some books on-”
“Salazar Slytherin,” Potter cuts in. I shoot him a glare. That wasn’t at all what I thought we were doing here.
“Oh, well if you would come right this way.” Madame Warren’s behaviour totally shifted. She stood up taller and lead us to the very back of the shop and behind a curtain. “Now boys. This is just like Platform 9 ¾, so run through if you must.”
I’m very confused, but all the same I walk behind the wall. On the other side is another bookshop. It is massive, filled with more books than the Hogwarts Library. They are all neatly arranged and organised, listed alphabetically and in topic.
“We have a very wide range of books from the Wizarding World, what are you after?”
Madame Warren comes back into view behind me, and I stop in my tracks. Her appearance has totally changed. In the first store she looked to be in her late fifties, but here she is clearly in her thirties. Her hair has grown longer and thicker, a sheet across her back. Her clothes have shifted into modern Wizarding attire and her skin has cleared. She catches me looking and nods, a small smile on her face.
“The muggles trust older women the most, so I disguise myself for the front shop. It’s really just a façade, the entire store. My main business is back here, with people like you.”
“So the front bookstore is a muggle one?”
“Correct,” Potter agrees beside me. When did he get so close? “It is designed to lure people in, and if you say something clearly Wizarding you are taken back here.”
“Why did you choose Salazar of all things?”
He has the sense to look a little sheepish.
“A week ago after we bought your potions, I sent Cynthia a letter. We agreed that Salazar Slytherin would be our password so she’d know it was us.”
“Yes, it saves me having to question customers about who they are.” Madame Warren smiles. “So, back to business,” she quirks an eyebrow, and I remember her asking what we were after.
“Of course. We were hoping you might have some books on fallen angels.”
“Ooh. I’ll have to ask you some questions then.”
“Peter is really the one to ask,” I say, quickly drawing her attention away from myself and towards the man next to me.
“Draidan’s right, but he will have to answer some I can’t.” His stern gaze turns to me before looking back at Madame Warren. “It’s for his friend,” he rushes to explain.
“Of course,” she readily accepts the lie. “What specifically were you after?”
I watch as they both turn away and walk along one of the rows near us. There is a black sign reading ‘Fantastical Creatures’ in white letters above the place they stop. Deciding that I don’t want to watch them contemplate books any more than I have to, I turn around and scan through the books. The section I’m in is labelled ‘Dark Proceedings’. I’m instantly reminded of my father and the reason why I’m here in the first place. A shiver races up my spine and I hurriedly move down the shelf. The new section is ‘Solving Inquiries’ and I sigh to myself in exasperation before reading through the titles. I’m so predictable. The only books I ever read are Auror novels, wizards trying to crack murder cases. It helps make me feel more in control, reading about people taking down men like the ones in the Manor.
One of them stands out to me. It is a book bound in a beautifully deep red, with black letters spelling out ‘Coloured Veins’. Well, that explains the colouring. I flip it over and read through the blurb. It’s about a world not unlike my own, but one of the witches can see people’s emotions by the colour of their veins. She goes her whole life thinking everyone can see them, only to bring it up and be shot down by others around her. Both figuratively and literally. It seems really interesting, so I charm it to float behind me as I continue searching.
***
“You were talking to Madame Warren for a while,” I point out to Potter as we arrive back at his house.
“Yeah, the circumstances are apparently really unusual, so it took a while to find something relevant.”
“Well. What did you find?”
He shakes his head exasperatedly. “There is a book dedicated to fallen angels in recovering. Or rising angels, as you know I call them.” I don’t bite back my chuckle, and he smiles at me for a second, making my chest ache. Why though? “Anyway, it details a few things we can do to ease the process and just other information.”
“Great, okay.” I sound a bit flustered to my own ears, and pray Potter doesn’t notice. If he does, he doesn’t say anything.
“I think I’ll read it first, and then tell you the relevant parts for you to read first. Of course, you can read all of it if you’d like.”
That said, he turns away and walks up the stairs and into the drawing room. I follow after him and take a seat in the armchair next to the sofa. Potter looks up as I sit down, gives me a smile, and opens the book. I pull out my own and flick to the first page of Coloured Veins. In front of the fire, we are very cozy. The silence drifts around us, only broken up by breathing and the occasional crackle.
Hours pass of us sitting kind of near, but also kind of far, from each other. I get through the first few chapters and become hooked, and Potter has been taking messy notes with a weird muggle thing that acts like a quill. He rushes to stand up, the book falling off his lap with a thud.
“I forgot!” He exclaims.
“You forgot what?” I ask without looking up from my novel.
“I need to talk to Hermione!” With no further explanation, we races out of the drawing room and down the stairs. In the distance, the sound of a stone door banging closed reaches my ears. What would he have forgotten about to run to the kitchen? Unless… Surely not. Why would he?
Scolding myself for thinking about it, I return to my book. There was no way he’d told Granger about my back. Either the wings, or the crest. Hopefully not the crest.
***
An hour or so later, Potter returns to the drawing room. Someone follows behind him, and I watch as Granger enters too. She spares me a glance before taking a seat next to Potter in front of the fire. She tsks before raising her wand to it. “Honestly boys. It’s far too hot.” She flicks her wand, but the fire doesn’t go out. Instead, she forms a shield around which catches some of the heat from the flames. It fades from purple to clear, and a smile crosses her face. “Much better.”
“It really didn’t matter…” Potter tries.
“Nonsense. Look at Malfoy.”
He does, and he clearly sees something because he shakes his head and grins. “He looks like Malfoy.”
“I’m right here you know.” I don’t look up from my book, but I can feel him grin and roll his eyes simultaneously.
“We’re aware.” Granger says. “I was merely pointing out that your pink skin has already become whiter.”
I scrunch my nose up before slamming my book closed and standing. “If you need me I’ll be in my bedroom.”
“Actually,” Potter interrupts. “I think you should hear this.”
“Don’t see why…” I murmur. Placing my book down onto the coffee table, I sit back down and glance up at the people in front of me for the first time.
“Because,” Potter explains with an annoyed tone, “it’s about your issue.”
“My issue? Which one?” I ask him in a deadpan voice, eyes meeting his.
“The one concerning your father and Voldemort.” Granger looks amused at our exchange, but I recoil when she says the Dark Lord’s name.
“That quite a few of my problems…” Regardless of my shock, I carry on.
“Haha,” she says, face humourless. “The one where in half a month they want to scream bloody murder in the Unspeakables’ Department.”
“Oh.” That one. I was getting rather good at ignoring it. Guess I have to go back to having nightmares about somehow ending up there and being tortured. Fun. Oh Merlin.
“Yep.” Granger’s voice is way to cheery, and I want to strangle her.
“I was thinking, Malfoy. Could you tell her everything you know about it?”
“But I’ve already told you…?” Potter really wants me to repeat our conversation. The last time I said this I felt awful. Helpless and useless.
“I know, but I want to make sure everything is covered exactly.” His emerald eyes soften, telling me that he knows the pain, but that it’s necessary to take him down.
“Okay, fine.” I take a deep breath and prepare myself to speak.
“The Dark Lord and my father called me into one of their meetings in about, um, the beginning of March?” My hand starts shaking, so I pin carefully move my left to cover the wrist and gently squeeze it. It acts as an anchor, something else to focus on then the conversation I’m being forced into having. Potter is nodding opposite me, his eyes flickering to my wrist for just a second before travelling back up to my eyes. His face turns grim, mouth a thin line, but Granger just nods and jots down notes with her version of Potter’s muggle quill. “They plan to crash the Unspeakables’ Department, which you already knew… The plans were for the start of May, but that could’ve changed.”
“Do you know the exact date?” Granger questions, glancing up at Potter and I.
“If I knew at some point I don’t remember now. It’s definitely in the first week though.” I recall something about it being planned for April, but having to be moved. I think. Replaying that to Granger, I watch as Potter stands and stretches. His muggle shirt lifts and a sliver of stomach is revealed above his jean’s waist. I tear my eyes away, but not before he notices. Fuck. I’ve become slightly addicted to seeing things like that in this past week. Just accidental clothing movement, each time revealing a little bit more skin than is usually visible. And he’s become quite good at catching me. At least he never brings it up.
“I’m going to go fetch tea. Do you want some?” So that’s why he’s getting up. Granger hums in agreement, and I politely accept. Horror races the length of my spine at being left alone, I’m with Granger, but it’s close enough. I force myself to stamp it down.
“Is that the extent of what you know?” Granger asks.
“I think so, yeah.”
“Okay. Could you tell me about their way of life in general?”
“I could. To an extent, of course.”
“My first question will be why, then.” She draws a line across the page and scribbles down a new heading.
“While I was there I was a prisoner. Not a son, or an accomplice, or whatever you probably thought. I was kept in my bedroom all day, and the food was passed in and out in intervals. That was always the scraps of what they fed to their workers. Basically inedible by the time I got it.”
“I see. What effect did that have mentally?”
“I'm not finished with the way they treated me, but if you want to move on…?”
“Oh. I thought that would be all, given your blood and where your loyalties lie.”
I scoff. “They stopped caring about blood. Mine, at least. And my loyalties were proven elsewhere.”
“I’m sorry,” she says, a look on her face saying that we’ll talk about that last bit later.
“Don’t be.” It was maybe a little harsher than I’d intended, but I’m not taking it back. “I was tortured constantly. That was the only time I was let out of my room. It would last for hours, and nothing, nothing, was considered too bad. Legilimency, the Cruciatus Curse, breaking bones, threatening to bleed me out. I could be here all day,” I explain, the last bit bitter. Extremely so. “I was occasionally permitted leave. I usually took my broom and flew somewhere far away.”
“Why did they let you leave? What if you hadn’t come back?”
“They has trackers on me. And in me. They always knew exactly where I was, and if I wasn’t back in the time limit I’d be cruelly beaten and isolated for days.” Granger’s eyebrows drawn down. “That kept me on schedule every time but once,” I chuckle cruelly.
“If you don’t mind me asking, what did they do as punishment?”
Taking a deep breath, I nod solemnly. “I understand that it needs to be said.” She gives me an encouraging but sad smile and ducks her head to write. “I was beaten into unconscious, for a start. Then I was confined to my room, which is pretty normal, now that I look back. Anyway, they came up with some extreme wards. No one except for my father and the Dark Lord could come and go from my room. If I tried I would be electrocuted. And not gently. If that happened four times, I would’ve been instantly killed.” Granger sighs as she writes. “As an extra form of torture, physcological this time, they allowed me to write letters. Allowed me to beg for help on paper, with no way of getting it to someone.”
She takes her muggle quill off the parchment and looks at me. “But you did. You got a letter to Harry, and you are safe. I’m sorry I had to dig this up.”
I nod shakily, clutching at my wrist tighter. “Should I tell you how I got it out? It’s a weak spot into the Manor.”
“If you feel up to it.”
I make myself speak. Everything needs to be out there, in the open, if we are to take them down. “There was a vent in my bedroom’s en-suite. I used some sort of charm, one that emitted green sparks, to push it along the vents. It flew through the kitchen, to the dining room and out of the window. When it blasted through the wards,
somehow undetected, the sparks rebound back into my wand.”
Granger is gobsmacked. “That’s amazing. I’ll need you to tell me about that spell later.” She makes a scribble at the bottom of her page. “So you’re saying, that if we hypothetically shrunk someone down, and somehow got them through the wards, that there’d be a direct route into your bedroom?”
“Yep. Although, it’s quite a long route with many turns. It’d take ages for someone unfamiliar with the Manor to get there. And once there, they wouldn’t be able to do anything. That end of the Manor is essentially just bedrooms for my family. Not to mention the wards.” I shudder.
Granger’s face seems to light up. “What if we, hypothetically again, sent you in?”
“The wards would probably shred me into a million pieces. I’ve no doubt been removed.”
She hums, thinking out loud. “We’ll have to find someone else then. Someone you could help from the outside…” Her muggle quill moves across the page again.
Granger starts firing off more and more questions, this time about the Manor in general. She sketches out a rough floor-plan of the ground level, adding details about the rooms as she goes. Halfway through, Potter returns with three cups of tea. Each of them look and smell different, and he passes them out to all of us. Mine is Peppermint. My absolute favourite at Hogwarts, as my father wouldn’t allow me to drink it at the Manor. Something about it not being actual tea. I smile at Potter as he passes it to me, our hands bumping for a second too long. As I take a sip, I allow the warm liquid to soothe a path from my mouth to my stomach. Granger absentmindedly hands him the parchment for him to look over as she turns the conversation away. It becomes happier things like Quidditch. Not that even Quidditch calms me down anymore. I now associate it with flying back from Skiddaw Mountain, and the ensuing torture that was the next week.
By the time we finish our tea, and Granger has drawn up the entire Manor, it’s grown dark outside and is starting to become light again. Muffling yawns, Potter says goodbye to his friend and she rushes out via the Floo. I have no idea where she is staying, but it’s not with the Weasley’s. Something about too many casualties if anything was to go wrong. And she isn’t with her parents either, as she removed all knowledge of herself from them. I can’t imagine how difficult that would’ve been for a lot of reasons. Mainly because I’ve never had a parent, or anyone for that matter, care enough. Sure, my mother cares, but not enough to let me switch worlds and become entangled with a war. No, mine made me.
“Alright, Malfoy?”
“Hmm? Oh, yeah. Just thinking.”
Potter smiles, a gentle lift of the corners of his soft-looking mouth. “Well, goodnight then. If you need potions to sleep there should be some in the bathroom.”
“Goodnight, Potter.” How did he know I would need potions? Then again, he might need them too, after the things we spoke about.
“Oh, and Malfoy?”
“Yeah?”
“Do I have to keep calling you that?”
“Calling me what?”
“By your last name. Surely you don’t want to be associated with your father every day.”
I swallow around the sudden lump in my throat. “Call me Draco.”
***
A/N: I am beyond sorry for the long wait 😣. As I said last time, this break has been for my physical health. It has drastically improved though, and this should be back to a regular schedule 🥳. I hope you enjoyed this (belated) chapter! Xx
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greekowl87 · 7 years ago
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Fic: False Flags Redux 6/13
(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) | AO3
A/N: A massive thanks to @mulders-boyish-enthousiasm and @scully-loves-ruthie to helping get this project to where it is today. Next week there is some going on the run. Thanks for sticking around!
Tagging @today-in-fic
P.S. Want the story all in one neat little place? Click the AO3 link above.
6/13
Norfolk, Virginia December 15, 1998
Scully sat crossed legged on the center of her hotel bed wearing jeans, an old University of Maryland hoodie, and her glasses. In front of her, she had case notes, autopsy files, and toxicology reports spread out around her like a sea. On her knee was a notebook and a pen that she held, bouncing it up and down on the college ruled lines in thought. Her mind was everywhere and she could not focus. Memories of a different lifetime and the unsettling memories of the past couple days. She pinched her nose and pushed the glasses to rest on top of her head.
None of this made sense. Seriously, how many times had she repeated that statement since coming down here? How many times had she read the same reports in front of her? She felt like she was being torn into two separate people but she was ultimately still the same person. Unconsciously, she did not notice her hand holding the pen begin to move unconsciously. She was brought out of her thoughts by a light knocking on her hotel room door. She pushed the notebook off her knee and swam through the sea of files to the edge of the bed.
“What? You not dressed?” came an amusing voice from the other side.
She smiled slightly at the familiar teasing and opened the door. “I could not decide what shirt to wear for you.”
Mulder smiled at Scully and wordless walked into her room without invitation. “I dig the UMD shirt. Supporting the old alumni?”
“Yep,” she replied. Scully shut the door softly behind her, noticing Mulder had found her sea of files. “I was just trying to do some thinking.”
“Thinking? Is that what you call it? It looks more like you were trying to drown yourself in information. Quite literally. What is all this?”
“I was trying to get a clue.”
“A clue?”
“An idea. Anything. With all this,” she replied, waving her hand at the side of her head.
Mulder looked at her in surprise. “You, Dana Scully, are actually entertaining the idea of a past life? My, my, haven't the tables turned.”
She shrugged uselessly. “I have nothing else to go on. How do explain what is going on?”
Mulder silently surveyed the files and picked up the notebook that she had been doodling on. His eyes read over the script somehow recognizing it. “Scully, did you write this?”
She arched her eyebrow cautiously. “Write what?”
She took the notepad and read the flowing script. “Mulder, this isn't my handwriting. You know what my handwriting looks like.”
He squinted at it, bringing the notepad closer for inspection. “It sort of looks like yours,” he mused, “if you took a calligraphy course. But it is still your handwriting. But the message...I recognize it. I've seen it before. I feel like I wrote it to you and then gave it to you.”
Scully read the note quickly as it described how their meetings need to be more constant and something about troop movements and Union lines. “Mulder, I don't know what this is. It's probably nothing.”
“I wouldn't call this nothing. I've seen it before,” he said. “I'm positive, Scully. I just don't know where.” He sighed and took the notebook and tossed it onto the bed, his eyes lingering on it heavily. “Try not to think about it right now, Scully. We still have dinner.”
“How can we have dinner at a time like this when there is a crazed murderer out there?” she asked softly.
“Because you are overworking yourself. You're running yourself into the ground. Ever since these dreams started, you're stretching yourself thin,” he said softly. She opened her mouth to reply but he cut her off. “Don't say 'I'm fine' too. I know you're not. We both know.”
She closed her mouth and her eyes. “I can't seem to focus,” she admitted softly. She closed her eyes. “Everything is just so...cloudy.” Scully opened her eyes and gazed at her partner. “You think I'm crazy.”
“Maybe a little air will do you good,” Mulder suggested and changed the subject. “Let's go to dinner. This will be here when we get back. The front desk lady was telling me about this seafood restaurant by Chic's Beach, like literally right on the beach, and we can see the Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel at night.”
“I swear you are trying to romance me,” she mused softly. She took off her glasses and got her jacket. “All this food. Or you want something. Or maybe you are planning to ditch me for an alien corpse again.”
He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “I would never...well, at any rate, I promise to take you with me if I did. Anyways, I know the way to your heart is to your stomach. Just like mine. Usually, it's chocolate, but tonight, it's steak and fresh seafood..”
“Or you're just trying to make me fat. What happened to smart is sexy, Mulder?”
“Fat or not,” he shrugged. “I like you just the way you are, sexy smartness included.”
She chuckled and with a roll of her eyes, they left to go to dinner.
. . . .
Norfolk, Virginia April 15, 1862
As was the tradition when he finished up his day in the war office, Mulder walked the streets of Free Mason and jogged lightly up the steps to the familiar brick house before he lightly knocked on the door. The door opened slightly and the maid, Martha, smiled in greeting. “Lieutenant, it is a pleasure to see you,” she said.
“You as well, Miss Martha,” he said, bowing slightly and kissing her hand, causing the old servant to blush. “Is Mrs. Buchanan in?”
“Yes, sir. She is expecting you. She is up in the study. May I take your coat?”
“Yes, please.” He took off the long overcoat and passed it to her. “Thank you, ma'am.”
She laughed. “You are such a charmer, Lieutenant Mulder! May I say, sir, it is rather noble of you to watch over the captain's wife during his absence.”
“Oh, yes,” he answered absently. He took a deep breath, smiling a soup from the kitchen. “It smells amazing in here.”
“Oh, thank you, sir! My mother's own personal recipe for beef stew!”
“Sounds wonderful.”
“Shall I announce you're arrival.”
“No, no. I much prefer to surprise her. Mrs. Buchanan is expecting me after all.”
. . . .
Scully sat at her writing desk in the study and read the correspondence from her mother sadly. Her father was ill and had come home from sea. Bill was somewhere in Europe. Melissa somewhere in Paris. Charlie, Mama Scully did not know where her baby boy was. Scully was the last one to have contact with him the year before when he had set up for the spy network for Dana. And now, Dana was the only child she was able to reach out to and count still alive. She was so absorbed in her reading, she failed to hear the door open as Mulder entered and called her name out softly. “Scully, you still awake?” he teased softly.
She jumped and clutched the letter to her chest. “Mulder!” She hastily placed the letter down and got up and forced a smile. “I was not expecting you for at least another hour.”
“I was able to leave the war office early,” he said softly, watching her. “I'm sorry for startling you. It was not my intention. I managed to bring the information you requested.”
“What information,” she asked distractedly. He pulled a small folded paper from his shell jacket and placed it on the desk in front of her. She opened it immediately as her eyes raked over the information. “How the hell did you managed to sneak this out?”
“I am a man of many talents,” he said softly, tapping his temple. “Photographic memory and that is only the beginnings of it. My newest post allows access to so much from navel information to troop movements. This is what I did before being forced to join the marines. I guess I should thank your husband for ordering me to be your moral compass during his absence.”
“A blessing in disguise in more ways than one.” She looked at him questioningly. “Is it true he cried like a child?”
“Where did you hear that?”
She flashed him a pleasing smile. “I have my ways,” she teased. “But tell me, Mulder, is it?”
“He cried on the ship. He was a bit more...somber once back on land.” He gave a weak smile. “I would not necessarily say that but he was a bit overly dramatic.”
“He acted childishly,” she smirked.
“A bit.”
She smiled at him as they shared a quiet moment together. Gently she took his hand and squeezed it. “It's so good to see you again, Mulder, I've missed you and I appreciate the constant company now. Franklin was suffocating as a husband and I loved it when he was away.”
“That does not sound like the mark of a happy marriage,” he replied dryly.
“The marriage is anything but happy. I've told you how unhappy I am with Franklin, Mulder. More than anything, it is convenient, for him and for my family. The man is almost thirty years old than myself,” she sighed. “If I were to have his child, not only would I be legally bound to him, I would be bringing a child into a loveless family. I could never do that, Mulder.”
“Would you ever want a child?” he asked softly, the conversation taking a turn to towards a more intimate, personal nature.
“Of course,” she confessed after a long moment. She smiled, a little flustered by the line of questioning.“But only if I could raise it properly. I have no identity with my husband, I have no money, I have nothing without him. To him, I’m expected to run the household and be the upstanding step-mother to his other nine children, not that I have anything against them. I’m just so unhappy around him. If only you could understand! Talking to you, Mulder, is like a breath of fresh air. I am someone in your eyes. I have a voice. I'm a person to you.” She stopped herself. “I apologize. Are you hungry?”
“Don’t ever apologize,” he said softly. “You never have to apologize to me. And you are more than just a person to me, Scully.”
Scully chuckled lightly. “Well obviously, you don’t know me very well.”
“I would like to,” he replied, hesitating, “if you would let me.”
She was caught off guard by the intimacy of his comment. She brushed off the statement by ignoring it completely. She still questioned why she had gone to his barracks on the eve of the ironclad battle and what had possessed her to give him that rosary. It was a whim, a flight of fancy, she rarely let herself indulge in. Neither one of them brought up that night again although she did catch glimpses of the blue crystal rosary beneath his uniform jacket. “We’re just partners,” she said dismissively.
“Just partners,” he repeated, leaning against the desk. “I like to indulge in the thought we are more. Friends? Our letters over the past month or so indicate a little more than just partners, or at the very least friends.”
“I am a married woman,” she whispered.
“I am not contesting that,” he said, taking a deep breath, “or even suggesting it, Scully. We work together, yes? What is a partnership if it does not have trust?”
“I trust you,” she defended. “I trust you with my life. I trust you not to betray me and I know you expect likewise from me.”
“But to truly trust someone, it must be completely, especially in this case.”
“What is the line of this questioning, Mulder? Why are you pursuing this?”
He shrugged nonchalantly. “I cannot trust the men I survive and serve with. I do not trust my own family. For so long it has just been me. I need someone to trust. We need to completely trust each other if this arrangement is to fully benefit.”
“Why have you grown so formal with me all of a sudden,” she cried. He was silent as he looked out the window in thought. “Mulder?”
“Someone came by today,” he said slowly. “He was not in uniform with nothing distinguishing about him. He was inquiring about your husband and yourself. Nothing out of the ordinary it seemed but he found it peculiar that the captain’s wife was not with him while he is recovering from his thigh wound. His name was Krychek. Alexandar Krychek.”
“What on Earth is he talking about? I’ve spent years away from Franklin.” She got up and paced slightly. “Did he ask you anything?”
Mulder shook his head no slowly. “No, however, I do not want an instance to arise where we are caught at a disadvantage. I do not suspect he knows anything but we never know. That is why we need to be completely honest with each other, no matter what.”
“I told you, I trust you with my life,” she defended.
“As I do with mine, but, Scully, do you trust me? Trust me in every sense of the word?”
“Of course! Why are you asking me this? Do you trust me to that degree?”
“Yes,” he said softly. “But it cannot be one-sided. What if something happens? What if you withhold information…”
“I would never do that!” she snapped, disliking the way the conversation was turning. She turned to face him angrily. “Where are these accusations coming from?” He was quiet, her eyes inspecting her intensely. Unconsciously, she shivered under his gaze. “Mulder, stop staring at me, please. You are making me very uncomfortable.”
“I apologize.” He looked down at his feet for a second, trying to find the courage to speak again to her. “Do I make you uncomfortable, Mrs. Buchanan?”
She flinched at the use of her formal title and married name and closed her eyes as if in pain. “Scully. Just Scully.”
Mulder watched her with an inquisitive eye as she paced in front of him, frustrated. “I cannot stop thinking about you, you know?” she said quietly. She slowed her pacing and watched him carefully. “Ever since that night, I came to your barracks. I do not know what possessed me that night. I dream about you when I close my eyes. In my heart, I know I belong to you and no one else. Have I lost my mind, Mulder? Am I crazy?”
“Why are you bringing this up now?” he questioned, watching her stoic face for any sign. “We have conversed freely for the past few weeks, ever since the night when I agreed to work with you. Is my information not reliable enough?”
“No!” She waved her hand widely. “No! That’s not it. It’s…” She sighed, trying to collect herself. “Ever since that night, have you not felt differently?”
“Different how?”
“Like, you were older than you actually were. Like you have been someone else. You belong to someone else.”
“I cannot say that I have,” he lied.
Scully instantly felt foolish of herself. “Never mind.”
“If you feel it is important to all this…”
“It is not. I appreciate you coming by tonight. Have you found new accommodations at your new post?”
He shook his head. “I’ve been sleeping on a cot for the past couple of weeks in the office. It is a step up from the hammock that was on the ironclad.” He shrugged. “Is that why you summoned me here?”
“No. Well, yes. Partly. I have been concerned with the rumors I have been hearing about the battles raging on the peninsula,” she said softly. “I worry.”
“Why? The fighting is far away,” he shrugged. “I have faith that the warring armies will not come here to Norfolk.”
Scully was silent.
“You think otherwise.”
“The Confederacy is losing this war,” she told him evenly. He continued to stare at her quietly as if it was supposed to mean something. “Why are you just staring?”
“Of course I know they are losing this war. The Union will be here in due time, of that I have no doubt. Are you worried about your husband or yourself? I assure you that they will come but you should be safe.”
Why was he speaking her with such detachment? What had changed since she had last seen him a month and half ago. “Why are you speaking to me in such a manner?”
Mulder shifted uncomfortably and gazed out the window. Since the ironclad battle, he had been feeling different himself. He could not exactly place it. He kept up his correspondence and spying with her as he had promised, but kept himself at arm's length. He also did his best to inquire about her welfare per his captain’s orders, but he still did not want to grow too close. But he was. He had started having strange dreams about her as well. He felt stranger feelings that burning in him about Scully. That night in the barracks had startled him and awoken something within him, but he did not know what, just that it kept growing with intensity.
“You are not the only one who has felt...strange,” he whispered.
“It was the rosary, was it not?” Scully said softly, lowering her eyes. “I apologize for being so bold.”
“No, no,” he said instantly. “You were not.”
He was quiet.
“Then why have you avoided me? I can tell in our correspondence that you are purposely keeping me away.”
“I am trying to keep you safe,” he admitted. “I am no good to be around, I am a soldier, and not to mention our little ring. I breed danger. Everyone around me gets hurt.”
“Keep me safe,” she scoffed. “I’m more than capable of taking care of myself, Mulder, I assure you.”
He bit his lip, refraining from saying anything else damaging or revealing. “Of that, I have no doubt. Maybe...maybe I am the wrong one for this. Maybe you need someone who is more...headstrong. Maybe you made a mistake with me.”
She arched her eyebrow in surprise. “A mistake? What makes me think I made a mistake?” she deadpanned. He looked away and out the window. “Mulder, look at me in the eye.”
“I must be going,” he said softly. “Expect my next report within the week.”
“No.” He turned to leave but was caught off guard by her boldness as she grabbed his hand and stilled him with her other hand on his arm. “Stop being a martyr. Why do you treat your self so poorly?” She hesitated before pushing a loose strand of his hair away from his face. “Stop it. Stop it right now.”
She continued to amaze him time and time again and her intimate gesture just continued to add to that shock. He blinked, clearing his mind but found himself leaning into her touch. “Stop what? The truth?”
“I will slap you if I must to knock some sense into you,” she threatened. “You need to realize that you are worth something, you are worth something to me, even if you see it.”
“Where is this coming from?” he questioned in a low voice.
“I do not know,” she whispered in awe of her own words. Scully looked at him curiously. Drawing in a deep breath, she asked, “Will you still stay?”
He nodded into her hand as she withdrew it. “As long as you desire.”
“You can trust me, Mulder, I promise,” she said softly.
In a moment, Mulder threw his caution to the wind and grabbed Scully possessively. His arm coiled around her waist and his free hand forced her head upwards to meet her in an earth shattering kiss. Scully gasped and mentally willed to pull herself away, but she could not. No. She pulled back slightly and smiled before lunging forward, wrapping her arms around his neck and deepening the second kiss. This felt right. He was right. Mulder hummed in approval, hitched her skirts up, and carried them towards the couch in the study.
. . . .
Chic’s Beach, Virginia Beach December 16, 1998
Scully smiled to herself hearing the gentle sound of the Chesapeake Bay’s small waves washing on shore as they got out of the car in the parking lot to a red building that overlooked the bay and the bridge in the distance. It felt a little weird to her to be doing something outside of work with her partner, dressed in jeans, sweatshirts, sneakers, and jackets...actual regular clothes. It almost felt like a date with the restaurant they had arrived at, but it was not, and she needed to keep reminding herself that.
“Wow,” Mulder said as he took in the view of the lighted bridge reflecting over the bay for as far as the eye could see. “Wonder how long it is.”
“Twenty-three miles,” she answered quickly. “Well, close to it anyways. They’re working on an expansion.”
“You really are smarter than me, Scully. You know that?” he teased.
“Well, I won’t go around telling everyone. Don’t worry, Mulder.”
He smiled, glad to see Scully a little lighter and a bit more herself. He was worried about her (as he should be!) but she would never let him fawn over her. She had been acting a little out of character the past few days but tonight, she seemed back to her old self. In some respect. “So, you going to get the most expensive thing on the menu, Scully?”
“With your g-man salary? You bet. At this rate, I’m going to drain your savings account if you keep buying me all these dinners,” she said softly. “Not to mention the pounds.”
“You need to do more than bee pollen and yogurt, Scully.” His hand found its familiar place on the small of her back. “Come on, let’s go wine and dine.”
. . . .
The low lights and quiet atmosphere settled over the FBI agents like a favorite blanket that you wrap yourself in on a cold winter night. Scully had found herself loosening up, opening up, and laughing like the young agent she used to be six years ago. Mulder kept it light, laughing as he did, rejoicing in her relaxed state. It was all too rare.
“You really don’t have to do this, Mulder,” she began, “you know this right?”
The hostess led them to a small intimate booth near the window. The restaurant was not that big to begin with. Five booths lined the wall where in the middle of the restaurant where a few tables here and there and across the dining room, against the other wall, was a small bar with a fancy collection of beer and liquor bottles on display. Mulder waved his hand as if it was the simplest thing in the world.
“No worries, Scully,” he said. He opened the menu and glanced at it. “They got loads of seafood to pick from.”
“What makes you think I want seafood?” She arched an eyebrow and looked down at the menu herself. “Oh, this looks interesting, seafood nachos.”
“Sounds disgusting,” he said. “Now here’s something you don't see every day: seafood mac and cheese. I think you'll love it because you’re a daughter of a navy captain. Water’s in your blood, especially since the human body is made up of 80 percent of water.”
“Look at you being all scientific. But how is that any better?” she cried.
“More seafood to pick from. Your nachos just have crab meat. Which,” he held up a finger, stopping her from starting a rebuttal, “is nothing wrong with it.”
She shook her head and looked down at the menu. “When was the last time we did something like this, Mulder?”
“What?”
“Just...hang out,” Scully replied after a moment.
A waiter appeared before them and smiled. Scully glanced at Mulder, smiling and raising her eyebrows suspensefully. “Good evening, folks. My name is Jared and I wll be taking care of you. Can I start you off with an appetizer?”
She looked at Mulder and gave him a devilish smile which he returned. “Whatever you want, Scully,” he told her, motioning to the menu with his hand.
“Crab dip,” she said excitedly. She glanced at Jared. “We’ll start of with that and can we get two hurricanes, and oh, water for both of us.”
“Wonderful choices,” he replied writing down their order. “We are featuring a few specials if you would like to hear them?” She nodded. “Excellent! So we have two. The first is a grilled mahi mahi with crab imperial on top with a choice of two sides. The second is a surf and turf. We have an eight ounce sirloin cooked with eight locally caught shrimp, also with a choice of two sides.”
“What do you say, Mulder?” She raised her eyebrow. “We can share.”
“Medium on the steak?”
“Medium rare.”
“Sounds good.” He closed her menu and took hers as well, passing them off the waiter. “We’ll have one of each.”
Jared nodded and wrote down the order. “And do you what sides would you like?”
“Mac and cheese and green beans?” He glanced at Scully and she nodded. “Whatever the lady desires.”
“Wonderful. All get that all in for you. Let me know if I can do anything for you in the meantime.”
. . . .
Scully did not know what had caused it. All throughout dinner, she felt bubbly, warm. It was probably all the wine and good food, and the good company. Scully did not want to say it aloud but it felt like a date. Was this a date? Mulder was smiling at her, talking about something.  All this new intimacy (or was it old intimacy), it was beginning to put things in a different perspective.
“You know,” she began, taking the wine glass and swirling the last little bit, “we never do this.”
“What?”
“Hang out. We're friends, wouldn’t you say?” she asked slowly.
“Of course. You're my best friend.” He shrugged, sipping his drink. “Who else is going to let me call them at two a.m. with wild theories. And besides, I did offer to buy you a drink that one time right when we started working together.”
“Five years ago when you were meeting one of your shadowy informants does not count.”
He shrugged. “What are you trying to say, Scully? You would want to do more of this? Putting up with my sorry ass in public?”
She gave a smile small and nodded. Mulder gave her a warm smile as well. He wiped his mouth with a napkin and set it on his dirty plate. “Well, I am stuffed. How about you?”
“I can’t move.”
“So, we’re like two blocks away from the bay. Let’s go check it out. We can put our leftovers in the car.”
Scully arched her eyebrow suspiciously. “Who are you and what have you done with Mulder?”
He laughed and motioned for the check. After he paid it, they strolled down the short street to a plankway that led down to the beach. Scully took a moment to listen to the cars passing over the Chesapeake Bay Bridge and how the street lights mirrored on the bay, casting just enough light to see the gentle ebbing waves. Mulder nudged her along by placing the small of his hand on her back and began the walk down the shoreline.
“How are you feeling, Scully?”
“Level-headed, probably the first time in days,” she admitted. “It was probably a good thing to take a break from reviewing all those notes.”
Notes, he mused silently, including that random one that was on her notepad that had nothing to do with the case. He would have to ask her about that.
“We still have our work cut out for us though.”
“I know. I’m surprised they’re not making us a part of the manhunt tonight.”
“Don’t question our good fortune. I requested the journal that he kept so we can review it. Maybe we can find something there.”
“That’s more your department than mind.” She wrapped her arms around herself slightly. “No much I can do with it.”
Mulder pursed his lips in thought, unsure of how to approach the subject. “Well, we might gain some better insight if we look at it together.”
“And maybe we can rewatch the interview tapes. I know the prosecution had some prior to his sentencing.”
“How do you think he escaped? Buckley hardly seem the brightest person in the world. He had no past indicating lockpicking skills” She shrugged and he continued in thought. “Maybe we should look at those claims of a past life. Maybe there is a correlation with the Tennessee case and Epishan?”
“What, did you serve in Virginia too?” she teased.
“I honestly don’t think that regression was accurate,” he admitted after a pregnant pause. “I don’t think any of that was right.”
“So you’re telling me you don’t believe in past lives now?”
“Not necessarily. I just don’t think that one was right.”
Mulder needed to do some research about past lives before he even considered approaching Scully with the topic. Ever since she had admitted to the dreams, his brain kept spinning. It started the other day at Buckley’s sentencing and then when the met him in the interview afterwards. Buckley seemed...different somehow in contrast when they first arrested him the year before. And not to mention his own weird dream from the previous morning. He did not remember much but as the day had passed he did remember something. Someone’s blue eyes and those eyes had looked just like Scully’s. They were her eyes. That much he was confident of, along with other things. He cleared his throat unconsciously as he paused and watched her walk further down the beach.
He would do anything for her. But how could he approach the topic of  past lives with her without her dismissing him? He knew there was a connection there between her, Buckley, and himself. He just did not know what. Maybe he could get a better look at that note…
“Mulder.”
He blinked and focused on Scully. “Hm?”
“You ready to go back to the hotel? It’s getting late.”
“Yeah. You ready?”
She nodded. “Thank you, for tonight. I really enjoyed myself.”
“Anytime, Scully,” he said simply. He reclaimed his spot on the small of her back and they began the trek back to their car. “Let’s get going.”
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wherespacepooh · 7 years ago
Text
ARTICLE: Yuzuru Hanyu: I am at 20% right now (Number 934-5)
In a rink reverberating with music and the sounds of blades against the ice, quiet surrounded Hanyu.  –– Takaomi Matsubara
Despite still trolling with one single 3A, the brat (you’ll see) shows his tender side (you’ll also see) in his pursuit of figure skating mastery and ideals...This is quintessential Hanyu––calm, confident and thoughtful as he discusses the Olympics, his programs and the significance and meaning of skating itself. - gladi.
Translated by gladi. Please do not repost without permission. Images belong to Number.
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From Number Issue 934-935. Published on 2017.08.24
Contending for successive Olympic victories, the champion––Yuzuru Hanyu. Programs for the season have been decided, preparation is steadily underway. At his training base in Toronto, Hanyu talked about his thoughts on the Pyeongchang Olympics, and the ideal skate he continues to seek.
Text by Takaomi Matsubara・Photography by Asami Enomoto
The sunny expression seemed to reflect his current state of mind. August 8th, at the Cricket Club in Toronto, Canada. Yuzuru Hanyu, who had finished his training for the day, showed up, all smiles, at the press conference.
The first thing out of his mouth, an announcement of his free program this season, that comes only once every four years.
"I had decided that I wanted to reuse this program in the Olympic season ever since I was able to achieve great performances with SEIMEI in the 2015-16 season.”
With television cameras aligned and surrounding press forming layers around him, his voice was raised to reach [even those standing] far away. The moment when it was made clear that [Hanyu’s] choice for his free program this Olympic season, which had attracted considerable attention, would be SEIMEI from the 2015-16 season––the first time in history anyone had gotten a score of over 300.  
“The number one thing is that I felt [SEIMEI] suited me. Skating to it, I had the feeling that I could melt into the piece without force."
Hanyu was not the only one who thought SEIMEI was a good idea.
“I brought it up right after the World Championships ended. ‘What do you think of skating to it again?’” It was Shae-lynn Bourne, who choreographed SEIMEI two seasons ago.
“Because it fits him so well. I was so glad when I heard that he’d decided.”
Coach Brian Orser also welcomed the decision.
“When we put on the music, all the coaches would say ‘Love this program.’ The audience and the judges should enjoy seeing this. I am satisfied with the decision to choose this piece."
With a smile on his face, he added.
“Of course, I think this is no easy decision.”
The short program––Chopin’s Ballade No.1 from 2014-15 and 2015-16 seasons––was made clear back in May, during the Makuhari run of Fantasy on Ice. He will be reusing both programs. This could be a negative if the audience feels “it’s the same as before.” Questions raising such concerns and worries came up one after another at the interview. In reality, Takeshi Honda, Elvis Stojko and so forth have done the same in past Olympics, and this wasn’t the first attempt. However, there was also the general atmosphere, a perception that it is exceedingly rare that both free and short programs are reprised. But Hanyu did not waver.
“It physically fatigues and tires me in a different way, and I have the feeling that I’m challenging something completely different. Because the level of difficulty is entirely different, it won’t be captive [to the past]. Because it is different."
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Shae-lynn Bourne also said this.
“It feels that [SEIMEI] has been reborn, or refreshed––improved? Yes, that it has evolved.”
Compared to the free program two seasons ago where he was jumping three quads with Toe Loop and Salchow, the layout has also undergone big changes. 4Lo, 4S, 3F in the first half, 4S+3T, 4T+1Lo+3S, 4T, 3A+2T, 3Lz in the second half––for a total of 5 quads. Last season, when Nathan Chen successfully landed 5 quads, 4 were in the first half. With 3 [quads] in the second half, the difficulty is immense no matter the music. Based on this alone, it seems appropriate not to call this a “reprise,” but a “challenge."The base value [of jumps] has drastically increased from 79.89 in 2015-16 to 89.51 now.
“I have got to exceed [330.43]. As long as I do things normally, practice properly, creating conditions where I am able to bring out my true abilities, and peak towards competitions. I believe that is an important aspect this season.”
Having been through the Olympic season once also brings a more relaxed breadth of mind.
"Four years ago, I think I was more flustered, but now––I should do this, I should do that––I guess it has become quite clear what looks to be my path.”
On the other hand, he denies that being defending champion has brought pressure.
“I don’t think I’m in the position of being chased! Compared to Sochi, everyone right now has their own identity and we encounter and clash as fellow [competitors], it is very enjoyable… The first thing is to be selected as representative in a condition where I am healthy, without injury, and capable of bringing out my true abilities with the best effort possible. If I am selected, I would do my best and aim for gold.”
Such as the three quads landed in the second half at the World Team Trophy in April, [Hanyu] has taken measures with the Olympics in mind. More than anything, the choice of SEIMEI affords solid ground for confidence.
“It is a program where I can be myself, down to the way I breathe. Very comfortable to skate.”
To be himself. Because Hanyu has such programs where he can feel that way.
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I don’t know my limit. God only knows.
In face of the Pyeongchang Olympics, preparations––what should be done––have been underway since the end of Sochi Olympics. All that is left is to go forth toward the actual thing–––but, Hanyu said.
“If I’m to speak of my own feelings, based on my current mindset––20% or so."
That number did not represent his level of completion towards the Olympics.
When he was interviewed in April 2012, right before he left his hometown of Sendai to train in Toronto, he had spoken of his image of the ideal skater.
“I want to become a skater who can do everything. I will work towards distinguishing myself by being good at everything.”
[20%] was where he is at towards that goal.
He continued after pausing for a second, “In terms of ideals, not at all. In consideration of my own skating career––Is this the limit? Is this 100%?––I myself don’t really know. God knows.”
“It’s like––I can still go another 80% or more.”  
An intent gaze cut through his tender expression.
“At long last, my muscles and various things have stabilized and other things––expression, as well as knowledge––have come a long way. Technique as well. That is why, I think, various things will come to fruition hereon."
What place does a second Olympics occupy as [he] moves toward his ideal? Is it the destination, or merely a passing point?
“As yet, until the Olympics is over, there is no way to know. That is what I really think. Each individual competition is essential, and above all else––especially the case during this period––I’m proceeding with great care with my practice each day. How good can I make each run through? How much can I harvest [from training]? First of all, carefully doing everything one by one––isn’t that the theme?”
The smiling face, the words at the press conference––[how every opportunity is maximized, and every day is lived to its fullest] is perhaps also conveyed by the following sentiment.
“I guess, compared to the past, figure skating has become more and more my anchor. For example, when I live life and the going gets tough and I want to give up on things, if skating goes well, I am able to think ‘still, this is my own self’. Expressing yourself as you please––there is rarely the place for this. To me, ‘figure skating’ is such a place. I am happy I continued to skate."
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The day following the announcement of SEIMEI.
The runthrough that he wasn’t able to do at practice the day before (t/n Hanyu did SEIMEI in parts on Day 1) began. While he sometimes skipped steps and transitions, he skated to the very end and stood on one end of the rink.
Starting with Javier Fernandez, there were five skaters skating in the rink. With both hands on his hips, Hanyu looked deep in thought with his head down. Sometimes, he would stare intently ahead. Although his eyes were fixed, instead of watching the skaters around him, he seemed to be alone in his own world. In a rink reverberating with music and the sounds of blades against the ice, quiet surrounded Hanyu.
When practice came to an end, as always, he bowed down deeply to the rink and gently touched the ice with his hand. From the beginning to the end, there was not a second where he slackened and let his thoughts wander. Behind the smile, there was Hanyu who faces skating in sincerity.
Words from coach Tracy Wilson, said with a tender smile, came to mind.
“Hunger is his essence. When one gets the gold medal, it’s normal to lose a little steam, but Yuzu only looks forward.”
With his eyes set on a successive Olympic victory, Hanyu has been advancing.
At the same time, he has pursued his goal of being the ideal skater. Toward which, he still feels far from. That is why he wants to stretch himself in all directions, and why he believes he can.
“If I could meet myself a year later, I will probably be told, ‘You still have a ways to go.’ In a year, I’ll probably have grown even more. But, if I were asked a year from now, I’m sure I’ll still answer ‘20%’. If it were me, that is what I would say. By then, I will be seeing even further boundaries.” (fin)
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extravachance-moved-blog · 8 years ago
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META: SUMMARY
This isn't part of the canon because it developed through a long time and several threads. The following takes place between Sept. 2014 and Feb. 2017 and solely influences main!verse aka; beginner's luck. ( Hinting to P.S!Sakon because his current mindset has been becoming eerily similar to that one ).
THE OLD BLOG.
1. Sep. 2014 - Jan. 2015. Pretty close with Mitsunari ( the four that were around, he was in heaven ) and in the process to be recognised as his ( pinky ) left hand. Still curious, always trying to empathise with other's problem even if couldn't understand them at a deeper level. Timid with girls, and easily flustered because they were too pretty. Attempted to fight anyone who seemed strong, driven by the desire of improve his fighting skills and... in all honesty, fighting was fun ( still is ). Horrible cooking skills.
He did his best even if wasn’t taken into account for decisions or anything. His main motivation was being acknowledged as a useful member of the Toyotomi and make his lord proud. Sakon used to have a big crush on him too, he stood no chance. His opinion about Ieyasu was way softer as well. He didn’t have many friends and was pushed to drink alcohol by other soldiers, at least did it only on occasions. Hated make others sad.
2. Feb. 2015 - April. 2015. Takes a step forward in try to cheer up sad people indiscriminately. His troubles with drinking and uhh... questionable ideas got somewhat worse; started to want feel how was being in a relationship. First cases of actually feeling depressed but not outright refuse help, in fact asked for some kind of help. He really did. This was the starting point in which Sakon began to drift away and try to find new people to spend time with and get advice. This was his opinion about Kiyouki, and he was scared of commit the same mistakes again.
( Also this is an example of what might happen if Mitsunari dies. ) Sakon wanted to help but couldn’t do much, leading to a feeling of inadequacy. Yet, it wasn’t overwhelming enough to stop him from being most of the time cheerful and weird. If anything, he did turn more childish without realizing. It brought an odd sense of comfort, though. He couldn’t explain well the sensation.
3. May. 2015 - July. 2015. He took more tasks, missions and the like. All while following some people’s advice. In general had a peaceful period, feeling better as could help more for the army’s sake. Except for an uncomfortable Mother’s day having to deal with Hisahide. ( Also here, another glimpse of the mess that is post-sekigahara!Sakon ). And in a way, some ask memes broke him down... and did affect him for a long time. Mitsunari dying. Maria dying. Other people dying----- ending in this. THIS.
Between the good things in his life, he meet SW!Sakon and it was instant admiration, considering him a cool big brother from another dimension. Then he also found Katsuie and started to interact with him because RIVALS !!! And he wished to bring a little joy to his life. He had been on several highs and lows, not wanting people to suffer the same experiences as him; it wasn’t a crush --- just a sincere attempt to help. Likewise, no matter how bad was before he could bounce back to his bright self.
His birthday ( June 9th ) was spent with his other self. Nobody else knew when it was since he kept it as a secret. They ate sweets, it was cute, nice and pure.
The box trouble happened a few days after, stealing Katsuie’s first kiss in a mix of; mind shifting to auto-pilot given his fear of small and enclosed places and messed up sense of intimacy. It was an awful moment. But they got better and spent a lot time together, it felt natural and that’s how Sakon’s got attached to him. With Mitsunari it was always chase him, or chase Gyobu, to take part of their activities. Katsuie seemed fine with him and he was glad of it. Share clashing opinions was satisfying too.
4. Aug. 2015 - Oct. 2015. Why does he have low expectations in romance or being chosen at all? This is the answer. He always would be a second option, a replacement. Why ‘Kiyouki’ began to be part of him again? He doubted about how ‘dead’ he was. Why he sees himself an ‘unworthy? This is the answer. It was a period in which he tried to drown his sorrows with alcohol, hoping the bad feelings would go away. It didn’t happen and they grew bigger and stronger as the time passed. He ignored them because couldn’t go seeking reassurance every time something went wrong. His mood was pretty volatile those months.
He cheered himself up with jokes and socializing. As well slept a lot to calm down and not over think. He had a brief crush on someone else ( honestly, on who he hasn’t had one...? ) notwithstanding, it ended soon. His feelings for Mitsunari turned entirely platonic and he was content with it. His opinion on marriage changed too, he ended very ambivalent after certain interaction. ( And in an unrelated noted; Kiyouki’s nature. ) At this point he met Tatsu and befriended her. Same for Masazumi.
5. Nov. 2015 - May. 2016. He started to close off and fully embraced the idea of pretend being happy. Still tried to give advice in hopes that people wouldn’t end in the same state as him. His cheerfulness and ability to communicate were subdued. Yet his acting skills made it unnoticeable. Lies were more frequent.  Once again tried to push through giving his best smile, as far as it could be, of course. Quite dramatic at times, for the sake of being believable. Then he took even more tasks, missions and improved skills in other fields.
As a lighthearted fact, he did ask if could purchase adulthood and compared it with a plant. He was extremely childish. And got a Mitsunari plush. ........Also made a dumb joke and then was pushed to confess his feelings, dying a little inside. Very lonely. Who is him if isn’t a bouncy sunshine? No idea. Identity crisis already present and causing trouble. Failure of his own expectations. Pretty much disappeared for a while. When not talking with people went to hide in solitary places, to keep his mental health in check.
THIS BLOG
6. June. 2016 - Sept. 2016. His birthday was fine, he got some presents and good wishes. Kept himself busy with romance and idle entertainment. Couldn't see Ieyasu without jump into action full of bitterness and salt, ready to roast him as many times as he wanted. His denial over some repressed feelings became stronger than ever, even when his methods were told right to his face. Then went to find his inner nature-lover and found him, taking old habits he had as a kid ( prior the destruction of his home ). His relief was short-lived because then was asked to teach how to be a good husband, by the same person he confessed his affections not long ago. His reaction was... a mix between sadness, disappointed and rage under a seemingly happy expression. It was messy.
Miserable but never stopping from trying to cheer up others, regardless how dumb and extravagant they were. To avoid negative thoughts he named them 'Kiyouki' as stopped associating them with himself, that way it'd be someone else and not him; it's complicated. It happened often, he having to push these feelings onto a corner of his mind. Or if the situation appears, use them in a creative and non-harmful manner. Trolling and sarcasm.
7. Sep. 2016 - Dec. 2016. Returned to his casino nights and had fun, good fun. He didn't talk about himself and time ran fast. Not many were around but he wouldn't complain. Still, his attitude got even more infantile and his emotions were fake half of the time. Sometimes would slip into a state of 'not feeling anything' without realise and sound insensitive. Little by little resigned to his inner hollowness, all while never stopping to make others happy. His sense of self-worth was almost completely gone. He just wanted to keep himself distracted enough to continue with his facade.
That's when his exhaustion began, his sadness and pain couldn't be hidden as before. It became a solid half of his personality, unlike the vague one when he started to doubt if Kiyouki was as dead as he liked to think. Doubts lurked on his mind, on the love and acceptation that people offered him, on himself and his own attitude, on everything. Insecure, lonely and still playing his act of fake happiness, he had a hard time keeping everything together. People would worry like before, they would feel bad... and he didn't want to go through that again. They deserved better and thus, Sakon continued as if nothing was wrong.
8. Jan. 2017 - Now. Then his trouble with Katsuie 'never having feelings for him' and Mitsunari's misunderstanding his 'attempts of befriending him' as flirting hit him harder than expected. Mitsunari is by far he is concerned, his saviour, one who accepted him before being Sakon. And Katsuie was the one he spent most of the time with and could talk about most topics without restraint. To him, it was a rejection from both sides. Certain idea of fake his lord's death to push him into killing Katsuie hit him too.
On his limit, hear that they liked him for his cheerfulness didn't help. He assumed they wouldn't like him anymore if gave in and freed his bottled up emotions, they would abandon him if couldn't keep going. Then Tama ignored his advice, scoldings and all he tried to dissuade her from her crush on Ieyasu. In his opinion, it would cause her many problems; including be accused of treason and he was terrified. Except that none of his words helped. Following his first big breakdown happened and lashed out at Tama. Die was a good option, he knew his mind would shatter if didn't take a break and yet couldn't see another way to stop feeling this way. Mistrusting, frustrated, unhappy and only loved because of his countless lies.
Adding to everything happening, he and Mitsuhide were honest about their identities and Tama wanting to kill herself. For that point onwards, he desperately escaped from himself. Napping, cutting conversations, and being mean at little provocation. Although crumbling, Sakon was too scared to ask for help. Try to being honest with another person aside the man who he knew that wasn't to be trusted was meaningless. As well, most of the questions he asked to Mitsuhide were ones he did to himself and couldn't find a satisfying response. It brought some comfort have someone to talk about those topics since nobody in the Toyotomi had experienced that kind of disconnection with oneself. He did want to be his friend and have fun.
What finally broke him was finding Tama dead. It all stopped, and he floated away in a half-asleep state. Sakon was taken to the Oda but wasn't here or there, he wasn't sure of what was doing anymore. Even when was brought back to the army, by Mitsunari himself no less, he felt nothing. ( If had stayed in the Oda, he could have been moulded into anything or anyone they wanted because nor Sakon or Kiyouki was inside. It was a body and a heavily bruised spirit ).
Every single smile afterwards was fake, there was no sense of enjoyment or happiness. Wake up and work was difficult. Talk with others and open up was scary. Driven by a fear of being replaced and/or abandoned, used his last strength to continue. And yet "you are… a light and a very bright one at that. Your charming nature and positive attitude… it is what is still keeping somewhat some sanity within the Toyotomi Army. It may not seem it at times, but I’m certain a lot could have happened should you not have come around when you did." What Mazasumi told him, pulled him further into despair. He didn't feel happy, he couldn't even fake being happy without it being obvious. Useless tools were meant to be thrown away and he wasn't different of one.
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perfect-corroscience · 5 years ago
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The Big Alto Mare Update
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Alto Mare is an incredibly expansive place, with a lot of things to do. For reference, I finished playing Sirius back in August, and I have over 800 screenshots for it! Here’s a bit of BGM for the area.
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The devs really like their Pokemon movies; much like Shamouti and New Island in the sequel, this entire area is a love letter to Pokemon Heroes. Anyway, Bianca asks us to head over to her house later as she has a favor to ask of us.
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“…small, injured Pokemon here.” She tells us the Pokemon is at Bianca’s home.
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The department store is pretty awesome as they have all these TMS on sale! It’s quite nice.
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This kid is pretty important, so keep him in mind.
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This guy entrusts you with delivering some tea to a lady elsewhere in the city. This is also important.
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This guy functions simulator to the egg-hatching incubators in Touhoumon games. It comes late, but it’s still nifty.
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Interestingly, Alto Mare has a gym, and May and Brendan are here! Gina – who will be familiar to people familiar with Pokemon Vega – is the leader.
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The elaborate building here has a Mirage Field that lets you battle a small selection of level 60 Pokemon. It’s a way to grind, I guess, or catch some new Pokemon if you wanted.
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While crossing here, you’ll catch a glimpse of the Latis. The guy over there will talk a bit about them.
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I’m sure this won’t come up later!
Here’s the lady you give the tea too. Yes, it’s important!
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A cool thing is that there’s a building where you can sit in and listen to all the gym leaders hold discussions over varying things. This discussion is about the status of Alto Mare’s gym, and whether it should be recognized as an official gym or not.
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For 500P, you can eat a meal here to gain a Moomoo Milk. It’s an interesting way of getting one, and we’ll need it.
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“…there used to be a house where a little girl lived, but… I wonder what happened to her?”
Hmm.
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This guy will give you a Rare Candy for 10 Nuggets. If you’re really patient, you could grind Nuggets from in the area and exchange them for Rare Candies. If you don’t have any left, you’ll want at least one for the kid who wants sweets.
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There are other uses for them, though: this guy can tutor these rather useful moves to your Pokemon in exchange for three Rare Candies.
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A couple buildings in Alto Mare have non-visible side entrances. Anyway, a chat with Bianca has her inform us that there are some sparkling stones around Alto Mare, and she wants you to collect them.
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There are 34 of them in total scattered all over the city.
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The fetch quest will take you all over Alto Mare. For what it’s worth, though, you can start collecting them as soon as you enter Alto Mare.
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The Pidgeotto runs as you get close, so it starts up a little mini-game of sneaking up and cornering it; it’ll give you a Nugget for your efforts, and you’ll get sent back to the Pokemon Centre afterwards.
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In lieu of checking everything in every building, just look up a guide, I guess.
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Self-explanatory. But what does Mosmero have to say?
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…oh!
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They’re generally all in these secret base accessories. Nice use of them though!
Also, the pretty stone is in that statue, but apparently the hack has a bug where interacting with it won’t actually give the “Found a pretty stone message!” However, if you collect the other stones, the story will progress without any issues.
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Another movie cameo! Lorenzo warns you of the area here being unsafe due to there being holes.
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They’re also outside, in some cases.
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What a surprising reference!
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The hole here drops you in Sphere Ruins! Lorewise, Alto Mare was built atop the ruins of the city. How does that correspond with the Sphere Ruins in Tohoak? Ah, that’s a story for another time.
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Braille translations, from left to right:
“WELCOME TO SPHERE CITY. SPHERE CITY WILL COLLAPSE SOON. AT LEAST ASPHERE IS IN A SAFE PLACE.”
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Following the path leads to a ladder that brings you back up here.
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So, with a champion whose team ranges from 68-74, you get a fight with a team that’s 60 at best. Well, par the course for these hacks. (That KO’d mon was a Breloom)
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And this should be the last pretty stone.
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These are levels more similar to what you’d expect a post-champion team to have. Yeah, I’m underleveled!
If you’re playing as Gordon, then April will have a very similar team. She’ll have everything but the starter (obviously dependent on yours), Mismagius, and Politoed (depending on your starter). DrAkimbo’s translation/walkthrough (he chose the Grass starter) had her use Mismagius/Roserade/Fire starter; if you chose the Fire starter, then she’ll have Water starter/Dusclops/Bakeko; and if you chose the Water starter, then she’ll have Grass starter/Necroshia/Kapwondo.
Gordon’s team will be different too if you chose another starter; if you chose Grass, he’ll have the Fire starter/Dusclops/Breloom, and if you chose Fire, he’ll have the Water starter/Magcargo/Necroshia.
After the fight, your rival will tell you that there’s a legendary hidden somewhere in the city.
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Bianca’s all happy to get the stones back, and this will open up another area in Alto Mare.
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The gym opens up, and we can find Brendan and May inside. They’ll say Gina isn’t ready, and indeed, she isn’t. There’s a bit more we need to do.
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This isn’t related to the Alto Mare quests, but this guy can be useful. Talking to him gives you the EV-raising vitamins.
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This is the Secret Garden, described as “the sanctuary of Latias and Latios.”
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Bianca will introduce you to the Latis and the Soul Dew, and helpfully informs you that you can battle them. The cute thing is that Bianca calls back to the events of her movie.
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“…and candy. There are words inscribed on the base: to the brave Latios that saved Alto Mare.”
Speaking of callbacks, this is something I like a lot.
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So whatever Lati you chose on the TV is honestly inferior to the ones you can catch here. In terms of fighting these two, they come with Recover but only know Psychic-type moves, so you can just park a Dark-type in front and lob balls.
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The Gym is ready, so we’re able to fight through. Interestingly, Brendan and May are the gym trainers.
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Hey, what happened to your shinies? Does he have a non-shiny version of his three ‘mons just sitting here for when he’s in Gina’s gym…?
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Some trees here have switches that change their layout; there are three of them, and the goal is to pave the way to Gina’s room up there in the right.
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May has a pretty varied team, too, as expected. I wonder if she has shinies of her own.
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The puzzle isn’t too complex. You could easily trial-and-error it.
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Wait no more!
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It’s another retroactively familiar face! Gina, or Ginno in Japanese, serves as the leader of Alto Mare. Her team is different than what was seen in ornidl gets clubbed by moonrunes.
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For starters, she’s specializing in a type. Having the Water starter is a bit of an oddball, but it’s not like the game has never thrown off-type wildcards at us before.
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In lieu of a badge or TM, we instead get… Ordina?
‘Ordina: Wha…
Gina: Go with this kid! Go out and see the world more! Don’t you think it’s better than being cooped up in here?’
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If you talk with Ordina beforehand, you’ll be told that “Ordina seems flustered.” I’m sure this didn’t help much. Gina makes a comment that Ordina is shy, and Celia is sent on her way.
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Our next destination is the Secret Garden, where Ordina is hiding. Bring something with Surf as we’ll have to be doing some searching for her. (Yes, her.  I can finally stop conspicuously avoiding using pronouns for her! I’m planning to do a bit of a brief update regarding Ordina.)
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This is a set spot, but when discovered, Ordina will teleport away to a different location. By the by, she’s also invisible, but you won’t be able to walk through her.
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She can also hide in the same spot despite teleporting away, so that’s fun. There are eight other places where she can be hiding, roughly marked in black below:
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You’re apparently supposed to find her a whopping twenty times before she’ll show up here (invisible, mind you), but I only had to find her about three times before she teleported here. I don’t know what happened – I did leave to get a mon with Surf, but I doubt that affected anything... unless it’s just you need to keep finding her until she decides to teleport up there?
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So, Ordina.
This is a bit of a mean puzzle by the devs; she absolutely has to be caught to progress further in Alto Mare, but that’s not as easy as it sounds. Unless you knew what was coming up and have a ‘mon set up for this, you’re unlikely to have something that can weaken her as you’ll have a party of Pokemon vastly outleveling her. False Swipe won’t work normally as she’s a Ghost-type. She’s a legendary and has the typical legendary catch rate of 3! You could KO her or flee, but then you’d have to redo the hide-and-seek game.
So, what’s the answer to this?
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Hope you didn’t use it earlier.
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Ordina is much like Mew or Jirachi, etc. in that she’s a legendary with base 100 stats across the board.
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Your rival will be here afterwards, and can be rematched. They’ll also let you know that Sphere Ruins is open, so that’s where we’ll be heading next.
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