#he’d also be so fascinated and impressed by you making a puppet

[kuroosdarling]

(୨୧ᵕ̤ᴗᵕ̤) : you’ve been matched with … AKAASHI !

@obitobrigade

[excitedlysuffering]

How would the members of Akatsuki be with a fem s / o who is a medical ninja?

Akatsuki With A Med Nin S/O

Since there’s so many of them, I’m making them a little shorter!

Pein~

He’ll be impressed with your skills, although he won’t typically need your help. If you don’t mind he’d like to watch you work sometimes and it’s kind of nice actually. Bonding over blood and guts we love it🥰

He’s also quite relieved because most of the Akatsuki are reckless and get injured all the time. Like four times a week you have at least one of them in your office reckless. Genuinely believes everything would fall apart without you.

Konan~

She believes you’re the true Angel from the first time she watches you heal someone. You were so at ease and in your element she finds you absolutely captivating.

Definitely yells at the boys for not being careful because, yes you’re strong and can handle a lot, but they’re getting injured all the time and it’s draining you. She’ll take care of you without fail everytime you reach, or exceed, your limit.

Itachi~

It’s kind of bittersweet to him. You have such talent with medical jutsu that you could probably cure him, but he can’t let you. He can’t be at full power if he wants Sasuke to kill him. He will let you help make him comfortable though. Like if he’s feeling particularly bad or with his poor eyesight.

Will try to put a limit on what’s worthy of your skills. If it’s not serious, you shouldn’t be wasting your energy on it (mainly because the others are idiots) and he’ll try to turn lesser injuries away. You might be the only med nin, but you’re not the only one in the base who can do medical work.

Kisame~

Finds you cooler than regular ninjas, because yeah you can kick ass and all that but you can also heal injuries that are typically death sentences. What’s not to love?? Brags about you all the time it’s not even funny. (At least to Itachi who has to listen to the highlights of every surgery you’ve ever performed)

Loves to hear you talk about it! He wants to learn as much as he can because he loves how excited you are and plus he’s a swordsman there’s a lot of benefits in knowing techniques that are virtually unhealable (that’s a word now don’t @ me). Overall totally enamored by everything you do.

Kakuzu~

FINALLY. That’s his reaction. He’s tired of having to deal with the idiots and their injuries. (ahem: Hidan) (Because Sasori is only willing to help Deidara and he still throws a fit about it) will definitely assist you though if you need it and is always open to sharing and learning tips/techniques.

When you fight together you probably have competitions to see who can kill the most people with a specific type of injury. (You and Kakuzu once killed 57 people by severing one specific artery in every person)

Hidan~

He sees you as his personal nurse and thinks that he gets priority over everyone else because you love him. (“Step aside, loser, I got stabbed!” “B-but your immortal! I’m bleeding out!” “Get yourself a doctor for a girlfriend then!”) Good luck with this one🙂

He’s alsways in your office/workspace just hanging out whether he’s hurt or not. Likes to see you in your space, doing your thing. Is present at every surgery he can possibly be at because he claims you look sexy covered in blood. He’ll try not to interrupt you but he can’t help but steal one six kisses while you look like that.

Sasori~

Very fascinated by your work. He’ll want to learn from you, as well as teach you things about treating poisons. He probably tests his new poisons out on random people so he can see if it’s easy for you to treat or not, so he can make them more dangerous. You also help him turn live victims into his puppets! So romantic what a keeper🥰

He’ll let you deal with Deidara’s injuries while he watches over your technique, but he’ll grumble if you treat the others especially Hidan. Thinks it’s a waste of your energy and that you’re above such things. He likes it when you don’t use your chakra so he can work with you on regular medical skills and he might even use chakra strings to guide you.

Deidara~

Is so curious about your work like when you’re healing someone it’s never quiet for more than a minute because he has so. Many. Questions. It’s kind of endearing though, because besides art, he’s not this fascinated by anything else. He likes it when you heal him because unlike Sasori, you’re careful to make it as painless as possible.

Tries to stop you from healing Itachi as much as possible. Like if he sees him with an injury he’ll whisk you away on a date or something because he’s that petty. You probably healed his arms and he does about everything he can for you because he feels so indebted to you like he’s so in love with you it’s not even funny🥰

[captainkurosolaire]

Heavy Ammunition

Undone from defeat the Ser now turned into a nightmarish knight of a chipped skull. Began moving his lower-extremities. All them prone and wheezing or unconscious. Silv’a stayed above. Like he always was anyway in his viewing beliefs. Glowering with resentment at Judas. Animosity laid with that one the most of all. If his older age and wisdom didn’t act on intuition his plan would all be foiled. By the most plain of the lot. Execution was being readied to be served up as the thawed bone’s arm began skeletal functioning between.

“Shalt have to disagree with you most unpleasantly. O’ dread, I beseech you to meet red-comet. Often fate can sting like a piercing hornet.” A lute played in string. Before a rocketing crimson-lance of bottom hilt flashfire swept over and sent the puppeted knight being attached and stuck to the wall from impalement. With such a terrifying might.

An obnoxious laughter of jolly a battle-thirstier. As a Roe came inbound following suit with thuds of heaviness. “It’s so difficult to watch my strength within this dinky little hole.” Even though the chamber’s were massive the building wouldn’t be able to contest with his fire which was unfortunately too risky to use with allies. The last squadron of the Crew showed up in a pair five. A lalafell brought in a beach chair and propped it down and sat down just drinking her juice. Now the reinforced firepower had arrived. Facepalming while enthusiastically screaming Silv’a “Really more?!!?! They just keep lining up to die!” Irritation was demonically being infused as his undoing. This Band of Gold was truly an annoying bunch. One falls another to take front and center. It actually benefited them that they were all distant apart and didn’t all arrive at once. The louder gallant voice of Roe heartily broke a shout, “Kid ya’ alive?” Captain mumbled between the floor. Gark quipped, “Kay.” He'd take that as enough. A viera hopped with a spiritedly step before leaping over and coming between the duo of Noble and Captain. “Sorry we’re late. Me-Me wanted a detour, she insisted… You know how it goes.” She bubbly said. The Lalafell kept slurping on her straw with the continent with a massive slurpee. That terrifying um, ‘little’ menace was quite possibly the most fearsome of all the mates. Don’t refer to her by any tiny stature or treat her as such. Captain just murmured <Mmm-hmm> trying to remind, of mortally bleeding out over here and in agony. The short Viera huffed her puffy cheeks before recognizing what she needed to do and began grabbing the duo by the wrists to drag into a corner away from the center again and get into obstruction. “I’ll have to decline you. Those sinners haven’t suffered enough. I’ve grown to want them to see me in succeeding with all this resistance, have a taste and join them would you!” An intense fire came hurling at the preoccupied bunny who’s pink hue sparked defenselessly. Water came raining and doused it effortlessly. Two prayer hands together came with a Sea-Maiden looking Roe woman now intervening. “Gark. I shall contend with the Caster, would you please rid the Knight?” A bone crackling thud of his own collar bone snapped out a muscle knot, “Gladly m’lady.” He’d chivalrously advance with clacks of chain-mail, draconic by the etching making. The material would make the most experienced blacksmith quite impressed. Right when Silv’a nearly cradled this end he foolishly met a dinging bell signaling this was still to begin. Among the Crew. There was a structure of power-hierarchy when it came to independence and also those who excelled better in support or team. Each matey held their own extreme weaknesses and flaws whether personality, or, ability. Some weren’t yet pushed or aware of them. Whilst others with their age nearly were incomprehensible with their battle prowess and room commandment. Far above even their own Captain escapades. Weak or strong it mattered little for the same course required all but the tentatively steer of all roles aboard that’s what ruled reign to spoil in all the hoards. Sheik Sphere jotted down this entertaining showdown for the records. Never losing his passion to share and kindle this with fellow passionate readers or to sing it among those of all. While he never combated harm. He had a unique unwavering charisma to avoid it personally remaining seen as too neutral. This was literature fascinating to savor! The matron Sea Wolf gingerly came advancing in against this most heinous. Her white-shark spectacles were softened with a brow. Almost showing pity for this demon. By some strange sensation she felt too eerily familiar as if something was buried beneath every depth of the surface. Trying to explore it would certainly risk drowning and being sunken to the bottomless sea. Her posing pray set him off, radiating apologies. His demonical outlook would handle this manner. One swift hand motion he’d unleash a wall of icy that rapidly drew forth her aspected water was meaningless to his mastery. While it may be true. Elastically watering the most manipulatively potent she stacked and built a tide large enough to withhold density and overly reach bigger heights than his initial walls. Closing her eyes. “Thine trencherman born salt to sea, I call upon thee, children of the deep!” Intense powerful glowering of her irises came as the ice and water connected, freezing at the surface and spreading rapidly. Before trident’s broke through as two conjured Sahagin Egi’s came bellowing out with their own glowing golden eyes.   Their flipper leave the containment, and puncture the demon from midair in the shoulder each. One more elementally made, while the other was scale made and naturally. “Ravage thou land-savages who bring equal pain throughout the sea.” Each of them growing empowered by her boisterous wishes. “He who hurts until one welts, deserves the tide’s sweeping without remorse.” They kept piercing the demonical wizard over and over unrelentingly with a feverishness. His immortality made quite resilient. Organs constantly being gushingly punctured like tarp bait flapping over a boat. Each erupting step of blood from his puncturing and mouth.

He found wherewithal to grapple their trident’s and conduct electricity attempting to fry the Sahagin from the link as the one who was more watery based let go and vaporized it was rapidly reformulating. The scale seemed null too as it didn’t let up. Before lifting up the kabob pierced the treacherous foe and let him go upstream into the ceiling from a non relenting geyser. Pinned he was struggling to contend with this might, unable to get his counter in. Her magic didn’t grow weaker, it was continuously building up and getting more vast. She fearsome conveyed as a magnificent threat he identified. Ever overpowering wrath he began trying to loosen it but he wasn’t finding success. To attempt to resist the current was a foul law he wouldn’t find. He brought upon his ice only for the temperature of the water to become steaming hot. The Inside and entire body was screeching in boiling water. A merging water induced egi found it’s regeneration and binding into the same waters only able to reformulate acidic properties, make the water start melting flesh. Reaching out his fingers he’d point outwardly in the distance before a humongous fallen column pillar broken in half came wedging between him and the hard place and then engulfing the geyser’s source using telekinesis. Which gave destruction to the combined aetherial Egi. Shaking completely before charging at the other Scaly-Egi before the other could pursue. Grappling it’s face and soaring himself with a push of heel electrical aether he’d return that favor of being dismantled against the wall. A trident once again snagged into him and linked the duo close. Regeneration was slow because of the acid as equally contesting the forces. His own palm began to get the same from grappling the jaws of this beastkin. Flame came out of SIlv’a as a response as they would wager against each other two destructiveness. The trident began again creating a vortex of water trying to push and repel him away from the wall or once again setting Silv’a back but his demoniacal fury became even more enlarged and massively maddened.                         (Previous) << (Voidal Relics) >> (Next)

[jonspurpleskirt]

An Unlikely Befriending

Summary: Jon gets kidnapped. Jon gets bored. And Jon makes very unlikely friends because of it. Aka: Pen and Paper saves the day (world) and Jon finally gets to have a band. A/N: This is pure fluff, no warnings apply I think. ___

The worst thing about being kidnapped by a crazy mannequin murder clown monstrousity and sitting in a cold, room with creepy wax works, tied to a chair was not the ever present terror. True the fear of Nikola finally deeming his skin good enough and skinning him alive was quite potent, but it wasn't as bad as boredom.

Jon had never taken well to waiting. His mind needed to be occupied 24/7, needed something to latch onto, to obsess about. It's why he became a researcher in the first place. Having most of his freedom taken from him made occupying himself very hard.

At least they still let him eat and drink here and there. Nikola always visited personally, her overly cheery voice bubbling forth as she chattered away while slathering him with lotion or shoving bits of take out food in his mouth. His diet those last two weeks had been very varied and healthy and he had never drank so much water before.

He still probably looked a mess, what with no access to a shower and barely being able to sleep at all. And the constant terror. Oh yeah and the boredom.

Oh the boredom.

Jon was currently sitting in his chair as he was wont to do. Thankfully not nailed down despite all the nagging from Sarah Baldwin. The coffin was singing or moaning with a slight melody behind it, depending on who you asked. And somehow Jon found himself humming along, trying to find a good melody to go with the haunting tune. It wasn't like he had anything better to do and if he didn't start doing something creative his mind would start eating itself soon.

So he hummed, experimenting with the notes, twisting them into something that was reminiscent of circus music and airships. And then he kept humming the melody over and over, forming words in his mind to go with the tune. Once the spark was lit a fire started to burn, the story branching out and out into a twirling mass of chaos and fire.

He had gotten lost in his imagination, hadn't noticed how loud he had become, hadn't heard Nikola approach. Jon screeched when she leant down over him and grinned at him upside down, nose nearly touching his.

Nikola had the gall to laugh at him, no breath fanning over his face as she did so.

"Awww Archivist! I didn't know you had such a nice voice!"

"Hrmph."

"Yes your singing was also quite good!" She straightened herself, back cracking in several places. Striding around his chair she towered over him, tattered, bloody ringmaster uniform filling his field of vision.

"I'm glad you feel comfortable enough to sing, of course! And the broken repeat is lovely."

"Hm."

"Anyway water time!"

With gleeful cackling she ripped the tape from his mouth, amused enough to not immediately shove the bottle between his teeth.

"There are words to it, too." Jon rushed to say, not exactly sure why. What was he offering her here? A solo performance?

"Oh?" she at least didn't tape his mouth shut again. For now.

After waiting several beats where both stared at each other and nothing else happened Jon dared to speak up again.

"I ah... well I wrote it myself? Not wrote, of course. My hands are tied at the moment-" He was rambling. Nikola had given him the freedom of speech and he was off like a shot, telling her everything about what he had been thinking about before she had interrupted his impromptu jamming session, terror completely terminating his brain to mouth filter.

Nikola, for her part, took it all in stride. She even settled on the floor in front of him, blinking every now and then to indicate that she was still present.

"It's such a shame." she finally spoke, holding the water bottle to his mouth, letting him drink of his own volution for once. "You would have made a perfect piece for the choir. Hm maybe what will be left of you will do."

"I could sing for you now." Jon offered as soon as his mouth was free again.

Nikola startled at the offer and Jon just shrugged as much as he was able to. He'd rather sing to a creepy murder doll than spend one minute longer alone and bored out of his mind. And if he could delay the Unknowing (and the violent removal of his skin) by keeping Nikola entertained than even better.

That sounded like he almost had a plan. Which was untrue. He only had a very strong desire for entertainment.

"No sneaky questions." Nikola warned.

"Promise. I can't guarantee good quality rhymes, though. I'm still workshopping."

Singing out loud what had been in his head was always an awkward affair. He had wanted to start a band with Georgie in uni. But it was exactly because of this that he had never bothered.

"That was fun!" Nikola screamed after he was finished nontheless. Clapping her hands in delight, which created a horrible cracking noise.

"I'm glad? I also DM."

She tilted her head at him. "What's that?"

Jon explained the concept of pen and paper games to her while she rubbed lotion into his skin and had her hooked immediately.

Later that day (or maybe the next day, really Jon had no concept of time anymore) Jon was for the first time allowed out of his chair, carefully rubbing circulation back into his hands. Nikola had only briefly left him alone after watering and lotioning him. They had hashed out what kind of world and system they wanted to use (a horror setting, of course) and then Nikola was off and dragging Breekon and Hope back into the room so they had enough people to play.

Either Breekon or Hope sat down behind Jon, large hands lightly clasping his arms, squeezing every once in a while to remind him that should he try and escape he would only end up in pain.

Jon shifted awkwardly in the grip, unused to gentleness even if it was supposed to be threatening.

"Alright. First, character creation. Who do you guys want to play?"

It became a daily thing. The three beings in his group quickly became addicted to his story telling and to the characters they were allowed to play. Nikola tore through characters, trying on different personalities like pieces of clothing. She had a beautiful eery singing voice, Jon was surprised to find out when she had decided to play a member of a steampunk band.

Breekon and Hope were less manic, too attached to their twins to play anyone else. They changed voices and accents every session, though. Jon deigned to ignore their shenanigans, scared to make them angry. He hadn't had this much fun in ages, he didn't want to loose that.

The two delivery men took turns holding him down while they played, Hope holding onto his arms and Breekon using him like a child would a Teddy bear.

Eventually the three lingered after their sessions had ended, the ropes that tied him to his chair less tight. Jon tried to keep the conversations casual, to not ask all the questions that burned at the tip of his tongue. He found that he didn't need to. Tongue loose from goofing around Nikola was often chatty, Breekon and Hope throwing in their two cents every once in a while.

Eventually the topic about Tims younger brother came up.

"Danny Stoker? Grimauldi skinned him? Hm..." Nikolas head nearly dislodged as she stared at the ceiling in thought. "Noooo." She giggled. "We didn't skin anyone that night, silly! We were scoping out locations for the dance! Danny's little group stumbled into us and got a little confused~"

"But Tim saw Grimauldi rip Dannys skin off of a puppet."

Nikola shrugged. "An illusion. We're good at making you people see things that aren't really there. Yet."

"So Danny is alive?"

"I believe so!~ If he didn't die in a ditch somewhere."

Jon was very careful to keep his voice as soft as possible with the next question. "Could you find him again and bring him to the Institute? To Tim and... I don't know... maybe that's a stupid idea given that he can't be sure it's really him..."

"If I track him down do I get inspiration for my character next session?"

"That's cheating." Breekon complained under his breath behind Jon.

"I... yes?"

Nikola grinned. "Wonderful! I see what I can do!"

Days went by like that, Nikola or Breekon or Hope updating him on Dannys search, which had turned out to be harder than they had thought. Well at least Jon was keeping them busy.

They were in the middle of racing a burning train into the central bank of London when a door creaked behind Jon, bathing the room in technicolour and spiral shapes.

"That is not what I thought I'd find here." A voice that wavered between confused and gleeful mused.

Jon twisted in the grip Breekon had on him. "Hello Michael."

"Hello Archivist. You've found yourself in an interesting situation." The grin Michael shot him was a knife glinting in the light before striking.

"Yes. Why are you here?"

Nikola had let him practice after Jon had explained his lack of training, much more lax with her hostage now that he fed her fascinating stories of blood and gore. So there was no trace of compulsion in his voice when he asked the question.

Michael answered truthfully anyway. "I came to kill you of course!"

"I have dips on that!" Nikola said, voice pleasant and grin feral.

"I'm sorry about that. Would you like to join the game instead?"

Michael stared at him as though he had grown mad. Impressed, curious and lightly terrified. Then it laughed that horrible, headache inducing laugh.

"There's a lot of lies and delusion." Jon coaxed, heart beating out of his chest with nerves.

"He's a good storyteller." Hope added, Nikola and Breekon nodding along.

"Hm alright. I guess I can play for a bit."

It didn't stay just for a bit. Michael stayed through the finale of the story and then demanded to start another, their little ragtag group of definitely not heroes causing more chaos than any other player group Jon had ever DMed before. And that was saying something. Hours upon hours passed, Michael disappearing and reappearing to get Jon coffee and tea to keep his voice from giving out.

In the middle of it all Michael began twitching and twisting, glitching in and out of sight before slumping to the ground with a groan, form for once near comprehensible. Another door opened and out walked Helen looking down at the Distortion in disappointment.

"Oh that didn't destroy you. Shame."

"Helen?"

"Hello Jon! I was coming to rescue you given that Michael got a little distracted. Do you want to come to the archives with me?"

Honestly Jon should have been shocked, probably angry. He was definitely sad. And yet the most he felt was just an overwhelming sense of whelp.

Jon vaguely gestured towards Nikola, as much as Breekons hold allowed him to. "Ask her."

"We're not done yet."

"Later then?"

Nikola considered Jon for a long moment, both staring unblinking at each other. "Give us an hour."

To Jons great surprise Helen just nodded and delicately sat on the chair Jon usually frequented in his "freetime" all prim and proper except for the long sharp fingers curling at the edges like corkscrews.

"Now where were we?"

Michael groaned from the floor for once not smiling. Jon felt a twinge of sympathy for him.

"Are you alright?"

"Been better. Been worse. Let's burn this village down!"

There was no end to the tale they had been playing, not with just one session of playtime. Jon felt a bit bad about that, especially because he had left it at a cliffhanger. No one seemed to be angry at him for it, though. Michael had recovered fast and was again his usual ominous cheery, albeit lightly aggressive self. He poked and prodded at Helen like a curious cat while Nikola massaged lotion into Jons skin for the last time and handed him several expensive looking bottles, rattling down a step by step skin care routine he was to follow to the t or else she would break into his house and do it herself.

Hope patted him on the head. "See you around, Archivist."

"You're really letting me go? Just like that?" Jon still couldn't believe it.

Nikola shrugged. "I found another option. And I'd like to keep doing this after the Unknowing."

"Will that be even possible?"

The grin he got from was not at all reassuring. "I don't know~"

Well that was probably the best he would get from her. Jon gave a hesitant tiny wave and, flanked by both Michael and Helen stepped through their door.

Back at the archive no one had even questioned his disappearance. A fact that made Michael and Helen laugh, even though they both refused to leave as Tim, Melanie and Basira questioned him about his whereabouts.

Martin was the only one who took Jons forced vacation in stride. Maybe he even was a little too happy about a group of mannequins harassing him to take better care of himself.

"You're not compromised now, are you?" Basira asked when Jon had settled back into his office after a long shower.

"No? Because I still don't want the world to end?"

"Good."

Somehow Jon knew that she would still keep an eye on him from now on.

~~~

When the day came to blow up the ritual site Jon hadn't slept a wink in three nights and was overcome by guilt. Despite how aweful his initial time at the circus had been and despite him knowing what horrible things Nikola and her kin did in their freetime, Jon still felt bad about probably killing her.

He tried to rationalize his feelings away, connecting his rising anxiety with the fact that Danny still hadn't been found. It was a flimsy denial.

Tim stayed by his side the whole time, resolute in his burning desire for vengeance. Jon was scared that he would loose him to this, too. Had confessed as much to Michael and Helen, who had taken to keeping at least one door manifested somewhere in the tunnels at all times. The two had started to get along well after some initial disagreement. The Spiral, split as it was between the two of them, was weaker in its influence now, leaving more of Michael Shelley and Helen Richardson to make decisions.

They weren't here now. Daisy, Basira and Tim were, setting up explosives and arguing about rescuing people that were already long dead.

And then Nikola appeared and the dance started and nothing made sense anymore.

Jon woke up six months later, Georgie calling him a monster and Basira giving him a statement to "eat" catching him up on everything he had missed. Tim had miraculously survived, having been dragged through a door by either Helen or Michael. Daisy and Basira had encountered Breekon and Hope, who had argued about what they should do with "Jons feral friends" and in the end had led them savely out of the building before it could go boom, muttering about possible inspiration points.

The only one who hadn't been saved was Jon. He tried not to feel too hurt about that.

Coming back to work was as anti climatic as it had been after the kidnapping. The only one who seemed happy to see him was Martin. He had apologized profusely for the hug and promptly stopped doing so when Jon dashed forward and back into Martins warm embrace, finally breaking down.

He had been too caught up in his crying to make a note of the little kiss Martin pressed into his hair.

They all were a little lost after averting the apocalypse, normal everyday life eluding them. Elias might have been out of the picture for the moment, but Peter Lukas had taken over and fighting against the isolation was taking its toll on everyone.

They were all huddled in the breakroom, faces grim and stewing in silence so as to not break into an arguement when they got their delivery.

Breekon and Hope stepped into the small space with their usual nonchalance dragging a scared young man between them, who had a lot of resemblance to Tim.

"Delivery for Jonathan Sims. Nikola says hi."

Tim was the first one up. "No... No no nononononono that can't be. He's dead. Jon. Jon tell me is that really him?!"

Jon looked at the scared man, who had his gaze locked on Tim, recognition slowly dawning on his face. He Looked and he Knew.

"Yes. No one was killed the night Danny disappeared. His group encountered Nikola and her troupe during a rehearsal, got confused and then lost. And was lost ever since. Nikola told me of this. She promised to find him for me, for you."

That was all Tim needed to rush forward, catching his brother in his arms and hugging him close. "Danny!"

Danny clung back just as tightly, awareness barely back. Still obviously shaken and confused.

Jon smiled at the two delivery men. "Thank you. Will he... will he be alright."

Hope shrugged. "Dunno. Nikola said to make him remember bit by bit. Been not Danny for a long time. Might need to get used to it again."

"We'll take it slow." Tim promised, silent tears streaming down his face.

"Good luck. Hey Archivist, do we get inspiration, too?"

Jon laughed, incredulous. The others in the room watched the exchange with varying degress of exasperation and outrage.

"You know what? Yes. Yes you have. And I'll give you all advantage on your rolls next session. Only that one session, though! Same for Nikola. How is she, by the way?"

Breekon made a so-so sign. "Restless. We've waited over six months to find out what happens after  that cliffhanger you gave us."

"Right." He still couldn't believe it. "Tonight 8 o'clock, my flat?"

Twin grins, the most excited he had ever seen them. "See you then, Archivist."

Tim was still gently hushing his brother, rocking back and forth on his feet to try and calm him down a little. And he still had tears streaming down his face, looking like an absolute wreck. But he still managed to join the unimpressed stares that were thrown his way by everyone but Martin, who at this point had just started to roll with the punches.

"You really befriended the clown club and made them rescue literally all of us?" Basira asked in a deadpan voice.

"I kind of feel cheap now." Daisy muttered. "As though those clowns let us win."

"Look, what can I say? Pen and Paper games are fun. I can't blame them. And Nikola did want to start a band."

"Oh my god." Melanie groaned, her head thunking onto the table. "I can't believe it."

"A band?" Basira asked, suddenly much more alert. They really had gotten quite desensitized to the whole monster thing, hadn't they? "What, you can sing?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. But really. Shouldn't we... I mean shouldn't we focus on Danny? There's a cot-"

"I know." Tim interrupted. "We all know there's a cot. I'll take him home, you keep talking about your weird band plans. Monster boss? We talk later, but... thank you."

Silence reigned long enough to follow Tim out of the Institute before Martin piped up, cheeks reddening before he had even opened his mouth. "Could we... Could we have a taste?"

"A taste? Of what? My voice?"

"Hold up, if Sims is going to sing I'll have to record it." Melanie tapped on her phone and held it into the room as one would do a microphone. "Alright go."

Jon sighed, what he didn't do to keep up the group morale.

"Aww shit." Was Basiras conclusion when he was done. "What kind of music were you thinking of playing?"

"Steampunk."

"Count me in."

~~~

Today had been weird, Jon thought, mind reeling from the whiplash of... kindness? That had happened after the delivery of one Danny Stoker. Granted the last month, no

year

had been weird. But this had topped it all. At least it had been a nice weird.

Jon had nearly forgotten about his appointment with a certain group of Strangers when he got back to his flat, overworked, hungry and still processing. So he should be forgiven for the scream he let out when he saw three large figures huddling on his too small couch.

"You haven't been taking care of your skin at all!"

There was no time to duck away from the cold, hard hands that fluttered all over his body. Nikola squished his cheeks like a proper grandmother, clearly unhappy about their elasticity.

"I was in a coma for six months."

"And awake for a few weeks now." A cheerful male voice said from behind him, bringing the smell of pizza with it.

"We were there he didn't take care of himself at all!" Helen added, putting down several cans of soda and what looked to be instant coffee.

"You're horrible!" Nikola wailed, manhandling him until he was squished between Breekon and Hope. "All my beautiful work! Ruined!"

"Uh... sorry?"

"You can make it up to us with weekly sessions." Michael suggested with a grin.

"Both on Saturday and Sunday!" Helen added.

"I actually planned for Sunday to be band day." Jon lied. "Basira wants to join, by the way."

They were all settled around the small coffee table now, food and drink on the floor so they had enough place to roll their dice.

"Wonderful! What did you think we'd name it?"

Jon tilted his head given the illusion of thinking it over even though he had known what to name his band since highschool.

"The Mechanisms."

[otverzhennyy]

Viktor on every Harbingers.

As stated before, Viktor’s loyalty tend to be more to the people of Snezhnaya and the Harbingers than the Tsaritsa, who he sees more as a faceless tradition despite, yes, believing in the cryo archon’s mission. However, when it comes to his daily life, it is actually the Harbingers who possess his devotion.

Viktor is implied to have, at the very least, witnessed the harbingers which I imagine are during Fatui events, speeches and such, and is knowledgeable of both their way of work, their abilities, the personality they present, quirks and what the other Fatui think of them in general. This is a post based on the information we got so far in canon, the Commedia dell’arte and of course liberal interpretations to flesh out Viktor’s relation towards the harbingers, it is HEAVILY subject to change.

This list goes from who Viktor would like to work for the LEAST to the MOST. Viktor admires all Harbingers and see how incredible they are to the Fatui cause, but this is purely him speaking selfishly in terms of working under them.

SCARAMOUCHE Scaramouche is implied by Viktor to be pretty much universally disliked by the Fatui, which is supported by his shown temper. Scaramouche is one to belittle and not respect underlings, even potentially harming them physically through electro, and lead them with fear. Scaramouche throws emotional, gratuitous tantrums.

This is something Viktor cannot respect when strictly speaking of ways to run the chain of commands. This is no way to be a leader, not when you do not have reasons to apply this kind of authority. Scaramouche’s devastating power, however, is no joke, and given that the Tsaritsa has had her own reason to choose him, there is no question that Viktor would answer the man’s call and orders, but would he enjoy his daily working life under such a self-centered man with no respect for the lives he is responsible for but his own ? Not really. He’d sooner ask for a transfer... which is, unfortunately, not really possible within the Fatui, as you are to believe that where you are stationed is where you should be.

PIERRO Pierro’s crazed antics constantly have one question his state of mind, and his chaotic mockery and obvious bitterness are made for a sour association, where one can never really rest as the man is too unpredictable. Underlings unable to guess what his plans are, given he never tell anyone anything.

Pierro doesn’t care what happens when his subordinates are sent on assignments, not caring if they are casualties or not. As someone who values his life, even if he is loyal and swore an oath to the chain of command, Viktor much rather stay alive. The man is... devastating.

SANDRONE Sandrone uses underhanded tricks and manipulates people to get what he wants, hiding behind a face of kindness to the people. Although Viktor is one to recognize the grey areas of politics, which is, politics is everywhere in any social interactions, Sandrone stands out because he is not influencing people’s judgements, he is a hypocrite who takes advantage of commoners when they meet their lowest points.

This, alongside his eerie puppets... is absolutely terrifying. Viktor cannot help but, unlike Scaramouche where he sees the immaturity and lack of professionalism of one man, feel genuine fear... and fascination. The things he could learn from this man, he cannot even start to comprehend.

PULCINELLA Pulcinella is the harbinger in charge of the Fatui’s military and, alternatively, its recruits camp. Viktor would be more than happy to give his body for the nation if needed, even if the battlefield is not his ideal position.

Technically, all Fatui receives a form of military training. The difference with Pulcinella is mainly that the Skirmishers are constantly enhanced through the Fatui technology, modified as their body belongs to the nation. Viktor personally has no interest in being cut open and changed, as he spent a significant amount of time perfecting his form and knowing his own body. Not everyone has the mental fortitude to be more than happy to be pumped with drugged and have their brain reconstructed to be a better martial weapon.

PANTALONE As the one gathering all funds related to Snezhnaya and the Fatui, working for Pantalone is about contributing to the wealth of the nation, an absolute vital part which, however, comes with a ruthless environment. Whereas politics and influence are more subjective, wealth is about cold, hard numbers in an unsure, competitive scene.

Although Viktor is the first one to tell that there is no bad way to gather money and actually admire the length the man goes for the nation’s mission, what is more of a desk job with very little flexibility (the way political debates and diplomatic exchanges do) is bound to bore him out, thinking like his wits could be used elsewhere.

TARTAGLIA When there is need for intimidation, Tartaglia Childe is the one sent by her Lady Tsaritsa. When there is need for muscles on the field, Tartaglia Childe is also the one sent. Although Viktor’s hunting background would technically make his skills appropriate for the task, Viktor is still not one who actually enjoys applying, let’s say, physical matters, especially unconventional ones Tartaglia Childe is sent into : it is not a straightforward army VS army combat. It is something which require finesse... a dangerous game which doesn’t necessarily fit Viktor.

As for the young lord himself, although he is one of the most respectable harbinger, Tartaglia’s impulsiveness and free spirit is known to suddenly put operations into chaos, without him going through the proper channels. This, honestly sounds both thrilling, rewarding and amazing... which is not Viktor’s cup of tea. However, Tartaglia has been proven to be the harbinger who respects underlings the most as individuals, despite his casual attitude giving some rookies the false impression that he is a softie... it just makes getting a disciplinary action from him harder.

SIGNORA La Signora is her majesty’s most direct representative in the manners of political and courtly presence. Although working for Signora is a door to open many opportunities to political events for one’s ascension in their career, Signora knows the game... and plays it dirty. Many threats are given under technically diplomatic moves, and as someone who hates losing time on something else than her goals, she has no olive branch to any subordinate, who are pawns for her to be at her service like a mighty mistress... but her ways are always so bloody efficient, the results speak for her manners. Always ahead of the whole court. A queen in any place she walks in.

Technically, Viktor cannot complain about his position, although he is very disgruntled about being that low in the food chain... and extremely neglected. Sigh. Even if he is one to not bother about a pause to his advancements, Viktor cannot get, at least, the satisfaction of doing something for his home... because he’s not doing anything and he’s denying the fact that he’s been forgotten.

DOTTORE Dottore is the most cerebral and knowledgeable of the harbingers, with actual results and hard work to show. As someone in need of mental stimulation, Viktor cannot help but be mesmerized at the constant studying opportunity, under a man who knows exactly what he is doing, what he wants, and makes it clear.

The practical application of skills and sense of professionalism make Dottore both a harbinger Viktor personally admire greatly and would like to work under : with such talent which shouldn’t, for Viktor, be wasted for a single second, he is no scientist, but would gladly do anything to remotely be useful to him. Dottore is actually one of the three harginers where Viktor’s respect, for various reasons, actually cancel part of the fear he would normally get from a man doing such harsh experiments.

CAPITANO The first time Viktor laid his eyes on Capitano, he’d never forget. For whatever reason the man was in his region, probably some undisclosed assignments, he had never seen a man breathing so much charisma by merely existing. Amidst the men who’d try to appear strong and tall, Capitano didn’t have to be the tallest or largest to be absolutely mesmerizing. A man who commanded authority by presence alone.

He needed to be like him. And this is when a young Viktor decided to join the Fatui, not telling a single word that a single man triggered it all. Viktor doesn’t see himself as someone with particular talent, drive or patience to change the world... but if he could be half the man his idol was, that would be enough... but did he want to be the man, or solely be by his side, even if it meant potentially never working under him ? ... both.

As a recruit, Viktor would always run to the pavilion up the Fatui base to see Capitano entering the premises whenever his arrival was announced, watching from afar, get information on what the man had been up to. The stories of the man’s conquests, exploring uncharted territories while keeping such a solemn expression, an inspiring leader who’d run his affairs with the most unforgiving grip, to the perfection, with every bit of professionalism and no break in his composure.

If Viktor was to work under this man, he wouldn’t care a single bit about the treatment on his person. If he can be the slightest bit not indirectly, but directly useful to such a man, he would gladly serve him with every bit of devotion he has. Travelling at his side with the most powerful assets to the Fatui, each challenge only one exciting puzzle after one another.

If Viktor sees the holy Tsaritsa as the Fatui’s queen, Capitano is his King.

[yaboyspodcastpalace]

For the character asks: Jon, Peter Lukas, Annabelle Cane? (giving multiple suggestions so you can pick one in case you get the same character twice in different asks)

very kind of you to assume i get many asks :') THANKS ill do all of them u_u

[Send me a character and i'll tell you...]

(under the cut bc i love talking and this got long lmao)

Jon

First impression

he's a uptight prick with obvious favoritism for sasha and tim and i love him so! much!!!!!!

Impression now

my poor little mew mew hm................I've got a complicated relationship w/ jon bc i love him a lot, but i loved s1 him the most, and literally everything else just makes me really, brutally, sad ;_; The way he tries so desperately to cling to his humanity and how other characters just call him by the title imposed to him makes me wanna cry

...also he just cares so much ;_; i cry

Favorite moment

probably his interactions with georgie at the beginning of season 3!!! From s5 id say when he killed not!sasha, it felt vindictive ù_ú

Idea for a story

Dhfhdh im p basic when it comes to him ngl, either jon/tim/sasha friends to lovers or jon and desolation!tim or *something*!sasha trying to stay as human as possible, together 😔 (or just any of them living and coping together in s4 n s5)

Unpopular opinion

Im just not a fan of monster jon, at all! He's not the type of character that i enjoy seeing having a corruption arc unfortunately!! It just hurts!!! (and this Is from someone that Loves corruption arcs!!!)

Also i really hate moth jon imagery??? For not particular reason, moths are pretty, but i still hate it u_u AND THE ASSOCIATION OF GREEN W/ JON (or the beholding in general!) I CANNOT STAND IT!! i know its bc of the tma logo but guess what! Its wrong! Purple jon rights!!!

ALSO ALSO the so called pining he had for martin just.... didnt felt like that at all! i have Many feelings abt this!

Favorite relationship

either georgie in s3, or sasha!!! i love how he always praises sasha in her research in s1 and even thought he's at his driest & sharp Trying-To-Project-Professionalism-And-Skepticism she still rolls into his office, interrupts him mid statement to banter w/ him abt pronunciation n stuff and its just Normal, like that speaks volumes of how comfortable they felt around each other! they were friends gdi! the moment he realizes she died and then everytime the not!them mocks him w/ her death makes me wanna break smth q_q

im not even gonna mention tim bc even though i love their relationship It 👏 makes me👏 very 👏 sad 👏

non shippy and also staying strictly canon, i love his relationship with melanie!

Favorite headcanon

sometimes i think abt that one hc that hes really good with arcade games bc he lived near the coast and i smile bc thats cute :) also hes a trans man 💙💗🤍💗💙

Peter

First impression

Mystery evil captain man!!! Fog?? I LOVE him :)

Impression now

I STILL LOVE HIM SO MUCH!!!!!!!!! Hes an asshole and has a lovely voice and smile and hes not, hes not Dumb but also he's far from the whooooa evil lonely influence he think he is (played like a cheap fiddle). He also makes me sad in ways i cannot and wont describe, and its a shame that he died cuz he was the best part of season 4 😔 rip you beautiful bastard man i still miss you </3

Favorite moment

"It has blood on it" "thats Leitner's too :D". Also when martin was angry abt idk, breekon? Jon going into the coffin? Cant remember, but peter was like I said id protect the institute, that guys not my problem ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Idea for a story

dfgdfg i have..... a petermart story that dealt with the different flavor of loneliness they both had, half smut half genuine meta of both of them and theorization on the branching of an Entity & how their powers manifested in other people...

basically, peter thinks hes hot shit when it comes to loneliness but gets overwhelmed when martin accidentally projects his feelings abt *fic's plot stuff* on him, its fun stuff!

Unpopular opinion

people either paint him like an absolute devil or an incompetent idiot and hes neither of them! hes an asshole who loves being an asshole but far from the worst monster in the show and he tried to do a clever scheme TWICE on his life and 1. while it was established that any of the rituals wouldnt work singularly the Silence was still a pretty clever attempt if it weren't for gertrude! and 2. well... he tried to manipulate someone petty and formerly supposed to be a web avatar, again not his fault, cant call him stupid for trying dfgdfg

i Do think hes kinda pathetic in some sense considering his backstory, but more out of personal pity than anything else

Favorite relationship

Canonically speaking him and martin! The pull and push of them was The best thing about season 4! Peter being a quite dangerous avatar and martin, beautiful and scared and kinda feisty, confronting him every chance he gets, peter doing his best to manipulate him and martin letting him believe hes succeeding (even thought, he is, partly). They're fascinating characters to have side by side

Favorite headcanon

Partly canonically speaking him and mikaele salesa :) they do bets together! They're lonely sea men! What else could you possibly want?

Also non shippy i like thinking abt peter's and simon's relationship but thats entirely non canon ♡

Diversity wins! The heir of the lonely is a gay man!

Also I think as every rich household(?) the lukases had many paintings and peter as a kid saw the ones w/ sailing ships and imagined sailing far far away from his family. That and seaman aesthetic fucks, which is why he always has the same vibe going on as an adult. He does Not know half of the things he'd need to know to have a ship though but hey he's rich and thats all he needs

Annabelle

First impression

thats a horrible psychological experiment they're making there D:

Impression now

THATS STILL A HORRIBLE EXPERIMENT AND ANNABELLE DESERVED SO MUCH BETTER............. idk! she makes me sad in the same way jon (and to a degree, peter) does! to be a living puppet for the thing that traumatized you as a kid and that later kinda killed you / is the only thing keeping you alive, to be devoted to it scrambling to believe in a higher reason for all of it to happen bc to believe otherwise is............. anyway. i love her, and i feel so so sorry for her

Favorite moment

her "maybe ive never been to the beach" at the end of ehr statement (that i fully believe its bullshit but, yknow, i love that she adds that), most of her convos with martin, her "i told you this might happen" "you did, you did" with mikaele

Idea for a story

i think a lot about her having conversations w/ either mikaele (platonically) or sasha (shippy) and their different points of views and treat with her making her doubt the web a bit

Unpopular opinion

listen, listen, i know it sounds like im woobifying her i Know it but reading the scraps of her story how can i Not feel sorry for her? when the story framed her very similar to jon? the supernatural childhood encounter that gave them arachnophobia and the subsequential joining with an Entity against her will? the fact that both the story and the fans treat her like a spider woman always sat very very bad to me, and the fact that the story itself always framed her like a villain (considering All The Other Characters that get the benefit of the doubt) was extremely disappointing

Favorite relationship

her and mikaele!!!!!!! wish we could have seen more scenes of just the two of them!!!!!! *singing* he is her daaaaaad, hes her dad! boogie boogie boogie! (ok no but like... their offscreen friendship is my favorite thing of season 5 ;_;)

Favorite headcanon

Sigh i dont know...i still think she's scared of spiders which make her current existence harder but thats a sadcanon :/ umm...... i love the idea of mikaele and her cooking together from time to time! Mikaele showing her some plates he used to eat as a kid as he talks stories about his life :) and she listens and sometimes tells a story of her own! its been so long since he had a quasy normal conversation! its weird yet nice!

[xiolaperry]

The Piano - Chapter 6

Summary: Belle French and her daughter arrive in New Zealand to an arranged marriage with Gaston LeGume.  Gaston shows little interest in her or her piano and books. However, Mr. Gold is fascinated…

Rating: E (for smut, dark subject matter and violence in future chapters)

Also available on AO3

---

That evening the skin of her calf tingled, remembering his touch. She tuned out Gaston's hunting story as she replayed the caress in her mind.

Her attention snapped back when she heard her name.

“Belle, how are the lessons going?”

She gave a cautious nod. This was new. Gaston never asked questions. At dinner, he always spoke about his accomplishments and abilities. In excruciating detail. He sometimes reminded her of an overgrown little boy trying to impress his friends. When he spoke of the Maori it took all her effort to not roll her eyes. “How do they even know the land belongs to them?” was a popular refrain. It was better, though, than the stories of fights and brawls that showcased his quick temper.

“So you're getting along all right? Gold can be downright unpleasant sometimes.”

Belle smiled this time and nodded again. Having a conversation instead of being just an audience for his stories was a welcome change. Although Mr. Gold had not been unpleasant. Far from it.

“Aunt Cora told me to tell you and Tilly about the mission Christmas play. They have one every year at the beginning of December.”

“A play?” Tilly's face lit up.

“Yes. Reverend Hopper and my Aunt are in charge of it. Would you like to be an angel?”

“I would! Mama, please, may I?”

Belle signaled her affirmation. It would be good for Tilly to become part of the community. She knew she needed to make more of an effort. Especially with Gaston. He worked hard, spending more time out of the house than in it. And he hadn't tried to pressure her into his bed. Some men would have.

“It's settled then. Take her to my aunt's house tomorrow afternoon. It's next to the mission, you can't miss it. She can meet the other children and be fitted for her costume while you're at Gold's for a lesson.”

After the dishes were washed, Tilly bounced up and down, refusing to go to sleep. The excitement of the play and the gift of the cat had her wide awake. Gaston had gone to bed, and she did not want to disturb him, so Belle suggested shadow puppets.

“I'll be quiet as a mouse for a shadow puppet story!”

Belle set up the oil lamp while Tilly climbed into bed. She continued the story she'd begun on Mr. Gold's porch.

Her nimble hands created characters on the opposite wall to illustrate her tale. The sorcerer, besides enchanting his castle to look like a cottage, would transform himself into a black cat. Everyone chased the cat away, saying it was bad luck, except for one little girl who made friends with the cat by being kind.

A soft snore interrupted her. She kissed Tilly and snuggled in beside her.

---

The next morning Tilly twirled and danced all the way to the village. Belle didn't know where she got her energy.

“Do you think they'll be other girls there? Do you think I'll get wings?”

“Yes, and maybe,” Belle responded.

Cora's home looked very European compared to its surroundings. Belle rapped on the heavy wooden door with an ornate brass handle. To her pleasant surprise, Reverend Hopper answered.

“Belle, Tilly! How nice to see you again! Come in and meet everyone.”

Women and several children filled the large parlor. The buzz of conversation stopped when they entered. Tilly's damp hand squeezed hers when all eyes turned to them.

“I'd like to introduce Mrs. Legume and her daughter Tilly.”

Belle gave a brief nod and signed to the group.

“Mama says, 'Pleased to meet you all' and that you should call her Belle.”

A few murmured hellos greeted them.

“What's your mother doing with her hands? Why doesn't she talk?” asked a little blond girl, her voice ringing loud across the hush of the room.

“Emma!” An attractive dark-haired woman ran over, flustered. “I'm so sorry.”

Belle smiled and patted the woman's arm. There was nothing to be embarrassed about. Children asked questions; it was natural.

“My Mama talks with her hands. And she says most people speak rubbish anyway, and it's not worth it to listen.”

The woman let out a surprised laugh. “I suppose you know all about outspoken little girls, Belle. My name is Mary Margaret Nolan, and this is my daughter Emma.”

The two children sized each other up. Satisfied with what they saw, they started chattering, well on their way to being friends. The activity in the room resumed.

“Come sit by me,” said Mary Margaret. “May I get you some tea?”

“She says, 'Yes,'” replied Tilly, her answer for her mother second nature.

Belle sat down in the chair. The floral cushions were trimmed with rich red brocade. The two girls plopped to the floor in front of her.

Mary Margaret returned with the tea in cups even more ostentatious than the ones she had at home. They had gold trim, elaborately swirled handles, and roses of every hue. She compared them to Mr. Gold's blue and white tea set, elegant in its simplicity.

“Reverend Hopper is going around giving the children their lines, and Regina is measuring the girls in the other room and letting them pick out fabric. She is such a talented seamstress.”

Tilly pulled the wooden cat from her pocket to show Emma. “Look what I have.”

“Can I see?” asked Emma.

Tilly handed it to her. “Mr. Gold made it for me. He has a cat, Ebony. He let me name her.” Pride at this honor was clear in her voice. “Choosing a name is a tremendous responsibility.”

Belle stifled a laugh at the serious tone Tilly used when she spoke. She sounded almost like Mr. Gold.

Mary Margaret heard the interchange between the girls. “May I see your cat, Tilly?”

She examined it. “This is lovely.” Belle had to agree. It was well formed, the little eyes and whiskers charming.

“I didn't know Mr. Gold could carve. He made this for Tilly?”

Belle nodded.

“Are you.... friends with him?”

Belle wasn't sure how to answer. Were they friends?

Tilly saved her from having to respond.

“Mama is teaching him to play the piano.”

Thunderstruck, Mary Margaret leaned toward her. “My husband, David, told me he heard Gaston say that Mr. Gold traded 50 acres for a piano, but I didn't believe it. Is it true?”

Belle opened the little notebook she kept on a chain. She wrote, “Yes, it's true. Gaston traded my books and piano for the land.” Her mouth thinned as she remembered the 'discussion' they'd had about it.

“That is completely out of character. I would have never thought Mr. Gold would be interested in music. Or books. It makes no sense.”

Cora entered the parlor. “Tilly, Belle? Regina is ready for you.”

Regina was fast with the tape measure. She whipped it around, taking measurements and writing them down on a piece of paper. Finished with her notations, she asked Tilly, “Would you like to pick a fabric?”

Tilly considered them, stroking each one and holding the swatches up to the light. Regina didn't rush her. “May I have the blue, please?”

“I think that would be appropriate for an angel. Excellent choice.” She turned to Belle. “We're bending wire forms to make wings. We'll cover the forms with fabric and you'll attach feathers from an old feather bed. I trust you will be capable of doing that.”

Belle gave a sign of assent.

“Mother, please send the next child in.”

Cora led them out. “You can leave now, don't let us keep you.”

How did this woman infuse so much disapproval into simple words? Belle told herself it wasn't her, she would have found anyone lacking when it came to her precious nephew.

She waved goodbye to Mary Margaret.

“Are you leaving so soon?”

“Mr. Gold is expecting us,” answered Tilly.

“If it's all right with you, Tilly could stay here with Emma and I. After everyone's been measured and gotten their lines, we're going to practice.”

“May I? Please, Mama?”

“It’d be no trouble, really.”

Belle told Tilly that it was fine, she would return after Mr. Gold's lesson, and to thank Mrs. Nolan.

“Thank you, Mrs. Nolan. Goodbye! Pet Ebony for me!”

Thus dismissed, she left, pleased Tilly had made a friend. And she might have made one as well.

---

Mr. Gold was waiting in the doorway when she arrived. “No Tilly today?” he asked.

She shook her head.

He did not make eye contact and appeared ill at ease. She felt powerful. Desired. She never had that effect on anyone before.

After she drank her tea, she played, finding her voice through her music.

“Please take the top part of your dress off.”

The abrupt request resulted in a jangled chord. She stopped but made no move to comply. Did she want to do this?

“I want to see if your arms are as beautiful as I've imagined.”

She blushed. He'd imagined her arms?

“It would be worth two keys. You could earn your piano back faster.”

There were two options. She could refuse, and their arrangement would proceed along the same path. Or she could accept, the piano returned to her in half the time. Yes, she would do it. For the piano. Not because she was curious to see if Mr. Gold would touch her bare skin, and if it would be as electrifying as a touch through a layer of stockings.

Belle unbuttoned the top of her dress. Underneath she wore a thin white bodice with short sleeves above her corset. She resumed her playing.

Gold circled the piano to look at her from every angle. The backs of her hands and neck were the only parts of her browned by the sun. The rest of her delicate skin was pale, like the finest porcelain. He could almost see her nipples through her bodice. His cock stirred and took notice.

He stopped his prowling directly behind her. He let his fingertips just skim over her shoulders and down her arms, tracing the same path over and over, appreciating the softness. His tanned hands contrasted against the whiteness of her skin. It was a privilege to glimpse such beauty, to be close to it. He must be careful to do no more than this, lest he frighten her away.

His gliding fingers sent sparks dancing across her. Heat blossomed, the trail of flames he kindled consumed her. She was unused to the strange, dizzying sensations that rose through her body.

She could not concentrate on the melody, and it became mechanical. The ache he was building was the focus of all her attention. Her nipples tightened, and she could not catch her breath.

Overwhelmed, her fingers stopped. The desire advancing through her was too much. Belle stood up, re-buttoning her dress. Mr. Gold said nothing, only handed her a book.

On her walk back to get Tilly, her thoughts whirled. He wanted her, it was obvious. He touched her in such a reverent manner, like she was precious, like he didn't deserve to. She supposed he didn't. He wasn't her husband, after all. Mr. Gold made her feel alive and important. Her reactions to him were disconcerting but intoxicating. Her confused emotions followed her to Cora’s door, and all the way home.

[ellaenchanting]

Hypnovember Day 12: Stage

Somehow this story refused to be short. Even this version with all its’ extraneous details  is abbreviated. Based lightly on the biography of one of my favorite hypnotists. Very lightly edited- may do another read through tomorrow am. Feel free to point out mistakes. 

Curtain up on a handsome young man attending university in the 90s. 

Brandon took a deep breath and looked at himself in the mirror. He could do this. He'd actually learned to enjoy the stage fright these past few months he'd been performing. It felt electric and helpful- a little reminder that he was alive.

He ran through his old confidence trick of imagining that he was Paul McKenna. He'd seen McKenna perform once  back in first year. He was magnetic on stage- mesmerizing the audience well before he had even formally hypnotized anyone. As a shy, awkward, closeted kid,  Brandon had admired how confident the hypnotist was. He held effortless sway over his volunteers and his audience. Brandon had wanted to be like that- feel that in control of something.

So Brandon began to teach himself hypnosis. The library had some books and he had some friends who were kind enough to let him try things out. Somewhere along the way, Brandon had gotten really good. One night after work at his bar job, he had even managed to hypnotize the owner’s girlfriend. She was a fun natural subject and they had worked really well together. The owner had been so impressed that he asked if Brandon ever did stage hypnosis. When Brandon said yes (a small white lie), the owner had offered him a slot for a show every other Tuesday night.

After the first month or so, doing stage hypnosis started to feel really great. Brandon had a routine and he mostly stuck to it, but the volunteers reacted differently enough that the show felt new every time. Brandon felt connected to his volunteers. And even though what they were doing was inherently silly, it was also magical and exciting and fascinating. 

Brandon stepped out on the small stage and began his pre-talk. Like the rest of the show, It was a variation on the same old speech every week (one of the regulars at the bar counter always rolled his eyes when Brandon began) but the routine gave Brandon enough extra brain space to scan the crowd and take notes for himself. A ginger girl looked really engaged and was laughing at all the jokes right on time- she might be a good volunteer. A man in a hat had kind of slowly blinked when Brandon said "sleep" earlier- that could be a good sign. Or he might already be too drunk, Brandon thought, judging the number of  beer glasses Brandon saw under him. Many audience members tonight seemed open and engaged. That would probably give Brandon a good selection of volunteers...

And then he walked in.

Brandon saw the guy from the campus GLBT club last week. The one Brandon had finally forced himself to go to. (Brandon had been frantically trying not to think about sex and sexuality issues for years, but this year he had finally started privately using “the g word” in his own mind when labeling himself.) Actually going to the club had felt really awkward until he began talking with a friendly guy there named Scott. Scott had drawn him out- asked him about himself and his interests. Scott told him a bit about his life too- he talked about being the only gay guy on the rugby team and how he had won the  other players’ respect. 

Scott had an easy laugh and an easy charm. Brandon had certainly felt charmed by him. Maybe a bit too charmed.  Brandon felt the zing of a crush beginning to start. He wasn’t sure he was ready for that yet, though. Brandon had not mentioned the hypnosis thing to Scott- it felt weird and personal and he had already half-convinced himself that he was being creepy in response to Scott’s platonic friendliness. He didn’t want to scare him off.

He had never expected to see him here.

Scott smiled and waved at Brandon. It took everything Brandon had to keep his pre-talk speech going on autopilot. All of a sudden, he felt very exposed and very known. Like Scott had walked in on him masturbating or something.

Focus.

Brandon tripped up a little bit on the magnetic fingers test, but no one in the audience seemed to notice. He had a few people who seemed to be responding really well so far. (He studiously did not to look over at Scott.) Brandon channeled his enthusiasm into his volunteer call "So if you're ready to have the best time of all tonight, go ahead and come up on the stage!"

A few people came up- Brandon sold volunteering some more while trying to make eye contact with a few more possibles. It was always good to give himself options. He verbally encouraged volunteers to find and  sit in the hypnotic chairs behind him. When he finally felt like enough people had volunteered, Brandon turned around

He saw Scott sitting directly behind him, smiling up at him expectanly.

Fuck.

Professionalism, Scott remembered. He kept on with his routine, doing some basic relaxation steps and then starting at the beginning of the line of volunteers with a series of quick inductions.

He got to Scott.

Scott was already looking spacey. He looked up at Brandon in the most open, trusting way.

Brandon felt something in him stir.

NO. He thought. Focus. 

He took Scott’s hand in his and started his induction.

“Push on my hand.” Scott’s hand felt warm and rough against his.

“Harder” He looked so sexy when he was concentrating. 

“Harder” He smelled so good.

“Now- SLEEP!” 

As Brandon pulled his hand quickly away, Scott just..collapsed. Like a puppet with his strings cut. His eyes had rolled back and they had already started moving a bit under the lids. Scott’s mouth was hanging open. He looked debauched and so open and so gone...

NO.

NO NO NO

Focus

Brandon needed to stop himself. Thinking on his feet, he course corrected. “Let’s have a round of applause for all of our volunteers! Now- since we have so many excellent subjects up here, let’s say we make it just a ladies night tonight. We’ll use all and only female volunteers. What do you all think about that?!”

The crowd cheered in enthusiasm. Thank goodness. Brandon woke up all of his male volunteers and continued the show. 

Crisis averted.

Scott came up after the show to shake Brandon’s hand and talk to him. Brandon somehow managed to touch Scott’s hand again and not blush, even with that strings-cutting moment still vivid in his head. Scott asked if Brandon wanted to meet him for a pint but Brandon declined, citing exhaustion.  He already felt bad enough for lusting after Scott during the show- if he let his guard down Scott might notice something was off. He needed to go and sort himself out.

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

Brandon  decided to give  going to the GLBT club a miss that next week. He had been fantasizing about Scott all week- his big trusting eyes, his slack expression, what he could have made Scott do while he was under his power. He felt ashamed to actually go face him with those thoughts running through his head. Brandon took a walk and had a cold shower that night instead.

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

Scott was in the front row when Brandon began his next stage hypnosis show.

He had brought friends. 

The group of girls, who had obviously already had a bit to drink, were cheering and rowdy. They weren't rambunctious enough to get kicked out, but they were certainly enough to rile the rest of the crowd up. 

Brandon gave the first part of his pretalk then launched into his magnetic fingers routine. He decided to experiment and turn it into a bit of a group induction, continuing on into an arm levitation on the fly. After a few minutes of patter, he asked people to open their eyes and see how high their arms had gotten. A few people had arms that were floating a foot or two off their legs.

Scott’s arm was floating up at his head. 

It looked like he was raising his hand.

Scott looked up at his arm with a kind of distant, happy surprise. 

Brandon chose a few audience members to come on the stage who had experienced some success with the exercise. He purposely did not choose Scott. No need to put himself through that again. 

He was just getting ready to put the last chair away when he heard:

“Scott! Scott!”

One of the drunk girls.

“Scott! Scott!”

Now all of the drunk girls.

“Scott! Scott!”

Then the rest of the audience, laughing a bit as Scott cheekily waved at them.

Brandon swallowed and steeled his nerves. “Scott, would you like to come up?”

The audience roared in response. 

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

Brandon managed to keep his shit together through the beginning of the show and a few basic skits- pretending shoes were puppies (Scott made the most adorable faces), playing an imaginary piano (he had...agile fingers), and name amnesia (that confused look, though).

 Brandon went right into the next skit.

“OK when I wake you up in a moment, you’re going to imagine you’re at the top of a tall mountain and it’s freezing up there- you’ll imagine that you’re so totally cold and every time I say the word cold it gets colder, every time I say the word cold you get colder...”

Scott was already shivering, doing brilliantly. So was the blonde in the red shirt.

Brandon woke them up, verbally encouraging their shivers and teeth chattering. The volunteers huddled together for warmth. Scott ran his hands quickly up and down the blonde girl’s arms to warm her up.

“And now, “ Brandon said, “the cold’s gone away and you realize that you’re not on the mountain at all! You’re in a hot place! You’re in the desert and the sun’s coming up and it’s getting hotter and hotter...”

Brandon kept his patter going on autopilot as he watched the group react, looking for what reactions to encourage. The blonde was fanning herself. The bald guy was going a bit red. And Scott-

Scott was taking his shirt off.

The drunk girls yelled encouragement from the audience. 

Scott’s hands worked to throw his shirt over his head. Time seemed to slow. Brandon could see the muscles in Scott’s chest. He was sweating. 

Brandon stopped dead in his tracks for a moment.

Scott moved his hands to his belt buckle.

Brandon raised his voice “And NOW the temperature is normal again. Normal comfortable temperature. And you can go ahead and stop what you’re doing and sit back in your seat, that's right..”

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

Brandon fled the stage as soon as the show was over. He made an excuse of needing to use the toilet. He stayed in there for 10 minutes to calm his nerves.

Scott was waiting for him when he came out. 

Brandon made another excuse of checking on the other volunteers and left. 

30 minutes later, Scott was still at the bar. Waiting.

Resigned and secretly pleased, Brandon walked over. 

“Hey Svengali!” Scott said with a smile. “Did you like having me under your spell?” He winked playfully. 

Brandon laughed awkwardly. Suddenly he was all out of words. 

Scott came closer. “Seriously, though, that was a lot of fun. I felt really relaxed and playful. Being hypnotized feels really zen, y’know?”

Brandon found his voice, “Yeah, you’re a really talented subject. You’re really creative and imaginative and..willing.” Brandon looked down, his own words making him shy. 

Scott’s mouth quirked at that last word. “Brandon, I don’t want to freak you out  but- I’ve spent the last hour and a half focused on you. Really focused. And I was paying attention to what you said but,” he looked Brandon in the eye, “I could kind of tell you were focused on me too. Intensely.”

Brandon turned red. “I..I’m sorry, you must think I’m so creepy, I..”

Scott stopped him. “No Brandon, you don't get it. I wanted to be focused on you. I’ve wanted it ever since the club really- but especially since I saw your last show. Watching it kind of...helped me understand some things about myself. What I wanted.  And I wanted you to notice me too. Why do you think I wore this shirt tonight?” He smiles teasingly. “I remembered your show last week. I knew I’d have the excuse to take it off for you. Did you like what you saw?”

Brandon nodded his head.

Scott nodded back, understanding. “You liked watching me take my shirt off. And I think you liked watching me be hypnotized, too. Following your commands. Acting under your spell.”

Brandon blushed at his quiet, involuntary moan.

 Scott looked at Brandon’s with gentle compassion. He held Brandon’s hand in his for a moment and put a piece of paper in it. “I know you’re newly out and i don’t want to pressure you. I like you a lot, though, and, well- I think we have a lot in common. We’re...compatible, in a way. So if you ever want to hang out some time or go out or y’know, stay in together...” he squeezed Brandon’s hand and let go “...give me a call”.

Scott looked Brandon in the eyes one more time, then walked away.

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

Brandon angsted over the number for exactly one day.

On Wednesday night, he picked up the phone. 

“Hey Scott? Hey, It’s Brandon. Listen, I’m working on some new ideas for my show. Would you like to come over and help me test them? Maybe on Friday?  I’ll make you dinner.”

It was a start.  

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 171: Knock Them Dead With Your Sound

Previously on BnHA: Deku and Mirio visited Eri in the hospital. Eri apologized for everything they went through in order to save her, particularly Mirio who lost his powers. Mirio told her it wasn’t her fault and that everyone was just glad she was safe, and they all wanted to see her smiling face. Eri tried to smile but couldn’t quite manage it. Deku racked his brain for ways to cheer her up, and struck on the idea of inviting her to the cultural festival. Aizawa said he’d need to ask the principal but that it could probably be arranged. After Mirio explained the concept, Eri agreed, saying that she wanted to get to know everyone better. We then cut to the police, who were watching a live broadcast of a convenience store robbery and trying to trace its source. The robber, a gentleman thief named -- wait for it -- Gentle, took out six heroes in the blink of an eye and then left without taking any money. He said he wanted his name to be etched into history, and as he met up with his accomplice afterwards, he pondered what his next great exploit should be.

Today on BnHA: We are properly introduced to Gentle and his social media-savvy adoring fan La Brava. Gentle specializes in “chivalrous crimes” that target corruption. However his recent videos haven’t been as popular, in part because Stain and the League of Villains have been stealing his thunder. Back at U.A., word begins to spread about class A’s band performance and dance program. Bakugou overhears some grumps complaining about how cocky 1-A is and how they’re the ones who “start all the conflict.” That evening the kids meet to hash out who will be in charge of what. Jirou needs a drummer, and it turns out Bakugou plays drums, but he’s pissed at the idea of being obligated to provide stress relief for the other departments. As he puts it, “we aren’t getting smacked down by the villains because we enjoy it.” Instead he reframes the whole thing as a battle, and vows to knock U.A. dead with his sound. I mean, whatever works I guess. Meanwhile Gentle reveals to La Brava that he’s planning a new stunt which will surpass anything Stain or the League has done: he plans to invade U.A.

(As always, all comments not marked with an ETA are my unspoiled reactions from my first readthrough of this chapter. I’ve read up through chapter 198 now, so any ETAs will reflect that.)

lol

LIVING LAWLESS. all about that THUG LIFE

okay so the narrator, whom I assume is Gentle, is talking about people who have left their marks on history

you’re telling me there’s a hero out there simply known as “Brave”? I know we already had a Mr. Brave, and I can tell you right now he has left his mark on absolutely nothing. so that means there’s another guy out there named Brave, so Mr. Brave, your hero name is even lamer than I thought. WHY DIDN’T YOU JUST GO WITH SPLIT END

ooooohh!

oh my god. I want to know everything about all of these guys right the fuck now. particularly Destro. “special abilities liberation army” sounds a lot like a Magneto type “mutant rights” type of thing. there’s an era that we still don’t know much about right after quirks first started appearing on the scene, and it fascinates me and I want to know more about what it was like. because I have some fic ideas about that time period tbh. Destro, I’m definitely making a note of you

so now the narration is talking about how before the present systems were established, the lines between heroes and villains were blurred and it was an age of chaos

honestly this all sounds incredibly badass, like a superpowered wild west

and Gentle seems to agree, saying it was an age of pure freedom

this guy really feels what he’s doing, huh

the gentle, soothing, cuddly criminal. when he’s not out doing Crime, he makes ASMR roleplays in his spare time. “sleep-inducing bank robbery 🌙 (whispered/soft-spoken)”

he’s walking over to La Brava now and she says that their account got deactivated “again”, so she just finished uploading all of their videos to a new account

fucking 2010s manga though, you guys!!

and apparently that narration was from his debut video, which she was rewatching and swooning over just now

so he’s going to finish his cup of tea and then they will get on to today’s filming

oh my fucking god

you don’t understand guys. he’s really a man of the people. he’s on your side! handing out punishments to “those who do not act gentlemanly.” protecting them all from the horrors of expired pudding

oh my god you guys La Brava is the cutest ever I swear to god

how is she so cute though??

she’s frustrated because the jstore robbery video didn’t get that many views

but Gent says they’re not in it for external validation

she’s really mad though because she says it’s been 6 years since he’s been active as “the villain of the media world”

and apparently when Stain came along and went viral he stole all their views

yes but you have to admit they are super compelling though. I miss them, actually. where are they

(ETA: for real, they’ve been way too quiet recently and it’s starting to make me pretty nervous)

did you read that car chase chapter, though. “spectacle” indeed

he says his style is the opposite of that, but nonetheless it can’t be denied that they have momentum

he says all of the 10,000+ comments on their videos concern that violent behavior

are you sure some of the comments aren’t also shipping Toga and Twice. or theorizing what’s up with Tomura’s hands. or talking about how badass Compress’s new metal arm is. honestly they have a lot going for them, man

lmao

WAY TOO MANY JUMP CUTS

I also agree with the guy saying La Brava deserves more of the spotlight. she’s so great

Gent is letting loose with a hearty laugh and says he won’t be discouraged though, and that his next project will surpass even theirs

that is a tall order, sir. Tomura’s most recent act was a great service to humanity. all I’m saying is, you better not hype me up like the last new villain only to let me down, because don’t even get me started on that shitshow

so La Brava is all excited and asking what the next project is, and Gent is responding with a bunch of cryptic bullshit

so I guess we’re going to find out more about the history of heroes and when they became an established thing, huh? I’m 1000% on board with this and I may actually be even more excited for this than for the upcoming class 1-A rave, negl. good job getting this manga back on track, Horikoshi!

(ETA: I’m so thick, he’s clearly just talking about U.A. here lol)

so now we’re cutting back to U.A. and Vlad (who I almost called “Brad” again, it’s been so long) is talking to Aizawa about the cultural fest, and he’s all “so I heard class A is doing a rave huh?”

interestingly, this seems to be one of the rare occasions where Aizawa doesn’t seem to be 100% on board with their hijinks

stfu Aizawa. what’s more admirable than a fucking rave

now we’re cutting to the always adorable children of class A who are excited to plan their festival program

and some shadowy person is coming up to Bakugou and is all “did you hear?”

oh no wait they’re not talking to him, they’re talking to each other about class A right in front of him

um, whoa

y’all trying to start some shit, huh? gonna talk shit about his class when they’re trying to do something fucking nice?? like it’s their fault they keep getting attacked by fucking villains? okay then. hey on an unrelated note, go fuck yourselves

so are these guys just assholes or is this really what the rest of the school in general really thinks? because I can see why they might not exactly have a favorable impression of them, truth be told. Bakugou’s stunts at the sports festival didn’t exactly paint them in the best light. and most likely everyone has made the connection between the kidnapping and Kamino and the student dorms. and probably it’s not much of a secret who the two kids who were caught fighting on Ground Beta after hours were, either. so yeah

but it’s still a dick move to come and do this right in front of him when he’s not bothering you or anything, so fuck you still, and I will come over there and fight you if I have to, don’t think I won’t

fuck. well anyway, while I’m here grumbling and trying to take deep, calming breaths, we’re cutting back to Heights Alliance, and Iida is taking charge of a planning session

first they need to decide on the music, so Jirou is suggesting genres

she says they really should be doing EDM if the intent is to play dance music, but on the other hand everyone seems set on playing instruments. lol it would be funny though if everyone took turns DJing

so she’s asking if anyone in class plays bass or drums, and is met with a dead silence

she says she plays guitar mainly, so her drumming is only so-so. and she says that if she has to teach a beginner how to play drums then one month is not going to be enough time

OH MY GOD

I don’t fully understand what’s happening but ARE YOU IN FACT IMPLYING THAT MY SON KATSUKI KNOWS HOW TO PLAY DRUMS OH MY GOD. KATSUKI ARE YOU GOING TO BE IN A ROCK BAND!?

apparently the answer to that question is YES because class A knows all too well exactly how to manipulate him

MASTER OF PUPPETS I’M PULLING YOUR STRIIIIIINGS

lmao and JUST LIKE THAT

TOO EASY

holy shit. and it seems like he actually does know what he’s doing as well. go figure, he is good at virtually everything after all

well, this is everything I never knew I wanted. good show. excuse me for a moment, I’m gonna go play Song 2 by Blur and wonder what the season 4 OST is gonna be like

now he’s trying to walk away again lol

this is really just an open invitation for someone to come up with a convincing enough reason for him to do it without losing face

although part of me also wonders if maybe he would just rather not be in the spotlight for once. especially after overhearing those JERKFACES from the department of GENERAL JERKS earlier

oh my god Jirou

come on Kacchan don’t you want to be a good person?!

oh shit now he’s going on a tangent

he says nothing’s going to come of it

ahhhhhhhh. I see. so it’s that he’s pissed off at the other departments and doesn’t feel like they deserve class A’s niceness

ahhhh but Jirou looks crushed ;_;

Hagakure is kind of awkwardly being all, “hey, c’mon...”

but Bakugou says that what they’re doing is just “indulging the enemy”

and when exactly did it become Us vs Them though, I wonder. like, if the other classes are the enemy, that implies that your class is Not The Enemy though, yes? aww

oh shit. ohhhhh shit

oh my. and I didn’t even order any Bakugou feels. “yes, we know,” Horikoshi says, holding out the delivery bag. “these are on the house. please accept our gratitude on account of being such a loyal customer”

oh shit you guys. so what do I even do with these. should I meta about them or should I just eat them while they’re still hot

lol, but yeah. “I didn’t ask to be kidnapped. we didn’t ask to be attacked.” people acting like it’s their fault and like they’re enjoying the attention. and maybe once upon a time he did want that, but it’s one thing to fantasize about being famous for being the number one bestest coolest hero, and quite another to wind up actually in the spotlight because you’re the kid who keeps getting attacked by sludge monsters and Villain Leagues. and then people act like you brought it on yourself because you were too cocky. especially when we know that on some level he does blame himself, so it stings all the more

so why should they go out of their way to try to support people like that? it’s almost like they’re apologizing to those assholes, and fuck that

mmm. [munching] so anyway let’s see where this leads

hahaha. what

oh my god this fucking kid

lol. okay so he is on board, then, but just to make it ABSOLUTELY CLEAR, he is not out to “support” anyone, but rather he is declaring war. via drums. that’s right

well hey, however you need to frame it! at the end of the day he has agreed to help, so!

the other kids seem to be on the same page as me lol

yep. WE’LL TAKE IT

JIROUUUUU

;_____; I LOVE YOU SO MUCH JIROU

and now we’re cutting back to Gent and OH MY GOD

CAN YOU PLEASE. NOT

JESUS CHRIST. CAN THEY NOT JUST HAVE JUST ONE FUCKING THING. LET BAKUGOU DECLARE A DRUM WAR AND LET JIROU SHARE HER MUSIC WITH EVERYONE AND LET ERI HAVE A GOOD “DATE” WITH HER DOTING BIG BROTHER MIRIO AND LET THEM JUST RELAX WITHOUT ANY VILLAIN ANTICS

goddammit. I mean like, Gentle’s idea of villainy would probably be to whip out a violin and challenge them to a classical battle of the bands. but even polite villain antics are really not going to be good for U.A.’s PR at the moment. and this guy films everything he does. and just. we don’t need this sob

BONUS:

everyone this is Agoyamato Tsutsutaka and Togeike Chikuchi. that’s literally all this is. just their names. did we really need to know this lol oh well

[i-am-thedragon]

Repairs

Here’s a DHMIS fanfic I wrote back in March 2016, but never uploaded for whatever reason. I recently rediscovered it and I’m posting it now, because I’m on a bit of a DHMIS kick and I honestly miss being active in the fandom. I considered editing some bits of this fanfic, but I decided to leave it as is in all its “my pretentious 2016 writing style” glory. Also note (to those unfamiliar with my fanfics) that I referred to the characters as Red(Redmond), Donnie, and Crowe at the time, before their names were confirmed(?) as being ‘Red Guy’, ‘Yellow Guy’, and ‘Duck’.

Story description: After the events of DHMIS 4, our three beloved protagonists are left with an aggressive (but slowly dying) computer they do not know what to do with. But of course, one puppet’s trash is another’s high-value collector’s treasure. 6331 words, mild mentions of gore.

Without further delay, here is Repairs.

Donnie stood silently in the hall, pouting at a seemingly inconspicuous closed door. The door led into the games room, in which the board games, the laptop, and other knick-knacks were kept. The child let out a whine as he slouched forward unhappily, his orange nose almost touching the door.

His attention turned to the sound of approaching footsteps from the end of the hall. It was his friend Crowe, peering at him with curiosity.

“What’s the matter?” The green-feathered duck asked. “Why in the world are you staring at that door?”

He had a feeling, however, that he already knew the answer.

“I wanna play Money Win.” Donnie grumbled, scuffing his foot dejectedly on the ground. “But the scary computer’s in there.”

“Oh, he’s not that scary.” Crowe responded with a chuckle. “He’s just a box of gadgetry, all made up of buttons and wires!”

“Well if you’re not scared of him, why don’t you get the Money Win game for me!” Donnie retorted somewhat defensively. “…Please?”

The smile was wiped from Crowe’s beak as he thought about actually going in there. He didn’t want to admit it, but Colin the Computer did unnerve him. The ‘games room incident’ had only occurred a couple of days earlier, and that room had been an unpleasant place to be ever since. Whenever someone went in there Colin would act up, making strange noises and asking increasingly nonsensical questions like “Did you drink a orange today?” or “How many egg are you?”, and growing unpredictable and aggressive. Still, it wasn’t like he could get hurt in there, right? Colin was just a bunch of buttons, wires, and circuits after all.

“Alright, fine!” Crowe huffed. “But I get first turn when we start playing!”

 Crowe tried to hide his hesitation as he turned the door knob and pushed the door open. The games room stood before him, in its usual presentable state. On the table in the center, however, stood that computer, gazing back at him with gritted teeth and that square-eyed stare. Traces of a mysterious dirty-yellow liquid trickled from his eyes and mouth. Colin began emitting a low-quality whining noise upon being noticed. Crowe gulped as he stepped inside. Lucky for him at least, the board game he was after was on top of the shelf right near the doorway, so he wouldn’t have to pass Colin to get to it. Not so fortunately, it was far too high for him to reach.

“I’m sorry, Donnie, you’ll have to ask Red to get it.” Crowe spoke, shaking his head.

Donnie simply gave a sad nod and walked away, leaving Crowe alone. The bird’s attention wandered to the desk at the other end of the room, on which sat a quill and ink. One of his beloved possessions! Oh how he’d missed it those past few days. Crowe wanted it back… But he had to make it past Colin first. Surely that wouldn’t be a problem, or so he hoped. With slow, steady steps, he paced past the table. When he glanced at the computer watching over him ominously, the two locked in a gaze. It seemed Colin’s stare was growing more malevolent and his voice increasing in pitch and volume with each passing moment, until he finally snapped.

“WHY ARE YOU LOOKING AT MEEEEEEEEEE-“

Crowe nearly jumped right out of his feathers before turning and bolting out of the games room, slamming the door shut behind him.

 At that moment, Red and Donnie entered the hallway, stopping when they noticed how panicked their friend looked.

“It’s the computer, isn’t it?” Red sighed.

“Well, I uh, I got a little startled, that’s all!” Crowe squeaked shakily with a sheepish grin.

Donnie folded his arms with an ‘I told you so’ smirk as Red pondered what to do.

“I think he’s dying anyway.” Red decided with a shrug. “Just leave him ‘til he stops moving and making noises.”

“So… No Money Win?” Donnie asked.

“Not yet.”

 -.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 A few days passed and Red simply couldn’t handle it. He hardly cared about that creepy computer anymore, he needed his laptop. He longed for that pristine screen, those data-filled files, that sweet, sweet, internet connection. Colin could scream and flail all he wanted, Red was getting that laptop back.

Upon opening the door, Red was greeted by a warbled screeching as Colin flailed his cord-like arms around. That nasty yellowish substance was still leaking from the computer’s eyes and mouth, staining the tablecloth. Red knew that Colin hated him the most, and was particularly aggressive in his presence.

The long-haired figure ignored the screeching and flailing, turning to a nearby shelf and gently removing a closed laptop from the top of it. What a superior piece of technology it was. While he was there, Red also collected Crowe’s quill and ink from the desk and the Money Win game from atop the shelf. He would come for the rest later. Colin’s screeching tried to form itself into words, but all that came out was an enraged digital mess.

After pushing the games room door shut with his foot, Red trudged into the living room and placed the board game on the book shelf.

“I wonder if Donnie will notice it’s there when he comes back into the living room.” Crowe chuckled, watching Red from his rocking chair. “He’s in his bedroom playing with his toys at the moment.”

“Oh, I got this for you.” Red stated, turning around and holding out the quill and ink.

The duck sprung from his chair and darted over gleefully, taking his beloved possession with a smile.

“Ah, thank you so much!” He exclaimed. “I heard that nasty computer screaming bloody murder while you were in there. Golly, that must have been frightening!”

“Not really, it’s not like he can do much other than that anymore.” Red replied with a shrug. “Give him a few more days and he’ll be pretty much dead. Anyway, I got our laptop back, too. I really need to check my emails.”

 -.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 A few further days passed. Although he rarely admitted it, the deep web was one of Red’s favourite places to explore. That’s where a lot of the stranger sites were. He wasn’t into the completely depraved and grotesque content, of course, but by now he was mostly desensitised to it anyway. Red mostly came across websites made by people with unique obsessions; the kind of people with entire websites dedicated to rocking chairs and video segments of themselves describing and analysing every chair in their collection.

It was one of those sort of sites Red had come across that evening, one made by someone with a deep fascination with old computers. He shook his head as he scrolled down, wondering how anyone could deal with so much painfully outdated technology. Whoever this person was, they possessed not only a large collection of those vintage machines, but just about every manual or advertisement piece relating to them. Clicking on a page for any of this person’s computers would lead to long page with in-depth descriptions of its history, functions, maintenance, and so on. Perhaps it wasn’t so much how frighteningly comprehensive the site was that made Red just a little uncomfortable, but rather the sight of all those old, outdated computers. They all reminded him so much of Colin. Still, credit due where credit was due, he was impressed with the effort the owner of this site had put into it.

Red was thinking of logging off for the evening when he came across something that made his heart jump. On a web page detailing the few vintage computers not in the site owner’s possession, there was an advertisement with an all too familiar face on it.

“It’s that darn thing in the games room…” Red muttered quietly to himself, taking a sip from his mug of coffee.

The advertisement, scanned from some old magazine or newspaper, featured that blocky machine with those square eyes and gritted teeth.

The Smart Boy Industries ALL NEW Computery Guy!

The pinnacle of modern technology! Comes with Doors ∞ pre-installed!

Can count at incredible speeds, tell the time with pinpoint accuracy, and remember personal info!

All thanks to Smart Boy Industries’ patented DIGITAL MIND!

Now Red was both disturbed and curious. He wanted to know more about the digital beast terrorising the games room. Luckily, this deep-web site didn’t fail to deliver.

I’ve been wanting to get my paws on one of these beauties for ages, but I don’t think it’ll happen. I’ve searched far and wide all over the web, but no-one’s selling one! I wouldn’t blame them, really. Can you believe only 50 of them were ever made? They were discontinued pretty quickly after their release on June 19, 1985 and became a real rarity. Chances are most, if not all of them, have either been thrown out or simply stopped working by now. The Computery Guy line was incredibly controversial due to the inclusion of the ‘digital mind’- A piece of REAL brain or brain-like tissue that was supposed to make the computer smarter and more functional. I can see how that raised a lot of ethical issues. In fact, three months after the release of the Computery Guy they were banned in 19 countries. Smart Boy Industries took a huge hit from the controversy, they almost got shut down entirely! I am fairly sure they’re still around, but much smaller and they don’t make computers anymore. I heard they do make printers and other electronics now, though. Anyway, here are some of the Computery Guy’s unique functions…

Red didn’t read beyond that point. That computer was a rarity? Possibly the last unit of the model! That wasn’t what surprised him the most, though. Colin essentially had a real brain. That might have explained some of his odd behaviour.

 “Red, may I use the laptop briefly when you’re done with it?” Spoke Crowe from nearby, startling Red. “There’s an old song with a title that escapes me at the moment. I was hoping I might find the answer online.”

“Sure.” Replied Red. “But first, you should take a look at this.”

He swiveled the laptop around and showed it to his friend. Crowe looked at the screen with disgust at first, then the same morbid curiosity Red had felt before.

“I’m surprised anyone would want one of those.” The bird scoffed. “Though I suppose ours isn’t exactly… Functioning properly.”

“I wonder what the computer was like in his better days.” Red thought aloud with a shrug.

“Where did you find this anyway?” Crowe asked. “Have you been exploring the deep web again? I heard it’s a dangerous place.”

“Relax, Crowe, it’s just a site about old computers.”

“How much do you think this person would pay us for our Computery Guy?”

Red did a double-take upon hearing that question.

“You think we should sell him to whoever owns this site?”

“Yes. Well, we need to get him off our hands somehow. And surely you know by now that disposing of computers and other electronics in landfill is terrible for the environment! Besides, if this mysterious person is that much of an avid enthusiast for vintage computers, we should get quite a bit in return.”

Red dwelled on the idea for a silent moment or two. Receiving Colin could make this person’s day, or possibly ruin it, too. Either way, they’d probably pay big money for him. Unfortunately, it seemed the Computery Guy in the games room was in his final days anyway. While a non-functional model might still be worth something, he probably wouldn’t be worth a whole lot.

“Alright Crowe.” Red decided. “I’ll see if I can contact this person tomorrow. Whoever they are they need to know what they’re getting into, first.”

 -.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 Hello. My name is Redmond. I was browsing your vintage computer website the other day and I saw you had interest in the Smart Boy Industries’ ‘Computery Guy’. It looks like you haven’t updated your site for quite a long time, but I was wondering if you were still interested in owning one. My friends and I have one in our games room we’ve been meaning to get rid of, and we were thinking you might be interested in buying it. Unfortunately, the computer is pretty broken at this point. Please respond if you’re interested.

-Redmond

Red sent the email to the contact address given on that deep-web site. He hoped he would get a reply within the following week or two, but if not, then so be it. It was worth a shot regardless. He ended up receiving a reply early the next day.

Hello Redmond! I’m Pillars Cloudfoot. I’m very excited about your offer! I’ve yet to make contact with someone owning a Computery Guy, let alone someone offering to sell theirs! Wow!

Which one is he? Someone on one of my forums told me they all have a unique name- Caleb, Curtis, Clyde, Carl, Chris, Connor, Colin, Cameron, Craig, Colby, Clarence, Calvin, Corby, and Claude, to name a few.

Don’t worry about him being broken, I’d imagine they all kicked the bucket a couple decades ago. Even if I can’t find a way to repair him I’ll be glad just to have him in my collection. All I ask is that you show me a photo first, just so I know you’re being legitimate about this. Don’t take it personally, there are just too many scammers out there, y’know?

-Mx. Cloudfoot

 Red was pleased with the response he received. This ‘Pillars’ seemed like a pretty decent person, and they were certainly happy about the offer. When Red stepped into the games room with his laptop in his hands, Colin began emitting a low, droning whine comparable to a toy with a low battery. Other than that, though, he didn’t do anything. He simply sat in place, his jaw hanging open and his eyes filled with malice despite his drooping eyelids.

“Be quiet, you won’t have to deal with us too much longer.” Red said as he turned the laptop to face the computer.

He clicked a button and took a photo of Colin using the laptop’s in-built webcam. The image quality wasn’t too great but it was good enough, and it saved Red having to get the camera and go searching for the USB cord to connect it to the laptop.

Looking at the photo he’d just taken, and then back at Colin, he realised just how much of a nasty condition the computer was in. Remnants of a strange yellowish fluid had dried in his mouth and eyes, and in pools beneath him, and his face seemed stuck in a weary but vicious scream. The grainy quality of the photo didn’t help. Red had a feeling Pillars wouldn’t appreciate that.

 Thanks for responding to my offer. I’ve attached a photo of the Computery Guy- His name is Colin- and as you can probably tell he’s not in such good shape. I should point out that he wasn’t originally ours, he appeared in our house less than a fortnight ago out of nowhere and was actually mostly functional at the time. We’ve no idea where he came from or who owned him before us. All we can tell is that Colin was really aggressive and kind of rude, too. He managed to scare all three of us. That’s why we’re selling him. I hope that doesn’t put you off buying him, Pillars. It’s not like he can really do anything now anyway. I’ll try to get that dried fluid cleaned up, too. I don’t know what it is, though.

-Redmond

A response came only several hours later.

Yikes! I see what you mean! Good grief, poor Colin!

Actually, you have me very curious and a bit concerned. If what you say is true, Colin’s been functioning for almost three decades! Incredible! But you said he was aggressive? How so? From what I know the Computery Guys were never meant to be aggressive or disobedient in any circumstances. That’s really strange. Now that he’s dead you can’t run diagnostics, but I think you should take a look at his digital mind anyway. Just see if anything looks abnormal.

In case you don’t know how, here’s how to get the digital mind out:

Press the green, red, and blue button on the back of the monitor simultaneously, hold for six seconds, and then turn the knob beside it until you hear a click. That should eject the digital mind cartridge. You can open the cartridge to inspect the digital mind but I highly recommend not leaving it open for too long. It’s bad to expose the digital mind for too long. Then slide the cartridge back in when you’re done.

I’ve also attached a couple of scans uploaded to one of my forums. You’ll probably need to take some bits apart to properly clean Colin so these couple of pages from the manual should detail how to do that. Apparently Smart Boy Industries knew the Computery Guys were prone to small leakages around the eyes and mouth, but I don’t know how yours got THAT bad.

-Mx. Cloudfoot

Cleaning all that bizarre dried gunk off Colin would give Red something to do over the weekend. Maybe Donnie and Crowe would help, though he wouldn’t blame them if they didn’t want to. Heck, even he was hesitant about touching Colin again.

 -.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 Donnie peeked his head through the doorway timidly, gripping at the door frame with his fingers. He watched as his two best friends sat themselves down around the table with a toolbox, the laptop, and some rags and cleaning supplies. The child nervously eyed the subject of interest, the now lifeless computer in the center of the table. Colin was still in the same state as when Red last saw him, only quieter. His jaw still hung agape, his eyelids droopy and his cord-like arms limp. That residue around his eyes and mouth only made his appearance more morbid.

Red began by placing one hand on top of Colin and firmly grasping the computer’s jaw with the other. With a pull and a slight jiggle, the jaw detached and Red handed it over to Crowe. Without a word, Crowe began cleaning Colin’s jaw, scrubbing away the mysterious yellow residue from between the teeth. Red pulled a screwdriver from his toolbox and began unscrewing the frame around Colin’s monitor. That part needed to be removed so Red could properly clean around Colin’s eyes.

Donnie watched on with cautious curiosity. Even if he wasn’t as afraid of the computer as he had been before, he still didn’t want to be in the same room as him. Besides, cleaning dirty computer parts didn’t sound like much fun anyway. It was rather interesting to watch, though.

 Red and Crowe finished cleaning Colin more quickly than they had anticipated. Red had expected those strange leaks to have from a bit deeper within Colin, yet neither he nor Crowe had any luck finding the source of it. It was if the substance had just appeared at the computer’s eyes and mouth. As red screwed the frame of Colin’s monitor back on, Crowe spoke.

“Weren’t you advised to check the digital mind?” He reminded.

“I was about to get to that, actually.” Red answered.

Red placed the screwdriver back into the toolbox and turned Colin around. As told by both Pillars and the instruction manual scans, there were three buttons- a red one, a green one, and a blue one- and a knob beside it, among other things. As instructed, Red held down the three buttons simultaneously and waited.

One… Two… Three… Four… Five… Six!

He then gently turned the knob beside the buttons until a loud click broke the silence. A small compartment had ejected itself slightly from the back of Colin. Red carefully pulled out a box-shaped cartridge about the size of the palm of his hand. It felt… Sticky. When Red turned the cartridge over to investigate, he found traces of dark crimson residue built up on the underside. He sighed as he thought about how he’d have to clean that too, but in the meantime he needed to check what was inside the cartridge. Without wasting any more time, Red opened up the cartridge, and he and Crowe peered inside.

 What they saw was not what they expected. Inside the cartridge was a small piece of brain-like matter covered in crimson slime. It had broken, frayed wires protruding from it and a cluster of off-colour boil-like growths on the front of it.

“Oh, that’s… Something.” Crowe remarked uneasily. “Well, you know what Pillars said, you ought to put that back. All this exposure won’t do it any good.”

“Hang on, can you take a photo of it with the laptop first?” Red asked. “I’m not sure if this is right, I should really show it to Pillars and ask for their opinion.”

He had reason to feel that something wasn’t right, too. The digital mind he held looked nothing like the one depicted in the instruction manual scans. Even if the one in the manual was only a stylised interpretation, it looked a lot less off than Colin’s.

Red held the open digital mind cartridge in front of the laptop’s webcam as Crowe took a photo. Then the cartridge was closed and Red began to clean that build-up off the bottom of it.

 -.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 Thanks for the manual scans, they helped a lot. Pillars, I’ve cleaned Colin out and I took a look at his digital mind. I attached a photo of what I saw. I get the feeling something’s a bit off about it, but that could be just to do with age. Do you think that might be why Colin acted aggressively? When we found him he was singing, but he interrupted a lot and wasn’t a good listener. He kept asking a load of really irrelevant questions and completely flipped out when I hit his keyboard. There was also some stuff involving warped reality, existential crises, and my head exploding, but I won’t go into detail. Anyway, I thought I’d make sure you knew fully of Colin’s condition before we negotiated a selling price.

-Red

 …Oh boy. Redmond, that digital mind is an absolute wreck. Now, I’d expected the Computery Guys’ digital minds to deteriorate over time, but this looks like more than time-related deterioration. Looking at this photo you sent me, I wonder if Colin’s previous owner took Colin’s digital mind out of its cartridge, poked it with their unwashed fingers, threw it at a wall, and spat on it. Heck, that wouldn’t explain half of what I’m seeing.

Redmond, don’t even put that back into Colin. If you already have, consider taking it out and throwing it out. Heck, if I were you I might even burn it. Yikes, it’s no wonder he was acting up.

Well seeing as though the digital mind is a no-go, there won’t be any way for me to fully repair Colin. No big deal, though, as long as I have the rest of him in my collection I’ll be happy enough. What a shame though, with proper maintenance Colin could still be functioning today. There’s no way of getting a replacement digital mind now. Smart Boy industries apparently offered replacements at the time, though.

Also, I ought to mention that I’ll be gone for a week. My birthday’s coming up and I’m going on a little holiday with some family, so I won’t be able to keep in contact after today. Until then, all the best to you and your friends!

-Mx. Cloudfoot

 -.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 Even though it was of no loss to him, Red couldn't help but feel somewhat disappointed by the turn of events. It did seem like quite a shame that he had to give his online acquaintance a dead computer that could never be fully repaired, even if they were happy to accept it. Still, anything to get Colin off his hands and out of the house was good enough. Not that Colin had been a threat in the slightest since he stopped functioning, mind you. All Red and his friends could do until Pillars returned to the web was wait.

Red tapped his foot lightly to an imaginary rhythm as he channel-surfed from his green armchair. Crowe was outside with Donnie lighting a bonfire in the backyard, so they could 'properly dispose of' Colin's old digital mind. Red wondered if perhaps he should’ve be out there with them, making sure they didn't burn down the yard and half the countryside with it, but Crowe insisted he had everything under control. As Red contemplated the current situation, he gave a heavy sigh. Not a saddened or frustrated sigh, but an 'oh well, what'll one do about it' sigh.

“Are you okay, Red?” A voice suddenly spoke, startling Red.

Donnie must have heard the sigh, as he now stood at the other side of the living room with his head tilted in curiosity. Red hadn't even heard him re-enter the house.

“Yeah.” Red replied with a shrug. “It's just a bit of a shame we don't have a digital mind for Colin, that's all.”

Donnie couldn't quite comprehend why Red would want to but a brain back into that nasty broken computer. Colin was far better off without one! Without a digital mind he couldn't frighten anyone or ask too many strange questions. However, the boy had trust in his friends above all else, so Red surely had a good reason for what he wanted.

“Why don't you just get another one?” Donnie asked innocently.

“They stopped making ‘Computery Guys’ a long, long time ago.” Red explained, scratching his head. “Back then Smart Boy Industries probably had replacements, but there's no reason for them to still have any if no-one's using Computery Guys anymore.”

Donnie nodded in acceptance of the explanation, but his brow was scrunched up in doubt as he pondered it. People were still using the Computery Guy! He and his friends were, at least. What reason did Smart Boy Industries have to not keep the replacement digital minds around, just in case?

“Anyway, how's the bonfire going?” Red asked, interrupting Donnie's train of thought.

“Good!” The boy replied. “But I think Crowe needs your help. He's having trouble getting the computer brain to melt like it should.”

Red switched off the television and stood up from his armchair, figuring whatever was going on out there was probably much more entertaining than the re-run rubbish being passed off as television. Watching the tall, hairy figure leave the living room, Donnie thought of a plan. A rather simple one, but a plan that wouldn't hurt to try- Though there was the risk of losing his pocket money for nothing.

 Donnie tore a piece of paper out of one of his empty scrapbooks and grabbed a green crayon. He thought for a moment about what to write, before putting the crayon to the paper and beginning his message.

Dear smart boy industrees

My name is Donnie and me and my friends have a computer guy. his name is Colin. his brain was broken and he needs a new one. May we please have a new computer brain for Colin?

From Donnie Gribbleston

The boy held up his letter and looked over it with a smile and a nod. He was sure this would do just fine, he just needed to figure out where to send it. 'Smart Boy Industries', he'd heard Red and Crowe mention a few times. Where had Donnie heard that name before, or rather, seen it? The printer, of course! The games room printer had 'Smart Boy Industries' written on the label on the back of it. He'd discovered that when he'd accidentally locked himself in the games room several months back and needed something to pass the time. He'd spent hours investigating the room's most easily overlooked details, before realising the games room door didn't even have a lock.

 However, despite his naivety and childlike foolishness, Donnie could be quite clever when he needed to be. After fixing a spelling error in his letter, he took the unoccupied laptop from the living room and opened it up. Searching up 'Smart Boy Industries' wielded a variety of results, such as the company's sketchy history, the range of products they didn't offer, and about a dozen product recall articles. One result, however, was the one Donnie was looking for. It was the company's website, and on it was a list of operating locations. Taking a note of the address of the nearest location, he closed up his work and put the laptop back in its resting spot before continuing with his plan. After shoving the creased scrapbook paper and a pocketful of pocket money into an empty envelope, the boy scrawled the address, along with his own, onto the back of it and headed outside.

 Crowe poked impatiently at the cartridge with a stick as flames flared up around it. Nasty crimson goo leaked from it, producing a horrible smell in the heat of the bonfire.

“It just won't burn!” The duck growled, smacking the offending object repeatedly with the stick in frustration.

“It's been in there for too long.” Red replied casually. “Maybe we should just call it quits and bury it, or throw it into the ocean.”

Just then, Donnie walked by with his bicycle, but his two friends didn't pay him too much mind.

“I'm just going to go post something.” He stated. “I'll be back soon!”

Red nodded and continued watching Crowe roll the digital mind around in the bonfire, inspecting it for any signs of fire damage.

 -.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 A few days later, a package arrived at the friends' front door. It was fairly small and had arrived entirely unexpected to Crowe, who had found it on the doormat. He cautiously picked it up in his feathered hands and inspected it, wondering what could possibly be inside, and from whom it had come. When he found the name of the sender, his eyes widened in a mixture of surprise and mild fear.

“Red?” Crowe called out. “Red, I think you should see this!”

Sensing a slight urgency in his friend's tone, Red made it to the front door fairly quickly, where he saw the duck holding a small package in his hands.

“Oh, who's it from?” Red asked, unperturbed.

“Smart Boy Industries!” Crowe replied.

Now Red could see why the duck seemed a little bit worried. Red had only recently been involved with anything relating to the company, and he wouldn't have thought they had even known about it, let alone cared. Perhaps they had caught wind of the attempted revival of perhaps the last remaining Computery Guy, and it was enough to elicit a response from them. He just hoped this package wasn't a bomb, or anything else malicious. Stranger still was who, specifically, the package was addressed to.

 “Donnie?” Red called out.

“Yeah?” The child's voice called back from another room in the house.

“There's something here addressed to you, some sort of package. What have you been doing?”

There was no verbal answer from Donnie, only the quick pattering of footsteps as he hurried over to the scene. When he saw the package, his face lit up with excitement.

“It worked!” He exclaimed. “It’s here!”

“What’s here?” Crowe asked sternly. “You haven’t been using Red’s credit card again, have you?”

Donnie snatched the package from Crowe’s hands and tore it open before the duck could protest. From the tightly-wrapped cardboard box he produced a styrofoam casing, and from the styrofoam casing he pulled out a very familiar-looking beige cartridge.

“Wait, is that…?” Red asked, his eyes wide in disbelief. “I thought we threw that into the ocean.”

“No, it’s a new one!” Donnie corrected.

“What?” Crowe squawked. “How did you get Smart Boy Industries to mail you a digital mind?!”

“I asked nicely.” Donnie replied with an innocent smile. “And I gave them my pocket money.”

“Never mind that.” Red spoke. “I just want to know if they actually sent us the real thing, or they’re just humouring us.”

 The games room door gently creaked open, revealing the somewhat familiar scene of Colin’s lifeless form resting upon the table. As lifeless as he was, that mild aura of unease remained. Red approached the computer with the cartridge in his hands, but hesitated to insert it. The cartridge looked just like the one he had pulled out of Colin several days back, but it seemed so much… Cleaner. There were no leaks or sticky residue. With noticeable apprehension, Red gently pulled the lid of the cartridge open, allowing himself and his friends to peer inside.

The contents of the cartridge were very different to what they had seen before. While Colin’s digital mind had been a mess of wires, boils, and mysterious fluids, this one was clean. It was simply a small pink brain-like mass wrapped in a teal wireframe. It was a real digital mind, just like the one Red had seen in those instruction manuals.

Red clicked the cartridge shut again, heeding Pillars Cloudfoot’s advice not to expose it for too long. Without another word, he inserted it into the back of Colin, where the previous digital mind had once resided, and turned to his friends.

“Well, I guess Pillars will be happy to hear that we-“

In the middle of the sentence, Colin abruptly began emitting a cheery chiptune song that nearly startled the three friends out of their skins. Red jumped back from the table, fearing the computer would grow aggressive once again.

However, once the cheery tune ended, Colin did not yell, or even speak. He opened and closed his eyes and mouth a few times, lifting his cord-like limbs and then resting them at his sides. His eyes shifted back and forth, observing the surroundings, before resting on Red and his friends.

 “Hello!” Colin greeted. “Thank you for choosing the Smart Boy Industries Computery Guy. My name is Colin, and I will be your guide into the digital world, a place of information and fun for the whole family! Before we begin, please enter your name. Then I will tell you some more about myself, and we can continue your registration of the Smart Boy Industries Computery Guy.”

Red, Donnie, and Crowe exchanged frightened glances. They hadn’t expected Colin to come to life again! Though they hadn’t expected him to reset, either. The computer that had once loathed and terrorised them was now happily introducing himself like a new acquaintance.

“Redmond Spaghett.” Red answered nervously.

“Hello, Edmond Spaghetti!” Colin greeted. “Is this name correct?”

“Wait, wh- No. It’s not.”

“Please repeat your name, or use my keyboard to type it in.” Colin suggested, pointing his blocky hand at the keyboard rested in front of him.

Red reached forward, hovering his furry hand over Colin’s colourful keys. The computer’s eyes were locked onto the hand, watching, waiting for him to begin typing. Red, however, decided not to risk it. Colin might have been reset, but he wasn’t ready to trust him again just yet.

“Redmond Great News Spaghett.” Red repeated clearly.

“Hello Edward Great News Smith!” Colin greeted again. “Is this name correct?”

“Yeah, Cloudfoot’s going to have a riot with this one.” Red muttered, turning to his friends.

“Great! Would you like to save this information before we continue, Mr Smith?” Colin asked.

Red shook his head and sighed at Colin’s misinterpretation of his words. He thought about responding once again, but he stopped himself, seeming lost in thought. After a lengthy moment of contemplation, Red spoke again.

“Actually, you don’t belong to me, or ‘Edward Smith’.” Red stated, reaching his arm around to the back of Colin

“I’m sorry, I do not understand.” Colin responded. “Please repeat your response, yes or no, or type ‘yes’ or ‘no’ with my keyb-“

Colin’s arms fell limp and his eyelids shut as Red pressed his power button. Now the computer was just as lifeless as he had been mere minutes ago, but functional.

 Crowe watched skeptically as Red slowly and shakily lowered Colin into the large cardboard box.

“I don’t understand.” The bird stated, scratching his head. “Mx. Cloudfoot would’ve paid goodness knows how much money for this… Thing, and you’re simply going to give it to them?”

“Yeah.” Red responded bluntly. “For good karma. Maybe if we do something kind we’ll get some peace from the you-know-what for a while. That, and I don’t want to wait for Pillars to get back, then go through all the price negotiations and whatever, to get rid of Colin.”

Crowe folded his arms and rolled his eyes as Donnie rocked back and forth restlessly beside him.

“I guess it’ll be a birthday present for them.” Red continued, filling the empty space around the computer with styrofoam beads. “I might throw a few birthday candles into the box too. Anyway, this has all just gotten too strange for me. I wanna get it over and done with, payment or no payment. For all I know Colin could still be, well, Colin, and I’m not the kind of person who makes people pay for things that are out to cause pain. Unlike whoever sold us that clock in the living room.”

Red sealed the box up and began labelling it with the address given on Pillars Cloudfoot’s website. As Donnie grew bored and left the room, Crowe hung his head somewhat dejectedly.

“You know what, Red?” He began with a sigh. “I think I might miss the old Colin a little. Sure, he may have been aggressive and incoherent at times, but he had personality, and that’s not something one gets from computers very often.”

Red finished packing and labelling the computer and turned to face the duck.

“Shut up, Crowe.”

[thedrakkenclaw]

…

...Everything is hazy…

...can’t move…can’t focus…

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

Izuku’s eyes snapped open at the chattering of a cheerful girl’s voice.

“...and it made me wonder, ‘what kind of magic would I have if I were a drak?’”

“It’s certainly an intriguing idea,” a more masculine voice stated. “I wonder if the drak are limited to the four states of matter, or if their categories of magic are deeper than that.”

Izuku look and felt around himself. He was caged in from all sides; a thick layer of glass on all sides of him but up, where a heavy metal grate lied fastened instead, and was wearing a dark blue jumper lined with bold red and white stripes - am I wearing a UA jumpsuit? Fluorescent lights hummed above him and linoleum tiles swamped the floor underneath. There was a persistent fuzziness in his head that was threatening to lull him back to sleep, but he was also consumed by a familiar panic that left him unable to rest, because he’d been-

Trapped.

By humanids, of all things, based on the room he’s being kept in. It’s not that drak couldn’t have relations with humanids per se, but in the past humanids have tried to use them for power games and take advantage of them for any number of reasons, and threaten death if they disobeyed. Since drak were generally nonviolent, reclusion on their part was only natural.

That was what his mom had told him, anyways.

He looked out again and tried to take in his surroundings. The girl’s voice probably belonged to the (cute) brunette elf with a bob, while the more stilted male voice likely belonged to the tall, broad-shouldered human standing next to her. The room was stocked with desks that were mostly uninhabited save for those two, and… Kacchan, and a couple of others who were mostly keeping quiet: an elf with rich yellow hair, the other a dark-haired human with curious-looking earlobes. Are those audio jacks…?

“So you’ve finally decided to join us, Deku?” Kacchan had gotten up right next to the glass, his voice grinding against Izuku’s ears. “And here I thought you’d done yourself in, idiot. Do yourself a favor and grow a spine.”

“Bakugou, knock it off!” The brunette almost yelled, “it’s only just waking up!”

“‘Cause your screeching’s really helping it a lot,” he sneered and pointed at Izuku. “Anyways, you’re at UA under our watch, so don’t do anything stupid,” his palms lit up with explosive little pops of heat, “or else. You’re to answer to us, and the better you do that, the better we’ll treat you. Got it?” He turned around and waddled off, muttering something like “stupid Deku…” as Izuku confirmed that he was, in fact, wearing a UA jumpsuit.

The door slammed behind him and signaled to the brunette to rise from her seat, and she hopped over towards the glass separating them. “Sorry about Bakugou,” she sighed, “he’s got a bit of a temper. Though… he said you two knew each other as kids? That’s really fascinating. What did you think of him?” She paused, an expression of thought blinking on, then off of her face. “I mean, you must still remember him, since you showed up the other night.”

He was tempted to respond to her since she seemed so earnest, but the fact that he was trapped in a cage and that she seemed to have some semblance of having worked for this situation, he thought better than to indulge. Instead, he just looked up at her face, trying to read her eyes.  Brown, just like her hair.

“Uraraka, we don’t know what that drak’s capable of. Talking to it may not be the best idea,” the tall human from before said. Uraraka turned towards him as he continued, “His magic may be more mental or emotional; some legends did have drak with those abilities.”

“Those drak were also supposedly ancient,” Uraraka retorted. “Bakugou said this drak’s our age.” She spun to face Izuku again, who hadn’t moved in the slightest since. “Hey, are you stressed? I’m sorry. If I were in charge of this project, we wouldn’t’ve captured you at all in the first place.”

“We wouldn’t even have a chance of getting it to talk if we didn’t capture it,” came a voice from the girl with the funky ears. “Besides, we’re getting information from it whether or not it responds verbally.”

Izuku panicked a bit at that. This was about information? Why would they need to capture him to get information? It’s true that humanids weren’t certain that drak even existed, but it’s not like drak had some agreement to withhold information from them - there’s just not that many drak, that’s all it is. That, and drak were often exploited, but if it’s just information they’re after…

“Isn’t this a bit much?”

All eyes were on him in an instant and he wanted to disappear.

“Oh, so it can talk,” the honey-haired boy spoke up. “I was getting worried it was, like, mute, or something.”

The tall boy approached the glass and made direct eye contact with Izuku. “This is UA High, the m-”

“-most prestigious Hero educational facility in all of Japan,” Izuku finished for him, monotone. “I know what UA is; Kacchan used to show me all sorts of humanid stuff back then.”

A few voices murmured, “Humanid…?” before Izuku could even realize his mistake - he’d answered a question he hadn’t been asked. Stupid impulse, you don’t need to explain yourself to people like that. Especially not when they’ve got you under lock and key. It wasn’t the end of the world, though, if they’d focused more on humanid, the catch-all for non-drak peoples, more than the actual statement he’d made-

“And you remember it now? That’s impressive,” said the boy. God dammit.

“Weren’t you just telling us that we shouldn’t be talking to it?” Ear-girl again. “Between stopping us from running in the dorms with your Quirk going nuts and this, you really are horrible at taking your own advice,” she chided.

The human staggered before he sputtered out, “W-well, between Uraraka’s reasoning and the drak’s inaction, I figured that it must be- it must be relatively safe to engage.”

This banter continued amongst them for a while, and Izuku eventually learned the tall boy’s name was Iida, “ear-girl” was Jirou, and the honey-headed boy was Kaminari. Jirou and Kaminari’s personalities clashed, Jirou consistently at Kaminari’s throat, but they were also complementary in some ways; perhaps they’d known one another for a while? Iida was a straight-edge, by-the-books sort of guy who apparently had little self awareness in the heat of the moment, though for him it seemed hindsight was 20/20. Uraraka lingered behind after the other three left together, Izuku making out the words “study” and “test tomorrow” as they walked through the door.

“So… Deku is your name?” The sound of Uraraka’s voice on its lonesome cut through his concentration and brought him back to the reality of the situation.

“It’s an interesting name,” she continued after he kept quiet. “Like a puppet? Are you an actor?”

He let out a quiet snort. Sure, whatever. Just going to ignore the fact that it’s an insult flat-out, then? What kind of drak culture does she think I deal with?

“It sounds sort of sweet, like dekiru! You can do it!”

“That wasn’t what Kacchan had in mind when he came up with it,” he mumbled, mostly to himself.

“‘Kacchan?’ Oh, that’s adorable!”

Izuku thought back to what Jirou had said about him being there for information, and it being provided whether or not he spoke, and mentally slapped himself on the wrist for not noticing the microphone sewn into his shirt’s turtleneck. After he picked up on that detail and felt it between his fingertips, he began to think about what other devices were planted on him... what else they could’ve been monitoring.

“Was he a nice guy back then?” She had a fanciful look on her face and her eyes weren’t focused on him - she was picturing something in her mind, probably a younger version of Kacchan. He read into them again, taking in the color of her irises, and, focusing on her person, settled into her mindscape with his signature subtlety to try and figure out what her angle was.

The first thing he noticed was that the younger version of Kacchan she’d envisioned was too volatile, and not nearly as proud nor cocky as he truly was. Izuku was quick to rectify that for her; his own memories could easily fill the gaps her imagination left for him.

He could see her intent, and must’ve subconsciously decided he could trust her as he told her, silent and direct, “We were friends, once. Before his Quirk manifested. My mom and his enjoyed the other’s company, so they would meet up and bring us along.” As he explained, the mental image he created shifted to match his story. “He always wanted to be the best hero, and he was always good at everything he tried! I wanted to be a hero, but I… wasn’t as good at things. He’d laugh at me for it, but it wasn’t until his Quirk manifested that he started to, uh…”

Izuku didn’t vocalize what happened at this point. He just showed his memories, which were more emotional and painful than they were sensory, until the last and particularly vivid memory wound itself up.

The cool spring air burned in his lungs, full of floral perfumes in the forest where he and Kacchan had met after school ended. Kacchan had heard Izuku calling out to him, asking to play, but when Kacchan finally succumbed and followed him to their clearing, he screamed, “My dad told me to stop hanging out with you, ‘cause you’re a freak!”

Izuku cocked his head at that, but didn’t respond. Kacchan gets angry a lot, and he didn’t want to provoke him if he didn’t have to.

“You… you’re a drak, aren’t you? My dad told me you’d kill me someday if I kept hanging out with you, so fuck off! I never want to see you again!” And with that, Kacchan put his palm, drenched in sweat, up to Izuku’s stomach, and let loose a spectacular explosion.

“I don’t remember anything after that, and I don’t remember seeing him after that either,” Izuku hummed, “until I was captured and brought here from the same clearing. I… don’t know why I still went there, as if I expected to see him or something. Maybe it just smells nice,” Izuku quietly laughed.

“Oh…” is all Uraraka could say.

“I know you’re going to tell all your friends,” Izuku said. “You can tell all sorts of stories about me if you really want to, but Jirou said that you’d captured me for the sake of gathering information, right? Tell her I’m not a stickler, and that I’d have been willing to talk if I weren’t trapped in a glass box.

“I don’t know why Kacchan turned on me so violently back then, but… if his dad really did tell him that, I can’t blame him for it. I can’t blame any humanids, really, and wanting more information is… well, I’m always thirsting for a bit more knowledge myself, so who am I to judge? I’m just… scared. I don’t know what you intend to do with me, and I’m scared you’ll hurt me, or try to find my mom or my dad and hurt them. It’s stupid on my part, honestly-”

“Do you ever stop monologuing?” Uraraka’s impatient physical voice rang out and cut him off from her mind entirely. “I get that you’re suspicious and you have every right to be - even if we don’t mean any harm, that doesn’t mean people with the information we gather couldn’t be malicious - but I’m going to do everything in my power to help you feel safe here.

“And… you said you wanted to be a hero, right?” Izuku nodded. “You’re at the right place for it, you know! Maybe you could watch our class some days.”

Across the room, the door crept open and Iida’s head poked through, saying, “Uraraka, it’s time to go. We were headed out to get a bite to eat, remember?” Uraraka jumped to her feet, scurrying out the door, and Izuku was alone.

He figured that it’d probably be a good idea to feel around his jumpsuit for more devices, to get an idea of how closely he was being monitored. All this stuff must be wireless. It’s a pretty impressive setup, actually; too bad it makes me super uncomfortable.

It didn’t take long for him to find that some of the monitors were attached directly to his skin instead of sitting in the fabric, so he slid the top off over his head and examined himself again. Probably detects heart rate and breathing, he thought, noting a selection of buttons taped on his chest. Others were stuck to his arms and a good several on his head and horns, and using the glass on the cage as a mirror as best he could, he could see several were stuck to his back as well. His wings had only a couple, and his tail had several as well - they’re probably just checking to see if the tail has anything unusual in it or something. Most humanids don’t have tails, he reminded himself.

At the thought of taking his pants off to check underneath that layer too, he became incredibly uneasy at the realization that he was stripped down to, at most, his underwear… but he had his doubts; they were doing it for information, after all. He stole a glance under his pants for a fraction of a second and his fears were proven correct. At least they had the decency to do it while I was unconscious - wait, no, that’s even worse! He hid his face in his arms and tried to shake off this bout of anxiety. It’s not about you, it’s because they’re trying to research drak, they weren’t trying to be invasive towards you - but… but why couldn’t they just ask me first? He curled in on himself a little tighter, and stayed that way for a good while before pulling the top back over his head and resolving not to think too hard about it.

He fails miserably at not thinking too hard about it, but once the image of Bakugou stripping him came to mind he shook his head hard and waved his arms around and tried to just focus on All Might. Just relax, calm down, pretend All Might’s got your back and helping you out of a pinch, I swear to god you can’t be going crazy just because you got knocked out and dragged away by some humanids, stop freaking out right now or you’ll never get out of here just shut up and stop thinking about it imagine All Might sitting next to you and telling you to go to sleep and letting go of this place to go to sleep go to sleep go to sleep

go to sleep

go to sleep

...

[elizas-writing]

Spoilers Galore: Star Wars VIII The Last Jedi

For a spoiler free review, click here to read first.

And yes, I still think fanboys are over-exaggerating on how bad it is, and you cannot convince me anything in this film is worse than “I don’t like sand. It’s coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere”-- okay, there’s one thing that comes close, but let me put the “read more” before I forget.

As mentioned in my spoiler-free review, the main problem of The Last Jedi is that it’s way too long and starts dragging after a while, even for the wonderful themes and character arcs it explores. And the most annoying has to be the back and forth between Poe Dameron and Admiral Holdo. Yes, Poe is often full of himself and too trigger-happy, but did Holdo really need to be secretive on her plan to escape the First Order? All of their ships are being blown up and more people are dying; why is she stalling? It makes no logical sense to run a military like that! This is definitely one of the parts which could have been cut to save the unneeded drama and not paint Holdo as a bad person, especially since she had that bad ass moment of going light speed THROUGH A DESTROYER.

Speaking of bad ass, it was freaking awesome to see Leia finally use the Force. Does it make sense for her to survive in the cold vacuum of space? Who the fuck cares? What matters is I got as much Leia as I hoped for, and yeah, they’ll either have to kill her off or keep her off screen for episode IX which is gonna be awkward for everyone, but let me have this and her final interactions with her brother before he faces off his nephew. And seeing Luke back in action at the end in his own smart ass way via hologram is equally hilarious and fun in giving Kylo the middle finger.

The parts on Canto Bight, while fun to watch, also started to drag on too long. Yeah, it’s fascinating to see such a seemingly beautiful place full of corruption and add on social commentary how war profiteers don’t care if they give weapons to the Resistance or the First Order. But don’t we have to get back to the Resistance before they’re annihilated? It’s really hard to maintain the overall high stakes and urgency when we’re constantly cutting back and forth between the side stories. And as fun as Benicio Del Toro is as this codebreaker, he really serves no other purpose and could’ve been cut out. Maybe they’ll bring him back in episode IX, but it felt like they were trying to retread Lando Calrissian’s arc without any payoff; they kinda just drop this character soon after he betrays Finn and Rose, so what was the point?

And another part which dragged on too long and actually got really uncomfortable were the interactions between Rey and Kylo Ren. I saw enough vague spoilers beforehand to pick up that Rey wouldn’t side with Kylo, but as I kept watching, I got more worried that she would or that some romantic feelings would form (not sorry, Reylo is an unhealthy and awful ship, and if you saw someone like Kylo in real life, you’d run to the hills). I get the point of Rey hoping if Darth Vader still had some good in him then maybe so does Kylo Ren. It’s an aspect which is relatable as we see neo-Nazism on the rise and have some optimism that maybe they’ll see the error of their ways, but slowly come to terms that you can only do so much to change someone who is stubbornly stuck in their ways. But yeah, it goes on for too long to the point where it gets creepy (yes, I verbally cringed when I saw Kylo shirtless and so did a number of other audience members), and it almost overshadows Rey’s relationship with Luke which should be the primary focus of her training scenes.

That being said, it is worth it in the end when Kylo hasn’t and probably will never change even after killing Snoke himself. It takes quite a turn on the manipulation dynamic associated with the Dark Side and really begs the question if Snoke really had to seduce Kylo to evil and how much of these thoughts Kylo was already harboring, and he just needed a catalyst who would feed on to his darkness. I think it makes him a lot more diabolical in dismantling the puppet-master archetype and pinning more responsibility on him than trying to make excuses or pass blame on someone else. And it makes me wonder what he’d be like running an empire especially with a complex power dynamic between him and Hux.

While I’m sure many people were hoping for Rey to be a long lost Skywalker, this film did right to destroy the idea of needing to be a part of a special bloodline and the old Jedi Order in order to play a part of a grand story. I love seeing her finally come to terms that her parents abandoned her, and they’ll never come back, but she can move on to find some other purpose. Who cares where she came from and if she’s “special?” She’s here to fight for what’s right, and that’s all that matters. Yoda sums it up perfectly that it’s time to move on to new ideas of the Force, and just that force-sensitive boy on Canto Bight looking up at the sky with Rose’s rebel ring is enough to give hope that a new kind of Jedi will come soon. With how much this movie burned through throwbacks to the original trilogy, I honestly have no idea what to expect for episode IX, and I’m excited. I can’t wait to see where our heroes and villains will be taken to next and what routes they’ll follow. I hope it’s just as, if not, more impressive than the last two. Until then, we have The Last Jedi to analyze how much it’s like our world and inspire us to never let Rebellion die.

[junker-town]

'Bachelorette' Episode 2 recap: DeMario is caught lying, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar stops by, AND SO MANY GOOD DOGS

Ashton Kutcher and Mila Kunis also make an appearance on the best episode of this show we’ve had in years.

It’s Bachelorette time. If you missed it, here’s last week’s recap of episode 1.

Welcome back, Sports Bachelor Nation. It’s Monday night of Memorial Day, so if you’re sitting on your couch sunburned and very full, please know you’re not alone. Luckily, we’ve got Rachel Lindsay’s search for happily ever after to distract us from the fact that we ate our weight in grilled meats (or vegetables, if you’re into that sort of thing) and drank a few too many beers over the past few days.

Speaking of beers, let’s watch some dudes get drunk and embarrass themselves on television as they try to make Rachel fall head over heels in love with them.

RACHEL’S DOG IS BACK!

We’re at Rachel’s temporary Bachelorette pad, where she’s talking about Her Journey so far. As she says that she’s getting good at being vulnerable, we zoom in on a shot of her dog with a cast on its leg. This seems like a metaphor, but I can’t be sure.

I have a message to the producers:

HELLO PRODUCERS PLEASE TELL US MORE ABOUT RACHEL’S DOG AND EXPLAIN WHY ITS LEG IS IN A CAST THANK YOU.

GROUP DATE ANNOUNCEMENT

In the mansion, the men are wearing henleys — official shirt of the Bachelor franchise. These men all look like the guy on the front of pack of Hanes shirts that you can buy in bulk at Walmart. I can only imagine that house smells like the men’s locker room before a middle school dance, and I sincerely hope Rachel isn’t asthmatic.

Chris “My Personal Trainer Says I’m Very Strong for a Man My Age” Harrison tells the men that A) there will be two group dates and one one-on-one this week and B) that he hopes the men are present for The Right Reasons.

HUSBAND HUNTING

The group date begins and we’re in a field. Rachel is grilling some burgers and shrimp. She throws a football because The Bachelorette is sports, and her spiral is better than many of the dudes’.

The arm of an angel! #TheBachelorette http://pic.twitter.com/KhCJWCrLUD

— The Bachelorette (@BacheloretteABC) May 30, 2017

In an aside to the camera, Blake — the aspiring drummer with a mushroom cut from my fourth grade class in the 90s — says that Lucas (Whaaabooooom Guy) is a garbage person who is NOT there for The Right Reasons. I can already tell that Blake’s made himself the Guy Who Hates Whaaabooooom Guy. Blake will undoubtedly spend most of his one-on-one time with Rachel trashing Lucas and then both Blake and Lucas will go home fairly soon after.

Rachel says that her friends are coming over. Her friends turn out to be Ashton Kutcher and Mila Kunis. It turns out that Ashton and Mila are huge Bachelor fans and called the producers to let them be on the show. I’m not sure if this is true, or if one of them has a contract with ABC and had to appear on this as part of a deal.

Ashton and Mila are funny. Mila is like, “Who here has health insurance?” Health insurance and kind eyes are really all I’m looking for in a man, so I appreciate this.

THE ULTIMATE HUSBAND OBSTACLE COURSE FOR VERY STRONG BOYS

Everyone knows the first thing a man must do when he’s trying to woo a woman is run an obstacle course that includes changing the diaper on a fake baby, running around with a vacuum, unclogging a drain that’s inexplicably clogged in the middle of a field, and buying her flowers.

The men do this. Kenny says he has an advantage because he’s super dad to his ten-year-old daughter, but Whaaabooom Guy wins thanks to what I think was an illegal stiff-arm. Mila calls him “Wazoozoo Guy.”

“I don’t think Rachel’s guy is in this group,” Ashton says, and I agree.

NIGHT DATE AT WHAT LOOKS LIKE A USED FURNITURE STORE

Rachel and her big strong boys go to an arcade bar or a used furniture warehouse (I can’t tell, which doesn’t bode well for the future of the establishment) for the evening portion of their date. Blake is on a tear, because it turns out he knows Lucas (Wazoozoo Guy) from before the show, because Lucas used to date Blake’s roommate. Lucas reads Rachel a poem and Rachel is kind, so she smiles, but the poem is terrible.

Blake is in full-on self destruction mode. He does indeed spend his one-on-one time trashing Lucas to Rachel, but it turns out there’s some back story here: Blake says he lives with Lucas’ ex-girlfriend, that Lucas is a “clown for TV exposure,” and that Lucas wears makeup so he’ll look good on TV.

(PLOT TWIST: The Hollywood Reporter did some digging and found that the two were on a previous reality show together.)

Blake leaves his time with Rachel having only spoken about Lucas. Lucas and Blake then trade dumb insults for a while until Lucas, who is slurring his speech because he’s so drunk, says Blake “is dismissed.” The producers zoom in on a creepy clown face, which feels like another metaphor.

DEAN’S SURPRISING COME-FROM-BEHIND

Dean shocks the world by making Rachel laugh a lot and stirring up what seem like romantic feelings. Rachel tells Dean she truly did like it when he said, “I’m ready to go black and I’m not going back,” but that she wanted to say it first, and he stole her line. Dean, who is 25 and slightly awkward, looks extremely relieved. His hand is on her leg.

Kenny and Rachel have a nice moment where Kenny tells her about his daughter. Kenny is earnest, sweet, and kind. I think I love Kenny.

Rachel gives Dean — whose name might as well be Blake, he totally looks like a Blake — the First Impression rose and he then makes out with her. Looks like a decent kiss. Better than Bryan’s from last episode at least. Rachel seems pleased.

QUICK ASIDE ABOUT LEE

We cut to Lee, the singer-songwriter du jour, for a moment during the group date. He’s at the mansion, talking shit about the other dudes, and you can tell the producers are setting him up to be The Real Villain (Lucas is The Clown-y Villain). These wily puppeteers producers are brilliant.

PETER’S MAGICAL DOG DATE FROM HEAVEN

Peter gets the one-on-one date. This isn’t shocking, because Rachel seemed so drawn to him last episode. He’s very handsome and knows how to drive, which is always a plus in a partner. He proves he can drive by driving Rachel in a Tesla to a private plane. Tesla must’ve paid out the ass for sponsorship this season because they’ve featured very prominently so far.

On the tarmac, Rachel throws a serious curveball when she says that this date will actually be a two-on-one, because her injured best friend is coming along. I’m like, man, is this going to be another famous person, like Kawhi Leaonard?

AND THEN IT’S HER DOG!!! It’s Rachel’s adorable, hurt, beautiful dog Cooper. The producers must’ve heard me (and the rest of America) as we clamored for more information about this adorable pooch, because here he is.

I am tearing up.

THERE ARE SOOOO MANY GOOD DOGS ON THIS DATE OH MY GOD

Rachel, Peter and Cooper get on a private plane and fly to a dog party at a dog hotel.

This date isn’t fair to the other contestants, because who wouldn’t immediately fall in love with a handsome man who took them to a dog hotel? We still don’t know how Cooper was injured, but we do know that Peter would move to Dallas for Rachel, and that the sparks, they are a flyin’. Peter dances with Cooper in a sea of other humans who are also dancing with their dogs.

Both Peter and Rachel have personalities, which is something new and different for this show. My key takeaway so far is that we all need dogs, and then we need handsome men, and then we need those man to bring all of us to dog parties at dog hotels.

TOOTH DATE

Rachel and Peter go on a delightful evening date where they talk about their matching tooth gaps (never thought I’d find a conversation on dentistry so fascinating, but here we are). Copper gets his own seat.

And then something wonderful happens: Both Rachel and Peter talk about how they went to see therapists after their last relationships fell apart. As an anxious person who believes strongly in therapy, I am highly, highly, highly in favor of getting rid of the stigma that goes along with taking care of mental health issues. Talking about it openly on national television is important, unexpected, and I’m here for it.

Appropriate fireworks for a smitten kitten! #TheBachelorette http://pic.twitter.com/eNRSt1PcIK

— The Bachelorette (@BacheloretteABC) May 30, 2017

Rachel is the best lead in this history of reality TV. Peter is the clear front-runner right now.

BASKETBALL DATE

Rachel and another group of merry men go to play basketball at a school gym. I can’t help but feel like maybe ABC is playing into how many sportswriters watch this show, because there are so many sports this season. There are also good dogs, which are definitely sports.

And then Kareem Abdul-Jabbar shows up to coach basketball.

This is very much sports, too, but it’s also somewhat surprising, because Kareem wrote a nuanced and spot-on op-ed in February about how The Bachelor and Bachelorette have had an abysmal amount of diversity and a serious lack of any real conversation:

“The real crime is the lack of intellectual and appearance diversity, which leaves the contestants as interchangeable as the Mr. Potato Head parts. The lack of racial diversity has already been commented on. If you’re black on The Bachelor or The Bachelorette, you’re usually kept around as a courtesy for a few weeks before being ejected. Those outside the ideal body fat percentage index need not apply. With all eyes firmly fixed on firm buttocks, the criteria for finding love becomes how high a quarter will bounce off rock-hard abs. Will we ever witness a conversation that isn’t so bland and vacuous that words seem to evaporate as soon as they are spoken?”

Maybe ABC listened? At any rate, the network has finally (however horribly and belatedly) made a black woman the Bachelorette. Perhaps Kareem decided he’d give the show a shot at redeeming itself and have some fun with Rachel in the meantime.

"I found it very interesting that he dunked on me today." - Rachel to Kareem. @TheRachLindsay @kaj33 #TheBachelorette http://pic.twitter.com/5RqqgSSg1p

— The Bachelorette (@BacheloretteABC) May 30, 2017

Kareem will not give these guys a chance to redeem themselves at basketball, though, because they don’t deserve one. Lee is terrible. Kareem laughs a lot. Like, at Lee. Not with him. I love this.

EVERYTHING IS FINE

Everything is going great — the guys play a basketball game in front of a packed crowd, which includes the human version of one of those blow-up guys in front of car dealerships:

Rachel and DeMario (who by now has compared himself to Michael Jordan, Tom Brady, LeBron James and Kobe Bryant) have been seriously vibing on this date, and it’s looking like she’s going to give him the Immunity Rose, a.k.a. The Bachelorette’s version of an Epi Pen.

AND THEN NOTHING IS FINE

Uh oh. This woman named Lexi shows up and claims that DeMario is her boyfriend (actually she says, “Karma’s a bitch, isn’t it DeMario?”).

Lexi says she saw DeMario on After the Final Rose at the end of Nick’s season, when DeMario was one of the guys who showed up to meet Rachel before her season started. DeMario pretends not to know Lexi at first, which is a mistake, because Lexi has text messages between the two of them in which DeMario says, “goodnight, babe.”

Nominate this for Act Break of the Year #TheBachelorette http://pic.twitter.com/7xHtRTNo1V

— Mark (@tole_cover) May 30, 2017

Lexi says the texts prove DeMario never ended their relationship before he went on the show, but DeMario says he ended it in person, so there wouldn’t be any texts. Rachel gives DeMario a chance to explain what happened, but he kind of fumbles through it, saying that Lexi is nuts. Lexi swears on her father’s grave and on her two kittens that DeMario is lying. She also calls him a piece of trash. DeMario is like, “I don’t have keys to your apartment!” And then he’s like “Oh, those keys. Yeah, I mailed them back.”

Both of these people are... maybe not the best.

Rachel lays down the law: “I don’t want to be played, I don’t want to be made a joke of, so I’m really going to need you to get the f[bleep] out. I don’t like being f[bleeping] embarrassed.”

"I’m really going to need you to get the f*@% out!” -Rachel#TheBachelorette http://pic.twitter.com/dbXKvlfbQa

— The Bachelorette (@BacheloretteABC) May 30, 2017

She sends DeMario home. Lexi also leaves.

RACHEL LAYS DOWN THE LAW SOME MORE

Rachel goes into the locker room and she’s like DON’T FUCK WITH ME, YOU ASSHOLES.

And by that I mean she graciously and kindly says:

“I pride myself in being real. If any of you have a girlfriend, please just tell me now, because it makes me sick that I sent people home. So with that being said, I’ll see you tonight.”

The guys are like WHAAAAAAT and pretend they can’t believe anyone would ever cheat or do anything bad. One guy, maybe Lee (or another Blake, or another Dean, I don’t know, there are too many) says, “That’s insane to me, how can you be so duplicitous?”

And I’m like, oh yeah, because I’m sure all of you are a bunch of goddamn saints.

NIGHT DATE AFTER THE DEMARIO DISASTER

Rachel tells the camera that “DeMario is a dirty, dirty dog” and that it’s making her “question the other men’s real intentions. I need to look past charm and see them for who they are and recognize their true character.”

"I need to look past the charm and see them for who they are and recognize their true character." -Rachel#TheBachelorette http://pic.twitter.com/F5tVAYpfut

— The Bachelorette (@BacheloretteABC) May 30, 2017

That seems maybe not possible after two weeks of knowing someone, but if anyone can do it, I believe it’s Rachel Lindsay.

The other guys, meanwhile, are still milking the DeMario thing for all its worth. They’re all like I WOULD NEVER HURT YOU OR ANY WOMAN LIKE THAT!

Right. And my uncle’s the Easter Bunny.

Josiah swoops in and acts all protective, which could seem bad, but seems maybe good? I don’t even know anymore. But he’s wearing a great outfit, he’s quite attractive, and he’s very smooth, so I am somewhat taken with him. Rachel seems to be, too, because she gives him the Immunity Rose.

A FEW RANDOM THOUGHTS

Diggy wears Von Miller glasses. I like Diggy, I think.

We have a Diggy and an Iggy, which is confusing.

Alex sings to Rachel in Russian.

Rachel tells Eric that quality time and physical touch are the things that make her feel loved. I love how sex positive she is. Go Rachel. All women should have good sex.

We haven’t seen enough of Anthony!!!!! I want more of Anthony!!

Kisses on live mics are disgusting.

We’re only two episodes in and this entire episode is better than Nick’s whole dumb season.

DEMARIO COMES BACK?!

So Bryan, the one who kissed Rachel first, is a chiropractor. He sets up a massage table at the cocktail party and gives her a massage. Bryan creeps me out, but massages are good, and Rachel seems into him.

Rachel and Iggy are playing a thumb war (sexy!) when DeMario comes back to try to explain himself. The security guy goes to get Chris Harrison, who is probably asleep at his house in L.A.

But Chris eventually shows up, and he’s like... okay, DeMario, I’ll tell Rachel you’re here, but it’s up to her if she wants to talk to you. Chris is doing more this season than he did for all of the past three combined.

Rachel is curious. She goes to talk to DeMario.

Meanwhile, the dudes are like “Wait, is that Chris? He’s not supposed to be here!” And then they realize DeMario is back, and they charge out like an angry mob to go get rid of him.

AND THEN THE EPISODE JUST ENDS

This is the best season of this show I’ve ever seen, and Episode 2 was the best episode. We had drama up the wazoo, promising suitors, and Rachel, who’s smart, funny, and sincere in a not-corny way that makes you actually believe such things as The Right Reasons (or something close to them) exist. I hope she gets her own talk show after this so we can keep watching her conduct the people around her like a symphony. Actually, no, I hope she does whatever the hell she wants to do with the love of her life.

I hated this show after Nick, but now I can’t wait for next week. HOWEVER: if the producers keep doing this stupid cliff-hanger shit, I will call Cooper The Adorable Injured Dog and demand he pull rank to make them stop.

[chloedodds64-blog]

Simon Terrill - Crowd Theory

As well as looking at how I was going to create my motion blur images in the studio I also wanted to look at different methods of how people have used a long exposure and created a motion blur. In SImon’s ‘The Swarm’ you can see that he has used a long exposure to create a blurred image showing the movement of people. I found ‘The Swarm’ really captivating, the image was of a massive crowd of people which had been shot with a long exposure, this created a really cool effect because of the way some of the crowd had been stood still and then in between the still people there was a lot of movement from other people which created a sort of swarm, because it gave the impression that people had moved quite quickly. The use of motion blur is imperative to this image because Simo wanted to explore the way crowds swarm together and move together. In the image, the blurred effect is used to show the movement around each horde of people. 

Simon Terrill is an Australian photographer who specialises in photographing crowds, he started off his career working for a company called Snuff Puppets, he then from there dabbled with other projects and eventually found his way to photography. Simon is one of the part-time lecturers at the London South Bank University.

It was fascinating hearing about the projects he had done and how he had organised the crowds using these massive speaker systems. I found the Balfron Project really fascinating because of how it was a very personal project as he’d been part of the community. The Balfron project was a project in which Simon Terrill decided to photograph the community which he lived in, the way that he organised it was by making contact with each of the residents in the tower block and asked them whether they wanted to be involved or not and if they did then they would have full control of how they wanted to express themselves within the final image. Until it was mentioned I hadn’t noticed that in the windows and in the buildings you could see ever so slightly the outline of the individual families, it was interesting to look back and see all of these set ups. One set up which was actually quite eerie was in one of the walkways where a family had set themselves up to be stood emotionless in height order.