#hello homeless person have a pennie

[elxgcntmoved-blog]

                                                  @iustitiac​ for tiny Chiyori 

     “I’m not supposed to talk to strangers --” Innocently she places a coin on the ground besides him. “..so you’re like .. a homeless magician right? Can you pull a rabbit out of a hat.” She gasps softly. “Can .. you pull a kitten out of a hat?” That’s why he had a staff right? Or was he just being strange. 

[popculturebuffet]

Ducktales Comics: Spies Like Us and Dime after Dime or Weblena: The Preschool Days (Lena Retrospective) (Comissioned by WeirdKev27)

Hello all you happy people and welcome back to Shadow Into Light, My Lena Retrospective, which fittingly has now come to Women’s History Month! I sadly do not have anything besides this arc prepared for the month. This month is pretty packed for me with two shows a week to cover, as while there’s only two weeks of Ducktales left final space starts up right after to take it’s spot, two arcs to cover, and two time specific movie reviews: animal crossing the movie and the 1990 TMNT film. I will try to get more than the currently planned top 12 superheroines list out there... but this month is very tight as is, so if I do not I deeply apologize.

Now that’s out of the way, it’s appropriate we start Women’s history month on some likely lesser known parts of Lena’s history, with some comics stories focusing on our faviorite emo lesbian duck and her 87 counterpart. Before I get started on that though Kev my patreon pointed out something intresting a few weeks back i’ve been forgetting to get to and since we’re looking into Minima, I felt this was the perfect time to do so: Lena’s Concept art. 

There’s quite a few things to gleam from this. For starters as pointed out in the reddit thread I got the image as a whole from this was made in 2015, meaning Lena was one of the first new characters designed for the series and was part of it from the VERY early stages, as evidenced by the fact that despite clearly having their new personalities established, Beakly and Webby still had the old designs. 

The other notable change is that her first design was way more like both Magica nad Minima, a bit more modern, but clearly far more obvious who she was related to. She also had all black feathers making the shadow twist a bit more obvious and was likely done away with both to avoid giving that twist away, the same reason for the fake lestrange name, and to avoid accidently black coding her, as while Lena being black would’ve been intersting, it also would’ve invited a firestorm of controversy given that their one black character in season 1.. woul’dve started off as a homeless, manipulative antagonist, and none of that would play well nor was it something the progressive crew of this show couldn’t spot from a mile away.  And even this early on they have an almost final design ready, simply changing the shirt to fit her personality more, and her hair to be pink because it honestly looked better She also had green eyes throughout, but for whatever reason they phased them out. That part I don’t quite get as they look nice but probably they were hard to translate to the reboot style once they settled on their own. Her purple eyeshadow and haircut though have stuck since and were good calls. 

One last VERY obvious note.. Webby was gay for Lena from minute one. While Dana helped it is now VERY obvious they gay coded this relationship from the design phase, and the crew was entirely aware the whole time and I gave them less credit than I should have. They clearly had this in mind, and it’s very likely ONLY subtext because Disney, while making more and more progress, is very reluctant to have queer characters as Owl House was a struggle and since they have a tighter leash on properites based on the sensational 6, that means Frank knew they had the same odds of making Webby or Della queer in anything but subtext that a pig has of suviving in a slaughterhouse. I bring this up because I fear the series getting accused of queerbaiting somewhere down the road instead of doing what they could with a bad hand and hoping they could make the show as gay as they could. Penny is as out as they posisbly could get her, and Violet and Lena’s dad’s got a full apperance, if no speaking role that made it obvious beyond a shadow of a doubt their gay and did it in a plot important episode. So they did their best and I want them to get credit for that. 

But while this is all intresting stuff, join me under the cut for the meat of today’s review as I dig into Lena’s only apperance in the tie-in comic that was never punished here, and the only apperance of her protoype Minima.

Spies Like Us:  As I mentioned this comic was never published here which is doubly weird to me because of how I knew this story existed. Since I follow comics weekly and buy trades reguarly, I read the solicits companies put out eveyr month to see what new series are coming, what the ones i’m currently reading are doing, and what trades are coming out. That sort of thing, and it’s something I love. I know their basically adds.. but their well put together adds that really pull you into the books you like. The big two and the indies are all very good at it and sometimes i’ts the only way to know a comic is coming if the company dosen’t make a press release for it ahead of time. 

So naturally given there are several comics I follow at idw, paticuarlly the TMNT comics, I read those solicits and found they were going to do an issue with Webby and Lena becoming spies, and was excited about it. I ended up forgetting about it and never really followed the Ducktales comic as it came out, and upon reading an issue or two recently, one for another comission by kev as one story, happy happy valley, was particularly terrible. For those who haven’t read the story or my review, it involved the family getting stranded on an island where their forced to partake in activites and smile..that somehow turned into an aseop about Louie wanting to be rich. It ended with this

Yes.. really. That actually happened. But even with this, I fully planned to cover the issue when I covered Lena, and brought it up to Kev when he commissioned the retrospective. He gave me the discord equilvent of a blank stare and had never heard of it. I soon found out why: the story was replaced as, and fair play to disney, it spoiled Beakly’s past from the agent 23 episode which wasn’t going to air in time.  What dosen’t work is they never reprinted the story in The US.. didn’t put it in a future issue and just swap it’s place didn’t put it in the nothing. And the story was fully complete as we’ll see, with a cover and everything so they had no excuse whatsoever to NEVER use it, even with what happened to Lena in the season finale, this clearly took place before that and it was weird to just shelve it because of that. But thankfully when a bunch of the stories were reprinted overseas, this and another one, also webby centric got published overseas. But not in english.

Lucky for me, I was able to find an english translation of an english story which you can read RIGHT HERE. It was translated by @neopuff and I thank them for it as without them this review would not be possible and want to give them all the credit. So was it worth all their hard work translating it? Well let’s take a look. 

We begin at the Manor where Lena is skulking around suspiciously.. though it turns out she and Webby are just playing hide and seek. Though Lena accuses cheating. The dialouge here is pretty flat though that’s not Neopuff’s fault at all. As I can attest from reading other stories a lot of the early IDW comics are just this flat in dialoguge no matter the writer as they were likely given character descriptions and basic info about the show they likely had written up for merchandising and Frank and Co were given no involvement and likely weren’t made avaliable to consult on the comics to help them be a bit more fleshed out. It’s very obvious to me Disney just tried to get these pumped out so they’d have a series in stores to tie in without carring about qualities and given Scrooge debuted in comics, their lack of care toward that side of things in general, but especially in the first american published original duck comics in a while, bothers me a lot. It’s inexcusable. 

That being said the story isn’t half bad nor is the setup as the two hear a beeping and find it’s Beakly’s phone going off with a mysterious message from Q, Webby thinks she’s been reactivated, and is encouraged by Lena to go look after her while she stays along. While Webby says in response

It just feels grossly out of character for both. Lena is far more subtle about manipulation as shown five minutes ago and Webby blindly trusts her. Because she has a massive crush on her and is naïve about how the world works. It just seems very odd of her to get suspicious as she never does on screen, and again it comes off as Disney having barely given the writers any materials on them when i’m sure Frank or Matt would’ve been happy to write up a thing for them to help outside of the usual press materials they were given. 

Though hte last line isn’t all that out of character and has an obvious answer as within a jumpcut Launchpad’s taking them to London and is told to blend in.. which he does with an australian flag and accent.. good gag. 

So our heroines do some heroic breaking and entering and look for the package, but soon find while hiding it’s already in transit.. and had obvious bows on int. Whoops. Our heroes trie the old follow tha tcar bit and refreshingly, it dosen’t pan out as the guy stops and tells them to get out. A nice twist. Unable to follow, our heroes instead find launchpad lost, as his map is upside down

So Lena dares him if he can follow that plane, a nice bit of character for both. I will give Joe credit. While the dialouge’s a bit flat and there was that out of character moment.. for the most part he does nail the actual character down and does use it decently enough. He’s just not given enough page room or actual details to work  with is all. 

So while our heroes follow they end up having to crash as they run out of fuel.. lucky their with the expert but end up near home where the package is delivered to. Turns out this wasn’t a spy thing, this was just a thing with her aunt. That’s fine and a nice gag.. it’s just ruined by just sorta.. ending. Lena leaves disapointed and Beakly scolds webby for “playing spy” and she’s sad. That’s it that’s how it ends. Which dosen’t fit the characters, as while Beakly would defintely scold her, it just dosen’t FIT that she’d be that tearse or not appricate the effort or give her an actual lecture and it feels like Joe had no idea how to end this after the gag and just.. ended it. 

Final Thoughts for Spies Likes Us: This was okay.  It is a bit of a disappointment as for the only story not available.. i’ts just okay and not really above an average Ducktales comics story, with some nice character bits but feeling a bit weak overall, as do at least the first half of the idw comics. I haven’t read the later stuff to see if it got better. It’s worth a read if you like Webby and Lena as characters and it’s not BAD, it’s just not anything impressive and is a simple hyjinks filled misunderstanding story. 

Dime After Dime:

So now  we go back a bit to the original. I didn’t do these in chronological order because frankly, Dime after Dime is the better story of the two and the bigger one at that, so I have more to work with here. But the original also had comics and honestly from the few i’ve read much BETTER comics. I chalk this up to two things: The Ducktales 87 comics seem to have come out AFTER the series was already a hit, and since Ducktales is pretty close to the original uncle scrooge comics minus it’s own tweaks here and there, it’s easy enough to just write the stories like you would a regular uncle scrooge story, just with Webby and Launchpad added, whereas the idw writers were staffed with writing for all new versions of the characters with noticable differences without much to go on.  It’s why to me with tie in comics you have two options: Wait long enough so you can put your story inbtween the episodes like the Steven Universe and Regular Show comics did or just make your own continuity entirely like the Adventure Time Comics and the Archie TMNT Adventures series did. The ONLY time i’ve seen a comic work like this is the Bravest Warriors comic, which had a talented writer and fit well enough in the margins until it sadly ended.. and honestly is BETTER in some cases than the series. I might get to it someday. The point is this comic shows why you need to have a deft hand adapting something instead of just falling your arms about and hoping it’ll work. 

So today’s comic was part of some Disney Series called cartoon tales, which clearly repackaged comic stories from wherever, and put them together. I don’t know much about it and the only other issue avaliable collects the disney adventures adaptation of “Just Us Justice Ducks”, which I might cover at some point. This book does have two other stories which i’d be happy to do on comission or on my own at some point, one involving gladstone the other gizmoduck, but for now, i’m just sticking to the title story and the reason you all came here. 

So we open with Magica gazing into her crystal ball from her Mt. Vesuvies base saying that Scrooge will never know what hit him I know exactly what and who wiil hit him thank you very much. 

Scrooge is seeing Webby off to her first day of day camp, getting all teary eyed which is touching. Beakly apparently goes with her as the story never SAYS Sshe does but she’s not also not around when the story moves on, as Launchpad says it looks like rain. Scrooge dismisses him, though Launchpad turns out to be right. Scrooge had good reason for once though, instead of just being a dick good on you comic for making me not want to punch him in the face, trust me that is a high bar to clear with the scrooge comics, as the weather was fine just a minute ago. Naturally it was Magica All Along! Nothing scrooge can do now that eveyrthing has gone wrong! Her entrance though is sadly not a catchy earwormy tune, but .. this confusing line

I think your thinking of Gladstone. And he’s still single so.. have at that but no Scrooge is the one who values hard work over anything else and brags about THAT or being rich. I .. I don’t get this line and frankly I don’t want to. Even in stories where the dime is supernaturally lucky and the source of his wealth he dosen’t boast about it because he’s not stupid and dosen’t want everyone knowing how to bankrupt him instantly. This line will baffle me until I die, presumably, given my life’s tragetctory, after reviewing an episode of mighty ducks and slipping on some a jerky wrapper. 

Scrooge asks what she wants... 

No this isn’t that kind of story sadly. Her plan is to.. zap the bin with lightning and take the dime. Really just went with your first draft didn’t you magica? But as stupid as this plan is Scrooge has prepared for it. He installed a lightning rod on the bin to save on power, and to power his new super soaker traps. So all Magica did was save him money. She flies off and nothing is acomplished. 

So we get back to Webby at the Teenie Weenie Day Camp.. and just so you don’t think that was a terrible joke on my part...

My theory for how this name got approved at all is the editor KNEW how that sounded and just wanted to see if Disney would actually print a comic with the phrase Teenie Weenie without getting what it means in slang or how hilariously inapproriate it is to namme a children’s camp after it. 

Your probably wondering who that grown woman calling Webby a dweeb is. Well story wise, she’s SUPPOSED to be another kid at the camp around Webby’s age. In practice, she looks like THIS in closeup

So it looks and plays like a 30 year old woman snuck into the day camp and no one’s noticed she’s not actually a children. Or their just humoring her because she had a week to live. I don’t know. I do know she doesn’t get to judge on names. 

Snippy Von Glitz, proof rich people really do hate their kids and this this comic is trying personally to give me material. Snippy is your average alpha bitch, taking a chair from Minma and being obnoxious and classist and all that jazz. Minima gets hers back by making the chair bouncy then returning it to normal so Snippy gets in trouble when she makes up things about the chair, with the lady in charge getting ready to call her Dad. You cannot convince me that her “Dad” is just what she calls her husband, this is how they both get off, and that the lady at the preschool only tolerates it because they pay her a lot and so far the kids haven’t noticed Snippy is 30. Webby likes minima finding her name pretty, proving that the ho yay is alive no matter the webby and magica relative, and Minma returns the favor by saving her from a block. 

Minma is reluctant to make an actual friend, finding they aren’t worth anything and given most of the kids here apparently pick on her and her aunt is well.. Magica, it’s understandable why she’d be so cold. But Webby presses on and says something from Scrooge about friends. Which given Ducktales scrooge has none goes weird but it gets Minma to find out she knows and lives with Scrooge, so she cons webby into taking the dime for show and tell, showing that she can manipulate them with her powers, and that he won’t notice it’s missing, getting her with “I thought you wanted to be friends” 

So let’s pause for a second and compare and contrast the two: Both are the niece, or at least sorta in Lena’s case, of Magica, both manipulate webby, and both are her first real friend: The 87 boys are little monsters and I don’t consider them friends or even brothers, while the 2017 ones are just that: brothers. Their her siblings in all but blood, not friends and have hteir own long complicated history. 

But otherwise the two are vastly different. Lena is a far more complex character as she’s been abused her whole life, is a rebel because Magica hardly gave her agency, and while she starts wooing webby out of self interest it’s clear even as far as the first episode she cares. Lena would gladly be part of the world if she could and this whole scheme is to gain that choice. 

Minma is still sympathetic but very different: She walls herself off because the other kids laugh and mock her for being herself and lashes out at them.. not unreasonably mind , but still feeling she needs no one else.. but as we’ll learn later she’s only helping Magica to finally feel accepted, to get all the fancy clothes and stuff that will make her popular instead of that grown woman masquerading as a kid for disturbing reasons. Minma is at her heart just a hurt kid desperate to fit in. And while Lena shares the desire for a place to belong.. it’s at it’s core much sadder. Lena.. wants a family. Someone to love her and to care about her and actually look after her. Minma has that she just wants to be loved. it’s similar but very diffrent and I can see why Lena evolved into what she did, as Frank and Matt ended up going in a far darker but ultimately more interesting direction. Minima is not a bad character at all though and without her I don’t think we would’ve had Lena, but at the end of the day the 87verse is just not that complicated, so the reboot needed something more and that more evolved into who we have now. 

Both kids excitedly talk about their new friends, with their respective guardians being distracted. Scrooge is distracted by the fact his car is a bit bumpy and Launchpad offers to fix it up for free with some parts from a buddy, which given the sentence “This won’t cost you anything” makes him erect, Scrooge agrees. Magica meanwhile, whose watching Minima while her mom is away which raises a LOT of questions we don’t have time for like who she is, is she’s poes wife or does Magica have other siblings... it’s a lot of questions we’re never going to get answers to. 

The next day Webby got the dime easy as Scrooge was distracted. so Minima swaps them while she’s distracted. But while swiping it was easy, which to be fair Webby is likely approved in his security so it woudln’t match her.. or the story just needed to progress. You make the call. 

Magica does the logical thing and goes and get sthe dime and the story ends there.. and i’m shitting you, she of course brags to scrooge, reveals minima as her spy, and offers to RACE him for it shortly after he realizes he has a fake.

The only major flaw in this story is Magica’s overconfdience, which isn’t BAD persay, but here has gotten to dumbass proportions. She just can’t plan for anything and a CHILD has a better plan than her that only dosen’t work for reasons we’ll get to. And that plan is almost ruined by Magica taunting scrooge!

So a race is on but Launchpad has transformed Scrooge’s old Model T into this

Damn that’s cool. Scrooge of course dosen’t like it, but honestly you get what you paid for. Oh that’s right you paid nothing for something you NEED to use every day for transportation. 

At  the rickity thickity bridge, Steve Buschemi’s worst roll and her minion ask Webby to roll with them and Minima mistakes this for betrayal planning to soak them all.. only for Webby to DEFEND HER, pointing out minma’s her friend, how she dresses is fine and she loves her no matter what.. the last part’s implied. The 30-year old asshole and her minon leave Webby and Minma is genuinely touched, as no one’s done that for her before. She put up so many walls... she didn’t realize someone could ACTUALLY care about her, so obessed with thinking she had to be like that soccer mom in preschoolers clothing, she just had to be herself: kinda werid but in that fun adams family way. Webby says she knows Minma would do the same.. so while she prepares to let’s get back to the race. Magica realizes Launchpad’s roadster is actually gaining and spreads some tacks, but Scrooge counters with some money.. because of course he has a lot of money in the trunk. But Magica takes out the bridge and while scrooge awesomely JUMPS IT... he’s still too late. 

As you probably guess though, Minima had a change of heart, and gave Webby the real dime back, and Scrooge confirms it. Minima TRIES to tell Magica, and Magica is horrified her niece is a goody goody “I”ll never hear the end of it at my astral aerobics class”.. I.. I want to see that. Let’s raise those spirit ladies and kick kick that soul, doge that shadow king punch them in the soul. Yes! Now eat it eat it and absorb it’s power!

We end on a button joke as Webby apologizes for taking the dime., Scrooge accepts it and Webby tells them magica learned to carpet and they gulp for some reason. 

Final Thoughts on Dime after Dime: This story was decent. It has problems, some jokes don’t land and Magica is made horribly incompetent, but minima’s character arc is endearing, and Webby herself is precious as always and her winning Minima over feels genuine. And Scrooge is in prime adoring uncle mode with her and i’ts just so cute. And the roadster race is pretty awesome to watch honestly. It’s an exceptional and enjoyable tie in story.. and not the last ducktales 87 story we’ll be covering here. Wink wonk. 

Next Time: Things get DARK as Lena and Webby head into the depths of Scrooge’s hidden bin and Lena heads into the depths of her own soul. 

Tommorow: Woo-Ooo mofos as we go back to the very beginning of the reboot! A family restored, a lost city to explore, and a glomgold rises! Be here or be square. 

[jay-simps]

Hello.🙂

For the ask game: 🐕, 🤗, 💌 and 😇?

hi! welcome! Gonna do this with Jasper & Spinel and ourself (of course) (sorry if you wanted someone else, feel free to send more asks)

🐕- most likely to pet a random dog on the street?

Spinel, definitely.

🤗 Initiate cuddles?

Us, most likely. We are hella touch starved. But realistically all of us probably would (Jasp w/ some convincing)

💌 - write love letters/cute messages for the others?

Us likely. To make sure they both know they're loved! Can also see Spinel doing it occasionally!

😇- Give pennies to a homeless person on the street

Us only on the fact that as gems, they might not understand how monetary exchange and homelessness (also needing no food or such as gems) works. Can def see Jasper having a secret soft spot for it tho, dunno why lmao.

thanks for the ask! feel free to send more!

[kingangelrose]

RWBY Volume 8 Chapter 1 Recap

“Divide” ------------------

We start off this new volume by seeing a girl scrubbing a wooden floor, that girl was Cinder Fall, before she was with Salem, this memory caused the Cinder now to scratch the seat of the airship seat that Neo was sitting in.

Cinder tells Neo to fly the ship over in the storm where the giant Grimm whale is, along with swarms of flying Grimm around it, going to return to Salem and give her the relic.

The whale opens its mouth, letting Cinder and Neo land the airship inside of it, they both walk up the stairs, to see Salem sitting on her throne. This was Neo’s first time ever seeing Salem in person.

Cinder bows to Salem, addressing her as her queen, Salem gets up from her throne, turning around with a little smile on her face. Salem tells Cinder that when she chose her for the vessel for the Maidens, she had put her trust in her, saying that she trusts she wouldn’t return empty handed.

Cinder presents the relic of knowledge to Salem, saying that she herself took it, which made Neo upset, Tyrian arrives saying to Cinder that outsmarting Ironwood speaks less of her intellect and more to his, saying that she was outsmarted by the heroes first, Cinder responds by saying that Ironwood and his forces outsmarted him as well, also saying that it was a shame Arthur Watts didn’t return with Tyrian. 

Tyrian says that Watts a necessary sacrifice and hopes Neo doesn’t become another. Cinder tells Salem that Neo has very useful abilities and has proven to be a valuable asset, Salem says that Cinder really enjoys collecting them, which made Neo have second thoughts.

In new attire, Emerald and Mercury arrive, along with Hazel, Emerald runs to greet Cinder, but Cinder tells her to be quiet, stopping Emerald in tracks. Tyrian says while him and Watts were wreaking havoc in Atlas, Cinder was atoning for her past failures.

Cinder says that Penny stopped her from obtaining the Winter Maiden’s power, saying that now that she knows she has said power, it won’t take long before she finishes what she started and obtains the Winter Maiden’s power. However, Salem says that she gave Cinder no such commands.

Cinder tries to plea with Salem to reconsider, but Salem says that this “game” is not hers to win, it is Salem’s herself, she also says that just become she is of more value to her than a pawn, that doesn’t mean that she is a player, saying that everything is already set in motion, and that all that Cinder has to do is act when Salem tells her to.

“Of course.....without you....I am nothing...” - Cinder Fall With that, Salem waves her hands to everyone in the room, telling them to leave her presence, as she watches along as Atlas and Mantle are slowly about to be taken over. ------------------

Meanwhile, Oscar was in a poor looking village with a lot of homeless people and children in it after surviving the fall thanks to Ozpin, who returned in his mind, one offering him food in which he accepted and thanked the poor man for. The heroes arrive in the airship over the village, picking up Oscar.

Oscar says that he was stupid to think that Ironwood would listen to him, and every choice he made was wrong, Ruby says to Oscar that they all did what they thought was best and she’s glad that Oscar is safe. Just then, Joanna Greenleaf of the Happy Huntress waves her arms high to get the heroes’ attention to descend and get inside their base, in which they did.

Ruby, Weiss, Oscar, and  met up with Yang, Blake, Jaune, Nora and Ren, also with who were already there, Nora walks towards Oscar, but instead of an intense and big hug, it was a soft and embracing one, Weiss asks Oscar how did he end up in the slums, Oscar responds by saying it’s a long story, and he has the feeling there was a few of them from everyone else as well, Ozpin in Oscar’s mind asked if he was going to tell them what happened, but in his mind, Oscar replied by saying that him and Ozpin aren’t done talking yet.

Oscar then asked where was Qrow, but none of them knew, unaware that he was arrested along with Robyn Hill. Joanna arrives in the room asking the heroes are they ready to work, she tells them that a large Grimm horde is hovering over the tundra and the people of Mantle are suck with no heat and no military protection, and while the Happy Huntresses are happy to give the heroes a place to lay low for the time being, the time came to give the people of Mantle help. 

Ren asked how when Ironwood has stopped evacuations to Atlas, and with Salem’s forces surrounding them, they couldn’t get them out themselves, Joanna says that a crater beneath Atlas should suffice, even though it isn’t the safest route to go, she says the carter is warm that with all the people of Mantle in one place, they can do a better job protecting them. Joanna says that May Marigold can send the heroes where they are needed most, saying that they all have to get the people to the carter before nightfall, and that may have a chance in the slums.

“We’re never going to sleep again, I know it...” - Weiss Schnee “Either you’re helping, or you’re baggage...” - Joanna Greenleaf

While the plan was already being set in motion later on, Yang stands up and says to everyone that they have to go out and do what they can for Mantle, Ruby says that they need to do what they can for everyone, asking about Amity and telling the whole world about Salem and that they can’t do it all alone, needing help. Blake agrees saying that the Happy Huntresses are handling the evacuation better, saying there is a bigger picture.

Yang goes on the say that Amity isn’t complete yet, Ruby asks Pietro what would be needed to launch Amity, Pietro responds by saying that him and others made a progress with construction and fuel collection, which were all potentially manageable, however, it couldn’t be launch without clearance from Ironwood’s terminal, Yang tells Ruby that it’d be impossible for Ironwood to cooperate with them, Ruby says that he doesn’t have to and they just need the green light from his terminal, Yang questions Ruby about going back to the academy.

Pietro tells them at there are two terminals, one in Ironwood’s office and one in main Atlas Military Compound, in the base of the city, if they get in the compound in the operations room, which wasn’t certain, Oscar asks if this was the easy opinion.

Yang says that what Pietro is trying to say is that it can’t be done and it was pointless, telling Ruby that even if she were to somehow get the message out, there would be no guarantee help would come, Ruby snaps back at Yang and says it isn’t pointless, saying that Atlas is Salem’s current target, no longer being in hiding and once she’s done with Atlas, she’ll move on to the rest of Remnant, saying that they need to warn them.

Yang sighs and says to Ruby that when they arrived to Atlas, everyone said she would follow her lead, but things haven’t worked out, by everyone’s expression, deep down the feeling was mutual. Ren walks to the Ruby and says that there are people who need them now, which was something they could actually do, Ren decided to go with Yang later on, while Nora went with Ruby. Nora tells Ren that this isn’t about just Atlas, but about all of Remnant, agreeing with Ruby about warning the world of what’s coming, so they can prepare.

Jaune intervenes and says that they all can do both get Amity up and running and warn Mantle, Ruby then says that Salem has gotten this far by dividing them and that they have to stick together, Oscar disagrees and says what Salem really wants is to turn them against each other and that they can work separately and still be united. 

Penny suggests that she could give the relic to Salem and hopefully call off her attack on the kingdom, Oscar says that they couldn’t trust Salem to actually do that and the moment she obtains the relic of creation, Atlas falls under Mantle. Yang says that no one is turning Penny in to anyone, that’s the one thing they can all agree on.

Ruby asks Pietro if he could helps to the terminal, but Penny intervenes and says, with the maiden flare in eyes that she’ll go with them instead, Before Yang walked out, Pietro toss a set of keys to the pharmacy to Yang, with a set of new tools inside of it. Nora tells Ren that she’s going with Ruby, Ren asked what about Mantle and Nora replied by saying she is saving Mantle, because she actually believes that she can do this.

So the teams are now set, one is Yang, Jaune, Ren and Oscar, the other is Ruby, Weiss, Blake and Nora. Blake tells Ruby that they still united, even if their separated. Maria says through Weiss’ communication com that she can fly in the airship and take Pietro to Amity to prepare, but she doesn’t know how we’re getting Ruby’s team to Atlas, however, Weiss had a idea for how they could, before she could tell her what it is, everyone got a call on their scrolls from Ironwood himself.

Penny answers the call and Ironwood says hello, he says that he’ll come pick Penny up right away if she tells him where she is, and that Atlas need her. Ruby was the one who responded to him and says that Penny isn’t going anywhere until he changes his mind about Mantle and there is still a chance for all of Remnant.

“Mantle...? You’re still worried about Mantle? Remnant is doomed, Ruby! Unless we leave, Salem will destroy Mantle and with it, any hope humanity has left. We need to think about that future...if she makes it through the defenses...everything that falls will be on your hands...” - James Ironwood

As Penny felt scared, Ruby embraced her with a hug.

Meanwhile, four of the Ace Operatives, Marrow Amin, Vine Zeki, Elm Ederne and Harriet Bree mourned the lost of their leader, Clover Ebi, who was killed by Tyrian, while Ironwood, with a new robotic arm was with Winter Schnee, who was in a hospital bed, bandaged up after her fight with Cinder. 

An atlas guard notifies Ironwood that the prisoners had arrived, being Qrow and Robyn, Ironwood asks the doctors the give him and Winter the room, Winter says that she’ll be fine, but she could barely move her left arm and had a cast on the right. Ironwood then thanked Winter and that he wouldn’t know what to do without her, he says to her that no one has ever seen a Grimm force before, saying the city’s hard light shields will hold, but not for long.

Winter asked Ironwood what he would do, suddenly, Councilman Sleet and Councilwoman Camilla arrive, demanding answers from Ironwood as to what he was doing and why did he declared Martial Law, Ironwood answers Winter’s question by saying.... “I’m going to do everything I can defend this kingdom....no matter the cost....” - James Ironwood

Solidifying this vow, Ironwood walked out of the room, pulled out his gun and shot Councilman Sleet, possibly killing him, Camilla was shocked and afraid to even say a word afterwards, and all Winter could do was watch as Harriett looked back at her.

Meanwhile, Salem said to Jinn inside the relic that she had a question for her, she held the relic up to a Grimm to get the scent of Oscar, wanting it to bring him to her, so he could show her how to use the relic. ---------

With division and desperation all coming together in this chapter, what else can and will possible happened?

Will this volume be the heroes’ chance to united the world of Remnant or will this be repeat of Volume 3 filled with death and despair? Only time will tell.

[doctorguilty]

Seeking roommate + donations for a homeless trans woman

Hello! My name’s Guilty and I’m assisting my good friend @medb-maeve, who is and 18 year old trans woman in need of a new living situation very soon and the funds to start her off somewhere. Earlier this year, Medb fled her abusive, transphobic family with few belongings to move in with a person out of state who was going to take her in. Unfortunately, that living situation became unsustainable for many reasons, and she had to abruptly leave, and for a while live in a hotel. In the midst of that, she had received donations via tumblr that were going to help her, but nearly every last bit of it ended up stolen from her, and she now has almost no money to her name. 

She’s been legally homeless for over a month, and her situation now is that she’s been staying with some folks but is starting to be more and more pressed for time to leave and find somewhere else to go. She can move virtually anywhere in the US, and transportation is promised to her, but she desperately needs a roommate. We have ~one month to find her a new place to live. 

If you are interested in taking Medb as a roommate, please DM me on tumblr or contact me at sethangelusart@gmail.com 

In addition to that, I’m hoping to get her cushioned with some funds for ~1 month’s worth of rent (assuming it’d be split with 1 or more roommates) and perhaps a little more for food and whatever else may come up. Within that time she’ll be hopefully paid for, she will be finding herself a job and be supporting herself. 

Our goal is $1000 USD, or as close as we can get to it. She does not currently have her own bank account or credit/debit cards, so I will be handling her money and getting it to her in whatever form is most convenient. I could in fact, write a check for her rent to whomever ends up being her roommate, whatever ends up working until we can get her set up with her own bank account. All of it will be going to her; I will not be keeping a penny of it. 

Please send donations to ⭐ https://www.paypal.me/doctorguilty ⭐

If you have any questions feel free to DM me or @medb-maeve 

Signal boosts appreciated!

--- 

Goal Progress: 0/1000 Roommate Found: No

[socialwriter]

Ch.1- Welcome to the Moulin Rouge

Listen alongside: This and this

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Female Reader

1.5 K words

TW: Prostitution, cursing, insinuations of criminal activity

A/n: This is chapter one of my Moulin Rouge series, I hope you enjoy! This is mainly to set up the coming chapters, so it will get better!

Our story begins in Paris, at the turn of the 20th century…

 It's a crisp night, and all the patrons rush into the Moulin Rouge to escape the weather, the anticipation of what the night may hold causing a jump in their step. They would get a show complete with singing, dancing, and the fulfillment of their wildest, lust-filled fantasies. Liquor flows freely from bottle to cup, the intoxication of the guests no doubt a ploy so that all frugality may be forgotten while in the establishment. They were destined to see the performances of many, but it was unspoken common knowledge that they all came for one person. Her…

 As the lights dimmed and latecomers scrambled to their seats, Topper Thorton, the owner and MC of the establishment, made his way onstage. He had built the business from the ground up, a way to provide housing and an income for many girls with no other option, living on the streets. He had begged, borrowed, and stolen, and was willing to do anything to keep the establishment open. It may not seem like it on a surface level, but Topper deeply cared for the girls, and in fact, what he did to keep the business running, he was really doing for them. Without the Moulin Rouge, most of his performers would be left homeless and hungry, a fate that Thorton would not accept, no matter what it cost him. He was hopeful that with the plan he had enacted involving his right-hand woman and best performer, he might save the place from going under. 

 "Hello, chickens!Yes! It's me your own beloved Topper Thornton in the flesh! Welcome...To the Moulin Rouge!" He exclaimed, earning polite applause from the night's audience. 

 "Now, are you ready for our dazzling opening duo… Sarah and Kiara!"

  The curtains were pulled back, revealing the two girls clad in red corsets and black fishnets. Thornton had learned his tricks throughout the years. Put your top performers first to initially  pull the audience in, and leave the best for last so that the audience stays engaged throughout the show. Sarah and Kiara were some of his best, ruthless in their pursuit of position as the best performer of all the girls of the Moulin Rouge. They used all the tricks in the book. Their voices. Their dance moves. Their bodies. Never had they had a dissatisfied customer. They made Topper proud, never doing any wrong. Yet they could never be at the top of the pecking order. That spot was reserved for one person and one person only. 

 The Moulin Rouge was a prime example of the economic divide, with both the rich and the poor flocking there to spend whatever money they could on a fun night. The rich aristocrats with their pristine suits and crisp white shirts sat in booths, sheltered off from who they deemed the lowlife Bohemians. These lowlife Bohemians, while clad in their best attire, looked unkempt compared to the rich. Their pants donned holes and stains, while their jackets frayed at the edges. And as Topper's top priority for his business was money, he made sure that the aristocrats received the best services, copious drinks, and the best seats for entertainment, while the Bohemians were left with the scraps.

 The wealthiest and most pompous of all the aristocrats had to be Rafe Cameron, the Duke of Monroth, sat in the centermost booth. All the performers were instructed to visit him and his posse most often, as he always paid with the biggest bills. Rafe Cameron was to be used as a cash cow, milked for every penny he would give, all in an effort to save the Moulin Rouge. He was, at best, an asshole to those he disliked and at worst..well at worst, he wasn't able to be called a name at all. 

 The two Bohemians that had been a thorn in Thornton's side the entirety of his time at the Moulin Rouge were no doubt John B Routledge and Pope Heyward. The two of them always snuck in, never paying, distracting from the performances, and mooching off the wealthy for free booze. They were bad for business, but like cockroaches, they never could be exterminated, and they now had added a third member to their band of misfits: JJ Maybank.

----

 JJ ventured through the streets of Paris that afternoon, absorbing all the new city's sights. The blond was fresh off a boat from America, and he had moved to France, hoping to share his music with the world. However, his quiet walk around the city was interrupted by the bickering of two men a little ways away. They were loudly arguing and flailing their arms, but the second JJ heard them aggressively singing tunes at each other, his interest was piqued, and he approached the two men. "I'm sorry, but what exactly is going on?"

 The dark-skinned man stood up, placing his hand on JJ's shoulder, much to JJ's surprise. He had just met the men, but he had been told that the people in France were often more affectionate than those in America. "We can't decide what sounds better for our show. I think that the line should go 'the hills are alive, with the sound of clanging.'" The man with his hand on JJ's shoulder explained, to which the brown-haired man stood up, shaking his head.

 "No, it should go 'the hills are alive, with the bells and chimes."

 "See, that just sounds wrong."

 "If I'm wrong, then you're really wrong."

 JJ furrowed his brow, glancing between the two bickering men. He didn't need his musical abilities to tell you that neither option sounded good. "Um, actually, what if you went with 'the hills are alive, with the sound of music'?" He sang out, looking at the two men who both had a look of shock on their faces, mouths slightly ajar.

 "That's...genius!" The brown-haired man exclaimed, looking at his friend, both grinning. "You must work with us on our show, it's going to be the big-ticket item that gets us out of this hell hole. So, what's your name, friend?"

 He hadn't really noticed it before, but it appeared that JJ had stepped into the poorer part of the city, which was presumably where the two men lived. The paint on the walls was chipped and faded and the only bench on the entire street were the two crates that the men were sitting on earlier. It seemed like these two men just wanted to make it big and create a better life for themselves, something JJ had always hoped for. And if he got to share his music with the world while he did it..well he was sold. "JJ. My name's JJ Maybank." He said, shaking the hands of both men.

 The more affectionate man grinned, patting JJ on the back. "Well I'm Pope Heyward, and he's John B. And Mr.Maybank, we may need to use you for more than your musical talents." Pope uttered seriously, looking JJ directly in the eye. "I,um-what?"

 "You see, the Moulin Rouge is the most well known theatre in all of Paris. You get your show in there, and you're guaranteed success." John B explained to the blue eyed boy. "The problem is, our reputation," he gestured to himself and Pope, "precedes us at that place. We need a new face like yours to get our show even considered by the big dogs. We're gonna need you to talk to the it girl of the club. Thornton will do anything she wants, so you convince her, we're in. Can you do that for us JJ?" 

 Both Pope and John B looked at JJ hopefully, and JJ didn't have the heart to tell them no. Despite only knowing them for a short time, JJ had the feeling that he would grow very close to them, forging a bond of brothers. "Okay, I'll do it."

---

 The trio of Bohemians had snuck into the Moulin Rouge after the show had begun, the dark lights making it difficult to see exactly who was sneaking into the building. "All right, one of the middle booths is open." Pope whispered to the other two boys, to which John B excitedly quickened his pace to snag the seats. JJ didn't see the big deal, it was just a set for crying out loud. 

 When the three were situated, John B leaned over to JJ, filling him in on the ways of the Moulin Rouge. "You don't know it, but we just snagged the best seats in the house. This is where all the girls give their attention to, making your 'mission' that much easier." John B clarified, causing JJ to form an 'o' with his mouth. 

 "She'll be on any minute, JJ, get ready," Pope murmured, the energy at the booth going from joking and fun to serious. These boys had a mission, and JJ didn't want to let his new friends down. But nothing could have prepared him for what he was in store for.

 "Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present to you our "Sparkling Diamond" The unique, the indomitable, the one and only! Y/n." 

 The curtain rose, and JJ's mouth instantly went dry when the most beautiful woman he had ever seen walked onstage. Immediately, butterflies erupted in his chest. He realized that this mission of his was going to be much harder than he had initially anticipated. 

 Tags-

@normatural​ @thelonewolfdies​ @bricksatanakinswindow​ @ssjiara​

ppl who expressed interest (I’m only tagging u for this chap dw)- @heliopvth​ @girlsru1eboysdroo1​ @spilledtee​ @obxmxybxnk​ @denimandcurls​ @pogue-writings​ @adoreyoudrews​ @stargazingstarkey​ @queenk00k​ @tomfreakinghollandneedsaoscar​ @downbytheouterbanks​ @summerintheobx​ @shawnssongs​ @lefthandwritings​

[fluffycuddlyjin]

SUICIDE, SELF HARM, DEPRESSION, DYSPHORIA, AND HOMELESSNESS TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️

Hello, it’s Jin. I never wanted to ever ask anything like this on tumblr but it’s come to that point in my life right now.

I know everyone is going through something right now and I’m sorry to bother you with my problems but i just really don’t know what to do right now. I’m depressed because I relapsed last night and I’ve been thinking really harmful thoughts lately and I really don’t know what to do. I’m sorry.

My family has been having financial problems (like we always are). I’ve been trying really hard to just finish school because it’s my last year and get good grades so I can go to college and not be financially unstable. But recently my old hand me down laptop broke and I can’t afford a new one. I can’t even have a job because my family pays the bills (or what they can of the bills) with the disability check I receive for autism. I don’t know what to do. My grades are going down and I don’t want to fail. I’d rather die then fail senior year and become a homeless person on the streets again. I’ve thought of ki**ing my self. But I don’t think that would make my mother happy. It would make me happy though. I don’t know what to do. This is kinda my last hope. I’ve tried everything, even sex work to some extent. But I didn’t go though because I’m scared and dysphoria sucks. You can literally skip this if you want to. I’m just asking if you can give me either a penny or a dollar. It doesn’t matter how much. Money adds up. I just need help right now. If you don’t have money then please give me kind words. I’m very distressed at the moment and don’t know what I’m gonna do. Maybe nice words will help me. Thank you so much.

(I have a dry cash app. It’s never been used before. I don’t have anything else but cash app. $Usakari is the username thing).

[r-ate-9]

Three Can Keep a Secret (if two of them are dead) - Ch. 2

Fandom: Detroit: Become Human Chapter 2 of 2 Characters: Connor, Cole, minor-OC's Warnings: Ref-rape (non-explicit), Drug abuse, homelessness. Summary: During a home-invasion gone wrong, Connor tries to protect his brothers using the gun his father keeps locked away. Disaster strikes and Connor runs away... Read on AO3 | Fanfiction.net

“Missing Person!” The signs yelled at Connor as he walked through the streets. “Inform local Police if you see him!” They pled. The face stared imploringly at Connor – he turned away. Not his problem, he had stopped drugs ages ago, what happened in that realm was not his concern, dammit.

Hey Connor, the boy said slipping him a baggy, see you later. A crooked smile tinged in sadness. A cracked interior so like Connor’s own.

“Missing Person!” Another sign blared in Connor’s ears, begged for help. “Please call with information!”

Thanks, champ. The boy took a drag of the cigarette and closed his eyes.

“Anytime.” Connor whispered to the poster; eyes locked with the face pictured. The boy was less broken here, a sparkle glittered his eyes, cheeks flushed from laughter or cold or pure joy – Connor liked to think all three.

He imagined.

A day in the snow, with forts towering high and laughter dancing on the breeze.

Three boys darting from cover to cover, no sides chosen, a free-for-all.

Calling each other’s names and bursting with happiness.

Going inside with cheeks nipped by frost and chattering to their parents a million thoughts.

Hot cocoa and marshmallows.

Yes. Connor liked to think the boy was happy in this picture. His inside warm and full of cocoa and happy thoughts.

“Please call!” The writing begged; numbers listed with points of contact. The name and description of the boy, his age.

Thanks, champ. The boy whispered, words tinged in sadness but eyes soft and open.

“Okay.” Connor said. He rubbed his arms. “Okay, Cole.”

⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗

Connor returned to the alley he first met Cole. He didn’t think to find much, but he knew more than the cops did. Cole sold here; Cole spent enough time here to leave his imprint. Connor could see it in the cracks of the walls, could smell it in the air.

There was no trash here. There were no roaches to scitter underfoot, or startling stains in jagged shadows. Cole was soft and new and broken. But Cole was not of Connor’s kind. They – Greg and Dan and Connor – hadn’t thought he would last, too naïve for their world.

Dan. Connor needed to find Dan. He knew he’d gone underground since Greg overdosed after rehab. But Dan was a rat and he left a trail – Connor could find him. Then from there, Connor didn’t know, but he had to keep going.

Don’t stop running. Why why whywhy Connor why did you run? Hands clutched his coat tight.

He had to keep going. Connor didn’t look down.

⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗

Dan was easy to spot in the room. Connor knew how to find him.

In a hole-in-the-wall bar in the dirtier streets of Detroit, Connor found his old druggie buddy snorting a line off the counter. Dan looked about the same as he had three years ago. More wraithlike. His eyes were hollowed out and glassy. His bones were brittle and nearly pierced his paper-y skin.

Connor slid onto the stool beside him and gestured for a drink. He rested his chin on his fist and studied the next line Dan was setting up. “Got a light?” He asked.

Dan wobbled and turned to face him. He squinted his eyes. “Connor? Yeah, man that is you!” He slapped Connor on the shoulder. “Fuck. It’s been a fucking hot minute, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah man. How’s dealin’ going for you?” Connor replied, thinking back to what he last remembered had changed.

“Fucking-a.” Dan replied. He crouched over the counter and inhaled. “Business is booming right now. ‘pparantly the last exam at the college wiped its ass with half the student body. They’re fucking lining up right now for a hit.”

“Good. Good.” Connor couldn’t hold Dan’s self-destructive against him. He’d been there right alongside him, after all. It was almost surreal, catching up like this. If he really focused on the drugs and let himself linger, he could imagine Greg was seated in the chair beside Dan, cursing about tests. He could ignore the flicker by the lamps and the why why Connor why that followed him everywhere.

“So, what’s got you hanging out with me, anyway, man?” Dan asked, rolling his shoulders and sighing at a satisfying crick. “I’d be happy to give you a freebie, but you’re free and I’ve seen you out there in the workforce.”

“Yeah. No.” Connor smiled sadly at Dan. “If I wasn’t worried ‘bout completely fucking myself in the ass again, I’d take you up on that. Nah.” He continued, thinking of soft brown eyes and a cracked smile. “You remember Cole?”

“The kid with the cheap shit? Yeah, I heard he up and vanished. What about him?”

Connor picked at his fingernails, wincing at the feeling of stickiness. “I- I saw something.”

Dan placed his hand on Connor’s, halted his nervousness and forced their eyes to meet. “Fuck Connor. What?”

“I saw-” He thought, eyes wound shut.

Glass shattering. The bags falling and groceries scattering across the sidewalk. A figure passing the stoop, pushing another along “Keep your head down and keep walking.”

“N-no!” A cracked whimper.

Groceries spilled and liquid leaking across the pavement.

Red seeping into cracks.

Sticky hands and sticky fingers.

“Do what I say.” Dark, cold steel; hands raising high and clutching

sticky hair and sticky hands and burning knees from

“O-okay-y. I-I will j-just don’t…” A wet smack. A gasp for air. A moan.

“I saw his kidnapping. I saw him get- he got- fuck Dan.” Connor buried his sticky hands and sticky fingers hands in his hair and tugged. “I saw.”

“Okay. Okay. Shit.” Dan rubbed Connor’s arms. “Okay, fucking obviously, you can’t go to the cops. But he was just a kid and we’re just kids, Con.”

“Yes.” Connor agreed. “But he wasn’t one of ours. He was- he was alone Dan. I saw him, Dan. I saw. I can’t go to the cops, but I know what happened.”

“Yeah Con, you and your fucking bleeding heart.” Dan smacked the table, gestured for another round. “Okay man. I know what you’re gonna say – we gotta find the brat. He sold good shit, kept us out of the ditches for months until I figured out the business. He fucking saved our asses. You resold his shit and got yourself out of this fucking hole. Yeah, we fucking owe him.” Dan shoved Connor’s glass before him and downed his own. “Drink the liquid courage. Wish you’d snort the line, but I know you better. We’ve gotta go deep to find him.”

Connor raked his nails through his hair and relaxed his posture. He downed both the glass he’d ordered, and the one Dan got him. “Okay, Dan. I was hoping you’d help.”

“Yeah. Cheers, man.”

⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗

Looking for Cole was hard, to say the least. With enough cash, Connor knew he could find just about anything talking to the right people. But Connor was low on money. He was always low on money. A few months ago, he’d scraped enough together to buy a new blanket and backpack. He paid for a postal box every month, so his job had somewhere to write in as a place of residence. Aside from that, Connor needed to eat.

But Connor couldn’t ignore Cole. He didn’t know jack shit about his old dealer other than his dad was a cop and he’d lasted longer in the business than anyone would have guessed.

Dan had cash, not that Connor was going to spend his friend’s money on this expedition. Just having Dan’s support and open ears was enough.

So, Connor couldn’t grease mouths with cash. He had another option; one he didn’t like to think about. It was an option, but it could wait. Connor could snoop first.

Connor knew what the men who- who stole Cole looked like. He couldn’t go to the cops, like Dan said fucking obviously. But word on the street was that Markus Manfred, son of the famous Carl Manfred, liked to hang out at the Caribou Coffee Shop with his little gang of friends. And if Connor could pay him to do a small sketch then he could ask others about those two thugs.

Connor stood outside the Caribou Coffee, a pricey hipster coffee shop if there ever was one. But it was bright, warm lights danced inside. Connor couldn’t see any shadows and for a second, he thought maybe he would come back. But then he saw the coffee prices and laughed. Never mind.

Besides, the sticky hands and sticky fingers tugging him pushing him flickers were inside his mind. He’d never escape.

Connor clutched his bag and scooted to the counter, ordered a small coffee and camped out by the window. He hoped he could just ask and pay and run away.

He tapped his fingers along the mug and pulled out a small notebook and looked over the list of Cole, as he waited.

An hour later, Connor ordered another coffee and cringed at the cost. He needed every penny for the sketch, not his cover. As he was dropping the old mug back on the counter, he turned and saw Markus, exactly as the google images Connor had found at the library showed him. Finally.

He waited until Markus settled in a booth, not too far from Connor’s own. Then, hesitatingly, Connor settled in the seat across from Markus. “Hello.” He said quietly. “I’m Connor, mind if I sit here?”

Markus glanced up from his phone and nodded, smile confused. “Yeah, sure. Can I help you?”

“I- yeah. Yes, please.” Connor placed the mug down. “I know who you are.” Markus’ smile soured slightly, a tinge of falseness coming out. “I need a sketch and I don’t know anyone who might be able to draw someone from descriptors only. I- I’m no artist.” Connor laughed bitterly.

The other glanced at the phone, typed something quickly and placed it face-up on the table. “Look, Connor was it?” Connor nodded. “I’m not in the business for random jobs right now. If you want something sketched, you can go to my website and enter the contest and maybe you’ll win.” He raised his hands. “Who knows?”

Connor couldn’t run away run away run run run Connor run just give up. “No.” He said. Frowning. “I’m sorry but I really need this, and I don’t care if you’re some amazing artist I just need a person’s face sketched and I’ll pay you and get out of your hair, okay?” He wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Connor scrabbled through his backpack and pulled out his lockbox. All his money was inside. He bit his lip and stared fixedly at the box. When he looked up, he saw Markus’ lips twisted crookedly and was holding the phone in the middle of a message. “Here.” He opened the box and pulled out half he owned. “I’ll give this to you. All of it. Just help me. Please.”

Markus put his phone down again, this time the screen was down. “Okay. Connor?” He pulled out a scrap of paper. “Tell me about this person.”

Connor did.

⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗

Connor settled beside Dan at the bar and pulled out the drawing. Together they looked down.

“Shit.” Dan whistled. “You found yourself a fucking tough guy. You sure you want to go after him?” Connor nodded. “Alrighty. Fucking-A.” Dan bought them each a shot. “Liquid courage.”

They tapped glasses and drank.

Fucking-A indeed.

⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗

With Dan’s contacts and the remains of Connor’s belongings, Connor bought a drug.

⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗

Connor snuck into the house. Dan had opted out of this, saying he couldn’t get mixed up in another dealer’s shit. That was okay, Connor understood. Dan interfering would be starting a turf war and as much as their friendship was absolute shit, the last Connor wanted was Dan’s ghost haunting his dreams too.

Connor didn’t need to survive this. Cole did.

⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗

Inside, Connor could hear a cacophony of noise, shouts of laughter and varied music. The air was foggy and hard to see through – only an ex-druggy could navigate through the blurred lighting and flashing sounds. The atmosphere was to increase user’s enjoyment of their drug-of-choice. Connor had visited a few houses like this himself. There’d be guards, bright-eyed and hidden beneath the smoke, ready to throw out trouble-makers or scatter at the sign of cops. There’d be users dancing and thrashing and passing out. There’d be others, testing the waters and seeing who were ripe for taking. Connor needed to pretend he was. Connor needed to be taken to Cole and then they could run run run Connor run leave together.

Connor didn’t want to snort. So, Connor had brought a date-drug and slipped a little into his own drink. Enough to get loose and floppy and easy. Connor sipped and relaxed and waited.

He giggled at the lights and the dancing shadows and why why why Connor why he cried at his brothers hiding in the shadows. Their eyes so sad so lonely Connor why why why Connor.

Gentle hands lifted him up and carried him away and Connor cried no no that’s my brother don’t take my brother Caleb no no no you killed my brother.

Connor cracked his eyes open to a sad smile and cracked eyes. Cole.

Cole.

Connor rolled over and pushed himself up. Carpet ­burns burns all down his arms scraped against his palms. “Cole!” He whispered and stared in wonder at the boy, alive before him.

Thanks, champ.

“You too, huh?” Cole whispered back. Soft brown eyes. A cracked interior so familiar and oh so broken.

“For you.” Connor smiled back, broken. “For you, Cole, for you.

Cole’s brow furrowed. “What?”

Connor glanced around. They were in a back room; he knew the type. He’d wandered back into them before during a drug-induced haze with Greg. The windows were barred outside, but the metal would be rusted and easy to escape through. It was daytime, the dealers were out and the others, the traffickers, would be planning another party for pickings. “I’m taking you home, Cole.”

Cole frowned. “Why?” He pulled his hands to his chest and rocked back on his heels. “I- I’m- I was just your dealer, Connor. I’m nothing. I’m just- alone.” Broken glass fell from his teeth and tinkled on the ground. Jagged shadows threatened his eyes and Connor wondered.

A cracked interior so familiar. Broken words, cracked smiles and shattered glass.

Crying crying boys with sticky fingers and sticky hands why why Connor why?

Connor running running always running.

“I’m taking you home – you have a home and a family, and they miss you, Cole. I don’t- I don’t know who they are but everywhere I walked.” Connor sighed raggedly. “You’re everywhere, Cole. I don’t have a– You need to go home.” He smiled, teeth jagged and sharp and eyebrows just a little too high. Smiling was wrong for him. Connor didn’t smile.

“Okay.” Cole said. He took Connor’s hand. “Okay Connor.”

⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗

Connor wrapped Cole in the blanket, trying to collect all the shattered pieces together. He tried to tuck Cole back together again. He- it was his blanket. His blanket so new and so old and so full of skewed memories.

Connor tucked Cole together and took him to his little bridge and together they huddled close and hid. Connor didn’t want to say goodbye. Connor wanted a friend, just for tonight. Just tonight before he said goodbye and Cole went home and Connor went.

Cole shuddered and shivered and whimpered and cried.

Connor held him and stared down his shadows and said no no no not tonight go away go away.

Connor leaned against the brick wall and watched Cole approach the police station “Dad works here.” He said. “He’s going to be so mad.”

“He’s going to love you and hug you and be so happy.” Connor replied.

Cole turned, raised one hand to Connor, and stepped into the station. Connor sighed.

Sticky hands and sticky fingers clutching tight holding tight, Connor Connor Connor. The wind sighed, pulled him away. Run away run run runaway Connor.

Connor didn’t want to run.

Not anymore.

⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗

Connor settled under his bridge and shivered. He had no money for food, he’d spent the last bit on Cole and Cole and Cole.

Cole Cole Cole Cole

Connor’s toes were numb, and his stomach ached, and he wondered.

He hadn’t shown for work and they’d said no don’t come back where were you to go.

Dan was not answering. Shadows flickered and hey man, how’s life hands clutched him tight.

Connor didn’t want to wonder anymore. Connor wanted to sleep.

Sticky hands and sticky fingers and running running – no that’s my brother don’t kill my brother why why why connor why did you hurt my brother no no Niles! No Caleb no stop don’t hurt my brothers no no no run Connor run run away you hurt them why why why Connor why did you hurt my brother-

Hot cocoa and smiles and marshmallows and little boys laughing.

Coughing and blood speckling snow and little hands holding hurting tummies and scared eyes saying no no Connor no look out Connor don’t no that’s my brother don’t hurt my brother

And Caleb looking behind Connor saying stop stop why did you hurt my brother no Connor are you okay Connor Connor Connor run away Connor run run run run

And Niles coughing and crying and Noah scared with wide eyes peeking from around the door seeing everything open-mouth

And Connor saying no no no Noah look away yelling at the man distracting him look at me look at me look at me running running

Chase me chase me hurt me I hurt you I shot you hurt me not them

Distracting distracting them and the babysitter was there – the babysitter called police and and and

Connor stilled.

Connor slept.

⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗⌗

Cozy blankets and warm cocoa and four little boys playing in the snow with laughter and shouts of joy and happy parents with cocoa and happy smiles and laughter and snow and laughter.

Chapter 1

[hecohansen31]

because i really fricking miss, love and cherish sojourn! michael can i please request a vvvvvvv soft fluffy moment between reader and him where she’s the one to take him home after church and just like ,,,,,,, takes care of him and washes his hair for him and helps him with any bruises and cuts and they end up just ordering food and watching some random movie whilst she consoles him 🥺🥺🥺🥺 i really am a sucker for fluff

(A/N): Hello there, sweetie!

Ahhh I honestly feel like on my blog I don’t celebrate that much Sojourn! Michael, but I honestly love and cherish him, because he is a cutie patootie, with a feral hunger I long to satisfy!

I hope you’ll like it and if you want me to change anything, please let me know!

Have a nice day!

WARNINGS; Mention of Previous Trauma, Satanism and Bringing Home a Stranger.

You didn’t go at the Satanist Church, anymore, because you believed in it, but more because it was some kind of social occurrence which had become a ritual to you.

You knew half of the people there and knew that half of them were exactly like you: standing there as unbelievers, but unable to move away and search something better to do on those nights.

And because most of the people knew each other, you were able to spot a new person, next to Madeline as you entered in the church: he was a gorgeous boy of probably your age, if not slightly younger, with the most gorgeous curls you had ever seen, although they were covered in dirt as his whole body.

Moved by curiousness, you sat by him, gently smiling to Madeline, meanwhile you pushed a few dollars in the offering bucket, looking at the embarrassed boy and quickly suggesting to Madeline that a fellow Satanist was in need of help, freeing the boy of the old woman’s presence scooting lightly closer.

“Hey” he was lightly startled, and you tried to approach him carefully “… couldn’t help but notice that you are new, I am (Y/N)”.

You offered your hand as a way to test the waters and the stranger looked at it with a mixture of worry and uneasiness, as if he had come back from a long trip just to find that everything had changed, alongside his entire aspect showing he had gone through quite the trauma.

“… Michael” he didn’t accept your hand, but looked at you in the eyes, gripping his hand on his knees and you nodded.

“Is everything alright, Michael?” you asked, trying not to seem noisy, but you were definitely worried “… people don’t wander here, usually, without a specific reason”.

“Let’s just say that I am lost” he mumbled, his stare unfocused in front of him and you were even more worried.

“Everyone is lost, in this life, sadly we aren’t given an instruction manual” you explained softly and dared to reach out to grab one of his hands, managing to shift his attention to you, meanwhile you smiled softly “… it’s why life is such a beautiful trauma”.

Michael smirked sadly and looked at your joined hands, before he swiftly and surprisingly shot his eyes to meet yours and you were left dumbfounded by the intensity of his gorgeous eyes.

“And what made you wander here, (Y/N)?” he mumbled, his tone requesting only the truth and you were unable to deny it, blushing lightly and lowering your head.

“… my family has always believed in all this, I grow up to recognize this as something normal, but, between us…” you lowered your voice, and pushed yourself slightly closer to Michael, him slightly inching also closer, some part of him striving for human contact “… I am not really a believer, I haven’t sold my soul and neither I think about doing it”.

“Smart move” mumbled Michael, meanwhile his eyes shifted unfocused onto the altar, definitely trying to follow the ritual, but with no true interest “… Satan doesn’t give a fuck about us”.

“Neither does God” you replied, simply smirking sadly “… it is people that have to care for each other”.

You had always thought that, in the end, what mattered was what humans could create, on their own.

Hence why you chose to ask Michael if he needed a place to crash in.

He looked like a recently homeless person, maybe he had been thrown out of his house or maybe he had lost everything, but what was sure was that he needed somewhere to stay.

Michael shook his head lightly, again his eyes unfocused, and a slight shade of annoyance appearing in them, which changed in surprise as you proposed he actually came with you at your home.

“… you don’t have a place to stay and I have a comfortable bed and a shower, they might help you a bit, since the homeless rescues I know should be closed by now, sadly” you explained, meanwhile Michael looked at you definitely shook “… we could order pizza and watch a movie, you look like you might need a bit of comedy in your life”,

Michael looked at you, almost as if a miracle was happening in front of him, before a harsh expression appeared onto his face and he mumbled, annoyed:

“Why are you doing this?” he asked, confused, before he sat up to look at you in the eyes, searching desperately for something “… I am a complete stranger to you, and maybe a danger to you, you don’t know me!”.

“I’d like to think that if Destiny or Satan threw you at me, it is for a reason other than you being a danger to me…” and then you took a good look at his slim body “… and don’t take this as an insult, but… you look like you couldn’t even lift a penny from the ground, right now”.

“And how can I not know that you won’t take advantage of me?” this question broke your heart, because he seemed to speak from experience, not to talk about the frail shrill in his one “… all the people I have had around me did nothing more than take advantage of me”.

“… I know that swearing on something doesn’t matter much,,, but I swear I don’t want to do anything but help you, Michael”.

“It is difficult for me to believe that” he mumbled, and you were sure that you that he would have straight up refused, although it pained your heart to leave such an hurt soul “… but I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt, if you can add to that also some candies…”.

“Well then candy it is!”.

As soon as you arrived home you gave Michael some slippers you had stolen from a hotel not too long ago, which would fit him, and they were certainly more comfortable than the elegant but ruined shoes Michael wore.

Then you showed him the bathroom, explaining to him how the shower worked and where he could find some soap and other bathroom necessities, leaving him some privacy to him, as you moved away to collect some new clothes from your neighbor and tenant, Mrs. Roses, a noisy woman whose son had left her some clothes, before he went to college, for when he came back during the holidays.

She gave you quite the stare, as you moved away with a pile of clothes you hoped would fit Michael, but you simply justified that request as a ‘friend crashing in, since he had an appointment in the city, tomorrow’, a dashing and uncaring smile on your  face, meanwhile you blushed all the way back home, finding a shivering Michael wrapped loosely in a towel.

You immediately came to him, realizing that the old lady in the apartment over yours must have used all the hot water, and immediately gave Michael the fluffy clothes, warmed up by the atmosphere in your apartment.

“Oh, sweetheart, I am so so sorry! Mrs. Krystel must have washed her chihuahuas” you said, meanwhile he changed, hidden by the loosely closed door of the bathroom, his little shivers audible enough, and you were thankful that your apartment was always a bit too warm.

Thankfully dinner went better than the shower and not only the pizzas warmed up Michael a bit, but it was also an occasion to talk about some general stuff, Michael opening up a bit, explaining to you that he had lost a rather important person and his father had rejected him when he had searched for him.

Small tears escaped his eyes and you weren’t able to stop yourself from gently moving closer, with a tissue in your hand to help him collect himself, drying his tears and softly caressing his face, till his sobs quieted and he gently and loosely, hugged you, burying his face in your hair.

Although it was definitely strange and a bit unusual to hug a stranger, you weren’t able to deny him and gently cuddled him closer to your chest, softly kissing his forehead, as he clutched you closer, till you suggested to soothe his uneasiness with a bit of chocolate.

You then realized that he hadn’t been able to wash his hair and suggested you washed it for him.

“I am not going back in that shower!” he immediately shouted, as a cat scared of being given a bath.

You then proceeded to explain that he wouldn’t need to go back, and just filled a basin of hot water, making Michael immerge his hair into it, meanwhile he laid with his back to the table, a bit uncomfortable but he started basically purring as you began playing with his hair, combing them through your fingers and massaging his scalp with some hair lotion.

In the end he was putty enough in your hand, making you let out a laugh as he closed his eyes, halfway through sleeping, already.

“This is… rather enjoyable” he muttered as you smirked.

“I was sure you would feel like this… I honestly love when people play with my hair” you joked as you wrapped a towel around his hair to dry it, and as you waited you watched a movie, ‘The Holidays’ since you were feeling lightly Christmas-y and Michael giggled at the meeting between Graham and Amanda.

And meanwhile he was giggling, you heard him lightly moan in pain, something that made you turn lightly, looking at him worried, meanwhile he muttered a simply ‘everything is alright’.

But you didn’t trust him and gently touched his chest, feeling him take a deep hiss as your hand came down to a peculiar point, and Michael allowed you to raise his shirt so that you could examine it, a big bruise forming onto the right side of his lower torso, an horrible color, that made you almost wonder if the ribs under it hadn’t broken.

But Michael was adamant about not going to the hospital so the only thing you could offer him was a bit of comfort and ice, wrapped in a rag, which made him hiss, but you felt him relax, softly, even more as you again played with his damp hair.

You didn’t know what had made you take a stranger home.

Had it been his pretty eyes or the way he looked so desperate that you just felt like you had to cuddle him.

But you were glad you had, as you both fell asleep listening to each other’s breaths, on the couch.

It had been decidedly an amazing idea.

[miso-vicious]

RWBY Volume 7 Chapter 1 (Spoilers)

Welcome back, everyone. It’s been too long, and yet at the same time, it feels like only yesterday season 6 had ended. Now that season 7 has premiered, it has opened up a whole new world of excitement and problems for our favorite heroes. So let’s try and break down what has happened and what possibly lies in our future.

It should go without saying, but there are SPOILERS AHEAD.

Welcome To Atlas

After a whole season worth of traveling, our heroes have finally reached Atlas. While we did spend season 4 here, we only ever saw the Schnee manor. This is the first time we’ve seen Atlas in all of its glory. Only, it seems as though Atlas military has taken over the skies and grounds. Most likely due to James Ironwood’s increasing paranoia of Salem. Beacon has fallen, Haven almost fell, it stands to reason that Atlas is next on Salem’s list. Especially since Qrow forewarned him of their impending arrival. And bad luck follows this group like a dark shadow.

And it’s abundantly clear that if you aren’t lucky enough to be born into wealth, you are immediately put at the bottom of the food chain. More specifically, you live on the ground, at risk of crime and Grimm attacks. While the wealthy get to live on the tethered city in the clouds, free from land Grimm, but riddled with corruption.

This is a basic rough draft of the possible hierarchy of power in Atlas, but our information is limited. So don’t take this as fact. As you can see, Military is at the top of this pyramid. Below is Arms Makers and Scientists. This is an all encompassing of what makes Atlas one of the most powerful Kingdoms in the world due its technological and military innovations. Leaving the noble families, first and foremost the Schnee family, at bottom of this pyramid. Because while they bring in at least half of this Kingdom’s income with their Dust Company, the Ironwood had no problem cutting of trade going in and out of the Kingdom, thus cutting off the Kingdom’s and the Schnee Family’s income. But if I can say anything about that bastard Jacques Schnee, is that he isn’t going to let a military ban stop him from making his millions.

Next comes the white collar works, the blue collar workers, and finally, the bottom of the pyramid. It consists of the Dust Miners, Criminals, the Homeless, and the Faunus. Caroline Cordovin’s cold reception of Blake Belladonna in Argus is indication that Atlas is the worst place for a Faunus to be. But since most of the world is prejudice against Faunus, Atlas is a place for desperate Faunus to get work in the Dust Mines belonging to the Schnee Dust Company. Which we all know is dangerous, even life threatening, work, but no one seems to care as long as they keep getting their Dust for their war.

There Is No War In Atlas

In the opening sequence, we see a group of angry civilians yelling at one of Ironwoods propaganda messages. And when one of them throws a rock at the hologram, it glitches and reveals Jacques Schnee. This could imply that Ironwood’s paranoia has been spurred on by Jacques. If Salem were to kick down their door tomorrow, who would be the first to go? Everyone who is on the ground. Most of the military seems to be focused on protecting the main capital, where the Relic is most likely hidden. But there’s no protection for those less fortunate, and I’m sure Jacques wants it to stay that way. I guess it will be Qrow’s job to convince Ironwood that his hologram messages can’t protect these people from Salem’s flying monkeys. And now with two Relics and possibly the Winter Maiden all in the same Kingdom, Atlas is now the most dangerous place to be. With Cinder being unable to fully tap into her Fall Maiden powers (as well as her disappearance), and with Vacuo being a wasteland of sand and death, Ironwood knows that Salem’s next move will be towards Atlas.

And let’s not forget that Winter Schnee has also been drinking the kool-aid. So now the team feels less secure in calling Ironwood and Winter for aid.

And part of his paranoia, Ironwood has drones roaming the streets. They seemed to be keen on Yang’s prosthetic arm, and even took her picture. They’re most likely there to record and document any suspicious activity, people of interest, or dangerous weapons. This is a clear violation of civil liberties and right to privacy, all in the name of “protecting” the people. How would you feel if a drone took your picture because you looked “suspicious”?

And our team has a quick run in with what seems to be drunk upper crust Atlas employees, who are upset because everyone views them as the enemy. And they try to pick a fight with Blake due to her being a Faunus.

Follow The Green Light

Maria Calavera points their destination towards her Doctor’s office, the one she  originally intended to visit to fix her eyes. Dr. Pietro is apparently an Atlisian scientist who spends his spare time on the ground in his personal pharmacy, volunteering his time to help those in need. He even works along side Ironwood.

He points out the core of Ironwood’s paranoia: someone hacked into their security system, reprogrammed their military drone forces, took down their flag ships, and many people died due to this. Atlas has some of the best technological achievements, has the greatest developments in robotic based soldiers. And all of it meant nothing. Whomever hacked into their system was either a technological genius, or it was an inside job. Little do they know, it was one in the same.

It has already been established that Arthur Watts is a disgraced Atlisian scientist, as well as a doctor, and we’ve only seen glimpses into his technological feats. While the infiltration into Beacon was lead by Cinder, it’s become clear that Watts was most likely the brains behind the virus that brought down the Atlas military and the CCT tower. He also designed a new stinger for Tyrian Callow after his original one was cut off by Ruby Rose. He even created armor plating for the rest of his tail. It’s not clear what Watts’ angle is, aside from taking down the government that turned their back on him. It could be possible that Dr. Pietro might have had some run ins with Watts in the past. Some have theorized that Watts is Dr. Pietro’s son. But that might be stretching it. While season 5 focused on Cinder, Hazel, and Raven as the main villains, it seems that Watts and Tyrian will be taking the helm this time.

What’s more surprising is that he recognizes Yang’s prosthetic arm, and notes how she painted it yellow. And once Ruby stepped forward, he recognized the girls as Team RWBY.

Cut to a fight between our team and a bunch of tundra themed Grimm. Even after the grueling battle they experienced earlier that same day, they come out on top.

My Fancy Way Of Saying Hello

And we even get a beautiful reunion with our favorite Cybernetic Ginger and Ruby Rose.

We then learn that Dr. Pietro is Penny Polendina’s creator/father. He was able to retrieve her core from the wreckage of Amity Arena, and he rebuilt her. And she’s got a few new updates, including but not limited to a new hair cut, rocket legs, and laser beams. Perhaps he removed her metal cords/swords since it lead to her untimely death. It’s unclear if she is still the same Penny we remember, nor is it clear if she remembers exactly how she died. But this is the first time we’ve had one of our dead characters come back to life, so let’s try and enjoy it.

Here We Are Safe, Here We Are Free

And of course, the reunion is short lived. Penny makes a quick exit at the sound of alarms, leaving our team behind. They are arrested by A.C.E. OPs; most likely Ironwood’s personal secret police. Apparently their efforts to protect the city were illegal, since most of them aren’t actually licensed Huntsmen.

They confiscate our teams weapons, take the Relic from Ruby, and are being driven to places unknown.

Mirror Mirror, Who Can I Trust?

Now that concludes what happened in the episode, lets go into what may happen in the future. Namely, the future for the Schnee Family. Now that Weiss Schnee is back in her home Kingdom, she is bound to have a run in with her father and brother. The last she saw of them both was when her father revoked her place as heir to the Schnee Dust Company, right after hitting her. And Whitely Schnee, who played the part of her loving brother, revealed that this was the outcome he wanted all along. With Winter rejecting her place as the heir, and Weiss being removed, Whitely is now the sole heir of Schnee Dust Company. Weiss believes his betrayal is because he’s jealous of her and Winter, because he does not have the trademark Schnee semblance. Even though he claims it to be barbaric, it has to take a toll on him that Winter and Weiss are everything a Schnee should be (smart, powerful, elegant), and he is just... there. It takes more than just a head of snow white hair to make a Schnee, no matter how often Jacques must dye his own.

Even if Winter is pro military, she’s the only Schnee Weiss can trust right now. And it will be interesting to see how Jacques and Whitely have taken to Weiss disowning herself and becoming confident enough to stand up to both of them. Perhaps Whitely will finally see that fame, money, and their company mean nothing to Weiss, she would rather spend her time trying to save the world than kiss their father’s boots. Whitely coudln’t survive one day in the real world. And if he gets a real look at what Weiss has been fighting, maybe it will be all three of the Schnee children against Jacques. Some people believe that that Winter is the current Winter Maiden, hence her name. Which would explain why Ironwood keeps her at his side, since only a Maiden can access the Relics, and her powerful abilities. But I feel like it would be too obvious if it were her.

Atlas Operatives: ACE

It’s unclear if these ACE OPs will be a thorn in our team’s side throughout this season, or if they will be the support system they need. While RWBY, JNR, and Oscar try their best and have come a long way since the beginning, Qrow is the only trained Huntsmen on the team. It will be SO helpful if they had some actual Huntsmen on the team. But knowing our luck, at least one of them will either die or betray us.

Spa Day and Upgrades

RWBY and JNR are getting more than just haircuts and a new wardrobe. They’re also getting weapon upgrades. We probably won’t see them for a couple of episodes, but we got our first glimpse at Jaune’s upgrade in the opening sequence.

He’s like Steven Universe. Jaune’s first instinct isn’t to attack, it’s to deflect, assess his opponent, and protect the one’s he loves. So of course he shield got a big upgrade. Now he has what looks like the shield wall that protects Argus coming out of his own shield. Since all Jaune had to do in this fight sequence was deflect the Cyber Tooth Tiger Grimm with his new shield it for it to disintegrate, it's more than just a shield now. It will certainly give him a new edge when he combines his sword and shield in battle.

Protect Mantle

Who is she? We don’t know. We see her face plastered on posters all over the city that say “Protect Mantle”.

For those who don’t know, Mantle was once the capital of Solitas. The first large settlement made in this northern continent, due to the harsh conditions and the Grimm, it was a hard place to live. Until Atlas came to be, merging their military, governemnt, and school together, they took Mantle’s greatest minds and made one of them most powerful Kingdoms. And everyone in Mantle was left behind. “Mantle was old news- and the Kingdom of Atlas was born. A golden age of prosperity, they called it- but those left behind in Mantle would probably tell you it was the coldest winter they ever knew.” No one in Atlas cares about Mantle. Whoever this woman is, she seems to be the poster child for an uprising in Mantle.

We do see her fighting Tyrian along side Qrow, wielding a crossbow like weapon.

Due to a possible scarcity of Dust down in Mantle, she has to rely on actual bolts instead of Dust to load her weapon. And based on her fighting skills, she may have been a high Atlesian solider, maybe part of Ironwood’s inner circle, but when Ironwood turned his back on those in Mantle, she left to protect them.

On The First Day, The God of Light Created...

Finally, we have what they’re all here for. Through the power of photoshop, I’ve created an image of the Winter Maiden’s Relic: The Relic of Creation.

Of course, they would put Monty Oum’s credit in front of this Relic, since he is the creator of RWBY. And it makes sense that this would be the Relic that would be in Atlas. Atlas is known for it’s amazing innovations/creations. Perhaps, this Relic had certain influences over the Kingdom, giving them the power create things beyond imagination. Since the Relic of Knowledge isn’t a weapon at all, but a host to a being of infinite knowledge, we can only guess what lies in this Relic. Maybe if there’s another being resting in this Relic, they can help our team stop Salem. And since all that remains is Vale and Vacuo, I’ve theorized that the Relic of Choice is in Beacon (the most liberated Kingdom, who is accepting of all its citizens), and the Relic of Destruction is in Shade (the setting of the end of the Great War, and a dangerous tundra of sand).

Look Towards The Future

Here, we have our main team this season. This is the biggest group we’ve ever had. I’m looking forward to where this season will take us. If you made it to the end of my horrible rambling, I commend you. And if you have any additional information or theories to add, please tell me. I’m always interested in all things RWBY. See ya’ll next Saturday!!!

[rckyclrk]

alex turner. 27. cismale. he/him. the black keys | i can’t believe i just saw RICKY CLARK walking out of cadence records. they’re the VOCALIST / BASSIST from the PUNK group HEATSTROKE who have been in the industry for THREE YEARS. the tabloids love to focus on their COLDHEARTED nature , but they’re also pretty CHARISMATIC and they seem to give off a vibe that reminds people of FRIENDS HOLDING YOU BACK FROM BAR FIGHTS, CUNNING SMIRKS, CRYING FROM RAGE WHEN YOU’RE ALONE.

hello !!! i’m jess, i’m 22, reside in the bst timezone and use she/they pronouns !! i literally only found this rp like two hours before it opened for plotting so excuse me if this intro seems a bit rushed, and i apologize for how late it is. this is the first of my muses, king asshole ricky clark. he’s a damaged angsty boi and i hate / love him. please like this if you’d like to plot, or slide into my IMs! 

p.s. we can also plot on discord @ aries baby#7087 and you can check out a pinterest board for ricky here!

trigger warnings: heart disease, loss of a parent, ‘daddy issues’, abandonment, drugs & alcohol mentions, violence implication

BACKGROUND

ricky was born to dirt-poor parents in upstate new york. they had pretty much nothing but the basic necessities but it was v much a “they had each other and that was enough” kinda thing

his mother was his hero, ricky idolized her as she would do anything for him & was a kind, honest woman with a good heart who put every penny she earned into trying to give ricky a good life.

but his dad? quite the opposite. he was a distant, aggressive man with violent tendencies. whenever he was home, he was causing conflict. but most of the time, he wasn’t. it was pretty obvious that he was cheating on ricky’s mom, as well as just generally giving zero shits about his son. he was just an all-around asshole.

his mom was a waitress. she worked very few shifts as she wanted to make sure she could spend a lot of time around her son making sure he had a good upbringing.

when ricky was eleven, she suddenly fell ill with heart disease and her condition deteriorated very quickly. she could no longer work and decided to turn to music as a way of coping, learning to play guitar to keep her spirits up. ricky always took an interest in this and loved listening to her play him his favorite songs in the final years of her life

she ended up passing away before she could see ricky enter his teenage years. in their shared grief he and his father bonded and had a better relationship for a short period, before long he was back to his old tricks again never coming home & ricky had to basically raise himself for a little while, before finally he ended up in the foster care system for the remainder of his teen years

this is where he taught himself how to play the bass guitar his mom had left behind for him, as well as singing and songwriting.  he quickly realized why she found such escapism in music. 

he was a bit of a ‘bad boy’ archetype at school, who was constantly getting into fights etc but would show a softer side to the other outcast kids, especially the other musicians

foster care is also where he manifested a lot of resentment, anger & hostility after everything he had gone through. he kinda felt like life had dealt him such a shitty hand, and he had so many abandonment issues due to his father’s ways. he struggled to bond with any of his foster families and basically hopped around homes for years, still mourning his mom & acting out as a coping mechanism

so pretty much the second he turned eighteen and could leave foster care he got the hell out of town and headed downstate to new york city with pretty much nothing to his name, telling himself he was off to pursuit a career as a solo musician. he wandered around a bit, going about his life as somewhat of a vagabond living out of cheap motels whilst he struggled to settle. 

after a few years spent working shitty 9-5 jobs and almost ending up homeless multiple times, he figured it was time to admit defeat and head back home, as his dreams of becoming a musician hadn’t really took off. he returned to his hometown & found that an old classmate from high school had been advertising around town, for a bassist for his band. it seemed like the perfect opportunity, and ricky jumped on board.

before he could even process it, the band were moving to LA to chase their dreams of making it big. after performing in bars & underground venues, they landed themselves a record deal with cadence

ricky LOVES the fame. he’s finally getting the love, adoration & attention he lacked in his life after his mom died. he’s living the rockstar lifestyle, having fun, and doing whatever he can to feel fulfilled and numb the pain and lasting scars left by his past — which by the way, he’d rather die than open up about.

PERSONALITY

so as is mentioned, the whole thing with his past has made him grow extremely resentful as a person and he has a lot of pent up issues that he bottles up. this makes him extremely stand-offish, short fused, arrogant etc? but the better someone gets to know him the more they’ll see a softer side to him. he’s a complex, multi-dimensional and very guarded person

he’s FIERCELY loyal and will protect his friends at all costs ( yes surprisingly he does have friends ) he’s prepared to fight someone if they’ve done something to hurt his friends

hes a really social guy despite the fact he can be quite intimidating. if you’re not on his bad side he’ll be completely fine with you, like? the main thing that’d get someone onto his bad side would be if they just assumed he was an asshole based on his initial demeanor, without getting to know him

Closed Off Emotionally™ - he basically put up a huge wall so that nobody can see how much the abandonment from his past has got to him but there’s definitely a kinder, damaged boy beneath who just needs time tbh

he lives his life pretty carelessly bc he kinda cant resist the whole idea of a rockstar lifestyle. very reckless i know but can you blame him? the issues of his past are still very much there so he tries to numb the pain in any way he can by drinking and taking drugs tbh, which he knows is unhealthy & he’s trying to stop

actually pretty funny when he wants to be

really competitive

a bicon

when given reason, he can care so deeply about people. it’s so hard for them to see it because of the way he is, but a dead give-away is that if he really cares about someone he will never lie to them. ever

he’s basically just very intense if you couldnt tell already

[jarryprompts]

Harry making a deal with a demon (James). Prompt Fill

Submitted by @itsacruelirony as a response to this prompt. Thank you!

Warnings for some dubcon so approach with caution. Smutt from the outset so under a cut :)

Harry feels the bile rise in his throat and quickly chokes it back down. He won’t get paid if he vomits on his client. Even if this is his most loyal and kind client, it would still earn him a beating and lose him the day’s earnings. Instead he fakes his pleasure, because he knows this man likes him to be responsive, and gives the appropriate moans and touches. His mind conjures up images of the few boyfriends he’d had in the past and of porn he’d watched - anything to make this even slightly enjoyable.

Finally, with a grunt and one deep thrust, the man finishes, slumping over Harry’s prone body to catch his breath. Harry dares not move, despite how rank the man’s aftershave smells and the way the hands still clutch his hips. Hot breath puffs against his ear. Wet, open mouthed kisses press against his neck and bare chest. A tight squeeze of his hips for a moment causes a strike of fear in Harry’s mind - does he want to go again?

Thankfully, the man rolls off him and pulls up his trousers, zipping his fly with finality. Harry gives a sigh of relief. As the man straightens his shirt and tie and slips his blazer back on, Harry takes stock of his body. No matter how often he does this, how integral to his life it is now, he will never get used to the pain and the humiliation he feels every second of the day. But this is his life now.

“I might give you tip. You make me regret being married.” The man jokes, drinking in the sight of Harry’s still exposed body and winking lecherously. The man fishes a wad of cash out of his wallet and hands it over. Harry gapes at the amount but tucks it away before the man can snatch it back.

“Much appreciated.” Harry needs every penny he can get. Maybe, once the cut for his family comes out, he will have enough to spare for a crisps, water and biscuits. A bland diet, he knows, but he’s not ill or deficient in any vitamins yet, so it’ll do.

The man lingers in the alley, stood in his suit with an honest to God briefcase, looking impossible out of place. Harry doesn’t say anything as he fidgets on his sleeping bag. Will the man just leave already? This is awkward.

“…Everything okay?…” He asks hesitantly. His stomach begins to twist nervously.

“You’re a good person.” The man isn’t looking at him. He contemplates the moss growing on the damp brick walls, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Excuse me?”

“You don’t deserve to live your life like this. I know you, and you deserve a second chance.”

“I’ve my second chance and I blew it. If you knew me, you’d know that. Are you done here?”

The client ignores the dismissal, finally turning back to Harry. His hand holding the briefcase clenches. “I can help you. I have a way to make all of your problems disappear. Poof! Gone. And it’s not money.”

Harry knows it is too good to be true, but so long as the man isn’t offering to buy him completely and fix his problems with sex. A miracle fix for his problems. That is the dream. It could make his money worries go away, get him a flat to live in, stop him ever going hungry, get him back into uni, fix his relationship with his father, cure his sister’s near-incurable disease. Harry has wished on every star, on the first snowflake that falls - he would hunt for a genie’s lamp if he thought they existed.

“Go on.” What does he have to lose?

The man doesn’t answer, instead, he winks and smirks and places his case down on the ground and opens it. Harry can’t see what the man is doing, rummaging around in it as if the inside were bigger than the outside. Harry’s heart speeds in anticipation, and he suddenly aware that he is still naked. The chilling breeze nips at his shoulders as he hunches over his drawn up knees. A spark of irritation flies at the man who delights in building the suspense as he stares at Harry.

Finally, from the inside of the case, the man retrieves a thick book. But it is so much more than a simple book. Cracked, burnt black leather covers, with clasps made of a shining red metal, inlaid with inky black pearls. The pages are crumpled and jagged, something rust coloured stains the parchment. It looks to be a thousand years old at the very least. It is too ancient for a sexually deviant businessman to be carrying around in his man-bag. What is it?

As if he could read Harry’s mind, the man begins to explain. “This book and many like it have been handed down the generations of my family, we are the custodians of the secrets it holds. We gift it to those we deem worthy - and you, I think, are worthy. I see how desperate you are, how low life has brought you. You sleep on the ground, in the dirt, like a common beast, and you sell yourself to the highest bidder. And the lowest. You’re starving. You’re hopeless and dying down here. I see everything and I give this to you.”

The man holds out the ominous tome, pressing it into Harry’s hands. He almost buckles under the weight of it. Thankfully it is large enough to cover his modesty from his creepy client.

“How does any of that make me worthy? And what even is this? What am I meant to do with this book? Sell it, eat it, use it as a pillow?”

He should have known. No power in the world is capable of fixing the absolute mess Harry has made of his life. And now this charlatan thinks a stupid book can fix all of his problems. If a book could fix his fucked up life then university wouldn’t have been such a failure at university. He’s kidding himself even thinking he can get together enough money to pay for a private treatment for Dee Dee. His life is fucked.

The man rolls his eyes and growls angrily. For a moment, Harry thinks his eyes flash red. But a second later it’s gone. He must have imagined it. Low blood sugar probably.

“Read it and you’ll know. Do what it takes to improve your life.”

With that dire instruction, the man slips away down the alley, smart shoes clicking on the pavement. He leaves Harry naked on his thin and patchy sleeping bag, with a medieval book in his lap, feeling more humiliated and taken advantage of than he did when the man was screwing him. A book? If only, he scoffs. 

In the cold silence that Harry has grown used to now, he gets dressed, cleaning himself up and preparing for his next client. Money safely stashed away, he tries to focus on his motivation - Dee Dee, and his family - but his thoughts and eyes drift constantly to the bloody book. So out of place in the modern world. Finally, he give sin to the temptation to open it and read. There’s nothing else for him to do.

Reading it turns out to be a bust, because not only is it in some near illegible fancy calligraphy, but it appears to be in Latin, which Harry only knows from his old boarding school’s motto. He doesn’t know near enough to translate this thing. But, undeterred, he examines the pages and the accompanying illustrations, hoping for something to help him, or at least, entertain him until he has to go in search of a new customer.

Weeks later, as he finishes the last page, Harry goes back to the beginning and starts all over again. And again. And again. With each rereading he understands more and more of the contents. When he realises that it is a Satanic text about demons and spells and evil deeds, he only contemplates throwing it away for a second before starting to read again. It’s not like there’s an abundance of reading material for homeless prostitutes, and besides, it’s actually pretty interesting.

In the dark of the night, when he has no light by which to read his tome, Harry wonders why his client gave this to him, and he mulls over his cryptic words as a kind of lullaby. He hasn’t seen the man since so has no one to go to for answers. While the book is illuminating in many ways, he still doesn’t know what to do.

That is until the day he collects his meagre savings and shoves them into a wrinkled brown envelope. It’s not enough, even with the money he was going to save for himself so that he could eat a little better the following week. Dee Dee’s treatment is expensive, he knows, and this will barely put a dent into it. But he posts it through the flat’s letterbox anyway, when he knows that everyone is out.

It’s as he lets the tears fall down his cheeks, as the realisation that this could very well be his life until the day he dies washes over him, that he understands. He was given the book because he has nothing to lose and everything to gain. So he might as well use what he’s learnt. Harry doesn’t care if this is a ploy to suck him into some cult, or steal his immortal soul or whatever, he really does have nothing left to lose.

So, by the fading light of the day, Harry settles down on his sleeping bag, a demonic book in his lap, and prepares to summon a demon. It’s what the book is for. It details all the requirements - not many - and the consequences - a few - and the risks - too many to list. Harry feels prepared for this, so he confidently recites the required Latin text. Though he stumbles over pronunciation he guesses it doesn’t matter how he pronounces a dead language, and carries on. It’s the intent that matters, anyway.

As he finishes the silence in the alley presses down on him. No birds sing, no cars rumble by, no wind whistles. Harry’s breathing becomes laboured as fear creeps in. What did he just do?

“Hello, Harry.”

Harry shrieks and nearly jumps out of his skin. For where there once was empty space, now stands the most handsome man Harry has ever seen. Well, demon, he supposes, given the ritual he just performed. But he looks nothing like a demon. He’s dressed in an impeccable suit, hair combed back, and completely devoid of a pitchfork and tail. Thankfully the man - demon - says nothing about his scream.

Neither of them speak. Harry tries and fails to break the silence but his jaw merely opens and close noiselessly like a dumb fish. God, he must look so stupid and brainless to this impressive and immortal demon. A puny, pathetic prostitute.

Seemingly amused, the demon takes a step forward and gracefully folds himself down to sit next to Harry. Harry looks up, at the demon, confused.

“Take your time. I know that book doesn’t quite prepare you well enough for demon summoning.”

“I— I— I just summoned a demon?”

“Yes. Me.”

“Do you have a name?”

“… What?” That startles the demon. Harry feels flicker of pride at having shocked someone as powerful as him before the confusion and shock settle in again.

“A name. It’s rude to just call you demon, isn’t it? I’d find it rude if I called ‘human’ or ‘person’ all the time. Surely you have a name.”

“Oh. My real name is rather difficult for your kind to pronounce - much like that Latin you butchered.”

“Sorry. Is there a name you want me to call you, then? One I can pronounce.”

“You may call me James.”

“Very well. Nice to meet you, James.” Harry hold out his hand for the demon - James - to shake, rather surprising himself. And James if the look on his face is anything to go by. “Just go with it. I think I’m in shock.” With a quirk of his lips, the demon shakes his hand.

“What happens now?” The book didn’t explain what to do once the demon has been summoned, it seems to rely on the person working the spell having some sort of natural instinct. Something Harry does not have. If he did, he wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place.

“Well, you are obviously worthy, since you have the book. Tell me what you need to do and we’ll work out a deal.”

“A deal?”

“Obviously, I don’t do this for free.”

“No, I… I knew that, obviously. I just… you’ll do it? No matter what? So if I needed someone to die in order to improve my life, then you’d do it? What if I asked you to commit genocide?”

James doesn’t bat an eyelid. “It would be done. For a price.” There is no doubt that the price would be steep, but the fact that he would kill a person, or an entire race of people, for a price - for Harry - is startling. Though, Harry supposes, he is a demon. Demons don’t exactly have morals.

“But I doubt you need me murder anyone, let alone an entire population.” James reassures him. Harry finds he quite likes this man. It might be because he’s the first person to have a proper conversation with him in months. Or because he is undeniably attractive and Harry can feel the stirrings of desire in his stomach. “What is your predicament?”

Harry sighs, his shoulders sagging where he sits and feeling more relaxed next to an omnipotent demon than he has done in a long time. He shuts the book and scrapes his nails gently on the tough cover; absently, he notices how long and dirty his nails have gotten.

“I did something my father can’t forgive.”

“I can’t change the past, Harry. No one can. I’m sorry.” Somehow, Harry believes James.

“I didn’t expect you too. I’d either screw up again exactly the same or be so plagued with guilt about it I’d tell my dad and be back here again. I messed up, got kicked out and I just need to make amends so that I can go back home.”

“And you’re making amends how?”

“Any money I have goes towards paying for a treatment for my sister. She has autoimmune encephalitis and there’s a treatment that might help but it’s experimental and not available on the NHS, so the family have to pay.” There’s something wrong about paying for a child’s medical bills with sex, but it’s the only choice Harry has. No savings, no job, no smart clothes for an interview or a printer for a CV. Being homeless sucks.

“You’re selling your body for your sister. For your family. And how do they feel knowing the money you give them comes from a man abusing your body?”

“I don’t really know. I post it through the letter box when I know they’re out.” Harry fidgets guiltily. He can’t even face his family, how will things ever be okay? “They’d hate it. I’m disgusting and dirty… they won’t want me anywhere near the kids. And too right.”

“So you won’t be allowed near the sister you sacrificed yourself for. Charming.” James doesn’t try hard to keep the contempt out of his voice. It brings a rare smile to Harry’s face to have someone on his side - a smile he fights down because that’s a selfish thought and it’s wrong.

“I guess I need… I would like Dee Dee to be healthy. I want her safe and comfortable, and I don’t want it come at the cost of my family’s financial stability. I want my family to be happy.”

“And what about you? Is there anything you want for yourself?”

“I don’t deserve anything. I’m a lost cause.”

James stiffens beside him, but Harry doesn’t dare look at him. He knows he has a sort of ally, but he can’t see the pity or compassion. Not when he doesn’t have it from his family.

“Very well. I will require something in return.”

No matter what was demanded of him, Harry has nothing to lose. That was what drew him to summon a demon in the first place. And for his sister? He would give anything to see her smile again, to have her laugh and be carefree, without tubes sticking out of her. “Anything.”

“Your soul.”

“And what will you do with my soul?”

“Set you free.”

[salsflore]

Hello.🙂

For the ask game: 🍳, 🤗, 😇 and 💖?

ILY. ty for always sending me these tbh

🍳 Who’s more likely to cook for the other?

zhongli time *dies* let’s see.. i said this before like twice maybe but ya he’d b more likely to do it bc of his silly particular taste and my being afraid of messing up !! he’s like “i’ll be fine with whatever you make” no. die

🤗 Who’s more likely to initiate cuddles?

....i’m not a very touchy person ( i actually super dislike being randomly touched by most ppl ) but i make an exception for him. in fact i’ll stick to him like i’ll die if i don’t.. but this doesn’t necessarily mean like cuddles all the time ( still, i’m probably the most likely to initiate it, we just don’t do it toooo often ) i just like existing in the same space with him. going to the kitchen? what a coincidence, i wanted to stare at the fridge! sitting on a couch? what a coincidence, i also like couches, scoot over! blah blah

😇 Who’s more likely to give some pennies to a homeless person on the street?

me bc zhongli probably won’t have anything to give. dumbass !!

💖 Who’s more likely to say “I love you” randomly?

UH. him. ya. IT FEELS LIKE.. I JUST STRUGGLE WITH THAT STUFF it’s like awkward for me ( even when it’s not for him ) i think out of the two of us he’s like a billion percent more likely to randomly say sweet things like that. i’d rather die so i show my affection in other ways ( see : being clingy like there’s no tomorrow, sending cat pictures www, etc )

[stormlight1]

Feral - A Labyrinth Story

Just wanted to say a quick word of thanks to those who are reading/liking/commenting/reblogging. I’m getting used to Tumblr’s platform so bear with me.

Two

     Sarah lay on the bed in the guest room that had served as her bedroom for the past eight months, a cold compress over her eyes. Despite the relatively early hour, she kept the lights dimmed and the shades drawn, hoping it would help ward off the tension headache she could feel developing in that spot right between her eyes. She'd just gotten off the phone with her divorce lawyer, who'd wanted to go over the proceedings of tomorrow's court case one final time, to make sure she knew what she was supposed to say and do in order to get her fair share of monetary assets out of the deal.

     How ironic, came the humorless thought. She'd never realized just how much getting a divorce resembled putting on a play. Move just so, say exactly this, or else it could all be shot to hell, and the act would be ruined.

     "Say your right words," she mumbled as her lips curled into a sardonic smile.

     Honestly, she didn't really care how much money she got out of it. She knew she wouldn't get the house—that wasn't up for debate—but she didn't want it anyway. And what in the world would she do with furnishings when she had nowhere to put them? The only concerning matter to her was her daughter. In terms of child support, she would put on her little play and make sure she squeezed every penny she could out of that heartless bastard, if it meant ensuring that Katie would be taken care of until she turned eighteen. Augustine was wealthy enough, thanks to his family; he'd been left with a small fortune when his father died three years ago, so he could damn well see to it that his only daughter never wanted for anything.

     It was the fact that, within those pages and pages of documents she'd repeatedly gone over with a fine-tooth comb, not a single mention of her husband's parental rights had come up. As far as she could tell, he hadn't asked for anything regarding joint custody. He'd asked for visitation rights, but it looked as if he had no interest in helping to raise his own daughter. No weekend visits, no splitting her down the middle, living six months in one house and six months in the other…

     Not that Sarah wasn't relieved by this. She had spent the first two years of her parents' divorce in just such an arrangement, living in Manhattan with her mother (and Jeremy) over summer vacation and winter breaks. Spending the other nine months in the house she'd been born and raised in, so she wouldn't have to transfer schools. Life there was all so normal and boring.

     As a teenager she'd loved the excitement of living with her actress mother, spending as much time behind-the-scenes in the playhouses as she did at home. She'd felt like a grownup when her mother took her to bars with her friends after a successful show, celebrating all through the night. Cocktails and expensive food and beautiful, glittering clothes and jewelry … it had all been so glamorous, and Sarah was determined to have such a life for herself when she grew up.

     Then, of course, her father had decided that such a hectic lifestyle was no place to raise a teenaged girl. Especially one as strong-willed as Sarah, who was so clearly influenced by the behavior of the adults around her. He'd filed for full custody, having just remarried himself, and the courts had granted it.

     Sarah's mother didn't even put up a fight.

     Sarah had hated her father for that, and she'd been sure her "evil stepmother" was the one to blame for convincing him to take her away from that life. Add a new little half-brother into the mix, and she'd been certain it was all some elaborate plot to gain a free babysitter and household slave.

     So many years later, though, Sarah could admit she'd been ridiculous. She'd so often accused Toby of being spoiled rotten but she'd been spoiled herself, by her mother, her mother's friends… Her father had been right to pull her away from that world and force her into a life of stability. And now the thought of her own daughter possibly going through such an ordeal made Sarah shudder.

     So, really, she should be grateful that her husband didn't want Katie. Had he demanded joint custody—or, heaven help her, full custody—she wouldn't have stood a fighting chance. After all, he was the one with the house, the money, and the steady, full-time career. Everything the courts thought important to properly raise a child.

     Sarah, on the other hand, was currently homeless, stuck living in her parents' house, working two part-time jobs in an attempt to save enough money for an apartment close to the neighborhood. Just so she wouldn't have to uproot Katie's life any more than it already had been. Now she wished she'd tried to finish her college courses on top of raising a child, because it seemed a mere high school diploma just wasn't going to get her very far, career-wise. And on top of that, while she was relieved that she wouldn't have to fight Augustine to keep her own daughter, she was also completely outraged on Katie's behalf. Exactly how was she supposed to explain to a seven-year-old that Daddy didn't want her anymore?

     A hot tear slipped down Sarah's cheek from the corner of her eye. She irritably brushed it away, knocking the compress to the floor. Outside, a flash of lightning briefly outlined the half-drawn shades, illuminated the wooden floor. She mentally counted to five seconds, before the low growl of thunder followed. A storm was approaching, it seemed. More silence, and then another flicker of light. She only got to three when the rumble followed it. It was coming on fast. She frowned, thoughtful. Toby had taken Katie to the park to play, and it was a bit of a walk. They probably wouldn't make it back before the storm hit, and she didn't like the idea of them out in the middle of it by themselves.

     Inspiration struck, and she abruptly sat up, headache forgotten as she scanned the floor for her sneakers. She'd go out and meet them halfway. A walk would clear her head a bit, and besides, she'd always liked the way the air smelled just before a storm. Sharp and fresh, like ozone and rain. As a kid, she used to go walking in storms, just for fun (and as an added bonus, it drove Karen crazy when she came home sopping wet, trailing mud and water). There was always the hum of tension in the air, a slight crackle that brushed the fine hairs on her arms, as if the world held its breath in anticipation.

     She slipped on her shoes and grabbed a light sweater, pounded down the stairs to snatch a pair of umbrellas out of the stand beside the door. Her parents had gone out to dinner to meet some of her father's old college buddies. They didn't plan to be home until very late, or very early. Which, of course, left Sarah to keep an eye on the kids. Just like old times, she thought dryly, although Toby hardly needed a babysitter anymore. She pocketed a house key and was just about to step out when the telephone rang in the hallway.

     She muttered a curse and answered with an impatient "Hello?" A loud burst of static greeted her and she winced and moved the handset away from her ear. "Hello?" she repeated, a bit cautiously. More static, what sounded like a few garbled words that she couldn't quite catch through the white noise. She thought one of them might have been her name. Thunder rumbled again, an ominous warning. She glanced toward the open front door. "Look, I can't understand you," she said loudly. "The storm must be interfering. I have to step out for a bit, so try calling back later, okay?" And she unceremoniously hung up. It had probably just been her lawyer again, wanting to go over the details of her case for the umpteenth time. She personally thought him a bit anal about the entire event, but she supposed that was what made him good at his job.

     She stepped outside and closed the door behind her, hopped down the porch steps just as the wind picked up with a sudden shriek. It buffeted her back as she hurried down the street, whipped her hair into a frenzy around her face and tempted a little giggle from her lips despite her sour mood. Two blocks away, she came upon the children, hunkered down against the gale. Katie walked in front as her uncle walked just behind her, pushing her along. "Ahoy there, mateys!" Sarah called. "Need a little help?"

     "Mommy!" Her daughter raced ahead and threw herself into Sarah's arms. "The wind almost blowed me away!" she exclaimed, breathless. "Just like Dorothy and the tornado!"

     "It did, did it? I was wondering where that flying monkey had come from!" Sarah nudged her brother's side playfully and gained a light punch in the arm in retaliation. A fat raindrop landed on her cheek, another on her upturned hand. The sky growled its displeasure. "Uh-oh!" she gasped in mock terror. "The maelstrom is about to break! The rain goblins are almost here!"

     "Oh no!" Katie shrieked in delighted terror. "They sound really mad!"

     "Don't worry, we've got force-fields!" Toby grabbed one of Sarah's umbrellas and opened it as a short torrent of cold drops hit them. He held it in front of himself and Katie like a shield, but the wind had other ideas, abruptly switching directions and threatening to turn the flimsy umbrella inside-out. "Goblins … too … strong!" he gasped as he wrestled with it. "Force-field … failing… She cannae take much more o' this, Captain!"

     Sarah laughed loudly as another torrent of drops splattered her face. "Then there's only one thing we can do!" she announced dramatically, and swooped down to scoop Katie over her shoulder. "Retreat!" She broke into a sprint as the sky opened up and released its furious downpour.

     Toby whooped and followed, easily surpassing the girls as his bellows of "Red alert! Red alert!" echoed down the street, and Katie's joyous screams of laughter threatened to drown even the roiling thunder.

     The phone was ringing again when the sopping trio finally made it into the house. Sarah unceremoniously dumped Katie into Toby's arms and hurried to answer it, but the machine picked up before she could reach it. She waited patiently for the recorded greeting to finish, notepad and pen in hand to jot down the caller's information. Instead, another burst of static came through the speaker. She grimaced, again picking up a few random, garbled words through the static before the connection abruptly cut off.

     Along with the rest of the power in the house.

     "Aw … damn it," she muttered, and heard a snicker and a scandalized giggle from just behind her. She wrinkled her nose. "Sorry."

     "Mommy has to put a quarter in the Swear Jar," Katie whispered loudly to Toby. "I've almost got a whole five dollars saved up now."

     Toby sniggered again.

     "Har har." Sarah fished a crumpled dollar bill from her pocket, slightly damp. "Here. Prepayment." She handed over the bill and the small flashlight she'd dug out of the drawer under the phone. Katie accepted both with another giggle and scurried up the stairs to her bedroom.

     "Think Mom and Dad'll be home soon? Think they're okay?" Toby shifted uncomfortably as he glanced out the living room window. He wasn't afraid of storms, but dark places always made him edgy. Sarah often wondered if his fear of the dark wasn't some throwback to that night so long ago, when it had been storming just like this and she'd summoned the Goblin King on him. Some deep part of his subconscious could still potentially remember, right? She tamped down a stab of guilt. What was said was said. No amount of wishful thinking would make it otherwise.

     "I don't think they plan to be home until really late this time," she explained. "Don't worry, I'm sure they're fine. That was probably them calling just now to check up on us." She switched on another flashlight and held it under her chin. "If you're bored, we can always sit around the coffee table and tell ghost stories," she teased.

     He pulled a face. "Eh. Can't you just teach me to play poker or something?"

     She laughed. "We need to play something Katie will enjoy, too. How about Snakes and Ladders?"

     After several games of Snakes and Ladders, and then a few more of Candy Land (with a fine dinner of peanut-butter-and-banana sandwiches and potato chips in between), the power had yet to turn back on, and the camping lanterns Sarah had dug out of the closet were running low on fuel. The storm had raged a good two hours before finally blowing itself out, and she wondered how many power lines it took out with it. It had been a long time since she'd witnessed a thunderstorm that fierce.

     She glanced at the clock. Ten-fifteen, and long past time for little girls to be in bed. Or big ones, for that matter, she thought. She did, after all, have her day in court tomorrow. It wouldn't do to show up exhausted. She tended to get emotional and overstressed when she was exhausted, and her lawyer had made it clear that she needed to remain cool and level-headed. "Okay," she announced, "I think it's about time to put games away and go to bed." She ignored the expected protests and ushered the kids up the stairs to their bedrooms. Toby's old nursery looked far more like a twelve-year-old's playground now, and was just about as messy. Sarah gave him a lantern and hastily bid him goodnight before her neat-freak tendencies could kick in and she started tidying up the place. She'd always hated a disorderly bedroom.

     Katie's room still looked as it did when Sarah had occupied it way back when. The furniture sat in the exact same spots. The curtains still framed the window just so. Shelves overflowed with stuffed animals and books, knickknacks lined neatly along the edges of the dresser. Posters and pictures had been tacked all over the walls, although Katie clearly preferred her hand-drawn illustrations of horses and kittens over Sarah's former choices of newspaper clippings and theater production posters. A tattered teddy bear held its place of honor on Katie's pillow and Sarah smiled to see it. She tucked her daughter under the familiar worn quilt with its fraying edges. "Did you brush your teeth?" she asked.

     "Yup!" Katie confirmed with a nod.

     "Did Launcelot brush his teeth?" Sarah teasingly bopped Katie's nose with the bear's.

     "He doesn't have any teeth!" Katie squealed around her giggles.

     Sarah laughed and ruffled her golden hair. "Okay now. Settle down and go to sleep. Launcelot is tired."

     "You're tired," Katie accused.

     "I am. So I'm going to sleep now. Goodnight, Katydid." Sarah kissed her and headed to her own room, slipped from her clothes into a pair of cut-off sweatpants and a T-shirt. She probably looked about as sexy as a bag lady in the getup, but it was comfortable and these days comfort was all that mattered. Besides, Augustine had stopped being impressed with her more risque nightwear a long time ago, so she'd long since given up wearing it.

     She sighed, pursed her lips as she examined the scattered papers on the bed. Practically a book's worth, she thought. One of those thick, boring ones a person was forced to read in school for their least favorite class. With a sort of childish satisfaction, she gripped the edges of the designer comforter and gave a mighty shake, up-heaved its contents to send papers scattering and flying every-which-way. "Serves you right," she murmured as she slipped between the cool sheets, pulled the comforter over her head to block out the world for a few hours. She'd be forced to face it again soon enough. For now, at least, she welcomed the comfort of sleep, ready to just forget everything for a little while.

     "Mommy!"

     Sarah slowly roused, groggy and disoriented. And strangely warm. The air was stifling; in her half-asleep state, it took her several moments to realize that she'd fully buried herself under the blankets. She sluggishly clawed around until she found one end and lifted it to allow cool air to flow into her makeshift nest.

     "Mommy!" the little voice said again, and she felt something prod at her, trying to shake her awake. She poked her face out from under the covers, squinted up at the small figure hovering over her.

     "Katie, it's—" She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. "—one-thirty in the morning! What are you doing up? Did you have a bad dream?"

     The little girl shook her head, expression oddly grim. "There's a funny man asking for you," she half-whispered, as if afraid someone else might overhear.

     "A funny man?" Sarah frowned and scrubbed sleep from her eyes, feeling slightly more alert. Not quite alert enough to understand what her daughter was talking about, though. "Are you sure you didn't have a dream?"

     "Nu-uh." Katie shook her head emphatically. "He said the telephone didn't work, so he had to call you this way, instead."

     "The tele—" Now Sarah was really confused. "Was he the one trying to call earlier?"

     "Yes, but it didn't work."

     She sat up, ran her fingers through her tangled hair. "He isn't at the door, is he?" Her heart slammed against her chest at the thought. But both of the kids knew better than to answer the door to strangers, especially in the middle of the night! Unless … this man was already inside the house. And that thought drove any remaining sleep clear out of her head. She scrambled out of bed, shoved her feet into the first pair of shoes she found, looked around the room for a suitable weapon. A tall, slender bronze statuette on the corner of the dresser caught her eye. A naked lady in art-deco style. The thing was ugly as sin and had probably cost a small fortune. She hefted it, testing its solid weight. It would do. "Okay, where's the funny man hiding?" she asked, pushing Katie behind her as she crept into the hallway. "Is he in the living room? Your bedroom?"

     "No, he's not in the house. He's in the mirror." Katie spoke as if that should have been the most obvious thing in the world.

     Sarah froze, felt the world tilt crazily and realized she'd braced one hand against the wall to keep from tipping right over. "The … mirror?" Her voice emerged as a squeak. "A funny man … is in your mirror."

     "Yup!" Katie regarded her mother strangely. "Are you sick? You look weird."

     Sarah swallowed hard and straightened, walked in slow and measured steps down the hall toward the bedroom located at its end. She pushed open the door to find it illuminated in pink from the rose glass of her daughter's bedside lamp; apparently, power had been restored overnight. She started to step in, hesitated as she glanced at Katie. "How about you go sleep in my bed, okay?" she requested. "I want to talk to the funny man for awhile."

     Katie shrugged, unconcerned, and trotted back to Sarah's room without argument. Oh, to possess the courage of a child, Sarah thought dryly as she stepped into the bedroom and shut the door behind her. From her position, she couldn't see very well, so she moved further in until she could get a better look. The top of the dressing table glowed softly in a way that had nothing to do with the lamp, and her eyes widened when she stopped directly in front of it and got a first good look at the mirror.

     It was definitely not her own reflection staring back at her.

     "H-Hoggle!" His name escaped, hardly louder than a whisper as her heart thumped hard against her ribs. A myriad of emotions flowed through her, come and gone so quickly that she hardly had time to feel them, much less sort them out.

     "Hello, Sarah," Hoggle replied, and his gravelly voice sounded so dearly familiar, and he looked so genuinely glad to see her that tears sprang to her eyes.

     "Where have you been?" she gasped, as the bronze statuette she still held slipped, forgotten, from nerveless fingers. It landed with a heavy thud on the floor, and the startling noise made her jump. "Do you know how worried I've been? You all just … disappeared! Without so much as a goodbye, and I had no way of contacting you or knowing if anything had happened to you and—" She had to stop talking, then, because the lump in her throat had grown too big and tight to speak around. So she stood there and glowered at him, swallowed convulsively to ease the ache in her throat, and swore that she wouldn't break down and bawl like the little girl she no longer was.

     Hoggle had removed his cap and now twisted it in his hands, his expression so full of remorse that Sarah almost felt guilty for going off on him like that. Almost. She'd owed him a good chewing-out for just abandoning her, and he owed her one heck of an explanation. "I'm sorry, Sarah," he began, soft and contrite. "I knows just sayin' that won't fix anything. Should've tried harder t' comes back, but it just gots too difficult. Too dangerous t' try an' talk to yas anymore. We thought … it'd be better t' not risk it." He gave her a one-shouldered shrug and a crooked smile. "Figured after a bit, you'd get over it an' go on with life, like you was supposed to."

     "How could you expect that?" she exploded, throwing her hands out. "You three were my best friends! How could I just forget?"

     "But humans ain't even supposed t' keep in contact, ya know? They ain't supposed t' remember. When they get sent back, they ferget all about the Labyrinth. 'Course, none o' them ever did what you did. You beat Jareth's game, beat the Labyrinth. Don't surprise me none that you remembered, even after we … lost touch." His smile was equal parts smug and impressed, and his eyes gleamed with pride. "'S why I'm here now," he added. "'Cause I thinks you can help. I shouldn't evens be talkin' t' you—Jareth'd boot me straight into the Bog if he found out—but it's worth the risk."

     Sarah's stern expression melted into confusion, touched with alarm. "Help with what?" she pressed. "Hoggle, what's going on? Did … did something happen?" She absently worried a thumbnail. "I always felt … maybe something was wrong, back when you three started visiting less and … acting strange. And when you disappeared I wanted to find my way back but I just didn't know how. I'd even considered calling on Jareth to get there. That's how worried I was." She offered a sardonic grin at his snort.

     "Good thing you didn't. He'd've never let you go again."

     "Yeah." She nodded. "I figured as much." She shifted on her feet, settled herself into the wooden chair to be more eye-level with him. "Will you tell me what's happening? Why did you stop visiting? Why are you risking Jareth's almighty wrath to contact me now?"

     He shifted, brow furrowed. "Well, honestly, Jareth ain't in much of a position t' do much about anything, even if he knows. An' I'm pretty sure he does know, tied to the magic as he is."

     "What do you mean?" Despite herself, she couldn't tamp the flicker of alarm that caused her heart to quicken in her chest. "I-is something wrong with him?"

     Hoggle's sigh was deep and weary and filled with a decade of hopeless struggle. "We tried t' get him t' ask you for help a lot earlier. But you'd … moved on by then. Like we wanted. He refused. Too proud fer 'is own good." He snorted in disgust. "Kept sayin' he'd handle it hisself. Flat-out threatened t' dunk us all in the Bog an' then banish us t' the Wastelands fer good measure just fer thinkin' about askin'. We didn't dare disobey."

     "Hoggle, what happened?" Her voice was sharp with worry, and she took several deep breaths in a useless attempt to calm down.

     He shifted again, placed his wrinkled cap upon his head, and met her gaze. "Started not long after you left here, an' got lots worse the more time passed. Ain't nothin' anyone can do. Not even the Goblin King." He shook his head, hands twisting his shirt in place of his hat. "Jareth—the Labyrinth—Everything's dyin', Sarah. An' we thinks you's th' only one who can fix it."

Chapter Three

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HEBREWS: A Letter From GOD Specifically to YOU!!!

Marcus Edmond Marcus Edmond Marcus Edmond I WENT IN PERSON TO RESOLVE THE PROBLEM ON CASE #180707-3298539 Print complaint OPEN Submitted STATUS Submitted to the CFPB on 7/7/2018 PRODUCT Mortgage ISSUE Trouble during payment process I SPOKE TO MR RICHARD FAIRBANKS ASSOCIATE ERIC AND ASK FOR A MEETING WITH CEO WHY CAPITAL ONE REFUSE TO SET UP A MEETING WITH THE DIVINE KING! I LIKE TO LOOK AT THE PERSON IN HIS EYES AND SEE IF WILL LIE TO THE DIVINE KING.. LIKE I TOLD ERIC. I'M NOT GOING ON THE WELFARE SYSTEM EVER AGAIN BECAUSE OF MY NET-WORTH OF $39.7 ZILLION HOLDINGS WITH CAPITAL ONE DISCOVER FIDELITY AND US BANK WHO HOLDS THE DIVINE ASSETS ON RECORD WITH OUR US TREASURY AND FEDERAL RESERVE BANK OUR GRANTOR. I WAS DENIED MY RIGHTS TO FILL OUT A POLICE REPORT WITH LOCAL PRIVATE DC METROPOLITAN POLICE DEPARTMENT WHY? DO THE BANKS OWN OUR JUDGES AND LAW ENFORCEMENT OFFICIALS? WHY WAS I REFUSE TO SCHEDULE A MEETING CONCERNS ON THE FUTURE OF AMERICA FINANCIAL SYSTEMS AND MY FATHER IS WATCHING EVERYTHING 3EYE VISION! SO WHY WAS I REFUSE A MEETING THE GIVEN $3 DOLLARS FOR TRAIN MONEY WHEN THE TRAIN COST $3.85 LUCKY THE HOMELESSNESS WILL FALL ON THE WHOLE CAPITAL ONE FRANCHISE FOR DEFRAUDING THE LIVING GOD LUCIFER LORD EAENKI MARCUS DWAYNE EDMOND SR Manage Like · Reply · 1m Marcus Edmond Marcus Edmond You have successfully submitted your complaint! A message has been sent to you with instructions on how to track your complaint. ID FOR COMPLAINT SENT TO FIDELITY ACCOUNT SERVICES LLC 180718-3326766 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TmkOrEZLEic Manage

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07/18/2018 Hello, Thank you for your complaint 180718-3326766 about FIDELITY ACCOUNT SERVICES LLC. Keep this communication and your complaint number so you’ll be able to track your complaint throughout the complaint process. The complaint process involves 5 steps. Step 1 is complaint submitted. Step 2 is review and route. Step 3 is company review and response. Step 4 is complaint closed and published. Step 5 is consumer reviews response. Step 1: Complaint Submitted is currently selected. Summary of your complaint Complaint number: 180718-3326766 Date submitted to CFPB: 07/18/2018 Product: Credit card or prepaid card Issue: Trouble using your card do your job are you can turn in your badge Lucifer Yahawashi Lord EaEnki Marcus Edmond

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