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mackenzielovee · 3 years ago

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ambivalence part two: swim - rafe cameron

a/n: anxiety = through the roof. im already almost finished with part 3 and i LOVE it so stay tuned! i hope you love this chapter! leave me a comment and lmk xoxo

Summary: Rafe tries his best to give you what you want, but you don't let him.

Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 5.1k

series masterlist

my writing

"Top, can I please just stay in the car?"

You unbuckle your seatbelt, already knowing the answer. Topper shakes his head, glaring at you like he is annoyed you hadn't listened the first time he explained why you have to go into the Club with him to pick up his paycheck.

"It is prime lunch time right now, Y/N. If Marco sees me, he'll practically force me into an apron and tell me to get to work. You're my plausible deniability."

"Plausible deniability?" you question as the two of you climb out of his Jeep, "What, did you commit a crime? It's not that serious."

"Oh, trust me, it is. Sorry we can't all set up direct deposit the second we get hired," he mutters, waving you forward with him.

You shove your hands into your jacket pockets and groan, following Topper toward the Club. It's a little windy today, so you figure Topper's probably right about the lunch rush. All of that bad golfers came in for a bite to eat so as not to embarrass themselves any further.

"You act like direct deposit is a chore," you continue on, watching Topper shake his head, "It literally could not be easier."

"Yeah, yeah. We don't all have mountains of time on our hands, Little Miss Perfect."

You sneer at the nickname, punching him in the shoulder as payback. He'd called you that once and got such a reaction out of you that he will pull it out every once in a while just to make sure you still hate it.

Topper pulls the door of the Club open and allows you to walk in first, gently setting a hand on your hips when you stop short in the entrance. He's barely able to get inside.

"Busy," you mumble to him, pointing to the groups of men gathered around the bar and flooding the outside deck.

Your eyes float around the room, eyeing all of the old men in polos, when you find Rafe in that crowd. Also in a polo, his hair is messy from the wind outside. He hasn't bothered to fix it, but you can tell by the amount of empty glasses in front of him that he's been here a while. You watch as he picks up his filled glass and brings it to his lips, eyes flickering up and meeting yours instantly, almost like he was able to feel you looking at him.

You watch his eyes flicker down to Topper's hand still on your hips, and feel frozen when you sense Topper lean his head down to whisper in your ear.

"Come on."

He removes his hand from your hips and brings it up to the small of your back as he tries to lead you forward. You follow Topper's guidance and walk toward the swinging door labeled 'Employees Only'. Once you two are through the door, Topper drops his hand from you completely.

Topper glances around for your boss, and when he doesn't see him, he sighs in relief. He leads you into the office, letting you wait outside the door while he makes small talk with the assistant manager. The second he gets his hands on his check, he's out the door. He grabs ahold of your elbow and leads you out, not wanting to waste any time being seen.

"You're being a little dramatic, you know," you inform him.

He pushes open the swinging door once more, glancing around for Marco.

"Shut it. If you'd ever picked up a check on a busy day, you'd understand, too."

You just shrug, not totally convinced. Topper sees Rafe at the bar and breaks for him without even mentioning it to you. You throw your head back and follow him over, knowing you can't get into Topper's Jeep without the keys. Otherwise, you'd just go wait for him in the car.

"Yo, dude," Topper greets him the second he's within speaking distance.

"What up, man?" Rafe questions, holding his hand out for Topper to shake.

"Ah, you know," Topper shrugs, "Y/N and I are happy to be off today, holy shit."

Rafe snickers, taking another sip of his drink. You're tucked behind Topper, but you still have a view of Rafe. He hasn't so much as glanced your way.

"Yeah, I can imagine."

"Is this what you're doing today?" Topper asks him, making you wince at the judgment in his voice.

"Well, I don't have a job, Top," Rafe turns in his chair, looking up at his friend. You stare at him, and he feels it, but he doesn't look at you.

"What?"

"Ward gave me the axe," Rafe explains.

Your eyes go wide, thinking about how Rafe had told you before he told Topper. You furrow your eyebrows as you stare at him, hoping to catch his glance. You want to know why he told you that, why he trusted you.

"Dude, I'm so sorry. If you need anything-"

"I'm good," Rafe stops him, moving forward in his seat once again.

Topper sets a hand on Rafe's back, patting him as if to comfort him. Rafe doesn't react or respond, just takes another sip of his drink.

"If you need a ride later, just give me a call. Y/N and I would be happy to come get you."

Your eyes flicker over to Topper, but he's too focused on his friend to be concerned. You look back over to Rafe when he laughs audibly.

"I'm sure she'd be thrilled to do that."

Topper elbows you in the stomach, trying to silently tell you to speak up. You cough awkwardly, then sigh, then elbow Topper back. Rafe's looking forward now, so you can only see his side profile. He's clenching his jaw, which draws your attention for longer than it should.

"It's fine," you speak up, your voice weak, "If you need a ride, we'll get you."

You watch as his jaw unclenches at your words, and his eyes flicker down to the glass he had set down on the bar. He licks his lips, then sits up straight and turns back to Topper. No glance to you, not even a little one.

"Hey, thanks, man. I'll be fine, though. Appreciate the concern," Rafe holds his hand out for Topper to shake once again, his way of telling Topper that you two can go now.

"All right," Topper nods, meeting Rafe's handshake, "If anything changes, give me a call. Let's play a round next weekend, yeah?"

"For sure. I'll make us a tee time later today," Rafe agrees.

Topper releases his hand and pats Rafe on the back again. Rafe turns back in his chair, keeping his eyes on the floor so he doesn't risk accidentally looking at you. You feel Topper turn to you, ready for you to lead him out of the Club.

"Bye, Rafe," you say gently.

He doesn't react. He pretends as if he doesn't hear you. You glance to Topper, watching him shrug. You take a deep breath and then turn away, feeling Topper once again set his hand on your arm so he doesn't lose you in the mass of people surrounding you. You don't look back at Rafe, even though you really want to. By the time you're out the door of the Club, you convince yourself he truly didn't hear you.

"So, are you finally out of the 'eating ice cream by the gallon' and 'watching The Notebook a million times over' phase?" Topper teases you.

You two had come to the beach for some peace, which gave you exactly that. You needed to be somewhere that wasn't your house, and when Topper suggested it, given the weather, it seemed perfect. The sun is tucked under clouds, and with the wind, you feel extremely content. He had a spare towel in his Jeep, which is what the two of you are currently sitting on.

"I have not watched The Notebook once, shut up," you laugh, shaking your head at him.

"I thought all girls did that," he defends.

"I'll let you in on a secret, Top," you say, sticking your spoon back into the ice cream Topper had bought for the two of you. It sits in between you, his spoon having gone untouched for a while now. You wonder if he bought it for you under the premise of sharing.

"Okay, what is it?"

"Girls don't like to be teased about The Notebook. It's actually a very classic film."

Topper lets out a loud laugh, "Yeah, okay."

"You've never even seen it!"

"No, I haven't," he agrees, "And I will never."

"Hm, I think I can change your mind," you smile.

He looks over at you now, watching the way the wind blows through your hair and how you pull your jacket tighter around your torso. You look down and pick up your spoon once more, taking another scoop of ice cream from the container.

"Y'know, I'm gonna say something, and if you ever repeat it to anyone, I'll deny it," he informs you.

"Okay."

"I missed seeing you smile."

Your head shoots over to him at his words, watching him break out into a grin. You do the same, letting your eyes fall from his after a second. He reaches down and swirls his spoon around, but doesn't take a bite.

"Yeah, I'd definitely deny it if I ever said something that cheesy," you tease him.

He laughs and shakes his head, "Shut up, would you."

You laugh once more, looking over at him with your smile as if to silently thank him. Of course, his words carry meaning with you. Sometimes, you feel as if Topper's the only person who really sees you, who attempts to understand who you are, not just what you've done.

"So," Topper starts again, shifting his position so he can pull something from his back pocket, "I forgot. We still need to figure out what to do with this."

He unfolds the picture of you and John B that you had handed him last night, watching as your smile falls completely. You reach over and gently take the photo from him, looking at the happy girl staring back at you. He had his arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you close to him. You remember that moment, and you can physically feel your heart squeezing in your chest.

Topper reaches over and pulls the picture away, noting your expression. You let him take it, not bothering to put up a fight.

"Come on, now. Didn't mean to put a damper on things. Maybe I should hold onto it for a little while-"

"No," you shake your head, "Just toss it. The next trash can you see, just get rid of it."

"Y/N-"

"I mean it, Top. Just get rid of it."

"All right," he nods his head, tucking the picture back into his pocket.

You lay back on your elbows, sand threatening to flood the towel. You shift your weight so no more sand gets on you, the grainy feeling underneath your elbows making you uncomfortable.

"So, what did Sarah say to you after I walked away last night?"

Topper snorts, laying back and copying your stance. You glance over at him, noting the way his hair is messed up from him constantly running his fingers through it.

"Oh, the usual," he shrugs, "I am the equivalent of gum stuck to her shoe, I think. It's like nothing ever even happened between us."

You sigh, "I felt that way with John B last night. He wouldn't even look at me."

"I'm sorry, Y/N," Topper says, his voice softer, "I know how that feels when it's fresh. It hurts like hell. Now, when I see Sarah, I just laugh. She's like - she's like a Venus flytrap. Always flaunting the new guy she's caught. She'll suck the soul right out of that poor sucker and then spit him out and move onto the next."

You know he's right, you'd seen Sarah do it a million times with guys all over the island. You remember how bad Topper had been when she left him. But, something about her next victim being John B makes the comparison to a Venus flytrap less funny to you.

"Yeah," you reply, barely above a whisper.

Silence falls over the two of you as you watch the ocean and think about John B. In his nice outfit at the Club last night, the way he had stayed dead silent when Sarah was disrespecting you. That wasn't him, that wasn't the John B you knew and loved. You suppose Sarah's already got her hooks in him, removing the parts of him you'd loved the most.

"So, Rafe kicked them out?" you question after a while, eyes trained on the ocean.

Topper chuckles, looking over at you, "I was wondering when you were gonna ask me about that."

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing," he says quickly, "It's just - Rafe seemed different. He's never thought twice about Sarah being a bitch to anyone. I don't know, maybe I'm thinking into it too much."

"I'm still not following your point, Top," you sigh.

"I don't know if I even have a point."

"You always have a point."

"Fair," he snickers, "Nah, I mean, he just seemed really pissed off for a guy who had just arrived. It wasn't like he knew what Sarah had said. He wasn't even there."

"Again, not catching your point."

Topper sighs, "Point is, he was mad. And I was confused, because he wasn't there one second, and the next he's dragging Sarah out by her arm and telling John B to get lost."

You steal a glance at him, swallowing before you speak, "What else did he say to them?"

Topper thinks for a moment, trying his best to remember. He recalls standing over the table, trying to read your shitty, scribbled writing of John B's order, when Rafe was suddenly looming over him with a clenched jaw.

"He didn't really say much. It was like, he looked at Sarah and she knew her fun time was over. He literally grabbed her arm and forced her up from the table, called John B a prick and told him to go back to the Cut, then escorted Sarah from the deck. He didn't want to make a huge scene, obviously, because any one of those people could've told Ward. But, I swear. If looks could kill, we'd be at a Cameron funeral right now."

You take a deep breath and look out at the ocean again, trying to picture it all going down. You're almost sorry you missed it. You would've loved to see the look on Sarah's face as she gets dragged from the Club.

"That's weird," you say, finally, "I'm not sure why he cared so much."

"Me neither," Topper shrugs, "He's probably just fed up with her games. Just like the rest of us."

You bite back your next question, hesitant if you should ask it or not. The way Rafe had ignored you at the Club is still sitting in the back of your mind; you'd been unable to let it go. You swallow, deciding that it's Topper you're asking.

"Did you notice how he didn't say one word to me at the Club?" you question, staring down at the melting ice cream now.

"Yeah. But, that's normal for you guys, right? I mean, I know you aren't his number one fan, or whatever."

You nod slowly, thinking about how he's right. You suppose you'd just gotten used to the way Rafe had talked to you at dinner the other night and then last night at the Club, and going back to nothing after that just took you by surprise.

"We should probably get going," Topper changes the subject, eyes flicking down to his watch.

You nod and stand up, collecting the ice cream bowl while Topper picks up the towel. You two start walking up the beach as your head spins from all the words Topper had said to you.

"Don't forget to throw that picture away."

"I won't."

College night comes and goes. Your mom had pushed you so hard to go, but you remained strong in your stance. You had camped out in your room that night, eating out of your snack drawer instead of going downstairs for dinner because you knew she'd make some smart comment. By the time Thursday night rolls around again, you wish you had a pass out of the weekly Cameron dinner.

You return to your normal outfit at your mother's insistence, a dress and light makeup. She'd given you a pass the past two weeks because of your breakup, but she didn't want the Camerons to think it would be a regular thing. It almost seems as if she cares more about what the Camerons think of her than what you do.

"You look beautiful," she tells you when you descend down the stairs.

You just give her a quick smile, then busy yourself by setting the table. When the doorbell rings, you make no move toward the door. You just inhale and adjust the napkin at your seat for the fourth time, trying to make yourself look busy.

"Look who decided to join the land of the living," your brother, Scott, mutters to you as he passes through the dining room to the foyer.

You roll your eyes, watching your mother shamelessly rush to join your father and your brother at the door. Silently, she waves her hand at you to come over and join them, but you pretend you don't see her.

You listen as they all greet the Camerons with their high pitched voices and hugs, making you want to throw up. You inch toward the foyer, smiling widely at Wheezie when she walks in. She sees you and smiles, rushing toward you.

"You look pretty," she complements you with a hug.

"Thanks, Wheeze. You, too. Love this purple," you smile, pointing down to her beautiful sundress.

"Thank you," she grins.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see him walk in. You look up before you can help it, watching as he gives your mom a wide smile and a hug. Sarah stands next to your father, no doubt charming him into loving her.

You're surprised when Rafe's eyes move to yours, as he had not given you the time of day at the Club last week. You watch as his eyes quickly skim over your body, taking in the dress you're wearing as best he could in one second. He swallows visibly, then brings his blue eyes back up to yours. He stares at you for a few seconds, then moves his glance back to your mother, who's been blabbing to him for minutes.

Eventually, your mom leads everyone into the dining room to sit. You're already seated when Rafe slides into his usual spot, not saying a word or looking over at you. You had never noticed the silence between the two of you until now; it almost feels deafening. Your brother sits down beside you, too, not looking at you. You know he's frustrated with the way you'd been acting the past two weeks, so you try to give him a grace period.

Dinner is served right then, Rafe passing the dish full of chicken to you without a word or a look. You're paying attention today, which both of you are grateful for. You steal glances at him for a while, wondering if he'll ever break the silence.

"Rafe, have you signed any new clients?" your father asks, sending you out of your trance.

You realize you've been staring at Rafe for a while, but with a quick glance around the table, you know nobody saw. You notice Sarah smiling in her lap and you instantly know she's on her phone. You roll your eyes, sure it's John B on the other end.

"Um, no, sir," Rafe speaks after he clears his throat.

You watch as your dad sends a look to Ward, as if he doesn't understand. You're not sure why Ward doesn't just tell the truth, but you're sure you already know the answer.

"Rafe's been taking a hiatus from work," Ward explains, "He has some things to figure out."

Rafe snorts beside you, earning yet another glance from you. You watch as this week, it's his turn to push his food around on the plate.

"You have a bright future, Rafe," your father encourages.

Rafe drops his fork onto his plate, the loud clatter earning the attention of everyone at the table. Even Sarah. He smiles smugly at your father, sending a look to Ward before he speaks again.

"Thank you, sir."

Everyone returns to normal, your mom and Rose breaking off into conversation, Sarah returning to her phone, and Scott trying his best to get involved with the business discussions of Ward and your father.

You look to Rafe again, noting the way his jaw is set and how his hands are folded together with his chin resting on top of them. You open your mouth to speak, but it gets drowned out by your mother.

"Sarah, did you go to college night?"

You sigh and throw your head back against your chair. Rafe tenses beside you, but he doesn't move his head or speak.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Did you enjoy yourself? Any schools jump out at you?"

Sarah glances at you and smirks, making your blood boil. You know that she knows you didn't go, so she's going to have fun with this one.

"Oh, yes. There were so many great schools. I particularly liked UGA and UNC. But, who knows. I'm just really glad I went. Helped me to narrow down my list of choices."

You clench your jaw and inhale sharply, fingers tightening their grip around your fork. You listen to your mother sigh, then sit back in her chair.

"I told Y/N she should go. She just didn't listen."

She sends a glance your way, but you don't meet it. You stare down at your plate, the food no longer looking appetizing. Silence falls over your end of the table, Sarah proud of herself.

"This chicken is delicious," Rafe speaks up, earning your attention.

"Thank you, Rafe," your mom smiles, "It's an old recipe."

"You'll have to give it to Rose," he nods.

You look over to him, wondering if he was trying to save you or if he was just being friendly. Your suspicions are confirmed when he finally steals a glance at you, only for half a second, to make sure you're okay. When your eyes meet his, you're sure it was intentional.

The glance is the extent of your conversation with Rafe through dinner. Once everyone retires into the living room for a glass of wine, you step out onto the back patio. The lights from the pool are the only thing that light up the space, but you don't mind. You step over to it and stick your feet in, aimlessly splashing the water around.

You're not surprised when you hear the back door open, forcing you to close your eyes and take a deep breath. The hair on the back of your neck stands up, and you're sure it's Rafe without having to think twice. You listen to his footsteps as they approach you, exhaling when he sits down beside you.

He sinks his feet down in the water, his thigh brushing yours slightly as he gets his bearings. You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, surprised when he holds a wine glass out to you in his right hand. He doesn't speak, doesn't look over, just holds it out in front of you. You reach out and take it, silently taking note of how he doesn't yank his hand away when your fingers brush.

"Thanks," you say sheepishly, bringing the glass up to your lips.

He hums in response, sipping from his own glass.

"How's your hiatus going?" you attempt.

His face doesn't change, "Don't wanna talk about it."

You exhale and nod slightly, glancing down at the wine glass in your hand. His has more in it than yours does, but you're sure that's only because his tolerance is so high. You move your legs around, splashing the water.

"Stop," Rafe snaps, but his voice sounds half-hearted, "You're splashing me."

You take another sip of wine before you speak, "So, you're really back to hating me, huh? Say what you will about Rafe Cameron, but he obviously doesn't go back on his word."

You recall last week in your kitchen, when he told you he'd be back to giving you a hard time the following week.

"What the hell does that mean?" he questions, turning his head to look at you.

"Nothing."

Your voice sounds annoyed and frustrated, which causes Rafe to let out a heavy sigh. He takes a long gulp of his wine, then laughs to himself and shakes his head.

"So, you're mad when I'm nice to you, and you're mad when I'm mean to you. What am I supposed to do here?"

"I didn't say I was mad," you counter.

"Well, you're clearly not happy."

"Yeah," you nod, "Because you're being a dick."

"That's what you wanted, remember?" he raises his voice at you now, regretting it when he sees you flinch.

You don't speak right away, you let the silence linger. Rafe runs a hand through his hair, sighing in frustration.

"So, that's why you completely ignored me at the Club with Topper," you figure out.

Of course he had heard you say goodbye to him. You feel like a fool for ever believing that Rafe Cameron wouldn't be paying attention.

"Yep," he replies, popping the 'p'. It pops louder than usual because of the wine covering his lips.

"I wasn't a big fan of that, just so you know."

You voice is lighter, as you're trying to ease some of the tension. You can tell you're successful when you watch Rafe make every attempt in the world to suppress the smile threatening the ends of his lips.

"The princess has spoken," he replies, taking another drink from his glass. Even though he started off with almost double what he gave you, your glasses are just about even.

You smile, shaking your head. Swirling the wine around in your glass, you think about what you want to say next.

"Maybe I was wrong," you decide to say, watching his head snap over to you.

"What do you mean?"

"I-"

The back door opens forcefully, Sarah's high-pitched voice ringing through your quiet moment.

"Rafe! Dad says five minutes. Might wanna sneak those wine glasses back inside before someone notices."

She's teasing you both and you know it, but thankfully, she just closes the back door once more. Rafe exhales and then downs about half of his wine in one sip.

"Please, continue," he encourages, voice broken up from the bitter taste of the alcohol burning his tongue.

"I don't remember what I was saying," your face flushes. Rafe shakes his head immediately.

"Yes, you do."

His voice is matter-of-fact. As if he doesn't buy into your excuse for one second. You're thankful it's dark outside so he can't see you pink cheeks.

"Um," you hesitate, taking another gulp of wine for encouragement, "Maybe, I don't know. We could just try and be friends, or something."

"Or something?" he raises his eyebrow, gaze fully settled on you now. He almost looks amused at how uncomfortable you are.

"Rafe," you whine, "I'm being serious."

"Here I was thinking I was being punked," he jokes, smirking.

You roll your eyes, pulling your legs from the water, "Oh, forget it."

"No," he grabs ahold of your arm before you can rise, watching as you immediately settle back into your spot, "Come on. I'm just messing with you. Or, can I not do that anymore, either? You're gonna have to write me a rulebook."

"I will."

"I know," he snorts. You notice how he still hasn't unwrapped his fingers from around your forearm, even though there's no threat of you leaving anymore, "I, uh, wouldn't mind it. Trying to be friends, I mean."

You smile before you can help it, feeling as his fingers slowly unwrap themselves from your arm. He brushes the pads of his fingers against your skin as he pulls his hand away, making you shiver. He grins, too, but he moves his head so he's looking at the water instead of you.

"Okay," you reply, biting your lip.

"Top talks about you enough. There's gotta be something good about you, I guess."

You roll your eyes, "Maybe just a couple things."

He laughs, finishing off his wine. You watch as he drains the glass, then take a long sip from yours as well. You finish your own glass with one last gulp, swallowing roughly as the wine goes down your throat.

The back door is thrown open again, and you hear Rafe groan quietly.

"Rafe," Sarah grunts, annoyance heavy in her voice.

"I'll be right there," he replies to her.

"Now," she hisses, "Dad says-"

"I'll be right there, Sarah," he raises his voice, turning around to look at her so she knows he's serious.

"John B says hi, Y/N," Sarah remarks before she slams the back door shut again.

You roll your eyes, wishing you had more wine to swallow as your mind falls right back to your ex-boyfriend again.

"Sorry," Rafe mumbles.

"You should go," you say quietly, "I'll take care of the wine glasses."

"Be careful. Your dad would kick my ass if he found out I gave you a drink," he smirks, winking at you when you look up to meet his eyes.

He drags his legs out of the pool and then stands, watching you do the same. You adjust your dress once you stand, smoothing it out.

"You look good," he blurts out, mouth parting slightly when he realizes he said that out loud.

You laugh when he looks down at the ground, then scratches the back of his neck as he tries to figure out a way to recover. When he meets your eyes again, you smile softly at him as if to thank him.

"Goodnight, Rafe."

He returns your small smile, giving you one back. You bite the inside of your cheek as he hands over his empty wine glass, never taking his eyes off of yours. You take the glass from him, swallowing when he takes a step forward.

"Goodnight," he whispers. You can feel his breath slightly on your cheek, giving you chills.

And as you lie in your bed later, replaying the entire night in your head, you realize it's the first night in about three weeks that you haven't cried, that you haven't sobbed and begged and wanted John B. It's the first night that you feel hopeful; happy even.

But you just can't quite put your finger on why.

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coderfortourette · 2 years ago

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Popping, Calls, and Exhaustion

Alright so I’ve been thinking about the states ability to Pop different places. And how they can Call each other to meetings. Here’s how I think it works.

Popping

Popping is when the states “teleport” around. They Pop. And they can do so anywhere, they don’t need to have been to the place before or know what it looks like or anything.

But that doesn’t mean there aren’t limitations. For example, Popping takes energy. Most of the time. If a personification is Popping around their own state, it takes no energy at all. However Popping out of their state does take energy. The amount of energy is dependent on where the Popping is happening. (a state’s natural energy levels are proportionate to their state population. So California has the most energy. Wyoming has the least)

Say Georgia and Washington are in Florida. If Georgia Popped around in Florida, it would take some energy, but not a whole lot. Meanwhile it would take over twice as much energy for Washington. Because physically Georgia is closer to his state than Washington is. So it’s not as strenuous.

Energy regains passively over time. Like how sitting down after a long walk helps.

States can bring other people/personifications with them when they Pop. But it takes a lot more energy to do so than regular Popping.

Calls

Calls are when a state says something, and it causes another state to show up. A Call is like a ping in the state’s brain. That’s how they know where to go and roughly who would be there.

States have more than one Call. That’s part of how they know who is Calling them. For example, the Call Gov used for Nevada. Anybody could use it, but only Gov does, and that’s why NV knew it was Gov Calling and he had to show up.

States don’t have to answer Calls. They can ignore them. Just, usually they do answer. Because if you don’t respond to a Call then the other person knows you’re ignoring them (I’ll get to emergency situations in a bit)

There is a stronger version of a Call. That’s a Summon. It forces the state to actually appear right then. However, it requires the Summoned state to have enough energy to make the Pop. At least 50% of the way. Then the rest of the Summon would use the Summoner’s energy.

So for example. California and Virginia. Say there’s a meeting in Virginia. Somebody Summons California to the meeting. However California is in his own state at this time. When he’s summoned, the Summon will only work California has energy that would get him from his state to Oklahoma (the midway). Then the Summoner would need to supply the energy for the part from Oklahoma to Virginia.

Exhaustion

This is not a concept in canon, but I thought it would be interesting to add to show the tradeoffs of being able to teleport literally anywhere.

Exhaustion is a state where a state is completely out of energy. Like, overused and dipped into energy they don’t have. It’s not good. And the only way to heal from Exhaustion is to be back in your own state.

In Exhaustion, a state is in lots of pain, is very cold, shaking, and usually passed out. Being awake would just be no fun. A state cannot answer Calls in this state. So if somebody Called for them, the Call would just Rebound. Kinda like a game of Marco Polo, the Rebound does give an idea of how far away an Exhausted state is. (Which is good, because they’d need assistance in getting back to their home)

(A state in an emergency situation where they’re trapped somewhere can also send Rebounds. They may have energy, but they’re too sick/inured/in a bad enough situation that they can’t just Pop out. )

Exhaustion is rare. It takes a lot of Popping to even get close to Exhaustion. The most common reason for it would be a state not paying attention to their energy levels. But occasionally a state can induce Exhaustion by Popping around on purpose. However if this happens, usually the state would have to attend a few sessions of therapy at least after they healed up.

#welcome to the table #welcome to the statehouse #ben brainard #wttt #wttsh #long post #theory

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cloverrover · 3 years ago

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History Drunk

AN: to the last anon I have, pls send me more requests y'all, I will post it end of tomorrow at the latest. Inspiration for it hasn't hit until now but alas. Until then I wanted to post this because other than my classes and work I've have inspo for nothing else

Warnings: cursing, fluff, slight angst? not beta read so

WC: 748

“Welcome. My friends. History! As you drunk it.” You watch your boyfriend, speak to the camera, making sure that he doesn’t accidentally knock anything over.

Somehow you had gotten Simu to agree to an episode of Drunk History and now you were here, working, in your apartment with a drunk as shit Simu rambling about Genghis Khan and thinking that it’s ok for him to knock over the lamp you had gotten for Christmas.

“Babe. Don’t knock the lamp over.” Looking at him, you give him a hard stare, one that rarely comes out and only when there’s something extremely stupid going on.

“So Khan. Right? Fearsome warrior.”

You’re trying to focus on your job, being a production assistant and all, while also making sure your boyfriend doesn’t out the relationship more than he already has. You had to explain to your bosses why the address Simu had given them, was the same and the one listed in your file. So you weren’t looking forward to editing how much you know you’ll need to.

“Now, how many Marco Polos went to Khan?” He’s smiling at you like you’d know he was talking about the show. And you knew he was talking about the show, something you had wanted to watch with him. But he didn’t need to know that you knew.

“Right babe?” He’s pointing at you now. “You know. Cuz of the show?”

Now he’s giggling much like a school girl trying to hide the obvious glitter mess she made.

“Baby I gotta help work on this episode, then we can cuddle.” You tell him when he starts to make grabby hands at you. But then you still refuse, and he’s pouting. He’ pouting, while your coworkers and bosses are laughing, and this grown man is pouting like a child.

You’re staring at him like he’s grown 3 heads. And to him, maybe he had. But all he knew was that he was happy, was floating, and you were there.

“So right, absolute loyalty, the kind a girl wishes her frat boy had,” insert hiccup, “but he had all kinds of loyalty surround him. Do you know why?” He’s asking you directly, and you know then and there you won’t be working much now. Your goal is to get him to not make too much a fool of himself, or you, and to get through this unscathed.

“Why is that babe?” You sit with him on the couch, giving your work friends a glance they know that tells them they won’t be having your help for the rest of the filming.

“Because,” hiccup, “he was generous. He let those practice their religion, freely, so long as they ultimately bowed down to the great Khan. The Khan ruled all of Mongolia, and if they respected Mongolia, he respected them!”

Mans’ is straight giggling at this point, and, while he isn’t wrong, he’s a giggling mess and you can’t wait to see the episode when it airs. And eventually he moves on through history, though prompted most of the time. The crew is beginning to pack things up when you try to make your way to your room to set aside a few items, when a warm body stops you.

“You should know I have a girlfriend, and this is a no zone.”

Oh Lordie is your boy drunk, and drunk is he entertaining. He doesn’t drink often, so whenever the opportunity arises to watch drunken antics, you cherish it. Even if you don’t drink much yourself. But you’re tired and just want to get in bed, and Simu isn’t letting you.

“Babe I know you have a girlfriend. I am said girlfriend.” Pointing at the picture of the two of you on the wall, Simu only squints at it before a big smile takes over his face. Next thing you know he’s got you in a bear hug and mumbling drunken words about how the love of his is back and how much he missed you.

By the time you’ve finished your nightly routine and go back to the bedroom, Simu is snoring on the mattress. You’re leaning against the doorframe and take a minute to just look at him. You know this man is your endgame. Even when you move, practically, dead weight underneath the covers so he doesn’t get cold in the night. Even when he’s giggling into your neck when you cuddle in close. Even when you’re fighting about nothing and everything important.

Even when.

#simu liu imagine #shang chi #shang-chi imagine #shang chi x reader #simu liu x reader #simu liu fluff #simu x reader #shangqi x reader #I love him so much

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themurphyzone · 4 years ago

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Nova Ch 10

AN: I think that reunion with Snowball went pretty well!

Ch 10: White Dwarves

AO3 Link, FFN Link

Terran Date 2015.4.26

I’m stuck in a backwater lab with an idiot who believes you can transform a rock into gold by spray painting it. Nothing else worth reporting.

o-o-o-o-o

Pinky winced as Brain slammed his hand against the computer mouse, saving the oddly brief recording to the computer. He didn’t bother with his usual sign-off either. Just buried his face between his hands and growled to himself.

Brain had been in a foul mood ever since the tea party, snapping whenever Pinky tried to ask a question and making messes without bothering to clean up after himself. He wasn’t the only one affected by Snowball suddenly leaving. Madame Daisy was still pretty miffed about Snowball’s lack of etiquette when he didn’t say goodbye to the other guests or say thank you to the host. And Brain hadn’t done those either.

Maybe Pinky should’ve warned them about Madame Daisy being a stickler for tea party etiquette.

But more importantly, the deadline for RSVPing was tomorrow at 8 pm and they still hadn’t called Lamont Manor. More than once, Pinky brought it up in conversation and left post-it notes as reminders, but Brain always shut the topic down and shredded the notes into confetti.

It stung when he did that, but Pinky shook it off and saved the itty-bitty scraps. One never knew when they’d need good confetti.

Pinky’s ears twitched towards the cage at the sound of Brain’s groan. Brain had already drained a full water bottle and was steadily working his way through a second. While Pinky was happy his alien friend had gotten used to water, mostly so they could play Marco Polo and waterski with popsicle sticks, maybe there was such a thing as too much water.

“Brain?” Pinky called, nearly slipping on a puddle. He frowned. There were several puddles and no sign of Brain at least trying to keep this side of the cage neat. “Er, don’t you think that’s enough? Awfully hard to sleep if you have to keep getting up for the bathroom.”

“Just leave me alone,” Brain muttered. He sipped from the tube again without taking his glare off Pinky. Water dribbled down his chin.

No, he was absolutely not leaving Brain alone! Pinky stomped his foot, startling Brain when he tried to sneak another drink.

“That’s it!” Pinky shouted. He tugged his ears and released them with a sharp snap. “I’m gonna give you tough love whether you like it or not, mistah!”

Before Brain could react, Pinky snatched him away from the water bottle and tucked him under one arm like he was cradling a football. Brain kicked and squirmed in his grip, trying to smack him with his tail, but Pinky had a firm hold. With his free hand, he pulled a fedora off the coat rack as he marched out of the cage and over to the stereo.

It was a little worn from age, but it still worked alright.

He dropped Brain, who let out a little oomph when his stomach hit the counter. Smacking the play button with his foot, Pinky kept one hand on his fedora as he counted the beats until the main melody began.

“Just say narf! Just say narf!

Don’t you know to be glad? Just say narf!

Every day is a joy and so-”

The music shut off.

Surprised by the lack of background music, Pinky checked behind him, arms still thrown above his head with the fedora hanging from one hand.

Brain stood in front of the stereo, his hand over the stop button. “Just what in Orion’s belt are you trying to accomplish with this display?” he snapped, crossing his arms.

“You’ve been a grumpasaurus rex ever since the tea party! So I’m cheering you up with one of my favorite songs!” Pinky protested.

“You can’t cheer me up by manhandling me and saying nonsense!” Brain yelled.

“I said narf, not nonsense!”

“They’re synonymous!”

“No, they’re not! They agreed they could date other people and they still have a trusting relationship! And you wanna know what else? They actually clean up after themselves too!”

“GAH!”

“TROZ!”

Their noses were just a few inches apart, chests huffing and puffing like they were about to blow the Three Little Pigs’ houses down. Brain broke away from the staredown first, clasping his hands behind his back as he sulked.

Pinky counted one Mississippi, five Mississippis, and seventeen Mississippi’s, his hand against his racing heart as he breathed in and out to calm down. And why did they only count Mississippi? Why not Alabama, Georgia, or Papua New Guinea?

Brain was a closed book at the best of times, it seemed. One of those heavy textbooks with lots of big words, not a happy, colorful picture book like Pat the Bunny.

But he wasn’t a good actor, though he pretended to be above happiness, fear, and sorrow.

“You know you can talk to me, right? About your feelings or world domination or secret crushes. Anything you want,” Pinky said, wringing his tail in his hands. It looked like a very sad, wiggling worm under his fingers. The smooth surface under his fingers helped a little, but it didn’t replace a full snout hug from Pharfignewton. “I...I was just trying to help.”

“World domination is the only topic worth discussing out of everything you said. Emotions are irrelevant,” Brain said. There was still a bite in his tone, but not much. He rubbed his arm, feet shuffling uncomfortably. “So you were truthful about wanting to...assist during my period of inactivity?”

Pinky tilted his head. “Why would I lie about wanting to help? That would be mean, Brain.”

“Helping is just another way of ensuring someone owes a favor. Or it would be mutually beneficial to all parties involved,” Brain replied. His sharp gaze snapped back to Pinky. “Our deal is just one example out of many.”

“What about helping you cause I wanted you to feel better?”

Didn’t that count? He didn’t know why Brain was making it all so complicated.

“As I stated before, your song was nonsense and your method was invasive.” Brain shot a disdainful glare at the stereo. “But I can’t entirely fault you for your intentions, however misguided, though I suggest having a concrete reward in mind next time.”

Pinky grinned and let go of his tail. “Oh, that’s easy! Lemme grab a chunk of concrete off the street!”

Brain sighed, stomping over to a top drawer, perching on the edge of the counter as he slid it open. “That won’t be necessary, Pinky.”

“Looking for something, Brain?” Pinky asked.

“I can find it on my own!” Brain tried to wave him off, but overbalanced and fell into the open drawer, landing on his stomach with a muffled oomph. He spat a scrap of paper out of his mouth, kicking a red pen aside as he rolled onto his back.

Pinky’s fingers drummed on the counter as he peered down at Brain. A light cherry color coated his sagging cheeks.

“I’d rather direct my focus somewhere else for the time being.” Brain wasn’t making eye contact with Pinky. Which was a shame, because his eyes were the prettiest shade of pink. “I don’t require anything else after you point me to the cleaning supplies.”

Pinky blinked at him in surprise, but they were getting somewhere now! He could do a cartwheel, kiss a cockatoo, and dance the Macarena! Maybe not in that order, or all at once, but there’s a first time for everything!

A smile spread across Pinky’s face, and he couldn’t help but laugh when Brain’s head began to resemble a lumpy tomato.

o-o-o-o-o

Several hours later, Pinky yawned as the first rays of sunlight gently crept across the bed. The distant sounds of cars caught in traffic on the nearby bridge combined with the gentle thrum of lab technology formed the usual background noises, greeting him with a new day. Freeing his legs and tail from the blanket, he dipped into a luxurious, catlike stretch, arching his back and raising his rear end and tail as high as they would go.

“Wakey-wakey, Brain! Narf!” Pinky exclaimed as he shook Brain’s shoulder.

Brain mumbled to himself and buried his head into his pillow, curling into a very tight cocoon to block out the light. If Brain wanted to hatch into a pretty butterfly, he needed all the rest he could get, so Pinky left him alone.

But it was worth a shot, even if Brain wasn’t a morning mouse.

Pinky ate a plateful of food pellets for a quick breakfast, then washed it down with water. The area around the water bottle was puddle-free and mostly clean, save for a stubborn stain on a cage bar by the floor. But that spot gave Pinky plenty of trouble too, so he didn’t hold it against Brain.

He coaxed a drop of water out of the tubing and splashed it on his face, then squeezed through the cage bars, hands behind his back as he strolled over to the cap Snowball had given him.

He’d spent most of his time decorating it with whatever he could find for the past few days. Glittery, colorful letters that spelled Pharfignewton were glued across the brim, give or take a few letters. Her name was so long that it didn’t fit and the ‘ewton’ was on a separate row beneath the rest. Feathers, ribbons, and encouraging messages on sticky notes covered the blue fabric.

It was coming along nicely. Pinky backed up a few steps, sticking out his tongue and placing his fingers together like he was taking a picture.

“Just needs a little something,” Pinky murmured, tapping his chin to get the idea muscle in his head working. It usually worked best after he ate, so coming up with something should be a cinch!

Then he snapped his fingers together, a little lightbulb flickering overhead with a satisfying click. Wait, no, no. That was just the light turning on cause a sleepy scientist trudged in, dragging his feet to the kitchen. He didn’t see Pinky waving good morning to him.

Hopefully the man liked decaf, because they were all out of regular coffee.

Pinky folded red tissue paper into a rose, then repeated the step with purple tissue paper. “Thank you, DIY craft videos on Youtube!” he hummed.

He needed more roses to go all the way around. Kentucky Derby hats were always decked out with pretty roses. Oh, he could arrange the roses into a pretty red-purple-red-purple pattern!

And toss some glitter onto the roses too! Can’t go wrong with glitter!

He dumped a generous amount of pink glitter on his rose and glued it to the hat.

More scientists trickled in, shuffling off to the kitchen in search of coffee and once again ignoring Pinky and his pretty hat. They didn’t seem too keen on coming today. He couldn’t imagine why. Monday was such a lovely day and it never got the appreciation it deserved.

Since they had a bad habit of moving items around so Pinky could never find them, he hid his unfinished hat in the back of a large drawer. Nobody ever looked there anyway.

He hauled himself out of the drawer. As he climbed back to the counter, he paused to admire the calendar picture of Mickey Mouse giving flowers to Minnie. Beneath it, the box for April 27 was circled in glittery blue.

Right, wasn’t there something they were supposed to do today?

RSVP BY 8 PM! NARF!

Right, they still had stuff to do if they were gonna have the best weekend ever! They still had to find costumes for the masquerade ball! Especially the masks! Masks were the most important part!

And they had to call soon, or they wouldn’t be able to go.

“Brain!” Pinky shouted as he ran inside the cage, snatching up the invitation card from the corner. Brain was out of bed and trying to eat a food pellet, though his expression was pinched from the dryness of his breakfast. “Oh, that brand is pretty dry. That’s why I saute it in three-and-one oil first. Anyway, you’re already up?”

Brain scowled and swallowed his morsel with difficulty. “How can I possibly sleep with all this racket?”

A cupboard slammed down the hall, followed by loud profanity that would’ve made Pinky’s grandmother clutch her pearls and faint.

Apparently, nobody wanted decaf.

Pinky held the invitation close to a scowling Brain. “See? We’ve gotta call now or they won’t let us in! Then we won’t be able to swim in the chocolate fountain or admire the ice sculptures!”

Brain shoved the card away from his face. “Heaven forbid we miss those banal activities,” he replied, pressing two hands to his cheeks.

“Exactly!” Pinky’s tail twitched in anticipation. “And we still need fancy outfits and masks!”

Brain took another food pellet, grimaced, and tossed it back into the bowl. Then he sighed and rubbed his temples. “This is a rather asinine plan, Snowball,” he muttered. “Come again?” Pinky asked. He could’ve sworn Brain said Snowball’s name.

Which was weird, because Snowball wasn’t even here. Unless Brain named the food bowl Snowball. That made more sense.

“Never mind, Pinky,” Brain sighed. “Forgive me for my reservations.”

“But we haven’t made those reservations yet,” Pinky said. Brain didn’t reply, too focused on valiantly keeping his breakfast down. Then Brain drank from the water bottle, careful not to splash too much. Once he finished, he headed to the cage door, and Pinky dutifully followed. He hopped from toe to toe as Brain unlocked the door with a bent paper clip. “Can I place the call, Brain?”

“This is a delicate operation, Pinky,” Brain replied. “We must use our given aliases so that we won’t be found out prematurely. I can’t risk you blabbing our true identities, so I’ll speak to our less than gracious host myself. Now, hand over the card.”

It was true.

He wasn’t a good liar at all.

Pinky held out the card, but before Brain could take it, a balding man with a bad combover and rumpled labcoat tried to yank him out of the cage by his crooked tail. The scientist yelped in pain as the orb sparked in his hand, leaving red marks on his skin. Startled, Freed from his grip, Brain leapt forward and tripped over himself. Pinky dropped the card and caught Brain by the shoulders before he could slam nose-first into the metal floor.

The red orbs on Brain’s antennae glowed for several seconds before fading away. Then Brain regained his footing and gave Pinky a brief nod as thanks, quickly pulling away to recollect himself.

The contact ended all too soon.

The man flicked his hand to get rid of the shock, muttering to himself as he pulled on a pair of rubber gloves.

“What’s going on?” Brain snapped. “We have important business to conduct!”

“Don’t worry, Brain. It’s just Maze Monday!” Pinky said, fixing his messy tuft as best he could without a mirror. He had to look his best for maze running! “We’ll call afterward!”

The scientist reached in again. Though Brain defiantly stood in the corner away from him, it was no use and he was pulled out of the cage. He dangled in the scientist’s gloved hand by the tail, grumpy at his current position.

Pinky was next. He swung from the scientist’s other hand as he was lifted into the air, pumping his legs back and forth like he was on an upside down swing. Giggling, he reached out and tried to touch Brain’s ears, though he was several inches short.

With one mouse dangling from each hand, the scientist walked out of the room and carried them down the hallway. They passed the college interns who were more interested in selfies than work, the security guard who was always shouting about evil rodents and their master plan to hoard the world’s entire cheese supply for themselves, and a bored female scientist who looked like she’d rather be anywhere else but here.

The scientist entered a room on his left. Along the wall, several guinea pigs rested in their cages. Pinky waved to them, but since he didn’t have any food, the guinea pigs weren’t interested.

They were dropped at the start of a large cardboard maze. The scientist adjusted the cameras mounted above the maze, then left the room.

Just him and Brain now.

“Your scientists display a disturbing lack of regard for our tails,” Brain grumbled, rubbing the soreness out of one zigzagged bend. “Not that Selenians were any better.”

“But if they hold the tip just right, you can swing around like a little monkey!” Pinky said. “I mean, my rear gets a bit sore too, and sometimes you might crash into a wall, but it’s still loads of fun! Haven’t you ever tried it, Brain?”

“While that activity is suitable for inane creatures, it doesn’t befit a future world emperor to behave in such an embarrassing manner.” Brain dusted off his jumpsuit, though it was recently washed and wasn’t particularly dirty. “But I digress. We must focus on surviving this perilous maze so that we may RSVP to the event in time.”

Perilous?

But he didn’t see any pearls anywhere. It was just cardboard and metal as far as the eye could see. Pearls would’ve brightened this drab maze a lot.

There were four directions to pick from. Pinky scratched his head. Which one?

The left path looked fun, but the one behind and in front were dimly lit. Which left the right path. And since it was right, that meant it was the right way!

“Let’s go! The right path is always right! Zort!” Pinky exclaimed. He walked to the right path, but Brain hauled him back by the elbow.

“Don’t assume the direction and the certainty of success are one and the same, Pinky,” Brain said firmly. “We have to take precautions.”

Pinky didn’t think they had to be careful though. There wasn’t anyone else here. Unless the guinea pigs counted, but they weren’t in the maze.

His usual strategy was to run around silly-willy until he found the snack at the end. But in all his years, he’d never actually found the snack. Usually he just ran into walls and daydreamed about cheese until a nice scientist got him out.

And cheese kept the spookiness away.

“There’s nobody here but us,” Pinky said.

“There’s nobody visible in this maze but us,” Brain corrected. “If we’re not careful, we could fall victim to traps. Enough arguing, Pinky. We’re taking the left fork.”

There weren’t any forks to take, nor anything to eat using a fork, but at least Brain was nice enough to drag Pinky down his second choice instead of the dimly lit paths.

Brain stuck close to the walls, grabbing Pinky’s wrist to ensure he did the same. As they came upon a T-section where they could either turn left or right, Brain carefully held his antennae back with his free hand and poked his head around the corner. Pinky tried to lean over Brain to see what was so interesting, but a sharp nudge kept him back.

“Whatcha looking for?” Pinky asked. “Besides cardboard.”

“Bright, confined areas are the safest,” Brain said. “It’s not a complete guarantee, but you can at least watch for disturbances on the floor or wall. We’ll head right. I can’t see the end of the left corridor from here.”

He let go of Pinky’s wrist, but gave him stern instructions to stay along the wall. It was just like giving the wall a really long hug, and Pinky licked the wall to thank it for hugging back.

Huh. So cardboard tastes like cardboard then. Not bad, but it could definitely use some parsley.

Halfway down the corridor, Brain’s breath suddenly hitched. He stared at the floor in front of them, where one edge of the cardboard was a little higher than the other. The line spanned the entire length between the two walls.

“Don’t get too close,” Brain said, pushing Pinky back before he could step on it. “Remember, strange patterns in the structure might reveal the location of a trap.”

It looked like a normal ledge though. Completely harmless.

But if the trap only worked when they stepped on it...then the trick was to not step on it!

Brain let go of Pinky’s wrist as he pondered their next course of action. Taking his chances, Pinky backed up several paces, keeping his eye on the line he couldn’t touch.

Then he sprinted forward, ignoring Brain’s shout for him to stop.

Pinky leapt as high as he could, easily clearing the line. Though he couldn’t quite stick the landing and toppled forward as soon as he touched the ground.

Still had to work on his weak ankles.

Hopping to his feet, Pinky turned to a flabbergasted Brain. Ha! He loved that word. Flabbergasted! Too bad it was a bit long for a catchphrase.

Instead of being impressed, Brain glared at him.

“Do you have any idea how dangerous your stunt was?” Brain shouted. “You could’ve been severely incapacitated!”

Pinky stretched his legs to test his ankles, but they felt alright. No harm done.

“Narf! But my ankles are fine! See?” Pinky shook his ankles so Brain could see they weren’t hurt.

“And if there was a motion sensor?” Brain snapped. “Did you consider the possibility of spikes, projectiles, or electrocution?”

“Um…”

The scientists wouldn’t be mean enough to put those in a maze. Of course, sometimes they’d forget to take him out when he couldn’t find the exit, and he’d lay in the maze alone and listen to the lab’s scary nighttime noises, but he’d never seen spikes during these tests before.

“Thought so,” Brain said. There was something odd about the way his hand twitched towards his tail.

Like he had personal experience.

“Have you ever been caught in a trap before?” Pinky asked before he could stop himself.

Too much?

Brain folded his arms and lifted his chin, pink eyes narrowing at Pinky. Probably not then. Brain was too smart for that.

And definitely clever enough to find his way to the exit and not get stuck overnight.

Then Brain turned around so Pinky could see all the zigzags in his tail.

“Electrocution trap,” Brain said, his ears lowering. “An overload of electricity can be fatal for my species, though we’re naturally resistant to smaller shocks. I was...less experienced back then.”

There was more. Brain wasn’t telling him how much it hurt.

But Brain tensed, a silent warning not to push any further.

“They didn’t leave you in the maze overnight, did they?” Pinky asked. Brain went dangerously still.

Oh, there he went running his mouth again! Why couldn’t his mouth be good and stay zipped?

“Sorry, Brain. You don’t have to answer. It’s fine, really!” Pinky hastily corrected himself. “But if they did-”

"No, they didn't," Brain said, surprising Pinky with how much he was revealing. "They kept a strict count of all their test subjects, and preserving them was far more preferable to losing a valuable limited resource. Small mercies, I suppose.”

“Oh. Well...that’s good.” Pinky rubbed the back of his neck. He was glad Brain never had to deal with that. He wouldn’t wish it on anybody, not even that stubborn stain he could never rub out from the cage bars. “Poit.”

Brain turned back to Pinky and looked at the line between them. Then he hopped over it, bracing himself for a shock. When no electricity appeared, he seemed surprised, though he immediately tried to school his expression into a neutral one. He walked past Pinky and refused an invitation to hug it out.

They had to turn left at the next intersection since the right led to a dead end. Then they reached an open room with a cardboard path and a metal path. Brain chose the metal path, but stopped where the rough paper met cool metal. Pinky stopped behind him.

“Pinky?” Brain said. He didn’t turn around. “Were you left in a maze overnight?”

“Sometimes,” Pinky admitted. Was he worrying Brain? He didn’t want Brain to worry! “But it’s not so bad when you imagine all the cheese you’ll eat at the end, even if you never reach it. But cheese keeps the ghosts away, you know. They don’t like the smell.”

If he imagined cheese, he wouldn’t imagine long, crooked witch fingers trying to pluck him out. Or the loud air conditioning system which clicked on and off every few minutes, the ghostly breeze echoing down the hallway. Or how he called for his parents and Sis to come share a yummy feast with him, though they never came.

“That’s horribly negligent on the humans’ end.”

And that was all the talk Brain allowed on the matter.

o-o-o-o-o

The maze was a lot longer than they thought. Just when Pinky believed they’d reached the cheese, there was always some new twist that set them back.

What time was it? Though he couldn’t see the clock, it had to be around lunchtime right now. Pinky’s stomach growled, sounding a lot like Brain in one of his moods.

He’d give an arm and a leg for a few food pellets. Or some cheese. Even a leaf.

Brain was tiring out too. His footsteps were heavier and slower. But he kept at it.

Right, focus on the goal. Focus on the yummy cheese.

What kind would they get? Moldy? Blue? Provolone? All of those sounded pretty good, but Pinky thought his stomach was calling for pepperjack. Oh wait, no, maybe it was gorgonzola.

His stomach grumbled again. Okay, it was definitely muenster this time.

They came across a path with a thick sheet of metal on top. So dark that they couldn’t see a thing in front of them. Brain took a deep breath and stuck a hand in the darkness. They only saw his wrist.

His fingers were completely swallowed by the inky, hungry darkness.

Brain took his hand out.

Oh. Not swallowed then. All his fingers were still there.

“We’ve exhausted all our options,” Brain said, pounding his fist into his hand in determination. But even that gesture couldn’t hide how he stuck to the wall like glue. Pinky didn’t blame him. It was awfully dark in there. What if they went in and were never found again? “Taking this path is absolutely necessary if we’re to make it out of this labyrinth in time.”

But they couldn’t see the traps. It wasn’t safe.

Unless…

“Brain, your orbs!” Pinky exclaimed, gently tapping an antenna. “If you make ‘em glow, we won’t get lost or fall into a trap!”

Brain didn’t look so sure. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Not a terrible suggestion for once, Pinky. Unfortunately, it’s not something I have voluntary control over. It’s a hormonal response that occurs when I’m...well, happy.”

“So we’ll just have to make you happy enough for your orbs to glow,” Pinky said.

With what? Brain raised an eyebrow, the silent question obvious.

Then Pinky snapped his fingers. He knew what to do! He'd sing Just Say Narf!

Except he was trying to make Brain happy, not himself.

A no-go then.

Cream cheese and blueberry bagels? Out of reach.

Pinky tapped his chin. This was harder than he thought.

Brain sat against the wall, eyes squeezed shut and hands rubbing circles into his large forehead. “Statues, parades, my jewel-encrusted cummerbund…” he murmured.

He was doing one of those smartypants things. Too smart for Pinky to understand.

Brain growled and opened his eyes in irritation. “Cease your staring at once, Pinky. I’m trying to concentrate.”

“On what?” Pinky asked.

“World domination of course,” Brain said, smacking his ear like he was dumping extra thoughts out of his chubby head. “Accomplishing a goal would naturally bring anyone contentment.”

Pinky zipped his lip and threw away the key, then sat against the wall across from Brain and waited.

Yet Brain’s orbs didn’t glow.

Pinky drummed his fingers against his leg. When he drummed all the songs he knew, he tried to lick his elbow. Except his elbow didn’t want to be licked. He leaned in and stuck his tongue out as far as he could, but it was a very stubborn elbow.

After an eternity, Brain finally spoke, his voice full of cautious hope. “Are they glowing now?”

Pinky shook his head, and Brain slumped against the wall in defeat.

The clock ticked on.

“There’s gotta be other things you like besides world domination,” Pinky said. It made sense to have a lot of likes and favorites, and not just on social media.

“Those ‘other things’ are frivolous at best and distractions at worst,” Brain replied. “Taking over this world would make me happy, so there’s no logical reason as to why it’s not working.”

Maybe it was happy, but they had to think happier. No, they had to think happiest!

Brain said ‘this world’. Right, he was a Selenian. Funny how it seemed like he’d been here forever instead of just a few days.

A Selenian. Brain never revealed much about where he came from. Just that he wanted to leave it all behind. And he only spoke about their technology. But there was more than that, right?

“Narf! It’s funny, Brain,” Pinky said, holding his toes as he rocked back and forth. Brain looked at him, confused. “You’ve gotten to know a lot about this planet, but I don’t know much about yours! There’s gotta be something about New Selene that makes you happy!”

“Nothing about that desolate wasteland sparks any joyful feelings,” Brain retorted. “Snowball and I are much better off here. Terra’s knowledge of space is much less advanced than Selene’s, but once we’re co-rulers that’s a problem easily rectified.”

“But there has to be something you did for fun.”

Brain looked away. “You’re prying. But if you’re truly interested…”

“I am!” Pinky exclaimed, nodding eagerly. “Please tell me!”

Brain’s ear twitched as he listened for signs of anyone coming. But none appeared. “I’m going to regret this...but fine. However, everything I’m about to tell you does not leave this maze. Promise me.”

“Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my-ow!” Pinky jabbed his eye a little too hard.

Brain watched him for a moment longer, so Pinky tried to make himself look like a captivated audience. Finally, he gave in with a sigh.

“Selenians have an oral storytelling tradition called Lor Altal. The loose translation to your language is ‘swapping hearts’, and given their predisposition to sordid, melodramatic affairs, I’d say it’s an accurate name,” Brain explained. “On the mother planet, it’s normally performed on the last day of the month. But explorers and scientists, including those of New Selene, often turned it into a weekly session as a way to remind them of home.”

“Didja hear any Lor Altals on New Selene?” Pinky asked. He laid on his stomach, propped his head on his elbows, and kicked his feet in the air.

“...yes.”

Why so hesitant though?

“Snowball and I...we used to sneak out of our cages for the weekly Lor Altal. When we were younger. Before they abandoned New Selene. The ones we’d listened to were...well, they could become very elaborate with song, dance, and costume. New Selene’s were more basic, but interesting.”

“Ooooooh,” Pinky said. This definitely sounded fun fun silly-willy! “You know any good stories, Brain? Can you tell me? Please please please?”

Brain scratched his head. “Well, there’s one that I...no, perhaps I shouldn’t be thinking about these things. Lor Altals don’t matter in the pursuit of world domination.”

“I don’t mind!” Pinky said. Brain was so silly, insisting that he couldn’t like stuff outside his goal. He liked cream cheese and blueberry bagels, didn’t he? “I wanna know your favoritest out of the lot!”

“You do?” Brain asked in surprise. He didn’t seem to believe Pinky.

“Of course!” Pinky grinned.

Brain’s cheeks flushed, but he accepted that they weren’t going anywhere. Besides, if Brain really liked these Lor Altal stories, then his orbs would glow and they wouldn’t have to be scared of the dark!

“...alright. This Lor Altal tale is called Heikro var Silda. It’s one of the most well-known stories, starring Selene’s historical figures,” Brain said, gaining more confidence with every word. “The characters were embellished from real life, but the background is mostly the same.”

There was a spark in Brain’s pink eyes now. It intrigued Pinky.

“Three thousand years ago, before Selene’s industrial and technological revolutions, the entire planet was embroiled in a long and bitter civil war, spearheaded by two rival households, alike in prestige and influence.”

“If they add honey, maybe it wouldn’t be so bitter?” Pinky suggested.

“Try not to interrupt, Pinky. Setting the mood is important in these stories,” Brain said, breaking out of his narrator voice. And boy did he have a lovely narrator voice!

Pinky rezipped his lip and let Brain continue.

“The eastern hemisphere was the domain of the House of Syar'i, of which the fair maiden Silda belonged. The western half was controlled by the House of Alkair, of which the handsome lad Heikro was selected to rule. Caught between the two powerful households, the Selenians were fearful of the violence that ensued whenever they clashed, for both commanded large networks of armies, assassins, and spies. Now, on one fateful day…”

Soon Brain was completely engrossed in the story, just as Pinky was enthralled to hear Brain give the performance of his life. Well, Brain wasn’t the best actor Pinky had ever seen. Sometimes he was a bit flat and sometimes he was a bit hammy, but the passion in his voice made the story absolutely thrilling.

It was the type of passion someone only had when they truly loved something.

Some breaks were necessary for Brain to rest his voice for a few minutes, others so Pinky could get a translation for the Selenian language when Brain accidentally used a different tongue after getting caught up in the story.

Brain’s voice grew softer as he laid out Heikro’s plan to sneak into a banquet thrown by the House of Syar’i to scope out their plans for an invasion of an Akair-controlled port city. And poor Silda, having to marry someone she didn’t love but doing it for the sake of her parents! That poor girl oughta be happy!

Pinky clasped his hands together at the moment Heikro laid eyes on Silda’s beauty and was instantly smitten, forgetting that he needed to report his findings to his council. And Silda was taken in by Heikro’s broad shoulders and sturdy build. It was love at first sight! How romantic!

“Then Silda bid her parents and their guests good night, and retired to her chambers. But Heikro, who longed to see more of the maiden’s ethereal charm, could not bear to stay away for long. Under the cover of darkness, he crept around her residence, where he found a restless Silda on her balcony. She couldn’t slumber peacefully, for her maidservant revealed the man she kissed was none other than an esteemed member of the House of Akair.”

Pinky pounded his fist against his knee. “She needs to elope with him, that’s what! Narf!”

“‘Nova suprhi li ihmin var altal’, he called to her.”

“Oh, there’s that altal word again. He’s saying something about hearts, I think. That’s so sweet!” Pinky exclaimed. Realizing his mistake, he covered his mouth. “Sorry, Brain! Continue!”

But instead of continuing, Brain leaned against the wall. Oh. He must’ve gotten tired.

“I’ll let it pass this time, Pinky,” Brain said as he rubbed his throat. “I might’ve overdone it anyway. Next time, I’ll pick a better stopping point.”

His voice sounded a little raspy. Though Pinky really wanted to know what happened next, keeping Brain’s voice in working order so they could make the phone call was more important.

“What did that last sentence mean?” Pinky asked.

Brain regarded Pinky for a long moment. “It’s a favorite quote among many Selenians. But it’s rather saccharine, I’m afraid.”

“I’m not,” Pinky said.

“If you must know, it means ‘new stars shall be born from our minds and hearts’.” Brain’s voice was so soft, Pinky had to strain to hear it. “As I said, it’s saccharine.”

“It sounds so poetic!” Pinky smiled. And romantic too!

Brain didn’t say anything. His orbs cast a gentle red glow over his shining pink eyes.

Egad, his orbs! They were glowing now! Even the one on his tail!

“Brain, you did it!” Pinky cheered, trying to do a cartwheel. But he landed flat on his face instead, though he popped right back up. “You found what made you happy!”

Brain touched the orbs on his antennae, awed by their appearance. Then he turned towards the dark pathway, gesturing for Pinky to follow.

They didn’t have to worry about traps or getting stuck anymore! Pinky skipped along behind Brain, who walked at a brisk pace.

A soft red glow lit up the metal walls around them as they plunged deeper into the maze. But there were no lefts, rights, or confusing turns. Just straight ahead.

“Thanks for being here with me, Brain. It’s not scary anymore,” Pinky said gratefully, taking Brain’s hand in his own.

“Keep walking, Pinky,” Brain replied, keeping his eyes forward. If anything, the light grew a little brighter. “We should be nearing the end of the maze.”

Pinky sniffed the air. He could’ve sworn he smelled cheese.

Hold the phone! He smelled cheese!

And there was an opening ahead of them!

Pinky’s stomach growled as they stepped into the light, and lo and behold, there were two lumps of cheddar right in front of them!

Even Brain was smiling as he chomped down on the cheese.

Pinky dug in. And it was the best cheese he’d ever tasted in his life!

o-o-o-o-o

It took a long time for the lab to clear out after they finished the maze. The scientists were shocked by Pinky clearing the maze for the first time. He couldn’t blame them.

He astounded himself too.

Brain’s light had dimmed long before the lab closed, annoyed by the constant poking and prodding. They wanted to know who spliced him with butterfly DNA because of his antennae, though multiple people thought he was spliced with a mosquito since he bit any curious fingers that strayed close to his face.

“Those ignorant fools will be bowing to me soon enough, Pinky,” Brain proclaimed as he dialed the number on the invitation. “Hold the card up.”

“Hurry, Brain!” Pinky urged, shooting a fearful glance at the clock. They only had thirty minutes left!

Brain punched the number into the phone, then hit the call button.

“Please work!” Pinky begged the phone as it rang. He wanted to wear fancy clothes and mingle and swim in the chocolate fountain so much!

The phone rang once, twice, then the call finally went through.

“Hello, this is Harold, butler of Lamont Manor,” a voice with a charming British accent said. “May I ask who I’m speaking with?”

Pinky bounced from toe to toe in excitement, though he tried to curb it when Brain held up a hand for him to stop. But he couldn’t help his tail twitchies.

“This is Mr. Clarke,” Brain said, using the name on the card. “My spouse and I will be coming to the ball on Sunday.”

“I see,” Harold said, his tone changing into one of disgust. That was a little odd. “Another new spouse then, Anthony?”

New spouse? Brain mouthed in confusion.

Pinky shrugged.

“Mrs. Clarke is on the invitation. She’s allowed inside too, correct?” Brain asked.

“Assuming she’s still your wife by Sunday, yes,” Harold said. “I’ll put your names on the guest list. Try to do something about that awful rasp of yours, will you? Good night.”

The call ended.

“The real Mr. Clarke sounds like a delightful fellow,” Brain muttered.

“I’m sure it won’t be so bad, Brain!” Pinky grinned. Now all they had to do was find fancy stuff for the ball! “You’re gonna be wearing a mask anyway!”

“I suppose,” Brain sighed.

“No supposing!” Pinky shook his finger at him. “Besides, you haven’t finished your Lor Altal story yet! You know, it’s funny how it reminds me of Romeo and Juliet. With the feuding families and star-crossed lovers and all! Except much happier, cause Reikro and Silda will help bring about peace to the planet of Selene and live happily ever after!”

Brain didn’t make eye contact with Pinky for the next few hours.

My original plan was to have them mistaken for feeder mice after they finished the maze, and they would’ve been plopped into a snake enclosure with a snake named Gladys. Pinky would’ve been caught in the coils (Gladys is nonvenomous and would kill by constricting rather than venom), and Brain would rescue him.

Ultimately, I decided to cut this idea out and have them run a maze instead, which is tedious but not life-threatening. Since the maze is light on danger, I decided to focus more on Pinky and Brain interactions here, and include the Lor Altal oral storytelling tradition, which has been mentioned in previous chapters as an aside. Plus, I believe this story would benefit from Pinky learning more about where Brain came from, since previous chapters have placed the focus on Brain learning about Earth.

The storytelling is an aspect of Selenian culture Brain likes but never got to fully enjoy. Since Brain seems to have a hidden interest in acting and theatre, given the number of his schemes that involve cinema, broadcasting, and in one case, Broadway, I decided to incorporate that bit of his character here.

Brain’s story is just an abridged Romeo and Juliet IN SPACE!

#pinky and the brain #patb nova #patb fanfiction

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untothismeme · 4 years ago

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LOVEJOY ASK MEMES. S39 Smoke Your Nose

“Don’t encourage him.”

“What’s all this about Roman remains?”

“The only remains buried here are his legs.”

“They’ll have to investigate it.”

“This is damn rubbish. Just look at it!”

“I must have something of great quality. Something to surprise, amaze, and amuse her.”

“Will you stop that please?”

“I bet you’ve never had malted milk like this before.”

“You got me into this, toots.”

“Just because an object is familiar doesn’t mean it’s worthless.”

“Do you know what this is?”

“It’s doggy crunchies.”

“Are you a gambling man, [ NAME ]?”

“I never tangle with the kind of people you get down at the town hall.”

“Lead me not into temptation, [ NAME ].”

“I feel a bit guilty about this.”

“I once shared a place with a potter who was heavily into slipware.”

“[ NAME ] is barred from the Black Horse.”

“The vibes in here—incredible!”

“Do you know any academics?”

“All the ones I know have been cured.”

“Have you tried ironmongery?”

“What are you going to do? Go home, wash your hair, clean a drawer?”

“You’re a class act, [ NAME ].”

“I know what all this is about.”

“No one will listen, not even you.”

“Maybe she hadn’t had time to look at it.”

“When it comes to map reading, you’re not exactly Marco Polo.”

“I don’t think tearing your assistant limb from limb is something I could possibly condone.”

“Even the condemned man is allowed a last drink.”

“We’ve been shafted, [ NAME ].”

“The nearest that’s been to Lafite is being strained through a sock.”

“What are you implying?”

“Sorry, diplomacy was never my strong suit.”

“I’ll bury you, you bastard!”

#sentence starters #rp meme #ask meme #askbox meme #rp ask meme #roleplay ask meme #mine*#tv*#lovejoy*#tv #general #silly

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herbgerblin · 5 years ago

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taz summer at the pool au

Lucretia

Pool Manager

keeps schedule running smoothly and the patrons happy

“No dogs at the pool” (Magnus is immediately halted at the gate with this news. He pouts, but respects the rules of the pool)

There is a sign on the shower wall that says “no dwarven speedos” specifically because of merle

blows pool whistle when necessary. sometimes just for the fun of it

rarely gets into the pool herself, but does love to soak her feet after a long day

Merle

Patron

takes his kids to the pool every weekend

tells them not to run, they ignore him

wears a full body bathing suit to protect other patrons from seeing the kenny chesney tattoo in all it’s glory

fell asleep in a folding chair once, woke up on a small floaty in the deep end of the pool. was not happy about it

wears oversized novelty sunglasses and finger guns at anyone who comments on them

Lup

Lifeguard

Sexy shades and red swimsuit, hell ya

acts nonchalant on duty, but genuinely watches like a hawk for any shenanigans that she herself has not caused

“It’s over anakin, I have the high ground”

Uses the megaphone in any way but what it’s intended for

has had to perform cpr on Barry at least once, after a particular moment it became makeout sesh by the pool, which put off everyone else from swimming for a whole weekend

Taako

Swim instructor

uses the ‘throws small child in the pool’ method

knows every swimming technique imaginable, including the phoon

steals most of the snacks from the storeroom

“sink or swim, bitch”

has taken a nap on the diving board at least twice

wields pool noodles like a weapon

Barry

Sunburnt™

not fond of the pool but is always there when Lup is on duty

Lup knows this, and always asks him if he “enjoys the view”

he does but always gets very flushed about it

asked taako to teach him how to swim in secret. taako obliges

still stays in the shallow end as a precautionary measure

brings spare towels and cool drinks to be helpful

Angus

Pool Boy Detective

can swim perfectly fine, but everyone insists that he wears two floaties, water wings, a life vest, and a snorkel at all times

wears caleb cleveland brand™ swim trunks

solved the case of the missing pool employee snacks (it was taako)

keeps books in a specially vacuum sealed bag so he can read them in the water

Davenport

Assistant Pool Manager

drives golf cart around pool property. said golf cart has a shark fin on top, teeth on front, and a shark tail on the back

keeps inventory stocked and has set up numerous traps to keep Taako out of the snacks (works about 60% of the time)

likes to chill in the pool on less busy days

surprisingly good at the backstroke

Magnus

Maintenance

Cleans pool on a regular basis. always finds random things that get left behind. one of those things was merle

master of marco polo and king of cannon balls

kids ask him to inflate all of their flotation devices. he obliges

if you unsuspectingly fall asleep on a floaty, he will sneak up behind you and flip you into the water

his preferred swim stroke is literally running from the gate, leaping off the edge, flying over half the length of the pool, and causing such a tidal wave that everyone around gets soaked within a twenty meter radius

#if you can think of more please add on #taz balance #herbgerb blerb #taz pool au

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miidnightglosss · 4 years ago

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Boston Tea Party - Part 1 (Grell Sutcliffe - Chapter 1)

There's a tradition in Boston, Massachusetts, one where every student at the end of their eighth-grade year of school throws their papers and textbooks into a bonfire and parties the night away before their souls are ultimately crushed before going through the trials of high school life. Those who still have their souls, at least.

Grell Sutcliff, 14, had decided to follow this tradition surrounded by a number of her best friends. Her bright red hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail. She pulled down her black tank top ever so slightly and adjusted her white skirt accordingly. Her flip-flops lagged behind as she took a seat next to one of her best friends, Johanna West. "Are you sure you're just gonna stick with Bart Simpson over there? I know, like, thirteen other guys that are way cuter than him," Grell offered, her English accent apparent.

Johanna rolled her hazel eyes as she pushed the bright orange side of her hair (wig technically) out of her eyes. Her tan skin glowed against her sun while her eyes reflected the light. She had a fuchsia and orange split dyed wig that went surprisingly well with the rest of her somewhat toned-down clothing. Johanna had worn just a black cut-off tank top and dark denim shorts, her black Doja Cat hoodie slung over the back of her camping chair. She crossed her legs and bounced her Van-covered foot as she spoke again to Grell. "Yes, for the one-millionth time. And no amount of your criticism is going to change that.

"I'm just saying," Grell continued. "If you weren't promised to him, who would you date?"

Johanna and her boyfriend, Bart, have been promised to marry each other ever since he proposed (kind of) early last school year. They've known each other two years prior and figured "why the hell not?" They were a good pair and bounced off of each other well. Most of the time.

The two girls looked over to the rest of their group, which mostly consisted of boys. Walker Auteberry was playing football with Sebastian Michaelis, Matt Connery, and Ronald Knox.

Walker Auteberry was basically a pure athletic paragon. Tall, blond, fit. Not too terribly muscular. His curls bounced on top of his faded hair as it dissolved to match his tanned skin after a trip to Honolulu.

His face lit up with a smile, which was soon turned to shock as Sebastian tackled him to the ground. His porcelain skin and ebony hair were the perfect contrast to Walker's appearance. Sebastian was a bit leaner than Walker, but couldn't get a tan for shit. He was very punk or e-boy and often wore shades of black and gray with tiny bursts of red or purple color here and there.

Ronald Knox was a mega playboy. He also had blond, almost golden, hair with a few brown tuffs in the front that he somehow managed to pull off. His unnaturally green eyes, those similar to Grell's and William T. Spears's, were lit up with intensity as he chucked the ball over to Sebastian once more, making a touchdown. He was the preppiest among the boys.

Matt, Johanna's cousin, was somewhat of a mix between them. His blond hair had been dyed black, a bit darker than Sebastian's. He was more emo than the two. There's a difference. He wasn't putting in too much effort, but he was enjoying himself nonetheless.

Ciel Phantomhive, son to one of the richest families in Boston, sat beside his fiancee, Elizabeth Midford. Also wealthy.

Johanna smirked. "Probably either Sebastian or Ronald."

Grell furrowed her eyebrows. "What the fuck? Sebastian, hell yeah, but Ronald?"

"What?"

"They're complete dorks."

Johanna shrugged. "I have a thing for dorks."

"Then why are you with that?"

The girls looked over to Bartlomiej von Grimmelshausen, Bart for short. His family was traditionally Polish, but they were also the founders of one of the leading sportscar companies in town, Luxus. He had wavy jet black hair styled with a taper fade and ivory skin. He had around the same build as Walker but had grown a bit colder and more business-focused over the past few years. He had just thrown on a short-sleeve flannel with a white tank top underneath and a pair of black shorts. He stood alone as he fished in the nearby lake.

Johanna sighed. "I don't know. We have history and he's not someone I wanna lose."

"I ain't sayin' she a gold digga--"

Johanna playfully swatted Grell's arm. "Shut up! I'm not in it for the money."

"Then what? In my opinion, any of the other guys here would be more compatible with you."

"Right, like William?"

"Hey, now," Grell started, using her parent voice. "William's off-limits."

"Fine," Johanna finished jokingly. Jacquelyn Marek came over after a conversation with her parents at another site. All their parents were friends and they let them have freedom, but not too much. "Hey, what's up?"

Grell looked up to Jackie. She possessed auburn hair and ivory skin, much like Walker. She'd worn a yellow cropped tube top and black shorts today. She seemed distraught but tried hiding it. "Um... Yeah. Hey, do you guys wanna have a sleepover? You know, one last hurrah before high school starts?"

"Sure. It can't be at my house, though," Grell shouted. "Not after last time!"

"He gave me a weird look," Walker yelled back across the field.

"That's not a good reason to chuck a tube TV out the window," Matt replied

The girls giggled to themselves. "I'd have to ask August and Florence but they'll probably be fine with it." Johanna brushed some fallen leaves off her lap as she stood up. "I have to ask Bart something. Be right back."

Jackie moved in closer to Grell. "So when are you gonna make a move?"

Grell sighed dramatically. "I've already told you, once the time's right."

"Yeah, well, you'd better speed it up. He'll get snatched up quickly, especially somewhere as prestigious as the Phantomhive Academy. The geeky nerd bitches will be all up on him if he lets them." Jackie peered over at the adults to make sure they weren't looking and pulled out a Juul. She took a puff before offering it to Grell. "Wanna try? It's strawberries and cream."

Grell wrinkled her nose. "The fuck it is. And, no. I'm getting enough lung cancer just standing next to you." Jackie shrugged and took another hit. "What do you mean he'll get snatched up?"

Jackie raised an eyebrow. "Are you kidding? Someone like him up at a place like that? His parents are practically begging for grandkids."

Grell gazed longingly at her crush as he sat and scribbled in his notebook. "You're being incredibly vague right now."

"But you do know what I mean, right?"

"Yeah, I know."

Grell's crush, William, was way out of her league. Just like a majority of the people in her friend group, the Spears were wealthy. Will wanted to get into his own business. So did Grell, but while she was thinking of her own fashion line, he was thinking of his own line of supercomputer androids to help humanity. His short dark brown hair was always slicked back and his icy glare could cut through stone. He had a lean build and tall figure to match his business-as-usual aura.

"If you want, I could probably spike everyone's drinks and maybe move things forward a little."

Grell whipped her head towards Jackie, eyes full of disbelief and concern with a hint of curiosity.

"I'm doing it." As Jackie skipped away, Grell couldn't find the words to stop her.

♞

A couple of hours had passed before the parents had decided to give their kids some alone time. As soon as that happened, Jackie called up a local caterer to bring the group a giant bowl of punch. While everyone was busy being preoccupied with each other, she snuck off and poured in a few tiny shots she'd smuggled from the same gas station she'd gotten her Juul.

Grell watched as Johanna and Bart played a game of Marco Polo in the lake. Johanna trod the water as Bart found her hips beneath the waves. The couple smiled having found each other and kissed, right before hearing an "ew" from Matt, and getting splashed by a wave of water. Soon it had turned into a chicken fight, Johanna and Bart versus Matt and Walker.

Grell snapped out of her trance as a red solo cup was presented in front of her. "That could be you pretty soon," Jackie reminded. Without another word, Grell shot down the punch within a few huge gulps and assisted in passing them out, throat burning.

Soon enough, everyone was holding a drink and coming back to the punch bowl for more. Fireflies illuminated the skies as everyone danced to Bottoms Up by Trey Songz.

Jackie marched on top of a stump and raised her free hand. "Attention, assholes of Boston, Massachusetts!" Everyone in the group, including a few others, looked her way. "We're now going to play Truth or Dare now. I go first. Ciel, truth or dare?"

Normally, Ciel would be one of the first to deny a game of Truth or Dare. However, he was under the influence. He shrugged, an arm wrapped around Elizabeth's waist, whose hair had now been taken out of her usual drill tails. "Truth."

"If you were to make out with one guy here, who would it be?"

Ciel eyed Sebastian up and down. "I think we all know the answer to that already." The group let out a chorus of hoots and hollers as Sebastian purred back. Lizzie lazily swatted Ciel's chest.

"Okayokayokayokay-- OKAY!" Jackie silenced them again. "You pick someone now."

Ciel looked up, down, and all-around at the group until his eyes laid on William. "You!" He pointed overdramatically. "Truth or Dare?"

William, giggling like a maniac, had chosen dare. Never took him as a happy drunk, Grell thought to herself. "I dare youuuuu--" Ciel hiccupped-- "to make out with the most attractive person here."

Grell’s cheeks flushed a bright red as she nervously laughed along with her friends, Walker finding it the most hilarious thing in the world and slapping his hand on his knee while he wheezed for air.

She realized two things: one, he could pick someone, literally anyone, but her and confirm exactly what he thought of her. Two, he could kiss her and it would be the start of something beautiful. Either way, it was totally nerve-wracking. It wasn't like Will to spontaneously make out with someone. It wasn't like Will to get drunk without him really even knowing either. It wasn't like him to get drunk.

Grell didn't realize how much she had been overthinking this entire situation until William stood right in front of her.

Shit. Seductive. Go. She tried her best to look playful and flirty despite how much she was shaking right now. She hasn't noticed how much taller Will was to her. At least a good half a foot. Grell decided that it would probably be best to just let herself loose in the moment, so she snaked her arms around William's neck as he wrapped his around her waist. They stretched ever so slightly so that their lips were inches apart until they finally collided with each other.

It was everything Grell had dreamed it would be. His soft lips seemed to fit hers perfectly. Will licked her bottom lip, asking for permission to enter her mouth. She allowed him without hesitation as their tongues wrestled with each other for a good while. Her hands tightened through his hair while his gripped her hips tightly, pulling her closer to his body. Grell could've stayed like that for the rest of eternity--

"Okay, Grell, get you some!"

Johanna laughed at her remark from behind the two as Jackie cackled along with her. William drew away from Grell and opened his eyes, leaving Grell helpless, her eyes longing and her face red.

William smirked as Walker pat him a couple of times on his shoulder and the game continued. Grell couldn't pay much attention, though. She was certain that kiss meant one thing: they were meant to be together.

She couldn't have been more wrong.

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deathsmallcaps · 4 years ago

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Mansa Musa

Hey so I wrote a paper about Mansa Musa, the richest man to ever live (he’s richer than Jeff Bezos!) so if you all want to read it here it is. I’m not entirely sure about how well I cited everything, and I’m not entirely confident about the source, but researching this paper was fun and very interesting. However, I wrote this for American History class so the paper is written in context with colonization and Western expansion. If that is something you, emotionally, are not up for today, I would suggest not reading it.

Kankan Mansa Musa I, also known as Mansa Musa I or Kanku Musa, along with his family’s legacy, is arguably one of the biggest inspirations for the European exploration and colonization of the Americas. Grandson to the legendary Sundiata, the Allah-appointed leader of the Malinké people, he ruled over the land now considered southern Mali. He was a devout Muslim, and was brought into the European consciousness because of his lavish pilgrimage to Mecca. He also conquered many lands, and made the almost mythical city Timbuktu, an intellectual’s paradise. Interestingly, there may also be a direct connection between Musa and the Americas; according to some records, his predecessor Abubakari II abdicated to sail West.

During Musa’s reign as the leader of the Mali Empire, he ruled and took over many areas in modern day Chad, Gambia, Guinea, Mauritania, Niger, Nigeria and Senegal, gaining control of the numerous gold fields populating the landscape. Deciding to thank Allah for his successes, he became the most famous West African king to make the Hajj pilgrimage. It is a required rite of all adult Muslims to do at least once in their lifetime if they can physically as well as financially make the trip while also supporting their families. He brought so many heralds that his procession stretched for miles and numbered in the thousands. Musa also brought so much gold with him on the pilgrimage that during a brief stop in the city of Cairo, he paid with enough gold that it took “12 years for the flooded gold market to recover.” (Cartwright). Only three decades before, the famed explorer Marco Polo returned with news of the riches found in the East. These two events may have spurred the European fixation on adventuring in search for foriegn riches. Two years after Musa’s death in 1337, an Italian cartographer created a map displaying the king’s wealth. A preoccupation with “… his flamboyant journey was to … stimulate a desire … among many of European nations as well, to reach the source of this incredible wealth.” (Graft-Johnson).

Another factor of Musa’s contribution to the European invasion of the Americas was the era of enlightenment and excellent control of his empire. He built up the almost mythical city of Timbuktu, making it a moral and intellectual garden of minds. It may have inspired the jealousy of his Christian counterparts. The Christian mentality of that time was of ignorance and economic jealousy towards the Islamic part of the world. Literacy was uncommon, and the scientific and mathematical advances of the Islmic world were viewed with suspicion. They were actively searching for ways to get exotic goods, such as sugar and spices, without the indignity of dealing with Muslim middlemen. Relatively shortly after Musa’s name became known up north, the Portuguese and later the Spanish and Italians started sailing around and taking people from Africa. The Catholic kingdoms were also looking for a way to get military assistance from China in taking back Jerusalem from Islamic control, as they ultimately considered it their holy duty. So, Musa’s success as a ruler may have stimulated enough spite and jealousy in the Europeans that they invented whole new capitalistic tendencies which led to the invasion of the American continents.

In a harder to prove way, Mali may have also been one of the first Old World nations to make contact with the Americans. According to some sources, his predecessor and brother, Abubakari II, “ ... wanted to find out whether the Atlantic Ocean – like the great River Niger that swept through Mali – had another ‘bank’.” (Boakye). Initially the man had sent out a fleet full, and when only one ship came back, reporting first of an island of goats (possibly one of the Canary Islands) and then farther away, an extremely wide and tumultuous river where the rest of the boats sank. The one surviving ship reported to have then met a people with red skin, who in turn said that they had met a group of venturing Berbers some years before. Hearing this, Abubakari immediately decided to set out and live in the strange land, which is one story of how Musa inherited the empire from his brother. There is further proof concerning the West African expeditions to Brazil and the Carribbean islands; “Philologists have discovered Red-Indian words of Arabic origin, from pre-Colombian days. Columbus found on the coast of Cuba dogs that do not bark. This is a West-African race of dogs.” (Hamidullah). So quite possibly, news of this successful venture to a land across the Atlantic may have inspired Columbus's notion to sail across it.

In conclusion, there are three reasons why Kankan Mansa Musa could be quite relevant to the European discovery and later invasion of the American continents. Firstly, the tales of his immense wealth may have inspired southern European ventures around Africa, Asia and eventually the Americas for new business opportunities. Secondly, the success of his Islamic empire may have driven the jealous Christians into trying to find that sort of power and worldliness without reaching through Muslim middlemen for goods from East Asia. Lastly, Musa’s strange succession to the throne and tales of a land to the West could’ve inspired Columbus's journey to the Americas. In short, his wealth, his power and legends of Musa’s family could’ve inspired European westward exploration.

Bibliography

Cartwright, Mark. “Mansa Musa I.” Ancient History Encyclopedia, Ancient History Encyclopedia, 18 Aug. 2020, www.ancient.eu/Mansa_Musa_I/.

Graft-Johnson, John Coleman de. “Mūsā I of Mali.” Encyclopædia Britannica, Encyclopædia Britannica, Inc., 29 Apr. 2020, www.britannica.com/biography/Musa-I-of-Mali.

Boakye Full bio Close Facebook Twitter LinkedIn Email , Bridget, and Gaoussou Diawara. “Way before Columbus, Ancient Malians Sailed to the Americas in 1311.” Face2Face Africa, 5 Dec. 2018, face2faceafrica.com/article/way-before-columbus-ancient-malians-sailed-to-the-americas-in-1311.

Hamidullah, Mohammed. “Echoes of What Lies Behind the 'Ocean of Fogs' in Muslim Historical NarrativeH.” MuslimHeritage.com - Topics, Journal of the Muslim's Student Association of the United States and Canada, 2013, web.archive.org/web/20131020191955/www.muslimheritage.com/topics/default.cfm?ArticleID=646.

#Mansa Musa #american history #history paper #when I wrote this paper the #m key #on my com #puter broke so i had to copy paste each and every one of those fuckers into the paper #and there are so many le #tter m's in this #its ridiculous

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dragon-writes-sometimes · 5 years ago

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Once Upon A Time... Not, Chapter 4: #TwinSquad

Chapter Summary: Virgil is very surprised at how strangers are coming to his rescue from the school bully, Jake Simons. He makes some new friends like that, as well as getting very confused.

Trigger Warnings: Bullying, verbal fighting, pushing, threats, confusion, let me know if I missed anything!

Word Count: 3492

AO3

Chapter 1

Previous Chapter - Chapter 5

Chapter 4: #TwinSquad

That sounds like… Anastacia comes into my vision, stands in front of me, guarding me. “I don’t give a rat’s arse about who you think you are! Nobody, and I repeat, NOBODY! Does that to my brother!” Anyone who doesn’t know her, everybody here except me, wouldn’t know that inside her mind, she’s screaming at herself to grab me and run. The little waver in her voice gave it away. But I’m so lucky to have her. She sets her own anxiety to the side to help me.

“What?” Jake drawls out that word. “We were just having a bit of fun. Ain’t that right, freak?” He looks pointedly at me. And earns a shove from Ann.

“Don’t you dare call my brother a freak,” she says, voice dangerously low. Oh-uh. I haven’t heard her use that voice since she beat the crap out of the only bully at our last school. He was degrading me for being trans, so he kinda had it coming. But still, Anastacia can be pretty scary when she’s in protective mode.

“Oh, I’m sooo scared. What’re you gonna do, British? Throw a teabag after me?” he mocks. Big mistake on his part, if you ask me.

“Did you just-” Oh, Ann is seething now. I can tell. To hell with anxiety, when you’ve pissed her off, you’re dead.

I look around the yard and, oh no! There are so many people! I need to get away from here! I’m on the verge of a panic attack, I can feel it! Why couldn’t I just stay at home and never see the sun again? Ann’s talking, I think. Maybe even fighting that Jake guy. At least verbally. I can’t hear them. I can’t hear anything! Wait, I can hear my heart. That’s good. Right? Oh god, I’m going to have a panic attack on the first day back to school in front of a bunch of strangers! I can’t- I can’t-

“What’s going on here, Jake?”

Who was that? Their voice sounds really calculated. But also kinda cold. Their voice broke through my panicked thoughts, though. Like Mother’s. Her voice was able to break through my thoughts. I’ve only heard their voice, but I think it’s someone I can trust. Maybe. I don’t know. It’s all a haze right now. I should probably open my eyes. Yeah, I’m gonna do that. Wait, I closed my eyes? When did that happen?

Anastacia is standing protectively in front of me, like a knight protecting their most dearest with a shield from a firebreathing dragon. No! Not thinking about that! In front of her, two other students are standing face to face with Jake. They’re talking with him. What are they saying? I try and focus on them.

“… ould leave.” The voice from earlier.

“Yeah, right. Like I’m going to. Yo, Marco! Dillan!” That’s Jake. At his shout, two other students run over to his side. “The nerds wanna fight,” Jake laughs.

“We’d rather it didn’t come to that. However, I will indulge you if you want.” This is a new voice. They sound quite dramatic. It’s one of the two who came over. They are defending me? Why? They don’t know me. I don’t know them.

I can see their back. One of the two is wearing what looks like a dark blue polo. The other is wearing a dark red jacket with a crown on. Nothing too boisterous, but still. Bold.

“Can’t you count, Garcia? It’s three against two. British is obviously too busy with her weak-ass brother,” Jake smirks.

“Numbers don’t matter in situations such as this, may I remind you. Anyone with even just a slight comprehension of hand-to-hand combat will tell you that.” The first voice.

“Indeed, Simons, we don’t need to be any more to take you fiends down.” Red Jacket does what I assume is supposed to be a dramatic pose. Pretty sure the second voice belongs to them.

“Pfft, you really think your geek can handle being in a fight, Garcia? He would lose instantly.” Jake and his goons laugh. “He’s too scrawny! If I even just gently punch him, he’d break!” Jakes goons laughed even harder at that. Well, that really wasn’t fair! I really wanna help them, but I can’t do a fucking thing right now! It’s like I’m paralysed!

“You would actually be surprised at what Logan can do, Jake.” A new voice, sounding a bit more female. Well, it looks like they are here to help Polo Shirt and Red Jacket. “And how many punches he can take without breaking a sweat or slowing down in the slightest.”

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the Quick E coming the weaklings to the resue?” Jake taunts. I think it’s supposed to be a play at their name or something.

“Har har, real mature, Jackie.” Jake sneers at the name. The newcomer (gosh, there’s so many strangers now, I can’t breathe) only smile at Jake innocently. “You know it’s Qikkie. Q-I-K-K-I-E,” they spell out. “Qikkie. Might look weird, but it’s just pronounced ‘Kikki’.” Oh, their smile is dangerous now. They kinda remind me of Ann…

“Virgil, breathe.” Who said that?! I frantically look around. Who the hell sa- oh. Anastacia. She’s right next to me now. She’s telling me to breathe. Am I not breathing? I inhale sharply. Oh, guess I wasn’t.

She continues whispering soft nothings into my ear. I tune them out in favour of focusing on the conversation in front of us. Red Jacket is standing slightly in front of Polo Shirt, ready to defend. I must’ve missed something.

“Oh, go put a sock in it, Jake,” Red Jacket says. Jake just laughs. As do his goons.

“Hey! Attention here, hothead!” the newcomer, Qikkie, says, snapping their fingers. Nice bracelet. Why does it say ‘She/Her’ on it? “Do you really wanna turn your back on me? After what happened last year?” Jake visibly freezes. Qikkie just smiles wickedly. Wonder what happened?

“Fine. You losers win this round,” Jake grumbles, signalling to his goons to follow him as he leaves.

“You just conceded victory to us, so we are in fact the winners. Not losers,” Polo Shirt says, sounding puzzled.

Qikkie turns to Ann and me. “Sorry about him. Jake wasn’t taught any manners at all at home. He’s just a Neanderthal. Just ignore him and his brainless gorillas,” Qikkie smiles at us and offers a hand. The other two are still there, but it seems like they’re sending ordering looks to the other students because they start to leave fast.

Ann takes their offered hand after I nod an okay at her. She then gently lifts me up with both hands. Damn it! I’m wobbling a bit. My legs aren’t steady. Haven’t eaten anything since lunch yesterday and that push just took more of my remaining energy. I really need to eat better.

I quickly gain my balance and start signing. ‘Thanks, sis. Uhm, could you translate this next part?’ I hesitantly ask.

“Of course! Go ahead,” she says, earning a few confused looks from the others with us. Polo Shirt and Red Jacket came to stand next to Qikkie.

‘You know, it’s really offensive to Neanderthals to call him that. They were obviously much more intelligent than Jake is.’ I sign, allowing a tiny smirk to be visible on my face. Ann starts giggling a lot and has to catch her breath. Polo Shirt starts chuckling a bit as well, making Qikkie and Red Jacket look at them like they’d lost their mind. Maybe they didn’t laugh much?

Ann seems to have caught her breath again. “Huh, sorry. Right, translation. Virgil said, and I quote: You know, it’s really offensive to Neanderthals to call him that. They were obviously much more intelligent than Jake is.” And the others start laughing. Well, Polo Shirt is still chuckling a bit.

Qikkie’s laugh is light and not really that loud. Red Jacket’s laughter, however… it’s loud and boisterous and like music. Wait, what? Nonono, get it together Virgil! If you start these thoughts you’re only gonna start blushing and- and I’m blushing. Great. I look down a bit, trying to hide behind my bangs. Please don’t notice, please don’t notice, please don’t notice!

They finally start to laugh off. And Red Jacket looks at me. Oh, no! Shit! They’re smiling! At me! What do I do?! Can’t I just sink into the ground or something?!

“I like the way you think, Virgil, was it?” they ask. All I can do is stand there and look really dumb. I just nod. I’m pretty sure no one seems aware of my internal conflict. “I’m Roman. Roman Garcia. He/him.” Red Jacket, Roman, says, extending his hand but backtracks and scratches his neck instead. At least he could see I’d rather not touch any stranger at the moment.

Polo Shirt collects himself and gives a tiny attention-grabbing cough. “My name is Logan Connors. I, as well as Roman, use he/him pronouns. And we’re glad to be of assistance to the both of you,” he says and gives a curt nod. Yup. He’s the formal type. He even wears a necktie. Who even does that in a school that has no uniforms?

“You probably already caught my name,” Qikkie chuckles. “But if you forgot it already, it’s Qikkie. Picani. My name’s spelt really weird, but it’s just pronounced ‘Kiki’,” they smile. They get a look from Logan that I have no idea what means. “Oh, yeah! And I use she/her pronouns for today. I’m a demigirl, or as I like to call it: demifemale, so you can see my pronouns on my bracelet here.” She lifts her hand with the bracelet I saw earlier. So that’s why it says she/her. Cool. “When I’m wearing the ‘they/them’ pendants, you can just call me Q. You don’t have to, obviously, but it would be nice.”

“That’s really cool! I’m Anastacia, uhh, Blake,” Ann hesitantly adds. Most likely because they also shared their last names. Qikkie seems to light up at Ann’s comment about Qikkie’s bracelet. “I use she/her as well. And this is Virgil,” she gestures to me. “My brother. He/him.” I give a small wave at the introduction. And then the awkwardness starts. No one seems to know what to say now. I just try and hide behind my hair and hope Roman doesn’t look at me. I really don’t know why my body reacted like that! What’s wrong with me?

Luckily the first warning bell rings, signalling for us to get ready to go to our next class, breaking the awkward silence.

“Now that introductions are out of the way, it would be best for us to head to our next classes. We can show you to your classrooms?” Logan offers, albeit a bit awkward. He must not be all that social. Welcome to the club. I nod silently.

“We’d like that,” Ann says after she sees my nod. She checks her schedule. “Uhm, I have Maths,” she says.

“Ooh! We do too! Roman and I!” Qikkie says, clapping her hands excitedly. “We can take you there and at the same time, make sure Jake doesn’t try and bother you!” Ann nods, but glances to me. “What do you have, Virgil?” Qikkie asks me. Guess she noticed the worry in Ann’s eyes.

I look at my schedule. And smile. I have Art! One of the few things I don’t suck at and have a hard time screwing up. ‘Art’ I sign at Ann.

“Art? Cool!” Ann says, genuinely excited for me. It feels nice.

“Well, seems like you’ll be keeping me company, as I also have Art,” Logan says, adjusting his glasses unnecessarily. Must be a tick or something. He seems alright. I hope I’m not wrong like last time… “It is this way, Virgil.” I look around. Ann already left with Roman and Qikkie. I must’ve been zoning out. Wait, he’s walking away. Logan’s walking away. What do I do? Oh, right. He said he has Art too. I’m just gonna follow him.

I catch up to him pretty fast, though I do have a small limp from being pushed down on the ground. I really hope he doesn’t notice. We walk in silence. Obviously. Logan seems like someone who’s not up for unnecessary conversation, and I don’t really speak.

“So, Virgil. Might I inquire how long you’ve been unable to speak?” Logan suddenly breaks the silence. Great. “Do not worry about answering in sign-language, as I know some myself. Granted, I do not communicate in it every day. You do not have to answer if it’s too uncomfortable for you,” he adds after he, presumably, glances towards me and sees how I’m curling in on myself. It’s nice to know he actually cares about me. The least I could do after he and Roman basically saved me is answer him.

‘Well… I’m not unable to speak, per se. My throat just closes up a lot. It’s been doing that for as long as I can remember, really. So, I really just use sign to speak with others. Others being my sister and father.’ I hope that wasn’t too much for him to read. He did say he’s not the best.

“Ah. Selective mutism. I’m guessing you have heightened anxiety?” Logan asks. Wait, it’s actually called something? I thought I was just a weirdo. Huh. I do nod at his question about my anxiety. “Well, if you are called upon by the teacher, I shall translate as best I can for you if that is alright?” Again I nod.

He keeps his focus on me as we walk so I might as well ask. ‘Is there a specific reason why you know sign language?’ Pleasedon’thatemepleasedon’thatemepleasedon’thatemepleas-

“Well, a good friend of mine, his mother is deaf. I spent a lot of time at their house growing up, so I picked up a few things, well, a lot. And I’ve always been fascinated by it,” Logan explains. Well. At least he doesn’t find me annoying. Yet. I think.

We walk for another minute in silence, my mind is seriously being an asshole right now. How far away is the Art classroom anyway?! Hey, it’s my first day, alright? Don’t expect me to remember where everything is to a tee from just one tour of the school! “Logan! There you are!” someone whisper-shouts. Someone’s waving at us, standing outside a classroom.

“Ah, that is my sister, Laylin. Relax, Laylin. It’s still another five minutes before class starts,” Logan addresses the girl in front of us. She rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, but you’re usually here ten minutes before. Did Patton make you look at pictures of puppies again?” she remarks sarcastically. I’m just gonna assume that it’s something that’s only happened once and Laylin just keeps bringing it up to annoy Logan. That’s what I would do if Logan was my brother.

“That was one time!” Logan near hisses. “And no. Jake had sought out a new victim, so we stopped by to help. This is Virgil, by the way,” he says, nodding to me. I give a small wave at the girl in front of me.

“Nice to meet you, Virgil. I’m Laylin, Logan’s twin. Hope Jake didn’t give you a bad impression of the school. It’s the fewest that’s actually like him.” They’re twins. Why am I surprised? It’s the only explanation as to how they’re on the same year as siblings. Right?

The rest of the day goes by smoothly. Someone’s always by my side, so Jake stays away. We got some homework, but at least it’s something we covered last year in school, so I already did it and won’t have to agonise over it.

When we arrive at school the next day, Nini is standing just outside the doors, waving at us when she spots us. “So. Heard yesterday was quite eventful, huh? Next time Jake decides to annoy you, just drop my name, and he’ll back off,” she says as we reach her.

“We’ll keep that in mind,” Ann giggles. We head inside, and Nini guides us in the direction of our next class. We still have another fifteen minutes, but we’d like to be in good time, seeing as we missed the first lesson yesterday because we are new and needed a tour and everything.

The classroom’s up ahead, someone’s already standing outside the door, not blocking it though. Wait, is that Roman? Huh. His wardrobe is completely different from yesterday. Ann noticed him too. “Hey, Roman,” she says when we get close enough. He looks up, and did he dye his hair since yesterday? Because I don’t recall that grey streak in his hair. Then again, I only met the guy yesterday.

Roman starts laughing. Well, more like cackling, really. That… is not the reaction I expected at all. And from the way Ann mirrors my surprise and confusion, neither did she. I look around us, searching with my eyes as to what could be so funny. A guy (I assume, but still gonna refer with gender-neutral pronouns until I know for sure) is standing close by and looks like a confused bean. Like, literally. Looks like the definition of an innocent bean. Blue shirt, glasses, a cardigan tied around the shoulders, and a long skirt on.

“Remus? What’s going on?” they ask as they move closer.

REMUS?! The hell?! I glance at Anastacia. She looks as shocked as I am; mouth ajar and everything. Does this mean that yesterday was some sort of planned out practical joke? That they gave us fake names just to ridicule us today in school?

I can see their mouth moving, feel Ann’s hand on my arm, but I can’t hear. Shit! Not having a panic attack now! Not gonna happen! Pull yourself together, Virgil! Don’t need to make a bigger fool out of yourself than you already have. Breathe in for four seconds, hold for seven, and out for eight. Repeat.

“…iddo?” Great, I can hear again. My eyes focus again. The others are staring at me. Did I miss something? I tilt my head a bit to the side, Ann knows it means I’m listening but think I might’ve missed something in the conversation. Which I clearly did just now.

“Hey, there, kiddo. Glad you’re joining us again,” the person in the skirt says. “My name is Patton, he/him,” he smiles. He seems really bubbly, it’s actually a calming atmosphere to be in. I smile faintly at him to make sure he knows I heard him. I can hear footsteps in the distance.

He opens his mouth to say some more, but someone interrupts. Someone who wasn’t there before. And looks like Patton. Like, apart from the heterochromia and some lighter patches of skin on the left side of their face, they are identical. And now my confused state has increased. “Could you keep it down, Remus? I could hear you all the way at the end of the hallway,” they drawl, pointing over their shoulder, down the long hallway.

“Oh, heya, Janus!” Patton waves energetically. “I made some new friends! I think.” He looks at me, smiling. He then looks back at the newcomer, Janus, and starts explaining what just happened to make ‘Remus’ laugh like that.

She smiles (Patton mentioned her pronouns somewhere in his explanation. It went too fast for me to get the context for why he mentioned her pronouns, okay?) and chuckles a bit. “I can understand why you look so utterly confused. You two ran into Roman yesterday, right?” she asks. Her voice is smooth and a bit deep. I can see Ann nod in my periphery. “It is most likely that he didn’t mention Remus at all. You just met, after all. But, they are not the same person. They are twins. Identical twins. Patton and I are twins as well if you were wondering, which I can only assume you were. We are not identical twins, but we look very similar still,” she explains, and now I feel like a total fool. And idiot. Of course, they are twins. That’s what makes the most sense. I’m getting a headache. “Oh, and I am genderfluid, so keep watch of my necklace,” she winks.

I look towards Anastacia, my anxiety forgotten. ‘I am getting a headache. There are three pairs of twins, not including us, here. This is gonna get confusing fast,’ I sign to her, to which she nods.

“Yeah, it is,” she agrees, taking my hand. “But we’re here together, so we get to share our confusion,” she winks.

“Oh, this is only half of us, darling,” Janus smirks. “But we should get to class, it’s about to start. Have fun.” She starts walking back down the hall. “By the way.” She stops and looks over her shoulder. “Welcome to the Twin Squad.”

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a-singleboat · 5 years ago

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Dead Light Green Light

Word Count: 2212

Smosh Summer Games: Apocalypse Masterlist

You stood next to Damien, right before the cameras started rolling. The two of you were talking about nothing in particular, mainly comments here and there about the crew as they moved to set up their equipment. You swapped stories on what you had done before Smosh, him being an actor for So Random before it ended and you being an assistant to the director of some Indie Film company.

Smosh was one of the more limited opportunities you had found yourself with and you weren’t sure if you were going to stick around. You loved the energy everyone gave off and would want to continue to be friends with all of them despite Joven having almost run you over not ever a few minutes before the start of the day.

You and Damien got one last joke in before places were called and everyone bunched up together for the shot. In hindsight, standing directly behind Lasercorn was not the smartest as you were not the tallest person you had ever met.

“Smosh Summer Games: Apocalypse!”

Starting each video like that would eventually get you hoarse if you weren’t already. You tried to step out from behind Lasercorn to appear in the camera’s view but realized that if you stepped out anymore, you would be out of the shot.

Damien, noticing your struggle, took you by the shoulders and switched places with you as Sarah explained the game and its rules.

“Welcome to Dead Light, Green Light! So, this is kind of a complicated game but its kind of like, ‘Marco Polo’ meets red light green light, kind of musical chairs. It’s a lot of hybrids of everything.”

Courtney turned around and did her wiggles, prompting you to wiggle along with her, creating a bubble between you two.

“So basically, one team will be humans and one team will be zombies, who are also blindfolded with masks on their heads. So when music is playing, the zombies can move. Humans cannot. When there is no music playing, humans can run away from the zombies. The point of the game is for the zombies to tag the humans, whoever has the most humans alive at the end of the round gets that many points.”

Ian leaned forward over Ryan. “It’s also a cross over of weekend at Bernie’s, the dead people only move when there’s music playing.”

Matt Raub confirmed that it was just like Weekend at Bernie’s before Sarah continued with rule explanation.

“Each team will have the chance to be zombies,” she looked around to the child-like adults gathered around her. “Any questions, comments, or concerns?”

“Are we all going at once?” Ian asked, a look of confusion overtaking his features.

“Yes, you are,” Sarah confirmed.

Matt held up a zombie mask and shook it around. “Alright, who wants to go first?”

Lasercorn was quick to offer up the Mushroom Clout team to bat first, no arguments ensued. Shortly after you all disbanded, a few members at a time were taken aside to interview for the upcoming challenge.

It was you, Damien, and Keith that was grouped together for the interview. The question was asked on how you would catch the humans.

“My strategy is, you know those blow-up dolls outside of car dealerships? The funky noodle men that just wave their arms and their bodies around? Yeah, that’s basically going to be me.” You started to wave your arms around in demonstration, making the big swooping motions around you.

“Yeah, well if I’m a zombie, my strategy is just to listen,” Keith said, bringing up a valid point. “Right? ‘Cause if I’m blindfolded, I’m just gonna take it the old-school way, just listen. Hopefully, they don’t try to stir me the wrong way, but beyond that just listen.”

“That’s good conflict resolution in life,” Damien nodded, a dopey smile across his face.

“Are you guys listening to me right now?”

“What’s up?”

Soon enough, we were sent out in our zombie masks, all on an outer circle around the other team. It was kind of like fishbowl-style, the outside looking in. Except the outside couldn’t see and the fish could escape the bowl.

From the opposite side of the circle, you could hear Courtney yell, though you couldn’t make out what she was yelling exactly. Shortly after, you heard music playing faintly behind you which signaled you to move.

You couldn’t see anything, which was the point, but you were terrified of either tripping over yourself or another person. You took your steps forward slowly but surely, making sure you had a solid foot on the ground before taking the next step. You were sure that it looked comedic to anyone who would be watching later on.

You moved your arms around in a big sweeping motion, hoping to catch someone this way. The music stopped playing, causing you to falter in your steps.

You heard Mari get out before the music started again, you continue to sweep your arms out. You ran into another person, causing you to stumble back a little.

“You guys are hitting each other!” Sarah called out, causing you to step back and giggle.

“Aw, that’s adorable,” you heard come from the person you ran into.

“Damien?”

“Yes, that is I.”

You felt your cheeks flare up at the compliment, though you weren’t completely sure that the compliment was even directed at you.

You took a few steps in the opposite direction and froze when the music stopped playing.

You heard Shayne and Olivia both get out, getting the slightest it frustrated. “I know I’m already blind, but this is taking it to a whole ‘nother level,” you said, opting to make a joke instead of letting the frustration get to you.

You took a mental count in your head, if Olivia, Shayne, and Mari were out, that only left Ian, Wes, and Joven.

During the next silence, Joven got tagged out and all you could hear was Shayne screaming. Your body shook with laughter as he continued to screech. Somehow, they got him to calm down enough so that music could play again.

In the next silence, Shayne started to screech again. You wouldn’t know if you could keep this up if he screamed during each silence.

Lucky for you, the next two people were quickly eliminated, bringing Mushroom Clout’s turn as zombies to an end.

There was a break to allow people to drink water, which was important on a hot day such as this. You and Damien found your way to each other once again.

“Hey,” you greeted him. “I’m sorry for running into you.”

“We can’t know who ran into who, we were blindfolded.”

The two of you had found a secluded corner away from all the chaos that ensued after a section was shot. Luckily, the spot you had chosen was shaded over by the miniature set that had to be constructed for the crew to stay cool.

“So, what do you plan to do after this?”

“I might go back to trying my hand at becoming a director,” you rolled your neck, getting the kinks out from having to keep your head upright to prevent the mask from falling off. “I know some people who could at least get me back into the filming arena.”

“Why don’t you stay on with Smosh?”

“If I’m going to be honest with you, Smosh doesn’t seem like the end-all for me right now. You guys are all my friends, but I don’t see me staying really. I don’t have much to stay for and even if I did, if I got an offer to work on a movie I wouldn’t say no.”

Damien sat in thought for a while, nodding along to what you were saying. “Why don’t you just stay on part-time then? Like Lasercorn and Joven are doing?”

“I hadn’t really thought about that actually.”

“Yeah, I’m sure something could work out.”

You looked at Damien, taking a sip of your water. “Why do you want me to stay so badly? We hardly know each other.”

He shrugged and opened his mouth to answer. Before he could get the words out, however, Joven came crashing into your little bubble.

“Hey guys,” he stopped to look at how close the two of you were sitting. “Whoa, am I interrupting something?”

You shook your head no, accepting Damien’s hand in helping you stand up. “We were just talking.”

“Well, if that’s the case,” he glanced between the two of you and you felt your cheeks heat up. “It’s time to get back to filming.”

You were in the same groups as last time, with the question on being how you would avoid the zombies.

“As a kid, I would sneak out of the house to go to the dog park and meet all the dogs there because I wasn’t allowed out,” you shared the bit of insight on your life. “I found that walking on the side of your foot is quieter than walking on your toes. I don’t know how that will translate to this game but we’ll see.”

You all stood in the middle, backs facing each other. As soon as Sarah gave the go-ahead, you darted out to the space in between Mari and Olivia. You turned around to see Noah take off his shoes and throw them in the opposite direction of where he would be traveling.

You crouched down, using whatever flexibility you had to your advantage. You froze in your spot as the music started to play, making yourself as small as possible. You watched as Mari and Olivia walked in the opposite directions from you, suppressing a snicker when you saw them meander away.

You watched as three members got out right off the bat, Wes tripping over Noah, Joven getting Courtney, and Lasercorn tripping up both Shayne and Mari.

There was a close call with Joven, you falling backward before having to scramble out fast right when the music stopped.

A few more rounds passed you by, you found yourself creeping along the end. It wasn’t until Shayne ran headfirst into Wes’s nether regions that you decided you had made it far enough into the game. You laughed out loud, unintentionally. Figuring that you cover was already blown and that no one was close enough to you, you made a comment.

“Shayne!” you called out. “Don’t hurt the man, you know he wants to be a dad!”

“Yeah, Shayne!” your teammates, rang out, trying to create more sound to confuse the blindfolded zombies.

That was apparently the wrong move because Joven steadily stumbled in your direction, getting lucky and catching your shoulder with his knee. You squeaked, turning away before getting up and walking to your tagged teammates.

You watched as Damien tripped Wes in an attempt to get away, the big giant looking as if he was falling in slow motion. When Damien joined you in the shade, he pushed back the fabric he had draped over his head and let it rest around his shoulders.

“Would you want to go on a date?” he asked, nervously pulling at the bottom of his shirt.

“I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer that,” he was quick to turn away. “I don’t even know why I asked, I never usually do.”

You caught his hand when he tried to walk away from you. “I would love to go on a date with you, name a time and place and I’ll be there.”

“Awesome,” he pulled the black fabric back over his head and you both made your way back onto the field to watch the game that had become multiple cats and one mouse.

Eventually, Joven stupidly caught Keith around the waist with his outstretched arm, effectively ending the game. The round was called and Toxicitea tore off their masks to hear us walking towards Keith while chanting, “MVP! MVP!”

You got called for after-game interviews, you being paired with Keith and Noah for the end. You mockingly made a heart around the two with your hands. “I ship Koah.” Noah lightly pushed you as you mussed up his hair like an older sibling would.

You listened as Keith talked about winning the round, crediting the team for making sounds to throw off the other team. Ian and Mari crashed your interview, comedically calling Mushroom Clout out for cheating.

Eventually, you were given another break for water and you and Damien found yourselves standing with Shayne and Wes.

“How are your nuts doing?” you asked.

“They’re fine now, I’ll still be able to have kids,” Wes faked a dirty glare in Shayne’s direction before the four of you dissolved into laughter. “But good game.”

“Good game,” you agreed, taking a few more sips of water. “What’s next?”

“Scores and then we break for lunch,” Shayne answered.

“And it looks like they’re calling us for scores now,” Damien commented.

You all made your way back to the cameras, arranging yourselves around Matt and Sarah. Mushroom Clout had won with an extra thirty-eight seconds on the field. You had hugged Damien out of excitement and he left his arm slung around your shoulders for up until you all screamed, “Smosh Summer Games: Apocalypse!”

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pops-and-kids · 6 years ago

Text

5 per commander THIS BE A LONG POST BOI LET’S GO

Pops:

Only somewhat decent with math. He didn’t really get an education and instead learned on the go by book. Most of his math related knowledge revolves around ship related things as he was already on a pirate crew at a young age.

NEVER. FORGETS. A NAME. How he does this no one knows, but he ALWAYS can put a name to a face, even after only meeting them once.

He can sing pretty well, and because of his larger than life lung capacity he can sing for quite a while without having to take a breath.

Whitebeard isn’t against female pirates, but the courtesies from when he was younger, like “open a door for a lady” and “offer to take a ladies coat for her” are so ingrained in his mind that he prefers they stay out of the line of fire and protect them. Of course this doesn’t apply to every woman on the ship as they are capable fighters and he wouldn’t hold them back against their will.

Loves picking up and holding his children. If someone needs attention or is having a rough time he will pick them up and hold them close; Unless they’re too large in which case he’ll just hug them.

Marco:

Has made a bird joke about himself once and regrets it. Thatch will never let him live it down.

Whenever someone yells his name to get his attention there’s at least 5 people who yell out “polo” in response at all times.

Actually somewhat nearsighted and needs glasses but refuses to wear them.

When the crew was smaller he used to turn into his bird form and sleep on Pop’s shoulder. Now he won’t unless they’re in private.

He has a bad leg. Despite his healing abilities his right leg tends to ache after fights.

His neck acts the same in human form as it does in bird form when he’s not paying attention and coffee deprived. It’s kind of both hilarious AND unsettling.

Ace:

There’s a billboard in the dining hall to remind people to catch Ace before he face plants in his food during a narcoleptic episode. Do people listen to it? No, but it’s there.

Was shipwright enemy #1 during the 100 days of trying to kill Pops. It’s still joked about to this day.

Can actually fly with his fire but hasn’t trained with it enough for it to be viable.

He can control fire, but only to a certain extent. If there’s a cart on fire he can try and drag it to him, but a forest fire or a large house is impossible. His own fire can be put out easily by his will, but non-devil fruit related fires has a will of their own.

Had never seen a horse before and Haruta took advantage of that fact, convincing him they didn’t exist. Naturally, when he first saw one he freaked out and legit thought they were some mythical or extinct creature.

Jozu:

Loves hard candies because of the baffled and horrified expressions everyone gives him as he cracks through 3 jawbreakers like it’s nothing a la diamond teeth.

He’s well known for throwing himself over his family to protect them. In cases were the Moby is taking canon fire suddenly and there’s people too close to the railing he wont hesitant to yank them out of the way and turn himself into diamond to protect them.

When scared or startled he will freeze up like a deer in headlights. It would be funny if his fight or flight instinct didn’t kick in seconds later and now there’s a human shaped hole in the wall.

Wears tank tops and jeans on a daily basis. That armour is stuffy and you think he wears it 24/7? Hell no.

Nervous eater.

Thatch:

Has like 40 recipe books and knows which one has what recipe he wants.

His memory isn’t as impressive as Pops, but he KNOWS when he recognizes a face, even when he has no idea what their name is.

Keeps track of what you like and dislike religiously.

How did he get that scar? Who knows! It’s a different story each time

He just wants everyone to be happy and feel loved, which has led to him earning many scars both physically and emotionally.

Vista:

Sings in the shower 100%

GREAT during parties on islands! Not only does he have plenty of tricks to show but he can mix a damn good drink as well.

Would 100% be that one kid in drama club that takes things too far.

Scarily good actor and it’s a good thing he’s naturally honest. If he were to lie in your face you wouldn’t know unless he told you.

If you hear “Do you want to hear a story?” prepare for a roller coaster of emotions.

Blamenco:

WILL GIVE YOU THE BIGGEST HUG IN ALL THE LAND

Soft boi

His weight fluctuates with how much is in his pockets. If he’s near empty he’s much thinner and muscular looking, but carrying a lot and he has his signature lorge friend shape.

Can’t hold a living creature in his pockets for too long without it feeling too weird.

Doesn’t hold items for Haruta and Thatch all too often due to unknowingly hiding weapons of war (aka prank items)

Not a hoarder despite what one may think upon seeing his devil fruit

Rakuyo:

Macey is a demonic chain chomp and you can’t say otherwise.

He’s constantly added more details and layers to his outfits. He’s not into fashion, but he definitely has an eye for it.

Takes the quickest showers out of anyone

Has daggers under his clothes. Never unarmed.

Room is tediously cleaned except when he’s having a fit. You can always tell his mental state by the state of his room.

Namur:

Never hated humans like some fishman, but was very wary of them before meeting Pops.

His division has other fishman in it, but they mainly stay in the water and are rarely seen on the ship.

Any jokes about cannibalism because of the ‘fish’ side of fishman will result in a retort about him maybe being a cannibal of the ‘man’ side. He’s scared newbies half to death with this.

His room has been mistaken as a bathroom as he doesn’t have a bed or bathroom but instead a shallow pool with shells and coral from the sea.

Has fought to the death with other fishman to protect his family and has seen his family fight to the death with other humans for him. He’s not proud of it and hates how things get that far.

Blenheim:

Carries family around on his shoulders often because he can.

When he has a task he hyper focuses on it, even if it means he pulls an all nighter to finish.

Loves obstacle courses and if it weren’t for his immense size would probably complete Wipe Out or American Ninja Warrior in record time.

Is very indecisive about things outside of work. Knows EXACTLY what parts be needs to keep the ship going but has NO idea what the hell he wants for lunch.

May seem intimidating but is very much a teddy bear on the inside

Curiel:

“WHATEVER YOU DO DON’T FILL A SUPER BIG GULP CUP WITH FIVE HOUR ENERGY AND CHUG THE WHOLE THING”

Has a manic episode at least 3 times a week.

Colour blind. His goggles are tinted red because of a formula that allows him to see colour. They’re also a hybrid of eye protection and glasses.

Is covered in scars from both childhood and projects gone wrong, mainly on his back and legs.

Has invented a duck-themed weapon just so he can yell “DUCK” and it actually be a duck. A duck that is a bomb, that is.

Kingdew:

Has an AMAZING singing voice and can play the guitar. When the crew has parties he’s always nominated to play.

Has written songs before but is too shy to share them. Thatch stole one of his song sheets before and ended up in the nurse's room after a thorough asswhooping.

Soft boi x2

Is farsighted and needs glasses to read small print, but he doesn’t need them outside of that.

The rings that seemingly bolt his cape to his shoulders are actually there for medical reason.

Haruta:

Partially blind. Their eye colour isn’t like that for no reason. They aren’t fully blind however, and can still see distinct features, silhouettes, and some very watered down colour.

Because of their partial blindness Haruta actually has some of the strongest haki out of the whitebeard crew as they use it to navigate around. Started haki training under Marco and Izou and it grew very strong as they developed.

Learned their double sword technique from Vista, who is also their closest brother.

A complete lil shit. An absolute gremlin. 100% a memelord.

Has a hoard of assorted doo-dads. They have bags full of stuff that seemingly has no purpose, but they have it. Also has a very extensive bottle cap collection!

Atmos:

The jolly green giant.

Loves partying and drinking and likes to live in the moment.

Need a hug? Go to Atmos, he’ll hug you and let you cry it out while telling you some nice stories.

“MY HELMET IS STUCK” “Maybe you shouldn’t CHARGE LIKE AND ACTUAL BULL then”

Braids his beard when nervous.

Jiru:

Dyslexic. He was trying to fix this before he met Pops as he truly did want to be a doctor, but couldn’t because of his condition. When he met Pops, however, he not only gave him a chance, but assisted him in overcoming it.

Since his division is 85% nurses he knows ALL the ship gossip and rumors. And he WILL use it against you if you refuse treatment.

Goes stir crazy when not on an island for a long time. The boy needs to run free!

Is allergic to cats but he must pet them each time he sees one. Who cares if he’s sneezing for the next hour and can’t see, he got to pet that cute calico!

He’s tried to get his siblings to use shields, but so far only a handful do. A shield isn’t just for protection, it can also be used as a weapon and he wishes more people saw them as less of a cheap cop-out and more of a defensive tactic.

Fossa:

Is the quietest commander, not for shyness or lack of things to say, but because he prefers to plan his words carefully and watch those around him.

Works at a steady pace and encourages others to do so to lessen injury and stress.

Always has a cigar on him and a collection of lighters.

Pops may be their father but Fossa is very much the uncle of the crew and some see him as a second father figure.

The flaming sword was an accident but it’s a perfect intimidation weapon, especially for when he doesn’t actually feel like fighting.

Izou:

The designs he has on some of his guns were made by him and done by Fossa.

Has been accused of wearing a wig before because of how perfectly kept his hair is. The accuser was tied to the mast for 3 hours until the shipwrights could figure out how to undo the knots.

Got gossip? Izou already knows.

Will sell your soul for a cornchip if you piss him off badly enough.

Doesn’t wear kimono’s 24/7 despite what you may think. That’s his go-to outfit, yes, but his wardrobe is expansive, going from from crop tops and shorts to expensive suits and elaborate dresses and kimonos

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