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magicalfxgirl · 4 years ago

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LO characters sorted into Hogwarts houses Part 3

Part 3 is where all the gods who are related directly and or I had to find a place to put them for the sake of the blog. All these gods also live in Olympus thus here are with Part 3 of the characters of LO sorted in their respective houses. So without furthur a do, let's begin. Bewarned this blog was first posted on Amino. I just thought why not post it here.

🎓Athena🎓

All I have to say is that Athena is Hufflepuff with Ravenclaw energy. It does not need any explaination, its just makes sense.

Hestia: The Secrect Slytherin

Hestia maybe the most unproblematic god in the original greeks myths, but in Lore Olympus that could not be furthur from the truth. She may look like the LO version of Helga Hufflepuff, but that could not be furthur from the truth. She is controling towards the membetrs of TGOEM, for example getting mad at Persephone for interacting with Hades without when he is literally her boss and she is an adult. Blaming Persephone for the tabliod once again Persephone was literally druged and woke up there. Also wasn't Artemis supposed to be watching her so where was she. Hestia is obcessed with appearences of her organization. She will also do anything to get funding for it, welcoming Hades in when there was a chance at his bank account after lecturing Kore against him. In truth Hestia feels like a woman set in the old ways of propriety believing women should remain pure. Frankly TGOEM seems like her way to push her own outdated agenda under the facade of being a progressive femnist group. Her narcissm made her okay with Demeter forcing Kore into TGOEM even though it was the girls only option to escape her controling mother. Instead of being a supportive mother figure Hestia used Kore's situation for her own gain and to get control over the young goddess. Hestia's gentle appearance hides a narcistic controling manipulative hag. Her actions and personality fit perfectly with Slytherin. As she does whatever to get what she wants, is stuck in the oldways. Hestia is LO's version Dolores Umbridge, they appear to be sweet , but inside they are cruel and selfish. For these reasons Hestia would shock everyone when the Sorting Hat, shouted Slytherin the moment it landed on her head.

🏹Artemis: The Broken Gryffindor

Artemis was a easy choice, she is a Gryffindor. She is rash to act even if she does not know all the facts. Artemis also is blind to those closest to her who mean harm. Cough Asspollo. Cough Peter Petigrew. She tries her best and has chilvarious nature. The only Gryffindor trait she lacks is the ability to break the rules. Although that may have to do with her childhood. Even without being Zeus's daughter it seems that sibling dynamic from the myths is still in play. That could mean she had the same early life where right after her birth she had to help her mom get through the birth of Asspollo. In order to make things easier on everybody she tries to be perfect. She has tried so hard to be perfect that she neglects the world around her. Something many a Gryffindor have had to also faced. In the end of the day Artemis is person who is trying to be a good person, but is crippled due to wanting fullfill others expectation. TGOEM in many ways has broken Artemis making her a shell of the godess she should. Hopefully at the end of the story Artemis will start an organization with Persephone to help other girls achieve their dreams.

Hermes: The Prankster Gryffindor

Hermes was the easiest decision ever as he is what would happen if either Fred or George Weasely became a god. Full of energy, the life of the party, while also being a bit reckless. Hermes is a Gryffindor through and through. He looks nice, but hurt his friends and he will make you pay. Some people may think he only wants to keep Persephone's secrect due to fearing Demeter's wrath or being punished by Hades for fuding the record. The fact is Hermes has put himself in danger in order to hang out with her. Case in point nearly drowned while hiding in lake from Demeter while hanging out with Kore. He only took the money as you don't refuse Demeter. Overall Hermes is an example of a natural Gryffindor. Also for those who thought he was a Hufflepuff he is way to lazy. He might me the messenger of the gods, but he avoids work as much as Neville avoided Snape. Hermes is also a rule breaker a common trait among Gryffindor as he is the god of Theives. He also seems to manage to get lucky whenever trouble comes. No different from his house manages to win the House Cup despite all points taken away due to rule breaking.

Hephaestus The Innovator

Hephaestus would be a hat stall between Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. As Hufflepuff excepts all, which would give him the needed support. Still its Ravenclaw that the Sorting Hat would eventually choose for him. Frankly Hephaestus would doubt his placement in Ravenclaw, but based on his love for his craft it would be the place where he could truely succeed. He is inventor, literally building mutiple robots in the original mythology. They may not be called robots, but they were robots. Beings made of metal that could work on their own, thus robots. Magical robots, but still robots. His professors may not understand his craft at first, but after seeing his results he would be praised by all. Although only after making sure it was not a new form of Dark Magic. Hephaestus would be viewed a vissionary and would make Head boy upon his secound year. Becoming the youngest person to get the title, yet all of his housemates would think it well deserved. Maybe starting his own area of magic study. As his form would mix magic with smithery and technology. Bringing the Magical World into a modern age. Overall Hephaetus is a Ravenclaw with some Hufflepuff.

Asspollo: Expelled and sent to Azkaban

He would be expelled for misuse of magic and will likely end up in Azkaban for evil acts. All of it done the moment he got his wand. Asspollo did not even make through the doors of Hogwarts thus was never sorted into a house. He spends the rest of his days trying to avoid the Dementor's kiss and the rest of the world moves on.

Conclusion

Sorry about the Hestia rant, but it only jusy hit me how evil she really is. Kore left one controling figure for another. Despite the results of living with Artemis, things would have been way worse if she had been living with Hestia. One she would have never met hades. Two Hestia would have prevented her from any friendships outside of TGOEM, thus no Hermes or Eros. Frankly Hestia would have led to Kore having an even bigger break down then what happened with Earth. An event I don't think Kore would ever come out of. Thank you so much for your time and I hope you agreed with my choices. Next up is the shortest section as it focuses on the Nymphs along with two notable side characters who are not nymphs. Lastly no Echo as she has not done anything yet. Oh and I decieded to add one more part to this series, the pets of Olympus and their Dogwarts houses. Sorry I had to make the pun. As always I hope you enjoyed part 3 of this blog series.

#lore olympus #hogwarts houses #hogwarts #lore olympus hermes #lore olympus athena #lore olympus apollo #lore olympus hestia #lore olympus hephaestus #lore olympus artemis

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janekfan · 4 years ago

Link

Click.

Jon,

I trust you’ll have the statement I left for you this afternoon recorded by end of work day tomorrow.

Regards,

Click.

Jon,

If you are to be useful in your position as Archivist, speak to your employees about what it means to research properly. I expect to see marked improvement following your discussion.

Regards,

Click.

Jon,

You must have forgotten to record the statement from last week. I understand. It takes time to settle into a new position. Still, you have new responsibility and you know I hold you in high esteem. Tomorrow will have to do.

Regards,

Click.

Jon,

Apologies for the late notice. Record the statement Rosie provided you prior to your leaving today. It is imperative.

Regards,

Click.

Jon,

Please refrain from spending the night in the Archives. It is a liability. I’m sure you understand.

Regards,

Jon cradled his head in his hands, massaging the tension taking up residence in his temples and rubbing his itchy, aching eyes. These were only the latest in a very long list of emails he could never seem to keep up with. As soon as he made his way through them, reordered his plans for the day, accepted a new assignment from Elias, always given at the very last minute, Jon’s morning was already eaten up. He’d taken to arriving an hour or two early just to give himself more time to organize his plan of attack.

Like clockwork, Martin arrived with a mug of tea prepared exactly the way he preferred it.

“Thank you, Martin.” Gratefully, he cradled the hot ceramic in his palms, waiting until the heat seeping through the walls became nearly unbearable before taking a sip and closing his eyes in the briefest ecstasy. As a researcher Jon doubted he’d get much out of him, at least not for a while. It seemed as though they had something in common--he was as inept at his job as Jon was at his.

“Pardon me for saying, but, Jon, you look terrible.” He felt terrible. Sore and tired and overwhelmed. This new job felt like drowning and for the life of him he couldn’t figure out why Elias chose him over Sasha. She had so much experience, was so much more capable.

“I will not. Now, thank you again for the tea. Please return to your desk and continue with the statement I gave you three days ago.” Properly chastised and flushing bright red, Martin stumbled over his farewells as poorly as he stumbled out the door. Jon took a breath that achieved nothing, then took another, trying to clear his head enough to read through a statement. With how far behind he’d fallen he really should read through two but the ones he ended up documenting on those old tape recorders made him feel strange, dazed and drained, like he’d spent the time sprinting instead of speaking. The phone rang, harsh electronic chattering jolting him awake and he glanced frantically at his watch; only a few minutes.

Hell, Jon.

At least pretend you know what you’re doing.

Isn’t that what Georgie always said? Fake it till you make it?

Gingerly, he lifted the phone from its cradle.

“Sims, Archivist.”

“Jon.” Of course. He’d already known. “I trust you’ve had a productive morning.” It was as though he was watching his every move and Jon surreptitiously skimmed over the room, searching for cameras while knowing even if they did exist, he would never find them.

“Y’yes. Yes, of course.” An oily sensation trickled down the seam of his spine and he had a sneaking suspicion that Elias could tell he was lying. “I’ll have that recording up to you straight away.”

“Glad to hear it.” There was amusement there, cold and calculating. Jon didn’t like being played with and Elias reminded him too much of a cat with a mouse. “I’ll be waiting. Jon.” The delicate severing of the line failed to make the watching any less. All the same he plucked the statement off the top of his pile knowing already not to bother with his laptop and sank into the smog and the smoke, gasping as the written words closed over his face and buried him in obscurity.

“Statement ends.” He heaved a breath, shuffled through the notes he did have to allow himself time to get his trembling fingers under control. “Supplemental. Victim does not appear to have any connections to, uh, well, anyone. It appears as though they cut themselves off to family and friends long before their voyage. They have never been found.” Lord, he hoped that would be sufficient for Elias. But he didn’t have any additional information and so it would have to do. Groaning between teeth clenched near hard enough to crack his jaw, Jon pillowed his heavy head on folded arms until the room stopped its spinning. A notification rang out, echoing painfully in the space between his ears.

A new email.

And rather than reading it, Jon took up the tape, packaging it neatly in an envelope on the way out of his office and toward Elias.

Jon,

You recall, of course, your promise the other day. I wish to inquire about the whereabouts of the paperwork I was expecting this morning.

Regards,

Click.

Jon,

Do try to arrive to work on time.

Regards,

Click.

Jon,

Did you forget about our lunch meeting? We shall reschedule.

Regards,

Jon thumbed through the calendar on his phone, disappointing himself with the distinct lack of invites to this mysterious lunch meeting. He went as far as to search his inbox. He’d never delete an email, preferring a papertrail himself, and could not find a thing. But Elias sounded so sure that Jon began to doubt his own memory. He’d been tired, working several late nights in a row. It was possible he forgot. He did that when he failed to write things down. He buried both hands in his curls and pulled. Damn it, all. Jon. Get a hold of yourself. Do your job.

Doggedly and with manic determination, Jon chewed through the stacks of files arranged in order of importance, lessening their number by a considerable amount and he was exhausted. Elias had kept calling with inane and frankly useless information at all the wrong moments, spiking his already rabbiting heart rate because no, he hadn’t yet had a moment to go over the first statement sent along today let alone the following three. Slowing the rise and fall of his chest deliberately, Jon pressed a palm over his upset and sore stomach.

Work was piling up at such a rate that Jon had the brilliant idea of taking home a messenger bag chock-a-block full each night. He’d been told off thrice about falling asleep in the archives and at least when he passed out in his own flat he was caught by couch cushions instead of the solid pine of his cheap desk. Alright, finally. Large, uninterrupted swathes of time in the evenings and on weekends and he was finally, finally catching up with all of his back log. The tight fist of anxiety clutched mercilessly around his lungs and stealing away any chance of a full breath began to loosen. He could do this. He was passable at this job.

He arrived Monday, bright and early, unloading his completed work and filing it all carefully and neatly away. A thing of beauty he took a moment to be proud of.

Until he sat down to check his emails.

Jon,

Statements are the property of the Magnus Institute and should not be removed from the premises. I trust you understand and this oversight will not happen again.

Regards,

Projecting an air of confidence he most certainly did not possess, Jon approached Tim and Sasha with a short stack of files he hoped to divide between them. Understandably, they were cross with him for taking the position even though he really had very little say in the matter. He was hopeful their chilly attitude towards him would thaw over time because he missed them and they were his friends even if they were taking time away from him at the moment. Honestly, he’d like to take time away from himself and his mistakes and the crushing one tonne weight of his inability.

“What can we do you for, boss?” Tim’s new nickname for him didn’t altogether sound like a positive thing but Jon decided there was no use bringing it up. Especially when he’d come to beg favors. His voice got stuck in his throat and he cleared it, apprehensive and wishing he’d never had this idea.

“Hullo.” He nodded to each of them. Why was this so awkward? Because they hate you, you prat. “I’m, I wouldn’t normally ask, I know you’re working hard on the tasks I’ve already assigned you. But. I’m a touch overwhelmed?” He chuffed a laugh, it was either that or sob. “And, if you’re not too busy I. I’m sorry, I just.” As covertly as possible, he blinked away tears. “I need some help.” He held his breath. Swallowed nervously. Worried his bottom lip.

“Sorry boss.” And Tim looked so contrite the crashing guilt broke over Jon like a wave. “I’m still in the middle of the other things you asked me to do.” Sasha was next, tilting her head in sympathy, a small, sad smile not quite reaching her eyes.

“We’re all busy, Jon.” Gently, she spoke, probably trying to spare his feelings. “You should know, being the one passing out the work and all.” Oh. He’d thought. His desk was still piled impossibly high and Sasha and Tim had a few each but. No. Stop it, you know they're better suited to this than you. You know it. Don't blame your friends for your own ineptitude. They’d all been working so hard, he distinctly remembered recording and filing their work and Martin’s.

“Of course, it’s. I’m sorry. I’ll do better in the future.”

“Thanks, boss.”

Wonderful. Now he was trying to offload his own problems by putting undue pressure on his assistants and with as much as he was under he’d have thought he knew better than to burden them like that. It certainly didn’t make his job any easier. But. But he had thought they might be finished on some of the follow through, it had been some time. Okay. Alright. No harm done, not really, he murmured to himself, tucking the files under his arm and retreating to the safety of his office. He could brush off his researching skills and help out, it hadn’t been that long. If he planned better he could alleviate some of their stress.

Jon,

Going forward, I would appreciate if you would check over the work of your assistants to make certain all is well before being recorded and filed.

Regards,

It was a Tuesday.

He knew that because on Tuesdays Martin arrived an hour later. Something to do with taking care of his mum. Without knowing that, Jon wasn’t sure he’d know at all.

His stomach hurt.

There hadn’t been much time for sleeping, not with coming in over the weekend to sort through and double check perfectly adequate research. Why did Elias allow him to choose assistants in the first place then? What was the point if one didn’t trust their expertise? Tim and Sasha didn’t need him double checking their work. Even Martin wasn’t in need of it beyond a few grammar corrections. Regardless, he’d done it and he’d made quick progress. Perhaps he should have been spending his weekends at the Institute this whole time. He shivered, incredibly cold despite extra socks and an additional jumper. Cor, but he was dizzy, barely able to hold his head up on a weak and wobbly neck. Pretty sure he’d forgotten to eat yesterday. Hasn’t yet today and with the pain in his stomach he didn’t plan to. What did he have Sunday? Jon gave up wracking his clouded brain in favor of laying his hot cheek against the cool wood of the desk. Stacks of files and envelopes and notes so high he couldn’t see over them formed thick, impenetrable walls between him and the outside world. Was nice. Focusing his eyes on a brilliant pink tag, Jon let it take up his vision until it swam out of focus and tears slipped over the bridge of his nose, running down his cheek to the scarred surface. It was too easy to cry. He was being overdramatic, whinging because he was incompetant at his job and frightened he would lose it despite doing fuck all to earn it in the first place.

“Jon?” Angrily, he scrubbed the tears away before sitting up. “Oh! There you are. Wow, that’s. Well, that’s a lot of work.”

“I’ve noticed.” Irritated at being caught doing nothing, Jon scowled.

“I. Is there something I can do? To help?” Any closer and he’d surely notice that he’d been crying like a child over their schoolwork. Snapping, Jon let a defensive growl add a sharp, snapping edge to his words they didn’t need.

“Maybe if you spent more time researching and less on making tea.”

“Oh. Y’yes. I--of course.” The man stuttered around his apologies, leaving the tea behind on the corner of his desk before fleeing the room. Well, no surprise there. Jon Sims. Resident arsehole. He let his cheekbone smack into the wood, accepting his worsening migraine as a matter of course, deserving it. Through the valley between two mountainous heaps he could see just the handle of the mug. His favorite mug, if he was prone to those sorts of things.

Jon drank his tea as an apology and let the emails pile up in his inbox and the phone go to voicemail.

“Jon.” With no small measure of difficulty, Jon levered himself upright with brittle stick and string arms. He hurt all over. Sore and stiff and cold. It took conscious effort to pull air into his laboring lungs.

“Elias.” Voice like gravel, he clutched at his painful throat, wincing when tears stung his eyes after a short but intense fit of coughing.

“You look terrible, Jon.” It didn’t sound sincere or worried, more irritated. “Is this why I’ve had to come see you in person? Why you've ignored my correspondence?”

“Uh, y’yes?” Under the close scrutiny of his superior, Jon thought he might pass out, struggling to focus through the sweeping waves of delirious heat rushing through him from top to toes. “I, I’ve been under the, the w’weather?”

“Jon.” Sighing in frustration, he pinched the space between his eyes. “If I cannot trust you to care for yourself, how can I trust you to run my archives?”

“Apologies. It. I won’t let it get this bad again.”

“See that you don’t.” He turned, disappointment clear in the stiff line of his shoulders and the callous tone of his voice. “Take the rest of the day. Another if you require it. You’re useless to everyone as you are.” If Jon had been capable of it at the moment, he would have been shocked. As it was, he was filled to bursting with humiliation, shivering in his chair and trying to think of the steps it took to get home from here. His assistants crowded within the frame of the door, expressions displeased with him and he wanted for one moment not to feel watched. Not when he was so, so, so useless. Already his face was hot with embarrassment and shame, tears pooling in his eyes and god forbid he let them fall. He stood, hip knocking into the wooden edge hard enough to bruise and Jon had to catch himself on a filing cabinet when the room tilted abruptly on its axis, nearly taking him with it. A cacophony of noises and sounds and echoing commotion blocked up his ears. He ignored their faux concern, their questions, pushing them out before they had a chance to come in and locking the door behind them.

“Jon--” Tim. The rattling knob.

“Leave.” Staggering to his chair, he collapsed, curling tight around the blazing ache at the core of him.

“Jon, you’re, you’re not well.” He knew. And was useless because of it. He didn’t need to be reminded.

“Pease leave.” So, so sick, about to be sick, can’t move, can’t breathe, everything numb, numb, numb. Let him be alone so he can gather his things, deal with the ever present chanting in his mind.

Failure, failure, failure.

“Damn it, Tim. We, we took this too far.” Faint sounds of muffled arguing faded further and further into the distance until he was left with only Martin’s fidgeting silhouette in the frosted glass of the window. He couldn’t stay upright, nauseated and unsteady and when he fell forward, vision blacked, body heavy, an avalanche of paperwork flowed over the precipice with the rest of him.

“Hey, Jon, Jon.” Unfamiliar hands roamed where they oughtn't, tilted him this way and that and he moaned because that was a sure fire way to upset the tentative agreement he had made with his stomach. “Jon!” Insistent, persistent, incessant.

“Go…” thick, nigh incomprehensible.

“There you are, now.” Martin, his palm blessedly cool and sweeping back clinging, irritating curls from where they’d stuck to his clammy skin. “You’re burning up, Jon.” Pity. He didn’t want pity. He just wanted to be left alone and tried to say it, ended up coughing instead, hugging himself desperately to stop the fire poker stabbing into his gut. “Hush, let’s get you sorted. Get you home so you can rest proper.” Drifting, he sensed more than saw Martin step out, closing the door behind him.

“How is he?”

“Not well.”

“What does that mean, Martin?”

“Means I need to get him home and into bed.”

“How can we help?”

“You didn’t want to help him before.”

“That--you know--!”

Out of earshot, out of body, out of mind, out of, out of…

Touch, soft and careful, lifted that thin veil of sleep, pulled him up by protesting shoulders, and he couldn’t stop the cry forced between his teeth at being unfolded.

“Sorry, sorry,” Martin tugged him until he was leaned against his side and held a glass to his lips, tipping water by mouthfuls, chastising Jon not unkindly when he chased it. “Slow, slow now. Or you’ll make yourself sick.”

“S’...um. I.” Thoughts fluttered like moths, all too quick for him to catch, in and out of the dark, seemingly out of nowhere, disappearing into nowhere.

“It’s alright. Take these, good man.” But he wasn't. He was bad. At his job. At people. At, at everything. Pills, bitter and chalky on his tongue, washed down with more water. “Jacket, good, good, I know.” Every action’s difficulty had increased one hundred fold and Jon latched onto Martin’s voice like it was a lifeline. “Okay, I’ve called a cab.”

“Can’...you can’t…”

“You can buy me a coffee, Jon. Pay me back if you have to but the train isn’t the place for you right now.” So lightheaded, so very lightheaded, if Martin hadn’t been there he’d be making acquaintance with the tile, he was sure. “I should take you to A&E. I really don’t like how you look.”

“No, no. Jus’...sleep.” A noncommittal hum filled him with worry. He wanted to go home.

“Alright, Jon. Alright.” Though his surroundings were a blur, Jon thought he saw Tim and Sasha when Martin whisked him to the lift but he couldn’t be sure. It hurt to walk, to move and he buried his face in Martin’s broad shoulder for the duration of the ride, breathing shallow and slow to stave off the carsickness.

Something cold and wet settled over his forehead and he struggled to open his eyes, staring up at a familiar ceiling, still dressed in his work clothes, sans wingtips.

“Welcome back.”

“Wh’where’d I go?” Martin’s hands were moving sections of his hair, plaiting it he realized after a long moment.

“So it stays out of your face, you don’t seem to like it.”

“Mm…” He didn’t, and the effort it took to put it up hadn’t been worth it lately.

“Should I stop?”

“No. Nice.” He was feeling marginally better now that he was laying down and out of the archives and away from the overwhelming pressure and stress. The shame was there, its blinding brightness dulled by distance and time and the fingers combing out the tangles calmed his thoughts.

“Sorry, sorry, love, I know you were having a nice sleep.” More medicine, diluted tea with sugar. Jon fumbled with his belt, uncomfortable, couldn’t get his fingers to do what he wanted, and didn’t remember taking off his slacks or his jumper or layers of socks or his button down leaving him in his loose undershirt. His heavy quilt was pulled up, he was tucked in, warm, comfortable.

“Okay, just breathe.” Jolted awake and bent double over his throbbing stomach, Jon’s back heaved with the force of a barking fit. “Here, another dose.”

“Mah…”

“You’re alright. Let the medicine work.” The damp flannel was back, sweeping over his flushed skin, ridding it of its disagreeable stickiness. Down his throat, over shuddering collarbones, cheeks, brow, repeat, slow, even, methodical.

Over and over and over…

“Jon!” Dark, smothering dark, hands, striking like snakes in, out, everywhere, trying to hold him down, trying to keep him still, from getting up. “Jon, hey, hey, shh.” Panting, can’t. Coughing, not enough, choking. What, what... who… he. Work. He had work to finish? Have, so. Elias was, was angry, disappointed? Pinned, arms close, soft, warm, behind. Up and down. And. Sick...he was. “Shh, it’s alright, s’alright.”

“Mah…’in. W’why, ah.” How was he supposed to finish...he had to finish but there’s so much how. How. When he was...

“Hush, Jon. Hush. Don’t worry about any of that archiving nonsense right now. When you're well, when we go back I’ll help you sort through that mess.”

“Don’, don’need h’help.”

“It’s fine if you do.” Martin’s kind, soft tone was enough to make the sorrow spill over and lightly calloused fingers brushed them away. “It is, Jon. I, I know I’m not the best yet, but I want to help.”

“T’Tim and Sasha...even, it’s. Too much on you all.”

“It’s too much for you.” For one frantic, delusional moment Jon believed Elias had sent Martin here to dismiss him. That he wasn’t even worth letting go in person and he panicked, distraught.

“No! No! I can, I can do this! I ca--” Fire erupted, coursed through flayed open veins when he coughed, gasped, tasted iron against his teeth. Sobbed. Then Martin hugged him and it should have been awful because Jon didn’t do hugs but he returned it anyway. “I was asking too much.” Hoarse and choked and sad. No one should feel like he did, at the end of a rope knotted too much like a noose, and he’d gone ahead and done it to Tim and Sasha and overloaded them with more and more and more work and then he tried to add even more because he couldn’t handle his own damn job and, and--!

“Jon! You weren’t asking enough.”

“They, you, were so busy, I, I couldn’t--”

“Jon, love, I need you to listen to me.” When he made to interrupt, Martin settled him back into the pillows and took his hand in a loose hold Jon was free to escape. He didn’t understand. “Tim and Sasha. They were having a go at you.” That didn’t sound right. They were. They were friends. “Pretending to be slow, putting the pressure on their new boss.” The sharp shock of electric grief cracked through his breastbone as though it were a lightning rod and he wasn’t grounded.

“Y’you’re lying.” He had to be. And Jon wasn’t the best at interpreting these sorts of things on a good day but he had to be. He had to be because they, they were friends. They wanted to help, they said.

“They were upset with you, I suppose.” His fingers tightened around Martin’s hand and he returned it. “I don’t think they meant it to go this far. I don’t think they really understood what Elias was asking of you.”

“Why?” Broken, shaking so violently he nearly bit his tongue. “Why would they? What did, I didn’t mean to be chosen. I didn’t mean it Martin, I didn’t, I never. I.”

“I know.”

“Elias, he. He didn’t--” Pathetic. He barely knew Martin and the man was in his flat, in his room, consoling him because his coworkers couldn’t stand their new boss.

“I don’t want you to think about it right now.” Helpless, hopeless, Jon looked up at him. “I want you to sleep.” Martin cupped his jaw and brushed the tears away with two balanced sweeps of his thumbs and Jon clung to his wrists. “Try to sleep, things will be better in the morning. I promise, Jon. I promise.” It didn’t feel like it could ever be better. But sleep sounded good. Sleep and he could forget about it for a little while. Martin tucked stray curls back away from his face, into the messy plait, talked about nothing, poetry, the dog he’d let run into the archives forever ago. Jon let him, trying not to think about anything else. Following the currents of his voice down, down, down, where the weight of tide dragged him under.

“Your fever is still higher than I’d like.” Jon frowned. He wanted to be miserable alone but in the end he slept when he could, when his worsening stomach ache let up, and watched Martin tidy his cluttered flat through half lidded eyes. He snapped awake when the door closed thinking he’d finally had enough of his sour mood and left. But no. He’d gone to the Tesco down the street to purchase him some essentials and was coming back. Jon missed him leaving. He was irritated with Martin for taking his phone even though it was probably for the best. The emails kept coming, enough to bury him, and his vision was swimming so badly he could barely read them anyway.

Still, he couldn't help but think about the archives and the new statements that no-doubt waited for his return. They’d be further behind now, out one terrible archivist and one archivist’s assistant all because he couldn’t take care of himself properly.

“Are you sure you feel well enough?” Martin was helping him take slow, unsteady steps to the kitchen table where his laptop resided. “You’re so pale.”

”Can’afford to waste more time.” He could glance through some emails. He was well enough for that. Probably.

“That didn’t answer the question.” It ended up being a waste anyway. He was too dizzy to sit up let alone read and Martin did him the kindness of not saying “I told you so.” Currently, Jon was leaning his temple on the chilly glass of the dirty window and Martin was fixing some tea for him. He didn’t want it, worried that if he moved or even thought about food or drink he’d lose his tenuous battle with the nausea. He jumped when Martin touched his shoulder, closing his eyes when it just hurt. “You’re shaking.”

“Mm. C’cold.”

“Back to bed.” Jon shook his head. He couldn’t. “You need to rest.”

“Can’t…” He folded thin arms over his middle. He was being lifted to his feet, the room blinked in and out and his mouth flooded with salt.

“Jon?” There was fear in Martin’s voice but he couldn’t alleviate it, not when he was trying to keep still, keep from collapsing then and there. “Jon? Ambulance is on the way. It’s alright, it’ll be alright, hang on.” He didn’t mean to be sick but his lips wouldn’t form the shapes of his apologies.

Red.

Bright red

A gout of it coating his tongue in copper.

“Jon!”

“S’sor…” His legs gave way with another gush, there was pain but he couldn’t pinpoint it, falling, slow, drifting like leaves cradled in autumn wind. Clothes soaked and tacky with carmine buds blossoming, blooming, growing, fields of poppies spreading from him to Martin and pressure, pressure, pressure on his hands.

Frozen.

Wet warmth traced the contour of his jaw and the uneven pounding, pounding, pounding of his heart drowned out all else as it tried to escape the cage of his ribs.

Flashes of light, sound, lifted, his connection with Martin severed and he choked on rubies instead of his name.

Speaking. Wouldn’t answer, couldn't the cloying smell of iron lay thick all over this place. Didn’t want to be here.

A sticky toffee grip. Squeeze can’t feel it.

Jon Jon Jon the chirp of birds calling shouting screaming warning him of what comes next cold in his skin in his veins the dark takes all and gives nothing back.

Bright white blazing phosphorescent fire burning burning no one is coming to save him from the shadows hemming him in trapping him under swaying shifting indifferent lights that blind his eyes and pull cherry sweet claret from his insides with a fishhook.

Lashes lined with lead fought against the weight of muffled murmuring, the piping trill of electric monitors, but there’s only soft dusk dim and exquisite detachment. Nowhere, nothing hurts and his sum total is velvet wool and fleece and he sleeps.

The distinction between dream and wakefulness was little more than a gauzy veil but Jon thought he recognized Martin and Tim and Sasha and when he could he forced his clumsy apologies, inadequate though they may be, through jumbled words, slurred and stuttered and slow and he was sorry he’d gone and made such a mess of things and he’d fix it if he could, it they told him how, he’d do anything, just please don’t hate him.

Soft sounds, familiar sounds, kind sounds. A thick blanket of cloud and cool fog and…

Jon woke with a mouth full of cotton and a dull pain somewhere in the vicinity of his middle. When he lifted his arm the tug of an itchy catheter in the back of his hand drew his attention to the leads and the lines leading to bags of fluids refracting prisms built by bright beams streaming into the room between gaps in the shades.

“Hey.” The relief Jon felt in hearing Martin’s voice was too complicated to think about so he didn’t. Instead trying to dredge up a smile from somewhere as he sat next to him. “You’ve been awake a few times. I wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t remember.” He blinked.

“I--ah.” Wincing, Jon put a hand to his throat when speaking was akin to gargling glass, and he accepted the water Martin offered gratefully, as well as the help of his steady hand. “I, I don’t.”

“The fever has just started to go down. Lowest it’s been today I think.”

“You’ve…”

“After work. Just to check in. ‘Bout a week now.” The surprise must have shown on his face because Martin knit his brow. “It was touch and go there for, for a little while. But, you’re on the mend.”

“I d’didn’t...what did, what?”

“Well. Jon. An ulcer, first of all. From stress--exceedingly rare mind you. Which worsened when you began getting ill.” That, that made sense. “And, uh. I don’t know if you remember the day it happened.”

“Not really, no.” Snapshots of time sure, but nothing concrete and when Martin explained he’d lost what he thought was a litre of blood on his kitchen floor and another all over himself Jon had no rebuttal. “Was. I thought I saw?”

“Tim and Sash? Yeah. They visited a few times.” There was more there, just unspoken, and Jon didn’t push him for anything else.

Jon was trembling with fatigue after the doctor did their poking and prodding and sent him on a painful jaunt down the hall with Martin and his IV stand as his chaperones, leaning more and more of his weight on his arm. Another day saw him discharged and home for the weekend with Martin to fuss and fret and force him to follow instructions to the letter.

“Boss.” Tim’s chair nearly tipped over with how fast he was on his feet. “You, are you sure you should be?” Weakly he gestured to the office, concern evident in his haggard face. Sasha composed herself with a bit more decorum, actions careful and precise.

“Jon, maybe you should take more time away.” When she stepped toward him, he stepped back. He was capable of doing his job; please let him do it. “We understand if you--”

“I’ve recovered well enough. Thank you both. For y’your concern.” Ducking his head he retreated into his office, not sure what to expect from the state of it and surprised when he was faced with only statements to record organized by length and supplemental research. The heaps of papers he’d accumulated over his short tenure were all but gone and while it ameliorated the panic he’d lied about to Martin, it also proved the man was right.

Tim and Sasha.

Best not to dwell.

There was work to be done.

“Let me get that for you.” Sasha reached past Jon before he could even extend his arms toward the box. “Martin told us not to let you lift anything.” Traitor. Speaking of, a fresh cup of tea rested beside a new translation. Passable. After the tea, he had the strength to log into his email for the first time.

Jon,

I trust you are ready to begin recording statements. Please do so at once. Your assistants have proved themselves capable enough in your absence to not require such close supervision.

Do well on your promise. Do not let this happen again.

Regards,

Jon exhaled, the tension seeping out of his body replaced by profound weariness. When he blinked awake, covered in the throw from the break room, Martin magically appeared with another cuppa.

“Nice nap?” He suppressed a yawn, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, as Martin suppressed a smile. “Pain?”

“Not bad.”

“So, not good?”

“I’m fine, Martin.”

“Glad to hear it!” Tim’s bright tone and appearance were surprising but more surprising was the container of soup in his hands. “Followed Martin’s instructions, boss. Lemme know what you think.” Jon wasn’t even sure what expression he threw towards the man holding out the fresh tea but he was certain there was very real fear there and by the time he’d recovered Martin patted his hand and left him to lunch.

To be fair, Tim was a good cook.

Jon took a deep breath and cleared his throat to gain the attention of all three of his assistants.

“As we are all. Aware. I was ill recent--”

“You nearly died!”

“Nothing of the sort.” He waved a hand dismissively.

“That’s not what your doctor said!”

“My doctor shouldn’t have divulged anything.” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m alright, now. I’m fine.” He looked at each of them individually. “This was a, a perfect storm, nothing more.” Jon understood that they were upset and didn't want to be around him. They didn't have to, to like him. “We should have spoken before, I should have. I know you’re angry with me.” This time he held up a stern hand to halt them. “And I may have no right to ask, but I need help if I’m to have a chance at doing this job. I. I chose you because.” Nerve lost, he glanced at his wingtip shoes, counted the worn scuff marks. Be a boss, Jonathan. “We worked well together. Before. And. I wanted to apologize.” Deep breath, a decisive nod. “I hope we can develop a positive working relationship moving forward.”

“Jon, Jon, no. Don’t apologize. This. This is our fault. I was upset and Tim and I we, we didn’t mean for it to go this far.”

“You couldn’t have known Elias was. Burying me.”

“We would have if we’d asked after you. If we’d given you the time of day. When the Big Boss came down to personally boot you out of the office you. You looked like hell. And then Martin said--” he had the sense to look sheepish when Jon glared at him.

“Is there no hope of keeping anyone’s confidence?”

“No, probably not. We were so worried.” Tim provided.

“And when we visited. All we did, Jon, you were so upset.” Everpresent, the shame colored his face.

“I. I don’t remember much.”

“Let us help.” Gingerly, Sasha touched his shoulder. “Properly this time.”

“A team!” Tim slung his arm over his other shoulder and gestured with a wide hand. Both of them were taking such pains to be careful with him and Jon wondered how much Martin had told them. “Like the old days, plus Marto here. Resident boss saver and tea maker.”

“Tim.” The ache in his chest lifted, lightened for the first time since he’d been handed this department.

“Come on, boss. Let us pamper you.”

“I will not!”

“It doesn’t look like you have much of a choice.” And Tim and Sasha embarrassed him further with a gentle hug.

“Martin’s right, Jon. You really don’t.”

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boop-le-snoot · 4 years ago

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masterpost • main masterlist • taglist & faq

previously on...

Chapter 1! Reader's job has no chill and Wanda means well (Tony does too), but, as we know, the road to Hell is paved with good intentions. Reader discovers the source of some peculiar things and can't help but be overcome with curiosity. F-bombs galore!

Fun fact: this story's main soundtrack is Claire de Lune, for some reason. Usually I can't stand classical music.

I didn't anticipate my first day at the bodega to be remarkful in any way but I was quickly proven wrong. My expectations were low: few customers, some of them flat-earthers of the garden variety, perhaps one or two of those 'witches' from social media blogging platforms and an overzealous Satanist or two, since I was pretty sure I saw an Ouija board and a silver pentagram hanging in Odette's office on the day of the interview.

Boy was I wrong.

We averaged a customer every fifteen minutes with each person requesting increasingly strange items: healing quartz and sage were on the closer end of normal; I felt like I had teleported to Hogwarts and was now attending Professor Snape's Advanced Potions class, having to race between the high shelves and memorize the exact location of each and every ingredient. In the end, I sacrificed a few dollars and bought one of the beautiful, leather-bound notebooks off Odette to write down the shelf and position number for the most commonly requested items and planned to begin memorizing them at home.

There's a little bit of Ravenclaw in all of us, I supposed. My curiosity only extended further: sometimes, a haggard looking person would come up and declare they had an appointment with Odette and was quickly whisked away by my boss to her office, coming out looking slightly less haggard in about half an hour or so.

I adapted to the routine fairly quickly, choosing to make my personal peace with the strange customers and Odette's mysterious meetings: after all, I got the job because I needed money - who was I to judge her for doing Tarot readings and spiritual séances for an extra dollar?

The bodega's atmosphere did grow on me rather quickly, as I had thought it would. It was warm and homely even on the rainiest afternoons, there was an unlimited supply of herbal tea, free of charge, and I grew to appreciate it just like I learned to find the positives in my job at the café. That remained a constant, mildly interesting affair too - my regulars, especially the superheroes, had started coming in during the morning hours and we were able to resume our chit-chats without a hitch.

Wanda still fished for my most recent, memorable reading and Dr. Banner left his incomprehensible scribbles on every napkin within an arm's reach for me to return to him on his next visit. The fully grown man with multiple PhDs didn't fail to blush like a schoolgirl every single time it happened, causing Mr. Stark to double on his own salacious jokes, should the engineer have had come with. They often came together, blabbering things I couldn't even fathom understanding even with the help of Google.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Wanda sounded surprisingly chipper for it was freaking seven in the morning.

I blanched, banging my arm against the display door painfully with a softly muttered, "Fuck!".

The witch frowned. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I muttered, hoping my face wasn't portraying the mixture of confusion and fear that I felt. "Something weird happened at my other job yesterday, I'm still processing," I replied honestly, looking to the side.

In fairness, I didn't know what to think. The situation wasn't something that should have shocked me, with aliens and magic people an abundance in NYC, but seeing it with my own two eyes had been jarring.

A limping, paranoid young man had arrived for an appointment with Odette shortly before closing time; I had escorted him to her office without as much as a blink, only noticing he was dripping oddly colored blood when the door behind him had closed. I cleaned it up, dead set on confronting Odette about the obviously injured person - the blood, it was more of an attempt to clean it, since it merely stuck to the rag, refusing to wash off it with water or any of the organic cleaning solutions kept under the sink.

I had to leave the rag in a paper bag, acutely aware of the fact it could not have belonged to a normal person. My best guess was that a man was a mutant - NYC had plenty of them living behind a blue wall. Odette's office wasn't soundproof: I heard a pained yelp and then a vocalisation of relief as whatever was causing the man to bleed had been removed. In a few minutes while I was closing the cash register, he came out looking almost brand new - and as I paid him a more careful look, he was missing his scleras, leaving his eyes to look slightly terrifying.

And then he winked at me, a surprisingly human, boyish gesture - the smile that crawled up my face was purely automatic. I was sure it looked frozen. He disappeared without a word as Odette herself emerged from the backrooms, a tired sheen to her brow.

"Did you manage to clean up?" She asked, eyebrows raised at the lack of stains on the hardwood floors.

"It stuck to the rag," I replied, eyeing her warily. "The rag is in the unmarked bag next to the sink. I didn't know what else to do with it."

"Sometimes it does that," her sigh was very telling. This was to be expected to become a regular occurrence. She motioned for the notebook I got to keep track of everything in the store, rattling off a recipe for a cleaner and solvent combo, made purely from the items she had inside the store, giving me stern instructions to add the ingredients in the exact order I was told. I sighed but added the footnote. Odette was a far cry from the greasy git from Hogwarts so she deserved the benefit of the doubt at least.

I didn't dare to ask any more questions about the strange man; not that day, not after I had suprised Wanda with a quick recap of my story. It's not like I had anything against mutants - as long as they were peaceful and didn't harm humans with their abilities, I was content to co-habit, share my space and even be friends with them. A very nice old lady who came by three times a week had gills peeking out of the top of her turtleneck and she was just the most polite, sweetest thing.

Wanda's curiosity was understandable and not suspicious in any way: I was under the impression she was a mutant, too, along with her twin brother - so the feeling of dread that blossomed within me as soon as the two suited figures entered the small store I attributed to the larger size of the man and vulture eyes of the woman. They both appeared extremely out of place with their black two-pieces and badly hidden pistol holsters, topped off with badges I couldn't take a good look at without losing my customer service facade.

I decided to play it dumb, self-conscious of the thudding of my heart in my ribcage. My body screamed 'danger' at me. "Hello, how can I help you?"

The woman cast an observant look over me, my plain clothes, lingering on my star-patterned scarf and matching hair band. "Are you the owner of this store?"

"No," I frowned, not liking where this was going. "Do you have an appointment with Odette?"

"We'd like to see her," the man pointedly moved his arm, exposing the gun and the badge.

I dropped the nice act, staring him down in earnest. I never liked self-righteous, pushy government officials; even less so, when they didn't follow protocol and started the conversation with demands instead of proper introductions. As I shot a quick text to Odette, noting that there were 'strange people in uniform' looking for her, my suspicions were only confirmed when the woman looked around the store with eyes that knew what they were looking for. Those two definitely weren't cops or even feds, they were straight up shady.

Odette all but flew to the bodega, the imposing, suffocating aura I'd seen only once on full display. It was hard to breathe standing so close to her; with muted satisfaction, I noticed both agents squirm, their fingers twitching, as they took in shuddering inhales through their, undoubtedly, lying mouths.

The whole spectacle was over quickly. I had managed to serve and quickly usher out Ike, one of the Satanists (yes, we did, in fact, have a few of those as regulars) with his paper bag full of powdered goat horn and a fresh cat skull under his armpit before the curtains parted and the two agents left without saying a word. I thought their eyes looked - wrong, like glass marbles, dull, lifeless and unseeing.

Odette dismissed my worries with a frivolously waved hand: "They won't be bothering us anytime soon," closing the door to her office - it reeked of strong incense and horseradish, for some reason. Like she'd been making some hell salad in front of the two nosy officials.

I took a deep breath in and then a deep breath out. The weirdness should've bothered me more, I knew, but I couldn't bring myself to decide whether I wanted to know what that interaction was actually about or live in blissful ignorance, where my boss might be some sort of a mutant or an actual witch that helps other mutants.

The longer I thought about it, the louder anti-mutant propaganda articles screamed at me: children being killed or abandoned because one day, they woke up and could fly or move things with their mind; every potential situation could end up like Carrie or Brightburn - two movies so blatantly obvious in their point to instill fear against children that could grow to work alongside Earth's Mightiest Defenders.

Needless to say, my conscious calmed down pretty quickly. I had felt the hairs on my nape stand up as soon as the agents entered the room and in my experience, a reaction like that was never good. I had been taught to trust my gut.

Odette had cancelled her visits for the day, holing up in her office as the whole store rapidly filled up with the stench of horseradish, old blood and sage. The occasional noise came from the office, interrupted by mumbling, and I was quickly told to just turn up the old, vintage radio if it bothered me.

I was too busy taking in the contents of her office - the table that previously stood in the far end of it, stood in the middle, folded out into the shape of a circle. Something was drawn on it, something the color of dried blood, and there were light candles, white and blue, littered on almost every possible surface. The air was clouded with incense smoke, so thick, it made my eyes water.

Odette's grin was sardonic as she met my eyes, wide and shocked, that had previously landed on what looked like a pot- or a cauldron, emanating the strongest bitter stench that wafted even through the lead curtain of incense. No wonder the whole store reeked.

Before she gently shut the door in my face, I caught the centerfold of the whole show - an extremely large, tattered, leatherbound tome with yellowed pages and a heavy metal padlock laying next to it. Overcome by stupor, I didn't manage to make out the intricate silver letters on its cover.

Needless to say, walking home that day was an adventure. In part, I was cautious that the agents would find me, follow me home, interrogate me - I've never been arrested even by usual cops and it was unlikely that shady government agencies were delicate in their approach. A larger part of my brain was wondering about the implications of what I had seen, I'd nearly chewed off my fingernails remembering the vacant, lost face expressions on the agents' faces.

As soon as I got home, I set to do some serious googling. And find information, I did. Plethora of minor details - candle colors, herbs used, deeply individual incantations and mythical deities that chose to work with a particular witch. It was nothing short of a whole science; I'd go as far as to say it was a complete lifestyle. The use of magick bled into every aspect of daily life, from sleep to food to communication with others.

Part of me felt incredulity at the implication of sacrificing so much to get results that might be the opposite of the ones desired. A larger, braver part of me - the very same that used to push me to explore abandoned buildings with my friends and drink booze given by a stranger - admired the work and the dedication my boss and her kind put into their work.

Having received my first paycheck and successfully having made it through rent day without having to make excuses, my conscious allowed me to treat myself to a few items - I decided to give into my curiosity and placed an order for a few books on modern witchcraft, happily waiting for the package to arrive next afternoon. I went to sleep with my head full and a new world at my feet to explore.

The books were late - or more like, never showed. The refund couldn't come soon enough. My curiosity began to reach unbearable levels the longer I worked the front desk at Odette's. These days I didn't need much assistance anymore, ready to help any new or returning customer with the help of my notebook. Time after time, I noticed a certain working order, a pattern to things if you may - and was able to recommend a few things here and there. In short, I stepped over my initial apprehension and dove into the world of natural remedies and energetic manipulation headfirst.

It made all the sense that Odette would start to take absence from the bodega as my training progressed. On the days she had fewer or no appointments, she would don her favourite scarf and trot out the front door, large purse in tow, to run errands or restock on the rare, pricy items that couldn't get delivered directly to the shop. I'd grown accustomed to locking up on my own; the spare key to the entrance door was my pride and joy, the dull silver a warm comfort hanging on a chain around my neck. Its antique design made a fairly pretty necklace.

The customer coming to pick up a special order hardly disrupted my time. I had Janis Joplin blaring from the old radio, my skirt swayed to the rhythm of the song together with me. The elevated mood while working in the shop was something I appreciated fully - with a kind smile, I departed for the backrooms to search for the package with the customer's name, not finding it anywhere near the proper place. A call later, I was opening Odette's office and extracting the paper-wrapped shoebox from the fridge, passing it into the customer's arms with utmost care: 'FRAGILE. KEEP REFRIGERATED AT ALL TIMES.' read on it in Odette's sharp cursive.

The bell above the door rang as the woman departed but I was already inching behind the curtain, overcome by sudden inquisitiveness.

The book. It stood right in the middle of Odette's desk, shut, but missing its padlock, beckoning with the thick gothic letters spelling out 'PRACTICAL ALCHEMY'. I noticed it as soon as I stepped into the office, confused and puzzled by my own unbearable desire to approach it immediately. I knew something was amiss, yet, my legs had a mind of their own and my hands firmly placed themselves upon the heavy cover of the book, seemingly without the input from my brain.

"What the hell..." I muttered to myself, finding the books contents to be - for the lack of a better word - peculiar. "Protect a babe born on all Hallows Eve..." I numbly mouthed the first words that my eyes registered. The pages made a soft noise as my shaking fingers turned them, one after the other. "Bestow healing upon a barren womb... Punish a thief..." There were - spells, and potions, and so many plants I've never even heard about before.

The pages turned and handwritings changed - at the start, words were written out precisely, the cursive neat and sharp, obviously written by an ink pen. Some things were scribbles, pencil or charcoal, so barely intelligible I had to guess about a third of the words written. Towards the end of the book pages made with a typewriter appeared - blocky letters and numbers, language modern, ash and cigarette smell coming from the paper.

I couldn't believe what I was seeing. The longer my hands touched the pages, the stronger the tingling sensation became - I failed to notice it at first, attributing it to the exhilaration of finding something so strange yet so precious, but as I was finishing a page that contained a fairly short spell for protection of a witches' home, the discomfort of my palms rose into a mild stinging pain.

"Fuck," I yelped, casting a look at my fingers. They were hot, angry, as if I had briefly touched boiling oil - and the skin on my fingertips began to blister, little white pustules forming where I had gingerly held the pages of the book in place. "What the fuck?" Was my reasonable question to nobody in particular.

The books contents were, no doubt, interesting but I was more concerned with the state of my hands - had I ignored the pain for five more minutes, I might have had to go to the hospital to treat what was beginning to look like a second-degree burn. I slammed it shut none-too-gently, placing it exactly as I found it and winced when barely a second of touching it brought on more excruciating pain.

The healing peppermint oil salve I knew people bought for mild burns only soothed the initial sting, so I had to suffer until I clocked out, stopping by a drugstore on my way home to purchase some much-needed burn cream. And while it didn't make it worse, I knew that my next day at work was going to be Hell.

Most thankful, however, I was to my voice-to-text option on my cell. Not only it allowed me to communicate with my friends without hurting my abused skin even more, but it also dutifully saved the short, simple spell that was supposed to protect my house. There was no harm in trying it, I supposed, after seeing what I didn't doubt was the book's own protection wreak havoc on my snoopy little hands.

The tag list is open until the story is finished.

@couldntbedamned @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @mostly-marvel-musings @persephonehemingway @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites

#bun writes #practical alchemy #tony stark x reader x stephen strange #tony stark x reader #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange x y/n #tony stark x y/n #Stephen Strange x you #Tony Stark x you

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daily-dose-of-imagines · 4 years ago

Text

ᴊᴏᴇꜱᴛᴀʀ ꜱʏɴᴅɪᴄᴀᴛᴇ | Yakuza!AU | Head Canons | 19+ [𝕁𝕁𝔹𝔸]

[JOESTARS] [JOBROS i] [JOBROS ii] [JOBROS iii] [JOBROS iv]

Here is the final part to the headcanons~! I’ll definitely be writing and throwing out the headcanons and one shots etc soon~! Which also means you all are more than welcome to make any requests you’re curious about with characters from this AU~!

» » Admin Ko

TW; Mentions of Gore and bodily harm

»»————-　♔　————-««

𝔼𝕣𝕞𝕖𝕤 ℂ𝕠𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕠 [23]

Like Okuyasu and Bruno, Ermes is Jolyne’s right hand woman. Though instead of a hierarchy, the pair work side by side whilst bouncing ideas off one another to help further their reign throughout the prison.

In Green Dolphin, they’re considered the bosses instead of the single boss. Even Jolyne’s siblings see them both as a pair rather than just Jolyne. Once, Ermes has asked if the thought had bothered her but the multicolored hair woman merely waved it off with a scoff. “You think I can run this shit alone? It’s easier to work side by side with someone you trust than through some shitty system.”

Those words stuck to Ermes and she completes her job to the absolute fullest because of it. When facing other commanders from other factions she doesn’t falter and holds herself quite well. Her strength falling in line with her persuasive swindling skills and mean right hook when need be.

Between herself and Jolyne, she’s more of the one who likes to think out her plans of attack and torture rather than running in head first. Though of course she’s the one who ends up running in as back-up for Jolyne when the younger runs head first into danger.

𝔽𝕠𝕠 𝔽𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤 [21]

One of Jolyne’s top assassins. F.F., as she’s better known as, isn’t quite in touch with her emotions and performs killings with ease and absolutely no remorse. She does ask question in mortality, and when given the answer to follow her heart she ends up slaughtering for the sake of what Jolyne desires or what would be most beneficial to her.

Her trust for the other commanders falls rather low, the exception being Ermes, but other than both bosses she doesn’t feel a lick of connection to the other two commanders.

Besides being the top assassin, F.F. is also the best at getting rid of the bodies within the prison if the staff happens to be incompetent or scared shitless to even move from their posted spots.

Once made one of the new staff members clean a newly dismembered body with nothing but the bare minimum of cleaning supplies. After that she was told by Ermes to not break the new meat too quickly less they lose the last mental capacities of the new toys given to them.

ℕ𝕒𝕣𝕔𝕚𝕤𝕠 𝔸𝕟𝕒𝕤𝕦𝕚 [22]

Another one of Jolyne’s assassins. Though he is much more of the stable than his two fellow assassins, Anasui has his own fair share of moments of emotional relapse. Similar to F.F., he loses touch of his emotions once he gets into the habit of slaughtering and dismembering remains.

He is one of the only members to have learned of Diavolo’s secret methods of psychological torture when he and Jolyne had visited Giorno in Italy. Least to say, when they had to send a ‘message’ to a pesky organization he sent them their agent back in 22 pieces resting in a beautifully clear resin tomb.

Out of the jobs he does, he much prefers the torture and interrogation methods rather than going out to assassinate. He has much more fun within the prison than out of it.

𝕎𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣 ℝ𝕖𝕡𝕠𝕣𝕥 [24]

The most unstable assassin under Jolyne’s chain of commands. With his mood swings, he’s been put under hypnosis and with the right phrase (That only Ermes and Jolyne know) he can instantly snap and become a psychotic emotionless killer.

He’s the one who takes care of business the most outside of the prison and reports back practically daily at the strike of 7AM. It baffles the two bosses to no end, but have learned to work around the odd quirk Weather has.

Despite his cold exterior and expressionless face, Weather actually thoroughly enjoys being out from the prison and relishes every second that he’s out from the suffocating world. Of course he doesn’t hate it per say, but it can definitely be a place where the air itself was being shoved mercilessly down your throat.

𝔻𝕚𝕖𝕘𝕠 𝔹𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕠 [27]

Dio Brando’s younger brother, and the step brother for all Joestars within the family tree. Though out of all the Joestars, the Englishmen found himself feeling more closely associated with Johnny than any of the others.

Unlike his older brother Dio, Diego has based himself within the west coast of the Americas. His faction being based more in California and the lower southwest. Though he won’t admit it, he’s rather glad that he has connections to the other Joestars within the country.

Compared to Dio, Diego much prefers to use his resources to their full potential to claw his way up to the top. Like Johnny, he has invested himself in the competition business as well as a small interest in the police force.

Diego absolutely loves to circle and prey on his victim’s mental state. The stronger it is, the more he enjoys absolutely decimating every little mental wall they have put up.

Surprisingly enough, he actually frequents trips to the east coast to meet up with Joseph and Jolyne whenever he has a moment to spare. Again, unlike his older brother Diego likes to make solid connections with people who have more power or control than him. In the end it helps him grow more as an individual and to eventually take over himself.

He rarely will call Dio. The only times the Brando pair will speak is when the whole family is back at the Joestar estate on official business.

He also makes frequent trips to Italy for purchases in arms from Giorno as well as to get closer to his ‘favorite’ Joestar. To Diego, there’s a weird sort of connection he gets from Giorno in terms of connection, but says nothing of it. To this day, he’s still doing research on the younger’s past.

He actually doesn’t hate Johnny. Instead, it’s more of a competitive tension between the two on who can do what faster, better, or efficiently.

𝔾𝕪𝕣𝕠 ℤ𝕖𝕡𝕡𝕖𝕝𝕚 [28]

Johnny’s most trusted right hand man. Within the faction, he is the only really well known fighter and advisor for the male; but after Johnny’s incapacitation Gyro has taken on the role as Johnny’s personal body guard.

He actually doesn’t do any of the mundane simplistic things for Johnny, instead he still treats the other as if he was never incapacitated in the first place and will discuss strategies as well as business deals with potential clients.

Besides being a main combatant and advisor, Gyro is also the main medic within the faction. He gets visits from not only those in his own faction, but by Joseph’s, Jolyne’s, and to his utter surprise Diego.

It’s no secret that Gyro absolutely despises Diego, but forces himself to put up with the other’s antics for the sake of a business front and to keep himself from entangling himself anymore into the Joestar-Brando mess.

Besides being a medic, he takes absolute pride in being the bringer of hope and the destroyer of dreams when he visits a mauled victim.

Practically relishes in the fact that he can heal someone’s injuries just to be able to break or kill them. It may seem like a god-complex (and it is) but it’s just his dirty little secret and Johnny knows all to well of this. Thus resulting in the Italian man having a nice list of victims to release his urges on.

ℍ𝕠𝕥 ℙ𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕤 [26]

A faction commander to both Diego and Johnny. When she was first faced with treason for sabotage and being a mole she was put in an interrogation between the two. Though whatever had happened within the interrogation she ended coming out unharmed and with a new deal to be a commander for both men.

Despite the amount of work unloaded from both of them, she handles it all with ease. Gaining Lisa Lisa’s approval from Day 1 when she had met all of the other commanders and connections to the Joestar family.

In a sense, she’s a hired hit man who was officially bought to be a Joestar hit man.

She definitely enjoys getting a clean kill, but the best moment she had was during a recon mission and she had ended up killing her target by stepping on his throat with her stiletto and practically puncturing a hole through the windpipe while grinding the heel in as the victim choked and died beneath her.

After that moment and description no one really fucks with her and treats her with the utmost respect.

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blues-fandom-bullshit · 4 years ago

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Moving In

So, moving into a house was your objective. But, having a gargoyle roommate, two aquatic sweethearts, and seven more cryptic-like beings was a plus. So, what better way to take advantage of the situation, than to have them help?

Mono (Classic, Sans)- Convincing- He internally huffs, both irritated by your ignorance to gargoyles even though the opinions on gargoyles varies and.. amusement? You see, you asked him to help, not told him. You’re the first to ever do that. But, he still doesn’t trust you. How he helps- He, actually isn’t allowed inside the house. No gargoyle is.. Without trust in his housemaster and their trust in him. He doesn’t even want to help. But he has to, by your wish. But, he’s surprised when you say he doesn’t have to, but doesn’t voice it. He doesn’t trust you. He won’t.. He won’t. That’s what he tells himself. Give him some time to come around. What the others say- They don’t really say anything. They know he can’t really help with how his subspecies of monster works, along with his distrust and dislike of humans. But Talie will encourage him to try and bond with you. “Try someone else.. I can’t-” ‘Won’t.’ “-help you..” “Sorry..”

Talie (Classic, Papyrus)- Convincing- With Talie all you need to do is open your mouth and he’s in. But, with these tentacles? It’s sort of hard. How he helps- Like his brother, he can’t exactly go inside your house to help. He wants to, he really wants to. But, with him being stuck in water, he can’t. He’ll, with his brother, help on the outside.. Close to the water. Give decoration advice, tell you when you need to take a break, the like. What the others say- Honestly? He’s too lovable by them all maybe not all.. DomniCentri that they don’t care since he can’t help it. “Gee, Human, I Wish I Could, But I Wouldn’t Be Much Help. Nyeh Heh Heh!”

Envei (Swap, Blue)- Convincing- Honestly, you’re at a loss here too. Maybe in another timeline he could, one where he was a terrestrial or aerial being. How he helps- Like his other aquatic counterpart, he also can’t leave water.. As far as he knows. He could turn into a human, with legs, but Taif hasn’t told him of this due to protective natures. In the meantime, he’ll try to go on land, going as far as the shore. His fears keep him from going any further. What the others say- Like with Talie, they can’t blame him for his limited reach. However, they are more appreciative of the fact he can’t when it comes to you. He’s rather.. sexual and has taken interest in you. “Oh, You Need My Help, Now Do You? Well, I Could Certainly Help Myself With You~ Mweh Heh Heh! I’m Joking Human! Wish I Could. Try My Brother.”

Taif (Swap, Honey)- Convincing- It make take a bit. He’s distrusting, anxious, honored, and a bit smug. You want his help. His help. His help. You’re jus making him feel more guilty about lying about his real name. How he helps- He’s a bit nervous, to say the least. His fae instincts are going ecstatic. You’re not supposed to invite fae into your home unless you’re prepared. Then again.. you don’t really know.. And he doesn’t want to break your trust in him. Still.. you do want his help.. And you do have some drinks and food to offer.. Fine. He’ll help.. But, he’s helping with the small things, no matter what the others say. What the others say- They’re more protective of you due to him being a fae and the faery nature. Still, they’ll make sure he stays polite. “Y-you want my help..? …Uh... I-I could try.. Fine! I-I’ll help!”

Domni (Fell, Red)- Convincing- All you needed to say was his name! He may seem rough around the edges, and rather lewd, but he just has this need to feel useful, so you asking for his help fuels something in him that’s more intimate than sex. How he tries to help- He’s more than willing to help! Plus, he gets to look at your cute little ass and impress you with his rather thick humorous bones and strength. Everyone know he’s showing off. But if you mention his strength, he’ll smirk, lift your chin some, and comment on how he has “something big and just as powerful” for you. What the others say- With Domni, it’s just eye rolls. They know he’s trying to impress you. Typical. Well, they’ll make sure he doesn’t try anything passed lewd flirting and light touching. “What’s wrong sweetheart? Oh? This? I can carry more than just a dresser. Hand me another one. Ya know what? Get on my shoulders while your at it!”

Viper (Fell, Boss/Edge/Crimson/Spice)- Convincing- Truthfully, he snap some and say he’s busy and will try to slither away, but if your expression drops from pleading to a limp frown and downcast eyes, or you give him just the sweetest pleading eyes, his soul clenches and he caves. How he helps- Like his brother, he’s rather strong, so the heavy lifting is also split with him. Of course, he’ll 'subtly’ keep looking at you because that makes him think you’re watching, so he has to be at his top game. What the others think- Geez, calm the fuck down! You barely know this human! They find it kind of annoying because he keeps getting it the way. Probably his superiority complex. But, under that, they’re surprised. Viper only does something for someone else if he gets something out of it in return. “Watch Out Human! You Almost Tripped Over The Vampiric Viper! Shut The Fuck Up Domni! I’m Not Showing Off For This Vile Creature! Get You’re Head Off Of You’re Tail!”

Centri (SwapFell Red, Black/BlackBerry)- Convincing- It takes a bit, and a bit of pleading from Relib before he caves. How he helps- Due to his harpy powers, he’s carrying an entire bed up the stairs without even changing his mild scowl. It’s almost admirable, and he gets a sweet dark ginger flush as you gawk at him not even breaking a sweat while he easily lists your refrigerator over his shoulder. The previous owner took theirs and the landlord gave you a used one beforehand. What the others think- They’re shocked. Centri never, never, helps anyone on his terms. Call him selfish, but he much prefers doing things on his own, and would rather people learn to do that Relib, his sweet older brother, is fine though as well. “No! Screw Off, Pest!” “Fine! But Only Because I Need To Keep An Eye On The Idiots So They Don’t Harm My Servant”

Relib (SwapFell Red, Mutt/BBQ/Puppy/Rus)- Convincing- Relib is another skeleton that all you have to do is ask and he’s already asking back where you want stuff. How he helps- He isn’t as strong as the others around, so he helps with small things. Offering arrangement places, putting away books, hanging up picture, washing dishes, handing out drinks and snacks at breaks. What the others think- He’s just the same old Relib, but.. he seems to have gained some confidence with you, and not the mask he puts up. “W-Would it be okay here? Yeah? Alright.... That would look better to that wall, by the way.”

Ren (Horror, Blood/Axe/Skull)- Convincing- You don’t need to ask him. He just sees commotion happening and immediately shows up to see what’s happening. Good luck fending him off. How he helps- He just like a cat. A big, lazy, affectionate cat. He’s pulling you into his lap and whining when you insist you have to get up. What the others think- They naturally don’t like Ren, except for the aquatic brothers, but Envei is neutral with the wolf. He keeps distracting you, holding you, and is so damn clingy.. “*whine*... Come.. back..”

Inten (Horror, Crooks)- Convincing- He just sort of.. Follows his brother. When he appears he just sort of.. Helps without permission. But.. He's effective at it. How he helps- He does anything he can. Organizing, lifting, advising, anything he really can. Mostly though? He pulls you right back into his brothers lap when you’ve been away for too long ten minutes so that Ren isn’t lonely. What the others think- It’s annoying sometimes. Having someone go behind them as if they were children, or criticizing what they do or where they put stuff.. They’re all grown monsters and have been for years dammit!

#ancif #anciftale #ancifswap #anciffell #ancifswapfell #ancifswapfellr #ancifhorror #undertale #underswap #underfell #swapfell #swapfellr #horrortale

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czechforrain · 5 years ago

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CR Quarantine meta thoughts

So I thought I’d give a quick approximation of where I am with Critical Role and where I think C2 will go and where the characters still have to go before the campaign comes to a close.

In order name-wise

1. Beauregard

As of right now she seems to be in not the best place. Her major goal along with Caleb’s for the last 40 chapters was to bring an end to the war. Now that there’s an uneasy peace, she’s partially conflicted on what to do next and how the people behind this war should face justice and whether the costs of that could outweigh the risks. She also wants to tell jester about how she feels and her apprehension to this seems to be based on her self worth. This came up again as a result of visiting her father and she seems to think that she could lose everything and go back to being an outsider without a place again. There’s also her old girlfriend who was arrested that the party might run into. Not to avoid mentioning, Yasha and her having some feeling toward each other before E69 and how her returning may complicate her feelings with Jester. A lot of moving pieces. How she deals with her feelings and her family is something I’m definitely interested in.

2. Caduceus

Caduceus is currently finding his purpose in helping others find theirs and seems to be committed until some arbitrarily defined point where everyone seems fine off on their own. I do think part of him will realize that he’s not beholden to these people and that he doesn’t owe them anything and they like him for who he is. I think he knows this subconsciously but he’s a very duty driven man and it’ll be interesting to see how this changes when he realizes the M9 have developed over time and might not need him but still continue to want him. There’s also still the grove and whether what he has done is enough to save it. This remains to be seen and might be handled more towards the endgame depending on how powerful the source of the corruption is.

3. Caleb

Caleb seems to have progressed a lot on overcoming his desire to change fate. He straight up mentions “ you can’t change the past” in talking about personal compliance in causing harm but I don’t think he’s completely over the ideas of going back in time and erasing his sin from happening. He’s certainly much more comfortable with where he is now and has found himself a family again. His main goal right now still seems to be finding away to bring the Cerebrus Assembly (or more accurately the bad seeds in the assembly) to justice without jeopardizing the unsteady peace they’ve won. This seems to be leading into Mighty Nein Navy Seals Vigilantism but might involve a ton of investigative journalism as well. I have no doubt that his plot hook and that of his former organization will continue to play a big role in the story going forward. The extent he can change the organization and possibly even turn his childhood friends away from the path of trent is another interesting side plot. The same goes for his buddy Essek and how he decides to react to Caleb wanting him to make amends for the mistake he’s made.

4. Fjord

Fjord is a super interesting character especially when comparing him before and after the Pirate Arc. A lot of people, for clear reasons, separate Fjord’s attitude based on when he lost his accent but to me his change in personality came a bit earlier than that. His role as a character for the Mighty Nein early on was as one of the faces, the badass Texan smooth guy who was able to get what he wanted generally easy and was afraid of flexing his martial might. This kind of escalated a bit, one of the moments which really stuck with me was when he cut off Algar’s hand after he already had him beaten. It’s mentioned by Fjord later on that he found himself using more power / violence as a short cut to get where he wanted and that he feels he started to cheat himself by doing so. Once they ended their pirate adventure, Fjord seemed like he took more of a backseat with his role as a leader in the group and I think part of that was due to him questioning if he really deserved to be a leader. This also tied in with him questioning whether following Ukotoa was the right choice and his realization he couldn’t game the system and earn powers with nothing expected in return. This culminated in him renouncing Satan...I mean Uka’Toa and following the Wildmother as a paladin. Since he has done so he’s starting to act more reasonably and less impulsive when there’s a possibility of conflict. He’s humbled himself and I think he feels it’s more freeing than what he was before he changed as a person. The one thing that has accompanied this though is a string of combat misfortunes (due to dumb luck) which is a neat perpendicular to his personal growth. He feels more free and more himself but he may feel weaker than he did when he was putting on a mask. I don’t think this will lead to him having second thoughts as a Paladin but I think it’s building up to him eventually assuming a larger role asa leader once he truly realizes that he can be both himself AND great. Caduceus has mentioned this before about ‘one day someone will ask for a miracle and you’ll be there to help’ and I cannot wait for the moment where Fjord is able to get a HDYWTDT and be generally badass in his New Voice and prove to himself that he had nothing to worry about.

5. Jester

Jester is my favorite version of a cheerful but awkward person, earlier on she kind of had me worrying about how much trouble she’d get them into but I over time realized that she has control over what she does and when she’s chaotic randomly vs when she has a purpose behind it. Case in point, the Cupcake Scene which was excellent and super risky but really paid off. Right now she’s dealing once again with how she feels as a disciple of the Traveler and the revelation he’s not a god revealed to her right before Travellercon. Now she’s kind of wondering what to do with several other devotees and what even will happen with him in the future regarding his divinity. I’m very interested in how this event will shape out and if there’s any 3rd party intervention into the story that will occur at this place during the time. It just seems like a narrative point where Matt could reveal something huge. But then again everyone expected fireworks at the meeting at Sea and cooler heads prevailed so maybe everything will work out swimmingly. Anyways I can’t wait to see what her next journey is after Travellercon, it will probably involve her dad and mother and may involve Darktow and is sure to not be predictable. There’s also her romance options but there’s a myriad of ways that could go and everyone else on tumblr has mentioned it so I’ll leave my peace there.

6. Veth

Veth essentially got exactly what she wanted and there’s no grand reason for her to stick around besides her enjoying the company of these people and possibly something similar like Caduceus’ “To the end of the road” type thing. She loves her family obviously the most of all, which was most pointedly seen when she insulted Caleb and blamed him for what happened to her husband after being super supportive of him for the first 49 episodes. I think she still has a lot of growth to do as a character and there might be an avenue with her prejudices. Someone else on here has mentioned it before but basically, Veth is kind of a suburban wine mom who believes a bunch of stereotypes and has a “us vs them” type of mentality. That’s one possibly route for her to go if she decides to stick around for awhile. It is possible a huge event is around the corner that throws Wildemount into disarray and requires her to stay for awhile but we’re currently in a limbo where her leaving after travelercon would make sense.

7. Yasha

Yasha is right now in a bit of a floating period. She really wants to make up for her role in Obann’s schemes even though it’s not her fault. She had a heart to heart with Caleb where he basically told her the pain never really goes away but it can be eased by the company by the company you keep. So her redemption can be pretty open-ended. I really want to see her wings again and please let them be white and feathery, I would love it. There’s also the possibility of her wife being alive / them running into her old tribe, with the boss behind it still being alive and there being some sort of conflict like how Grog had his issues with the Herd of Storms. Ashley is a full time member for the first time so hopefully there’s a lot to do with her on the cards and we get to see more juicy fireside interactions with the Nein.

#critical role #critical role c2 #the mighty nein #yasha #beau #fjord #caleb widowgast #beauregard lionett #jester lavorre #caduceus clay #veth brenatto #nott the brave #critical role spoilers #cr meta

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tonystarkstan · 5 years ago

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TRIGGER WARNING: suicidal thoughts, an almost-suicide attempt, and non-graphic self-harm.

It’s four o’clock in the afternoon when Tony gets the call from Peter. At first, his heart leaps happily, just as it always does when he gets a call from his kid.

And then, a second later—worry. Because, yeah, it might be a little overboard, but Tony has Peter’s schedule memorized, and he knows for a fact that he’s supposed to be in Organic Chemistry right now.

“Kid, what’s up? It’s only the third week of school—you already skipping class?” Tony teases hopefully.

“Tony,” Peter breathes, and Tony’s heart stops. Peter says his name like it’s been forcefully punched from his chest, as if he’s been drained for words and Tony’s name is the only one left.

“Peter, I’m here,” Tony says firmly, reassuringly. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Tony fidgets restlessly when all he gets is silence. He wastes no time before taking long strides over to his StarkPad and pulling up Peter’s vitals.

Elevated heart rate, quick breathing. Panic attack, maybe.

“Peter, let me help you,” Tony says almost desperately, and the kid whimpers high in his throat, just as desperate.

On the end of the line, Peter closes his eyes and tries to ignore the way self-hatred creeps up his skin, blistering hot in its ferocity. His hand shakes on the phone, his other one clenched at his side, nails digging into his palm.

That one single action is the only bit of relief he can get, the only feeling piercing through panic and the long list of reasons why he shouldn’t just stop.

There are a million metaphors racing through his head, and he thinks of all the gentle ways he could say it what he says next. Instead, he whispers, horrified, “I want to die.”

Tony’s heart stops. “What?”

“I want to die,” Peter repeats, this time a little louder, more certain. And then, because the thought has taken root and grown like weeds around his throat, he says, “I want to die, I want to be dead, I want to not be here or anywhere, and I want it to be over—I can’t—”

“Peter,” Tony says sharply, trying to break through the spiral. He’s already suiting up, giving FRIDAY the order to let Pepper know where he’s gone. “Peter, listen to me. I’m on my way right now.��

He thinks about calling 911, but he knows he’ll get there faster with his thrusters at full speed. Tony knows, distantly, that people will talk. Iron Man’s supposed to be retired, but he doesn’t care. Because right now, his kid needs him.

“Peter, talk to me,” Tony urges, heart clenching in his chest. “What happened?”

“Tony,” Peter pleads and Tony hopes he never has to hear the kid say his name like that again.

“I’m almost there, baby, just please keep talking to me. Can you do that for me? Where are you?”

“The chemistry building. On the—the roof,” Peter says, a confession.

That statement alone nearly sends Tony into a panic attack himself, but he takes a deep breath and reminds himself that he needs to be strong for Peter.

“Peter, where are you on the roof?” Tony asks, because he has to know. He curses himself for not having FRIDAY pull it up sooner.

“Just the middle.”

Just. Just. Just. As if there’s a “just” to his kid standing on top of a roof, actively suicidal. As if there’s a “just” to the fact that his kid wants to die and wants to stop and can’t keep going.

There’s no “just” to that.

“Stay right there, buddy,” Tony tells him, practically begs. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if he has to see his kid—his baby—perched on the edge. “I’m almost there,” he promises.

Another beat of silence, and then, “Okay.”

Tony wills his suit to go faster, bitterly thinking about how he can bend time and space enough to go back in time but not to get to his kid any quicker.

“Morgan can’t wait to see you again,” Tony tells him, because he can’t stand the silence and what it means. “She keeps asking when you’re coming back.”

Peter lets out a sound that Tony thinks is supposed to be a fond laugh but is just a dull punch of air. “I love her,” Peter says softly, and Tony feels his eyes burn as desperation and fear well in his chest.

I love her, Peter had said. Not, I can’t wait to see her, too.

“I’m tired,” Peter tells him, and this time Tony hears tears in his voice.

“I know, buddy. I know you’re tired. But I’m almost there, and we’ll fix this,” Tony tells him, because he doesn’t know he’s gonna do if he can’t.

“I can’t fix this,” Peter says, words choked. “I can’t make myself be better, I can’t—I hate—”

“One minute, boss,” FRIDAY cuts in, and Tony nods to himself. One minute.

“Peter, Peter, no. I don’t know who or what’s made you think that, but—”

“They’re right,” Peter argues, and Tony panics as he hears the line shuffle. Peter is moving.

“No—Peter, listen to me, stay right where you are,” Tony says quickly, panicked out of his mind. The rooftop is in sight now, and if he looked down, he’d see a bunch of curious stares looking up at him.

But he only has eyes for the kid making his way to the edge, a spot just out of view from most people, and Tony wants to throw up.

Even in planning his own death, Peter wants to minimize the collateral damage.

“Peter, look at me,” Tony commands, and he watches the kid’s gaze snap to his.

Tony considers, for a moment, gently landing in front of him, coaxing him down from the edge. But the other—and far more panicked—side of him tells him to slow down just enough to knock Peter away from the edge, to safety.

That’s the part he listens to.

He slows his thrusters and flies directly in front of Peter, spreading his arms and wrapping them around the kid as he flies to the middle of the roof. They end up on the pavement in a tangled mess, and Tony quickly retracts the suit, hands finding Peter’s face. Peter is crying violently now, hands shoving at Tony’s chest.

“Why—why would you—I want—” Peter cries, hyperventilating through his words, and Tony’s heart splits straight in half.

He smooths Peter’s hair back before tugging the kid fully into his lap, ignoring him as he tries to pull away. Tony knows that if Peter truly wanted to break free, he would.

“I’ve got you, buddy,” Tony murmurs as he wraps his arms tightly around the shaking body. “I’m right. I’m not letting you go.”

At that, Peter cries harder, pressing his face into Tony’s shoulder as Tony rocks him gently, whispering nonsensical things. Anything to calm him, to try to make this better. He finds tears of his own welling in his eyes, and he blinks them away furiously. This moment is for Peter.

Tony loses track of time, focused only on the distressed kid in his arms. After what could be minutes or hours, Peter finally slumps fully into Tony’s chest.

“I still want to die,” he whispers, ashamed, and Tony closes his eyes.

“I know, baby. I know.” All of Tony’s tools and tricks, and he still doesn’t know how to fix a hurting heart. He pulls back for a moment and takes Peter’s face in his hands again. “But look at me.”

He waits for Peter’s eyes, red and swollen, to lock with his. “You’re not alone. And we’re going to make this better somehow, and you are not going to leave me. Not me or May or Morgan or your friends. Like it not, you’re stuck with us. Got it?”

For a moment, Peter looks at him, gaze dull and tired, and Tony brushes a tender thumb across his cheeks, trying to coax some life back into him. Finally, Peter takes in a shaky breath, steeling himself as his hands twist into Tony’s shirt.

“Got it.”

And it’s not better, not yet. But it’s enough.

#tw self harm #tw suicide

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tearsofthemis · 4 years ago

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Tears of Themis : Chapter 1 “Social Snobbery” Part 7 [Investigation Stage]

[Previous Part] | [Masterlist] | [Next Part]

youtube

▌Location- QingPing Restaurant

(Xia Yan doubts that this case was caused by accidental food poisoning since it’s suspicious that pesticides known to cause harm to humans would be found in a restaurant where people are eating and drinking. And to make things troublesome, the accused is adamant that this was caused by his own negligence.)

MC: “Then let’s start looking into the pesticide and how it made its way into the restaurant. Even if the incident happened two weeks ago, there should be residual powder left.”

Xia Yan: “Yeah, the pesticide used in the restaurant and the spring water that came in contact with it are our main focal points right now.” We were interrupted by a phone notification. I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and checked the voice message Zuo Ran left me.

Zuo Ran (voice message): “The case isn’t as simple as we thought it would be. Pay close attention to Fang Yuan. Call me if you run into trouble.” MC: (Lawyer Zuo shares similar doubts in regards to the case, and now he’s also suspecting foul play from Fang Yuan?)

Zuo Ran: “Hey, what’s wrong? What happened?”

The sound of Zuo Ran’s voice startled me. I only then realized that I had accidentally dialed his number - and a video call at that.

MC: “!!!” ~~~In call~~~

Zuo Ran:

“Wrong number?”

“Forget it, you don’t need to apologize. As long as you’re okay.”

“The study guides for the intermediate exams… did you mean to leave them at the law firm?”

“That’s fair, the books are heavy and a nuisance to carry around.”

“Ah, there’s no need to worry that the case investigation will hinder your study progress, I’ll help you organize the key topics and questions for the exam.”

“No need to thank me. I’ll let you get back to work.”

~~~End call~~~

(After Zuo Ran hung up, I pressed a hand to my chest and let out the breath that I was holding.)

Xia Yan: “That person just now, was he your boss? You seem scared of him, is he bullying you?” MC: “Not at all. Lawyer Zuo is our firm’s executive elite lawyer, and a senior of mine. He’s one of the best in the industry. Although he’s strict, he would never bully juniors such as myself.” Xia Yan: “Really?”

MC: “Yes, really.” Xia Yan: “If you say so. Regardless of whether it’s work or personal troubles, you can rely on me to help you. I’ll have you know, I’m quite impressive myself.” MC: “Of course, Mr. Most-Impressive-Detective!~”

~~~Investigation starts!~~~

▌ [Examine powder sachets and mug]

MC: “Hai O’Sen powdered beverage? I’ve heard that this company’s wellness supplements have been all the rage these past two years.”

Xia Yan: “Consuming four or five packets in one go is way past the daily limit; overconsumption of supplements is harmful to the body.” (Xia Yan and I both reached out to grab the sachets, and our fingers touched. His fingertips felt hot against the back of my hand. I looked at our hands, then turned to look at Xia Yan.)

Xia Yan: “...We’re still so in sync, it’s like our brains work as one. C-cough! Why do you think Mr. Fang would consume so many packets?”

MC: “Ah… XinRan did mention that Mr. Fang has heart issues…” (What’s wrong with Xia Yan? He jerked his hand back as if he had gotten an electric shock. I pondered on what Xia Yan said earlier, and we gradually fell back into work mode.)

MC: “I think Mr. Fang’s been consuming supplements as placebo effects.”

Xia Yan: “But there ought to be side effects to his health if he’s been drinking so much of it…”

▌ [Examine receipt stuck under ledge]

Xia Yan: “Ow…” MC: “What’s wrong?” Xia Yan: “I cut my hand. There’s a piece of paper stuck under the cabinet, so I was trying to pull it out. My hands are too big, I can’t seem to grab it.”

MC: “Ha.. I’m sorry I can’t help but… laugh!” Xia Yan: “Then, may I inquire of this all-mighty lawyer with small hands to retrieve it? Ah, be careful not to cut yourself as well.”

(I’ve rarely seen Xia Yan be this deflated, and it’s probably unprofessional of me to be joking with him while we were working. I knelt down, and with the help of the flashlight on Xia Yan’s cell phone, I tried to free the piece of paper.)

MC: “Hu… it’s difficult. I got it! It’s a receipt.”

Xia Yan: “The time of purchase was two weeks ago, on Thursday. The item purchased was Insect Repellent 330…”

MC: “It’s an industrial pesticide, you usually won’t be able to purchase this from the stores here.”

Xia Yan: “The receipt also has the payment information. We have the first and last four digits of the credit card used for the transaction, so we can find the person that purchased the pesticide.”

▌ [Examine spring water container]

MC: “This should be the spring water sourced from YunXia mountain. The filling date is recorded on the side here. The production date is the same date as the incident. This jug is the same one that was delivered to the restaurant two weeks ago.” Xia Yan: “The container’s opening is narrow since it is to be placed on top of a dispenser for drinking. In this case, a pump would be affixed to it in order to retrieve the spring water. The likelihood of accidentally contaminating the spring water would be very difficult.”

MC: “That means whoever is behind the incident must have done it with malice.”

Xia Yan: “It’s a shame that the water container has been scrubbed clean of any other clues or fingerprints.”

▌ [Examine front door lock]

MC: “The door employs a fingerprint lock, and the door itself is free from any signs of forced entry. If the narrative is that this was a case of sabotage, then the culprit isn’t just anyone looking to extort money, but maybe one of the restaurant’s employees?”

Xia Yan: “To be more specific, the culprit would be anyone with fingerprint access, not necessarily just the employees. The restaurant’s employees would share liability if anything went wrong in the first place, so they would face the risk of being laid off. Especially if it was discovered that there was foul play, they would most likely be the ones to shoulder the repercussions. Unless one of them holds a personal grudge against Mr. Fang, under regular circumstances, an employee would have little motive to try and sabotage their workplace.”

MC: “But who else would have fingerprint access? Even XinRan had to ring the doorbell to get in. And there’s no way Mr. Fang would try and ruin his own livelihood…”

(I mulled over the possible suspects as Xia Yan pulled out a tablet from his bag and plugged it into the finger scanner’s power connector.)

MC: “Are you trying to…?”

Xia Yan: “To find the other people with access, all we gotta do is check the fingerprint IDs registered.”

▌ [Examine the water pump on the shelf]

Xia Yan: “This must be the pump that they attach to the spring water container.” ▌ [Examine water pump’s nozzle]

Xia Yan: “Look, there’s some yellow crystallization on here.”

MC: “Is this the leftover residue from the pesticide after it had dissolved in the water?” Xia Yan: “The amount of crystallization implies that the concentration of the dissolved pesticide was very high. But of course, this would be one of many possibilities.” MC: “One of many possibilities… What if someone rubbed the pesticide all over the spout? We can’t eliminate that theory, either. Regardless, we can say with certainty that Mr. Fang was lying when he claimed that the water was accidentally contaminated.”

▌ [Examine prints on water pump]

MC: “If only I had brought magnetic powder to lift these latent prints off of the water pump, then we could confirm whether or not anyone tampered with it.” Xia Yan: “You mean this stuff?”

(Xia Yan pulled a small bag filled with a powdery substance out of his shirt pocket.)

MC: “Why would you carry that around?”

Xia Yan: “As a professional, I gotta make sure I have all the tools on hand. How could I not take my gear everywhere?”

(Xia Yan used the magnetic powder and lifted several prints from the water pump. We have no way to cross-reference them at the moment.)

▌ [Examine pesticide packet in the drawer]

Xia Yan: “This must be the pesticide that Mr. Fang sent his runner to buy. The convenience store receipt was kept with it. It reads that the time of purchase was two weeks ago on Monday.”

MC: “Mr. Fang is a meticulous person. If it were me, I would’ve tossed the receipt two days after purchase. It says here, Mr. Fang purchased… Bugger-Off. Wait that’s not right, I recall that this type of insecticide is harmless to humans.” Xia Yan: “Yeah, it’s harmless towards mammals, which makes it suitable for use in households with pets. That reminds me, you used to be extremely scared of cockroaches when we were little. What about now? Are you still scared?”

MC: “We can still be friends if you drop this subject right now.”

▌ [Examine blue powder by the wine rack]

MC: “That’s strange, why can’t we find any trace of the pesticide that they claim they used? It would be counterintuitive if they sprinkled it on the ground and then wiped it up soon after.” Xia Yan: “That’s something worth looking into… Eh? There, by the corner of the wine rack, there are some traces of it left.” MC: “Judging by the blue color of the powder, it looks like any other insecticide you can buy on the market.”

Xia Yan: “It may look like it, but after we perform a compound analysis, we’ll be able to say for certain.”

MC: “Y-you even have equipment for that with you?!”

(I looked all around to see where Xia Yan would hide bunsen burners and beakers, kind of hoping that he could pull them out of thin air like magic.)

Xia Yan: “You don’t have to stare at me so intensely… we won’t need to actually test it using a chemistry kit…” (Xia Yan pulled a palm-sized device out of his bag. It looked like some sort of electronic screen with a thin dropper attached to it.)

Xia Yan: “This is the D-type Rapid Composition Tester that I modified; it’s capable of detecting common compounds.” MC: “D-type, huh… does that mean there’s an A-type, B-type, C-type that came before it? I doubt that you studied hard in your bio-engineering program.”

Xia Yan: “Wrong again, I graduated from my Master’s program with high honor distinctions!”

~~~Investigation ends!~~~

(After we finished preliminary investigations around the restaurant, Xia Yan and I sat down and discussed what we found. Xia Yan also took this time to run tests on the yellow crystals found on the nozzle of the water pump, as well as the pesticide sampled near the wine rack. The fingerprints lifted from the body of the water pump was compared to the fingerprint IDs registered in the door lock. On closer investigation, we also managed to lift fingerprints from the Insect Repellent 330 receipt. Lines of data and formulas appeared on Xia Yan’s computer, but they all looked like mumbo jumbo to me. I turned my attention to the cut on the back of his hand as it was starting to swell as it bled.)

MC: “We should take care of that cut on your hand.”

(I pulled out a packet of alcohol wipes and tried to not disturb Xia Yan as he worked.)

Xia Yan: “A cut? Where?”

(He smiled when he saw that I was staring at his hand with worry.)

Xia Yan: “Ah, I would’ve forgotten about it if you hadn’t pointed it out.”

MC: “Why are men always so careless. The underside of that cabinet probably hasn’t been wiped down in years. What if your cut gets infected?” (I pulled his hand toward me, and before he could complain, I unwrapped the alcohol wipe and dabbed it on his cut. I blew on it as the alcohol evaporated.)

MC: “Hang tight, it might sting a little. It’s a good thing that I always keep these disposable wipes when I go out for investigations. I often use them to disinfect things.”

Xia Yan: “...” (Xia Yan stayed quiet for a long time, so I looked up to glance at him. A pink blush settled on his cheeks, and it made his amber eyes look brighter than usual.)

MC: “Y-you…” Xia Yan: “Ah.. Uh… I’ll remember it well. Next... time, I’ll be careful. I’ll make sure you won’t have to worry.” MC: “Okay, as a hotshot detective, you better keep your word.”

I smiled at Xia Yan, and he turned even redder. He awkwardly coughed and scrambled to change the subject.

Xia Yan: “More on the results, there’s something questionable about both the fingerprints and the pesticide.”

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[Previous Part] | [Masterlist] | [Next Part]

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《CREDIT》 Translator: @humi-and-co Editor: @hallowsivy 《未定事件簿》Tears of Themis is a 2020 Chinese otome game by 米哈游Mihoyo. All original credits go to 米哈游Mihoyo.

《OFFICIAL ACCOUNTS》 Official website: https://bbs.mihoyo.com/wd/ Official WeChat account: 未定事件簿 Mihoyo official website: https://wd.mihoyo.com/

#tears of themis #teras of themis translations #otome #otome game #未定事件簿 #xia yan #zuo ran #夏彦 #左然

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dougiewonderland · 5 years ago

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Oneus // Your Mafia Boyfriend Goes To Jail

Request: Hello, I was wondering if I could request a Oneus Mafia were Someone snitched on your mafia leader boyfriend, to where he has to go to jail for 8 months . Finally, after 8 months he is now released. Fluff thank you!

Request: Hello my I request a oneus mafia reaction to someone snitch on your boyfriend and they have to spend 6 months in jail and finally after six months their released thank you

A/N: I hope this is what you wanted! I wasn’t sure if you wanted seeing them for the first time in 8 months or the whole scenario or what, so I tried to do a little of both. I also wasn’t sure how to make every snitch different so there’s a few different scenarios within, I hope that’s ok!

A/N 2: All of the members didn’t want you to come visit them while in jail (except for Keonhee) because the police don’t have your identity yet as an associate. Even if you aren’t involved in the gang firsthand, they don’t want the police to know you’re in a relationship with them and to start bothering you too, so you can’t see them for their entire sentence.

Ravn/Youngjo:

As the leader of Oneus he’s always been in a precarious situation

It took him a long time to trust you just because he was always on his toes

Unfortunately, even with time, trust can be a dangerous thing as one of his supposed new recruits was actually the son of a rival gang’s second-in-command

After gaining Youngjo’s trust and becoming one of his favourite new recruits, the kid ran back to his father with plenty of evidence to get him out of the way for a while

His father decided that instead of dealing with Youngjo himself, he’d bring this information to the police in return for immunity and for the police to turn a blind eye on his own gang, which they agreed to

Luckily enough, much of the evidence incriminated the kid more than it did Youngjo, but there was enough to convict him of a few weapons charges, giving him a year in jail

After 8 months of Youngjo’s absence, you got a call from him telling you that he was released early on good behaviour

He told you that one of the boys picked him up already and he just got back to HQ, where you headed immediately

Seeing him as soon as you enter the front door, you run up to him and jump into his arms

“Hey baby, I missed you too!” he says while holding you and showering you in kisses

The whole week he returned, you wouldn’t leave his side for more than a minute, even opting to shower together to just enjoy the fact that you can be with him again

You’re also a little scared to let him out of your sight and lose him again, since the last time you did was when he was arrested

He now does extensive research and background checks on every potential recruit before they’re even allowed to meet any of the main Oneus members

He even hired a specific recruiter with a solid alibi so he and the recruiter don’t get nabbed (again)

Seoho:

To say you were upset was an understatement

Your boyfriend Seoho was the sweetest and is like a parent to all of Oneus

He was the calm and collected member of Oneus, and he taught the new recruits and was one of the main snipers

When one of the new recruits got scared of what the job entailed, he ran to the police

Because he knew Seoho the most as he was his teacher, he ratted him out

Seoho plead guilty to the few charges they could bring against him, mostly just aiding known felons

You were one of the snipers of the mafia, deciding to join when Seoho tried to teach you how to shoot for self-defense but finding out you had a knack for it

In the 6 months Seoho was sentenced for, you made it your personal goal to find the rat and handle him for what he did to the group and to you

Little did you know Seoho was organizing the same thing from the inside

So when Seoho was released and you found out what he was headed to do, you told him what you’ve learned the kid on your own time

Seoho figured this was the perfect couple’s activity upon his return

You guys end up staking up on the rooftop next to the guy’s safehouse apartment, enjoying each other’s company and the comfortable silence you know all too well

You’re just happy to have him back, and happier to be back in the field with him

Leedo/Gunhak:

(Tangentially related to “One of Me, Two of You”)

Leedo’s position as lead negotiator and “public relations” (basically bodyguard/intimidation) has always put him in more of a dangerous position than the others

After several rough meetings with a rival gang leader in hopes of allying, Leedo thought that Oneus had a new ally in the rival gang

Unfortunately, it was just a setup

When Leedo went to the last meeting to finalize everything, the rival gang brought the police along with

The rival leader made a deal with the police when he got caught in order to connect them with other gangs, and Leedo’s gang just happened to be the first victim

Leedo went to the last meeting alone though, thinking that he could just tie deal up

As the police took him in, he managed to negotiate his way down from attempted murder and threatening violence to just a few lesser charges

Little did Gunhak know, you were learning from Seoho how to sharpshoot

Although not a member of the gang, you were angry enough with the situation at hand that you decided to give this gang member a “visit”

When Gunhak found out what you did when he got out, he was just as surprised as the other members

“And I’m the one with two lives, huh?” he jokes at you, although he’s kind of hopeful he can do more with you in the field in the future

(Plus ngl he finds the idea of you with a gun kinda sexy he ain’t gonna lie)

Keonhee:

Even as one of the founding members, Keonhee felt like he wasn’t good enough as a member, and killing was never his thing

So he decided to also take the path he planned when he was a child and joined the police force

Keonhee moved up quickly to detective and became one of the force’s most trusted officers

But Keonhee was the gang’s eyes on the inside, gaining information on rival gangs and giving it to Ravn before the police could get a jump

He also used the gang’s information to get good busts and climb the ladder

Best of both worlds, y’know?

One of Keonhee’s fellow officers started to get suspicious of Keonhee always seeming to be right and leagues ahead of everyone else in the force so he followed him one night and followed him to the gang HQ

He took photos and turned them in to their boss

Keonhee got kicked out of the force and sentenced to a few years in prison, but was released from overcrowding after just under a year

You visited him every time the prison had visiting hours

He showed up to your apartment after being released and cuddled you

You two didn’t leave your apartment for several days, and only had contact with the outside world when your food delivery came or when the other guys came to your place to see Keonhee

It took a lot of reassuring from the boys that he was still a valuable member of Oneus

Reconnaissance was still his thing and he was the absolute best at it

Hwanwoong:

Sometimes you’d tell Hwanwoong he’s way too sweet and friendly to be in a gang

And boy did that fact come back to bite him in the butt

When Ravn announced that there was a new recruit, Hwanwoong was excited

As he has with all the others, he befriended the new recruit quickly, becoming the recruit’s guide in assimilating into the Oneus life

Little did he (or any of the other members know) the recruit was an undercover officer with a different identity and everything

When Hwanwoong invited the recruit to his place to hang out, the recruit wore a wire in hopes of getting enough dirt on Hwanwoong to bring him in

Hwanwoong of course spills way too much and gets brought in

Unfortunately being flustered and upset makes the situation worse and he gets Keonhee tied into this too

“I won’t give up any of my members they’re my friends but we can probably give you a ton of information on other gangs if that’s ok I’m sure Keonhee can give you whatever you want I only know so much- wait no ignore what I said about Keonhee don’t bring anyone else into this I’ll go to prison if I have to don’t bring the others in”

Because Keonhee was a detective they already know he has valuable information so they decide that Keonhee can go free and Hwanwoong get a light sentence if Keonhee gives them all the information he has on everyone

(Anything to save innocent little Hwanwoong though. And their own asses ofc)

After 6 long months you got to see your boyfriend again

You think Hwanwoong was clingy before? You haven’t seen anything yet hun

He definitely had trouble getting close to new recruits for a while after that though poor baby

Xion/Dongju:

As the group’s baby they didn’t want him to be in the middle of things if they went south

Plus he’s still learning the ropes a bit

So Ravn assigned him as a lookout along with a few newbies in hopes they stay out of harm’s way

But during a raid one night a citizen walked by and heard gunshots from inside the building and called police

Unfortunately the lookouts didn’t see her in time and only realized they were in a pickle when they heard sirens

Most of the gang managed to get out the back, but Xion and a few lookouts on the front end of the building got caught by police before they could make it to the getaway cars

The police also found a few injured members of a rival gang inside and tried to pin it all on the three Oneus members they caught

None of the charges stuck because the members stayed outside the entire time and had no DNA or other evidence tying them to the incidents that occurred

But Xion was still kept in jail during his trial, which lasted almost six months

When he was finally found innocent and released he stayed with you and took a break from the gang for a while

He still visited the members, but he wasn’t ready to get caught again

You were also an innocent(ish) civilian and staying with you gave him a sense of normality for a while until he was ready to go back

He couldn’t deny that he liked the thrill of being a part of Oneus though and would get too restless trying to live a basic domestic life

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carbrakes-and-stakes · 5 years ago

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Supper Trooper - Margot, Nora, Simon, Alain

Alain just got out of the police station and goes home to join Simon and Nora for dinner.

Supper Trooper happens right after this (x)

Alain’s anger did not seem to go away, and for a good enough reason : he did not know who he should have been directing it toward. His train of thoughts went back and forth between blaming himself, the police, or Nora and Simon, or even the damn squid and his fishy diet. Having a Mexican standoff in your head was really far from pleasant, as one could easily imagine. He had stopped at the supermarket to get a shirt, grabbed the first one he could find. Actually it was the second one he could find. The first one read: I love mimes, and even in such times, he would never have bought that. Even then, he felt as if he still reeked of fish, and feared that the smell would never leave his nostrils. “Putain,” having arrived at the garage, he saw a person waiting at the entrance. That’s when he remembered. Margot. Showing her around. He glanced at his watch. Yep. 45 minutes late. “Rooh, et merde,” stepping out of his car, he rubbed his face and approached the door, and Margot. “I’m really, really sorry,” looking more worn out than if he had spent the night hunting, he sighed. “How about we do this tomorrow. I’m really not in the mood,” which probably made him sound like an enormous pile of shit, but this was the truth. He entered the garage to get his cellphone from the counter, some paperwork, and walked back to Margot. “Can I offer you dinner? I feel bad enough to have kept you waiting like that.”

Margot would never consider herself one to arrive fashionably late to anything. Not that she was one of those people who showed up half-an-hour before an appointment, either. No, she was usually right on time. And had been… until about fifteen minutes had passed, and she glanced down at her phone to reassure herself that yes, this was the time Alain had told her to come. Maybe he was just running late? She simply left it at that in lieu of texting him, not wanting to seem impatient. However, when his absence bordered on an hour, she was beginning to feel more concerned than anything else. Being here reminded her of… many things she would have rather not thought about, and the potential for something bad to happen churned uncomfortably in her gut. Her thumb hovered just over his phone number when she heard someone pull up to the garage, twitching her head up and trying to gauge if it was indeed him. When he finally appeared, Margot immediately shook her head and waved off the apology. “It’s alright, really. I’m just glad you’re alright, you had me… really worried, not gonna lie,” She tried to cover up her nerves with a tight laugh, and perked up a bit at the mention of dinner. “Oh, are you sure? I mean yeah, I’d definitely be down but, you… You look pretty tired,”

Hours ago Nora had been throwing fish in a lake with Simon and Alain. After that fun, but all together disappointing experience, Simon and Nora had gone back to Alains house. They’d expected Alain to be right behind him. He never showed up. So Nora had done what any great friend would have done. She got the spare key and let them in. “I’m going to take a shower.” She had declared and was now, hours later, dressed in Alains clothes, sitting on his counters and eating his food. Without Alain there to tell her no, she’d decided to heat up everything she’d found. The countertops were currently sorted into two sections, already heated and to be heated. The closet, having already gone through its brand new organization, was sorted into four piles. Clothes Nora would never wear, clothes Nora could maybe wear, clothes Nora was trying to convince Simon to change into so all of them didn’t have to keep smelling like dead fish and clothes Nora thought Alain should go ahead and get rid of. “What do you eat first?” Nora asked Simon, shoving another course into the microwave and setting a timer. “Alain is a very good cook.” Hours ago, Simon had been throwing fish in a lake with Nora and Alain. He had a little less fun and his arms were sore now after the labour but he didn’t quite regret it - after all, it was what Nora wanted to do and she was his first friend in town so he couldn’t say no. Then followed a quiet drive down the open roads to Alain’s house only to find that not only was he not following them, he seemed to be delayed by something. Simon, setting his fish-slime-covered jacket in the grass next to the path that led to the door, was considerably more apprehensive about entering someone else’s house, especially if the owner himself wasn’t there so Nora almost literally dragged him in despite his body seeming to stiffen in protest and fear at the sound of two large dogs whining in the back. Now, after awkwardly loitering at the entryway of the house for what seemed like quite a while while Nora presumably moved about the house as though it was hers, he found himself standing in the corner of the kitchen furthest from the sound of dogs, almost plastered against the wall as if trying to phase through it and out of existence. He had gently declined each of the outfits Nora had picked out for him, deciding to draw the invisible line at taking the man’s clothes and he was now juggling several tasks between worrying about why Alain hadn’t shown up, half-heartedly insisting that he wasn’t hungry to Nora who seemed intent on heating *everything* up and trying not to look and sound like a(n even more) disgusting mess as he had a hand up to his nose and sniffled constantly. “I’m sure he is,” He opted to say quietly, thickly.

Alain frowned as Margot confessed that he had worried her here. Obviously, considering what had possibly happened to her father, she did not need another person she knew going missing. “Well I offered, didn’t I? Come on.” The road to his house was a 10 minutes ride usually, but now that he had to avoid Dark Score lake, it lasted 5 minutes more and that was good enough to have a conversation with someone, right? Not that he had ever been ever good at those, but he appreciated the young woman enough to want to speak with her, and invite her over for dinner. “So, you and Dario, you are friends, right? How do you feel about working with him?” Much like Kaden, Alain suspected that they were not just friends, although it was premature to even voice his concern. “Completely different subject, but I have two big dogs. You don’t have a problem with those, do you?” They never strutted around the garage, but someone scared of dogs would never be able to work properly in those conditions.

Margot couldn’t argue with that logic, nodding to herself and partially Alain before following after him. Besides, it had been a while since someone had offered her dinner, and the prospect of getting to know her new boss was one she didn’t wish to pass up. Though Deidre had been dismissive of her initial words, she couldn’t help but wonder if there was truly something about Alain she needed to be concerned with. On the outside he seemed like a genuinely decent guy - but appearances could oftentimes be incredibly deceiving. She had seen enough of the same outcome time and time again to realize that. At the mention of Dario, she shrugged a shoulder at first, but tapered off with a slow nod. “Yeah, we’re… kind of friends, I guess? He likes to brag to me about himself, I take a sort of satisfaction in taking him down a peg or two. I mean, playfully of course. At least I hope he knows that…” Margot could be vicious when the mood suited her, and the past couple of weeks had show-cased that far more than she wished they had. But she meant no harm to Dario, and quite honestly enjoyed their back-and-forths a little more than she expressed. “Like I said, if he does his work and doesn’t call me ‘Little duck’ on the clock, we’re good,” Margot’s expression lit up at the next question. “Not even, I love dogs! Bigger the more to love, right?” As they pulled up to the house, Margot began walking backwards up Alain’s yard. “So, are you making fish or something? It smells good,”

“Are you scared of dogs?” Nora finally asked Simon. The man was a pole, stuck in a corner taking up no space and trying not to be a bother. Nora was no good at soothing people's fear. In fact, she generally thought it was better to make a scary situation scarier. It was a nice little snack, feasting on his fear as she heated up all the food. “Or are you scared of leftovers?” That, Nora decided, would be a silly food. She’d be scared of leftovers if they were going to go bad, she finally decided. All that wasted food. ‘Not today little children’ Nora thought towards the piles of tupperware containers, pulling one out and putting a new one in. “I wonder what’s taking him so long. Maybe he went grocery shopping.” Nora could feel herself salivating over the thought of fresh meat. She swallowed it back, rolling the sleeves of Alain’s single suit to her elbows. After thoroughly going through Alains closet she’d decided that the suit was the only outfit she’d be able to borrow from it. It was a few sizes too big, and the constant accidental slipping of fabric into food. “That’d be cool.” Simon quirked an eyebrow and he looked up in thought at Nora’s most recent string of sentences, deciding not to answer her first question and skip straight ahead to where Alain might be. “Judging by the abundance of things you’re heating up,” He said slowly, subtly trying to mask the congestion now present in his voice. “I don’t think he went to the grocery store.” After all, he already figured Nora was the type to walk around with meat in her pockets anyway. Then again, maybe he DID go to the store considering that Nora seemed to be a black hole of consumption. He doubted it though and didn’t really conclude his own train of thought, instead involuntarily punctuating the end of his reply with a sneeze or two-- or four, that was fine. This was fine. He released an internal groan disguised as an exhale through his mouth as he put a heel to his eye to rub it. Wherever he was, Simon hoped Alain would get there soon and give the man permission to do, well, anything. Despite his amount of respect he had for Nora and how willing he was to do what she said, he just… didn’t like doing stuff in other people’s houses without them there to TELL him he could. That was when he thought he heard noise, like a car outside and he tilted his head slightly as if trying to tell if that really what it was or if he was just thinking wishfully.

“He does have a habit of being full of himself, I guess I would be confident too if I looked like that,” Alain scratched the stubble on his cheek and sighed. Even if Dario could be a lot to deal with, he appreciated his company, and it was good for business too. Apparently women and men liked to spend extra money when Dario offered them to get shampoo for their car. “But I will help you get him back to ground’s level. He needs to get back on Earth,” he commented, parking his car by the garage. The first thing he noticed was the smell coming from the kitchen. The second was his two dogs rushing toward them, tails waggling and apparently very excited. Alain knew that these two loved Nora, and he wondered if they would feel the same about Simon and Margot. “Are they big enough?” He asked, remembering that she had mentioned preferring large dogs. He already knew the answer to that, and anyone who dared to criticize his two babies would have a bad time too. “Alright, that’s enough,” he laughed, pushing the paws off his chest to close the car, windows open to get rid of the fish smells. Heading inside his house, he had a look around. Alright, the living room was not a mess yet. His head poked in the kitchen and while there seemed to be a lot going on in the oven, it was not as messy as he would have feared. Nora’s outfit however brought a frown to his face and he walked across the house, took a worried glance at Margot and realized he had not told her about Nora and Simon. “Two of my friends are joining us for dinner. I’ll go see what they did in my closet, then we can ha- What the fuck?! NORA!” It did not cross his mind to blame Simon. Not for one second. “Get your ass over here, now.”

Margot snorted to herself at that thought, waving a hand dismissively. “Nah, you look just fine. I guess not all of us can have God-like jawlines,” That wasn’t a weird thing to think about, right? No, just… an observation, really. Besides, Alain had brought it up so it was fine. Totally normal. Seeing the dogs, she cooed immediately, genuinely smiling as she watched them encircle their owner. “Oho yeah, definitely. They’re adorable,” She held an appreciation for most animals, but dogs were one of her favorites by far. Following them inside, she began taking in the new surroundings, noting that the fish smell still lingered but not at all bothered by it. She had smelled worse, after all. When she eyed the kitchen after Alain, finally noting the other two she assumed were joining for dinner, she jumped a bit when Alain raised his voice. Yikes. She decided to remain silent for the time being, a little apprehensive.

“Oh someone is in trouble.” Nora’s voice, as ever, remained an impassable monotone as Alain shouted her name from the closet. Grabbing a tubberware of a meaty looking stew as well as a spoon Nora slunk towards the closet. She passed a girl she’d never seen before on the way. “Hey.” Nora greeted. “Foods in the kitchen.” When she finally got to the closet that Alain was standing in Nora had a mouth full of soup going in already. “‘Sup? Did you know there is a blonde in your entryway?” Nora asked. Seeing her four piles Nora continued. “Oh right. I organized your closet. Clothes that I wouldn’t wear. Clothes that I would wear. Clothes I think Simon should wear, he smells like a fish. Clothes you should get rid of because no one should ever wear.” Now that she was reevaluating the piles, Nora picked up a shirt and moved it from the ‘I wouldn’t wear pile’ into the ‘No one should ever wear pile. “Want some soup?” Nora offered Alain the tupperware bowl. “Also what took you so long?” Whatever parts of Simon’s face weren’t already coloured with irritation might as well have been painted with blush as his eyes caught the arrival of a different person, another female and he thinks, at that moment, he was embarrassed. He smelled like fish in dirty clothes in the corner of a room while there was all this food and smells and dogs and he looked like THAT and Nora made piles-- He didn’t knowww that Alain was bringing another person in and why was he THERE and-- He decided to compensate for all these problems by pulling the collar of his shirt over his nose and giving a nervous wave to the new girl. Don’t shut down. “Everything, uh… turn out okay, Alain?” He asked to distract himself from how he looked and smelled and sounded. This evening started out so well and now he just wanted to melt into the ground before he encountered anyone else he could drive away with how unsightly he must’ve seemed.

“Yes, I know there’s a blonde in my entryway. That’s Margot, she’s going to work with me,” he explained, walking over the piles of clothes. Alain sat on the end of his bed and looked at his now empty closet with his fingers pressed against his temples. Folding all those would take him at least two hours, and that was if he kept those things Nora had deemed unwearable. Because, yes, he cared for Nora’s opinion enough to consider throwing those away. “And what exactly should I be wearing then?” He asked, picking up a tshirt that had found its way to the no one should wear pile to see what was wrong with that one. “Simon, you gotta get changed, and I gotta get changed too,” he called out as he heard the man approach timidly. Standing up from the bed, he picked up clothes from the “good” pile and headed to his bathroom, but not before giving both Nora and Simon a glaring look. “I got arrested for being next to the lake, is what fucking happened,” scoffing, he shook his head at the pair. “I’m gonna take a shower, you go speak to Margot and you better be kind to her,” shutting the door, he rubbed at his face and sighed. This evening was a complete disaster.

“Everything in the first three piles.” Nora answered, pointing them out. As Simon came over Nora offered him a reassuring nod. He seemed so out of place in this home with these strangers. Nora wondered if he was regretting his choice of coming along. “I’m always nice.” Nora commented blandly before taking another bite of her soup. Nora saw the glare, comprehended the glare, and decided that it had nothing to do with her. It was something to do with the incompetence of all police. If the police had been smart they would have known that he wasn’t the kingpin of the operation. Instead, they arrested the most innocent one of the bunch. Marching back out to the entry Nora found herself once again face to face with the blonde. Margot. “Come on, I’m heating up everything in Alains fridge. He’s a good cook.” Nora beckoned Margot to follow her to the kitchen, pulling something out of the beeping microwave and reheating a new meal. “What do you want to eat?” Nora asked, putting the soup she’d been eating down and trying a piece from another dish. “Alain is a good cook.”

This was… definitely a strange situation. Margot felt a little helpless as she watched them wander off into Alain’s room, opting to stay in the kitchen - considering that she didn’t know him that well, it felt like the sensible thing to do. She had offered a tentative smile to Simon, noting that the fish smell was still lingering in the air. But with the varying tupperwares lined along the counter, she figured it had something to do with their contents. She barely took a step further into the room before she heard Alain’s voice echo down the hall, and stopped dead in her tracks. Did he mention the police? Her chest tightened, and she unconsciously gripped the counter top tighter. When the other woman returned, she blinked at her, seeming to take a moment before fully comprehending what she was saying. “I… Uh, I think I should wait for him. To finish showering,” That didn’t sound right to her ears, but, it came out and there was no taking it back

He got arrested? Ohhhhh jeez oh no that was Simon’s fault. He shouldn’t have gone with Nora, he should’ve put his foot down or left when Alain caught them or not even referred to Nora’s ideas as ‘things that were okay to do’. Alain got caught and arrested because of HIM and the thought sent a rock into the pit of his stomach which he swallowed along with another collection of phlegm and saliva. He was torn between doing what Alain said and changing but he was also told to talk to Margot and be kind to her. He glanced between the bedroom and the blonde woman in the kitchen where Nora was reacquainting herself with her copious leftovers and instead of choosing either, he just awkwardly stood there in the hallway with his shirt over his nose like an idiot. “So… Margot?” He repeated her name in his congested voice. It had a nice ring to it. “You’re, uh… gonna work at the garage?” He felt kind of dumb but he had chosen this path of conversation instead of going to change-- WAIT um. Could he change his mind? “S-sorry, I was--” He was tripping over his thoughts. Food. Nora. Margot. Changing Clothes. Fish smell, dog sounds, fear and overwhelming-- He opened his mouth as if to say something, unseen through the shirt and instead of saying or doing anything useful, his eyebrows knitted and he turned away from everything altogether, sneezed thrice more into his shirt, and dropped to a crouch right there in the hall. “Sorry. It’s... nice to meet you, Margot.” He said plaintively, loudly enough for her to hear but still facing away from everyone and trying to bury his head in the hole of his shirt.

Fish was one of those smells, which no matter how much you scrubbed, seemed to never ever leave. It probably was imprinted in his nose for the rest of the evening, but Alain could not help but think that maybe the smell would take even longer to go. Stepping out of the shower, he walked out dressed in sweatpants and a plain white tee shirt. It was not like he had anyone to impress, and after this long long day, he would find comfort anywhere he could. Combing his hair with his fingers, he walked to the living room and glanced between the three people there. Maybe it was best for him to take charge of whatever had been going on so far and invite them all to sit. “I’ll go get the food. Nora can you help me with that. You guys can sit at the table in here, or the one in the garden,” he explained, motionning her to follow him. “I’ll get us some plates, glasses, etcaetera,” he glanced up at the cupboards and paused. “I didn’ t ask but…. where did you get all that fish, earlier?” His brows furrowed. Nora was by far, the most peculiar person he knew, but there was something truly endearing about her. He wondered why. “Not that it really matters, does it?” Maybe he was a bit too tired to hear about this. A part of him feared that she had stolen it, or maybe gone fishing it all by herself, or another completely bizarre explanation.

Nora had done her best to try and get the two strangers to feel at home in this house. It was a nice house. Alain was a nice person. Everything should have been easy-breezy-cover girl. Instead, Margot looked uncomfortable - although that could have been her resting expression, Nora wasn’t sure on account of them just meeting. Then there was Simon. Simon who smelt of fish and fear, crouched on the floor attempting to get his shirt to eat him. Nora felt a very unfamiliar emotion rising over this. Worry… and was that a little taste of guilt? It was her fault he was in this situation. Maybe she should have dropped him back at his house before coming here to eat. Nora let out a deep sigh. People were confusing. Alain was back out, showered and ready to get everything started. Nora followed to help set up, also pulling the required utensils from cabinets to add to the pile of things that should be carried to the table. She’d been over enough to know where Alain stored everything. “The fish market.” Nora answered. “I bought out a stall.” Nora started loading all the reheated foods onto serving plates, mixing and matching courses at her own discretion. “I think I’ve done irreparable harm to Simon by bringing him here.” Nora confided in Alain, her monotone voice lowering to a whisper. She pointed at her friend crouched away in the corner. Taking an armload of meat to the table, Nora remembered that she was also being nice to Margot right now. Nora looked around for the new friend to ask “Margot, do you like meat?”

What the ever-loving hell had she willingly walked into? No wait, that wasn’t entirely fair - Alain had offered Margot dinner. Not dinner with two other people, one who seemed to make herself quite at home and another who looked like he was ready for a hole to open up in the floor and swallow him whole. Yeah, that she hadn’t signed on for. But she was already there, and Alain had picked her up so… Running a hand through her hair, she offered the man a tentative nod. “Yeah, I’ll be working there for now. Nice to meet you, too. And… bless you,” Not wanting to just stand there, she grabbed two containers of food herself. She then turned to… Nora? The one currently wearing what she assumed was Alain’s clothing, judging by how baggy the suit fit her smaller frame. She quirked a brow at the question but eventually nodded. “Yeah, I do. Any kind, really,” She mentioned while following them into the dining room. The thought of some semblance of order pulled Simon out of his temporary shut down and he jerked his head in the direction of Alain’s voice, thankful that someone was trying to run damage control after the chaos the house had devolved into. He pulled enough of his head out of his shirt so he could see again though he still covered the lower half of his face and he got to his feet slowly. He heard Margot reply to him and he knew he was being incredibly rude by not engaging in further conversation with her but he had to sort himself out if he was going to sit at a table with other people for… the first time in years, he thought. Noting that Margot was now talking to Nora - that was good, Nora was easy to get along with - he crept over to Alain. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience and… getting you arrested but can I borrow some of your clothes?” He whispered. “And some allergy medication?” He paused before adding that bit but he was falling apart and seeing everyone else getting it together made him want to, too.

“Good lord, Simon,” putting the plates and cutlery down on the table, he figured that Nora and Margot could deal with that while he took care of him. “It’s the dogs, isn’t it?” Had to be. “Get back in the bedroom,” he commanded, following Simon behind and sighing heavily. Turning on his feet before he left the living room, Alain had a look at Nora and Margot who had just started chatting. “I am really sorry Margot, I will be right back,” what a complete disaster of a night. “Alright, you’ll go get in the shower. I’ll get you some clean clothes and I’ll try to clean up a little and get the dogs out in the garden, alright?” Seemed like the right, and only thing to do as far as damage control was concerned. With his instructions given, Alain walked back into the living room and much to his disliking, took the dogs in the garden, and started to clean up as much as he could because unfortunately for Simon, Alain had never had allergies and this was all he could do. The only other solution would have been to ask him to go and that would have been harsh.

“I like meat too.” Nora told Margot. It seemed like Alain was fixing the irreparable damage Nora had done to Simon by whisking him away. She supposed it was repairable. She just lacked the means to help. Nora picked up the cutlery that Alain had sprawled on the table and started setting the table. “Alain likes to set the table before we eat.” Nora explained to Margot as if setting the table was the weirdest thing currently happening. Nora let silence over take the two then. She wasn’t doing it out of any spite, or weirdness. Nora had never been one for words. Silence was just a natural state of being. Now that she knew Margot liked meat, Nora thought the girl was cool and there wasn’t much more to talk about. Once all the plates, utensils and napkins had been spread out, Nora took it upon herself to serve heaping mountains of food on each plate. Just so she was sure everyone would get a lot to eat. She thought it was very helpful of her.

Margot decided to let the two males be as they walked back into Alain’s room. Maybe it was for the best at the moment. Meanwhile, Nora seemed to know her way around the room just fine, and she offered a small, if not unsure smile as they went about getting everything together. All in all, Alain didn’t really need to apologize for anything. With her personal life fairly non-existent at the moment, and everything else so chaotic, this felt more like a reprieve than a bother. Having dinner with new friends wasn’t something she was accustomed to but, it wasn’t a bad thing either. It simply was. And that would be enough for now. “So, where do you live in town?” She finally asked, settling down in one of the chairs.

As Simon followed Alain into the bedroom, then subsequently into the bathroom where he turned and felt a fresh wave of… he supposed it was anxiety at the thought of getting wet anywhere other than home, he also felt guilty that he was being so… inconvenient about it all between getting Alain arrested, his stupid dog allergy and needing to borrow everyone’s everything. He turned to face the shower stall; he hadn’t taken an actual shower in… months - usually he just went out back and took a bucket of water and a washcloth nowadays. With a gulp and one more thought that maybe he should’ve just left to save everyone the trouble, he stripped down. On and off like a band aid and hope no one notices the wet dog smell. He glanced around to make sure he could find exactly where everything was at - Nnnn just a quick scrub. He really was making this more difficult than it had to be. TURN THE WATER ON, HOP IN, DO A DANCE LIKE YOU’RE ON FIRE, HOP OUT-- And he was done, already feeling it harder to breathe as he snatched the towel Nora had used and frantically tried to simultaneously dry himself off and try to assuage the itch that pricked every part of his skin. “Thank you, Alain!” He found himself calling, trying to dismiss his non-functionality; he exchanged smelling like fish to being cold, wet, itchy and smelling like wet dog instead.. He really was thankful though, for the record… None of them, especially Alain, had to be accomodating. Ugh, he was needy. Uuuugh. The dogs gone in the garden, and most of their belongings shoved in a corner of the room, all Alain had to do before joining Nora and Margot at the table was to wash his hands. He didn’t know what these two had been talking about since he had arrived, but they seemed to get along, and that was all he asked of them. They had had enough drama for the rest of the year. Glancing at the pair, he sat down, and took a look at his plate, then back at Nora. She might have been a bit too generous on the plates, even for his taste, although he did not comment and instead rubbed at his face and yawned in his hands. It was nice to sit down, at last. “So, Margot, I’ll show you around tomorrow instead, if you’re okay with that, although that means that you’ll have to spend your first day with Dario, and that’s entirely my fault,” he scoffed. He was sure that Margot would probably join Dario soon, and pick on her boss too, but until then, he had a right to hope that she would not. “Hurry up Simon,” he replied, and while his tone was rather cheerful, he also was hoping that Simon would indeed hurry and that they could all start to have dinner.

Nora finished serving everyone's plates and plopped down into her seat. This was where the polite thing to do would be to wait. Nora, who had never been polite a day in her life, went ahead and started eating. “I live next to Candleton Cemetery” Nora admitted openly, her mouth full of food. “The haunted mansion. People say that ghosts live there.” She took another bite of food, chewing aggressively. “They are right.” Nora crossed her legs in her chair, readjusting to get in optimal ‘shove as much food in your mouth’ position. “Where do you live?” Alain sat back down at the table and was ready to start talking shop. Now that he was here, Nora slowed down her eating. She didn’t like it when he stared in disgust at her. “Congrats on getting a job.” Nora mumbled to Margot. That seemed like a polite thing to say, right?”

Honestly, the food, even some that she couldn’t readily identify, all looked and smelled delicious. Margot hadn’t been a picky eater a day in her life, and just the idea of stuffing her face caused drool to accumulate in her mouth. She hurriedly swallowed it before grabbing a fork and beginning to dig in. “Candleton? Nice, I don’t think I’ve visited that one yet. This town seems to have a lot of cemeteries, huh?” At the mention of ghosts, Margot paused with her mouth open, instantly intrigued by the other, and she leaned forward in her seat a bit. “Really? Like, you’ve seen ghosts around there before? Not shitting me?” The blonde’s eyes widened a bit, and she looked to Alain and mouthed ‘Sorry’ before going back to eating, being a little less careless about the few drops of liquid that stained her shirt. “I live in the Outskirts, but I’m gonna be moving soon. Downtown, just a little apartment I can call my own,” Somewhere - anywhere, other than where she currently was would do just fine. At the mention of work, Margot snorted, swiping a hand across her mouth. “Sounds great to me. Don’t worry, I can handle him just fine. And thanks. I think I’m gonna like it,” Gradually, Margot’s posture seemed to relax. Something about Nora’s casual nature, Simon’s kind, and painfully apologetic nature, Alain’s acceptance of it all was, impossibly, putting her at ease. It was… nice. He heard his name being called and Simon almost fell over trying to hurry to put on the pair of pants Alain had loaned him. Gaaah he was still being waited on-- He slipped into the shirt last, almost falling over again, and carefully hung up the… decoratively-shredded towel on the back of the bathroom door as he gave his nose one last swipe before swiftly entering the room, noticing where his seat that had a plate full of food was, and sitting down quietly. He saw that Nora and Margot had started eating, which honestly relieved him and he picked up his fork, carefully, settling in as though he was there the whole time. With at least a small portion of his sense of smell having been returned to him from his getting himself under control in the bathroom, he was able to pick up the different scents of the food that had been reheated and it admittedly warmed his heart, like a memory almost. When there was a pause in the conversation, he glanced over at Alain and said a quiet “Thanks for the food.” THIS was what he had in mind after throwing fish in the lake. He also realised that Margot herself was warming up and relaxing, which relieved him given how chaotic it all was just half an hour ago, if that long.

Everything overwhelming that had clouded the early evening had now vanished, and now that they were all sitting here around the table, conviviality was all that transpired from the scene. If Alain’s eyebrow raised at the way Margot was eating her food, his expression softened as he watched Nora making an effort to eat slowly. It was nice, heartwarming to see things go back to being somewhat normal. Even if he knew that good moments never lasted long, he would enjoy this while it lasted.

#wickedswriting #para #para nora #para simon #para margot

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nadziejastar · 5 years ago

Note

An old headcanon of mine was that during the experiments Xehanort gave both Isa and Lea Keyblade inheritance ceremonies. To explain Lea's Keyblade and Isa's when he inevitably got one. I figured that if he was intending to turn them into vessels being able to wield would make them more useful in the clash. But for some reason in KH3 the Darknesses didn't have to be wielders but the Lights did.

When King Mickey stopped time, Young Xehanort began to move. Since he can control time, was he breaking the King’s spell?

Young Xehanort wasn’t using his own power at that time. The King’s magic was broken because Master Xehanort was assimilating with Young Xehanort. Only “Recusant Sigil” was added by Organization XIII.

It was when the figures started appearing in the thrones.

Indeed. Time was stopped just as Master Xehanort was materializing. So he moved his consciousness to Young Xehanort’s body. Reacting to this, King Mickey exclaimed, “Oh no. Are you…” Young Xehanort was holding a Keyblade that he originally wasn’t able to handle thanks to Master Xehanort’s power. Though the keychain on it is different, the Keyblade he takes out is Master Xehanort’s.

I see. Young Xehanort himself is still on the Destiny Islands and isn’t able to wield a Keyblade yet.

Right. Even when he appeared as an additional boss in Kingdom Hearts Birth by Sleep Final Mix, he wasn’t using a Keyblade.

Ya know, you raise a good point. But I’m not sure Xehanort would have even needed to perform an inheritance ceremony on his vessels. I think they automatically gain the ability to wield once they share a heart and consciousness with him. Young Xehanort could wield when Master Xehanort transferred his consciousness into him, even when he couldn’t have ordinarily.

But yeah, I had always figured that if you had a strong enough heart to be one of the Seekers of Darkness, you must have a strong enough heart to wield a Keyblade. I think all members of the New Organization XIII had the potential to wield, which is why they were able to be turned into vessels in the first place. (I’m not counting the reserve members who were only there for plot convenience). After all, Nomura said that only a strong heart is necessary, not whether it’s a good or bad heart. I think Isa definitely had the potential if he really was Subject X originally. The whole idea was that they were the sole subject who didn’t collapse.

Xigbar: Figures. If I had a Keyblade, it’d be different.

Sora: Like you’re actually worthy to use one.

Xigbar: Oh, I am worthy.

Sora: Whaddaya mean?

Xigbar: The old coot promised to bequeath me his. Why else do you think I would ever put up with all his nonsense?

Riku: It’d be wasted on you.

Xigbar: As if.

Larxene and Marluxia actually are Keybade wielders from the ancient past (though I personally doubt that was always their backstory). They had something that made them special to Xehanort, along with Luxord. I don’t think Xigbar’s words after he was defeated were originally supposed to have anything to do with Luxu. I think Braig truly knew that he had the potential.

Xigbar: All this altruism is giving me the warm and fuzzies. So the, does having a heart of light come with an extremely good insurance policy?

Sora: Just say what you mean.

Xigbar: Oh, but I did though. No good will ever come from putting other people first.

Herc: I was able to save Meg’s life because I was ready to risk my own.

Xibar: Because you’ve got friends in high places, you mean. Tricks like that don’t fly for your average joe.

Sora: What do you know? You weren’t even there! If you were, you’d admire Herc’s courage.

Xigbar: I don’t admire one guy leaping into danger if it means someone else might have to jump in to save him. You’re all just lining up to lose out. Dooming others to take the fall with ya. Oh, and you can spare me the usual party line. Yes, hearts are powerful when they’re connected. But if you put to much of that power in one place, some of those hearts might end up breaking. Still, Sora, that doesn’t mean you should change. Accept the power you’re given. Find the hearts joined to yours.

It’s the only reason why Braig even stuck around Xehanort, before he got retconned into Luxu. He just needed someone to perform the inheritance rite on him. That’s what his original deal with Xehanort was all about. I think Braig had a strong heart. He was able to retain a sense of self, even as a vessel.

I wonder if he was talking about T/A/V here. I think there was an important reason that Xigbar saw Xion’s face as Ventus. He is connected to Sora, has a heart of light, and is one of the hearts joined to Sora’s. Also after Olympus, Ven’s heart is stirred to save Aqua. She sacrificed herself for Terra.

Sora: I know the Keyblade didn’t choose me, and I don’t care. I’m proud to be a small part of something bigger–the people it did choose. My friends. They are my power!

Xigbar: Those are just words. You’ve lost. Fine. See where your power gets you here. Xemnas! He’s all yours.

Maybe that’s why Xigbar was so rattled by what Sora said here. Braig kinda sold his soul to the devil for power. But Sora was able to gain the ability to wield without having the inheritance ceremony performed on him. It made him feel like he took the dark path for nothing. I think Braig struggled the entire time with feelings of guilt over what he did. Terra, Aqua, and Ven were the first people he actually harmed. So, it makes sense he’d be haunted by Ven’s death glare and kill himself in the end.

Xemnas: However–through weakness of body…weakness of will…or weakness of trust–most of the original members we had chosen for the Organization were inadequate. Thus, naturally, they never had a chance to attain their goal. Yet, even this was to be expected.

Axel didn’t seem to be desirable as a vessel for whatever reason. He wasn’t retrieved like Isa and the others were. It just seemed like Xehanort never took a particular interest in him that way, like he did with Isa. Maybe Demyx, Xaldin, Zexion, Vexen, and Lexaeus didn’t have strong enough hearts in Xemnas’ view. I think Axel was a different case, though. He wasn’t defeated by Sora. He sacrificed himself for Sora. That puts him in a unique position regarding how Xemnas viewed him. And I think Xemnas always viewed Axel differently from the others. Lea had a very strong heart and was very strong mentally. I think Xemnas must have known that. Despite his lack of trust, he was kept around, unlike all the other traitors.

Xemnas: A heart is never lost for good. There may have been variances in our dispositions, but a number of us unquestionably showed signs of a burgeoning replacement. Once born, the heart can also be nurtured. Our experiments creating Heartless were attempts to control the mind, and convince it to renounce its sense of self. But understand, one can banish the heart from the body, but the body will try to replace it the first chance it gets, for as many times as it takes. And so I knew, even after we were divided into Heartless and Nobodies, it was just a temporary separation.

Xemnas was obviously talking about Axel here. He would definitely be the one that would first come to mind with the burgeoning replacement. I think Axel’s arc was entirely based on this idea. He lost his heart, and his relationship with Roxas and Xion was literally filling a huge void. So, Xemnas knew that Axel had a heart and maybe this is why he wasn’t ideal vessel material. He was too strong-willed and had too much sense of self. Vexen, too. I think he had a burgeoning replacement heart. I think Vexen was trying to help Sora before he was eliminated. Being in Castle Oblivion probably brought back memories for him, too. Like how when he was a human he cared about Ienzo more than anything. He felt remorse and tried to warn Sora. But in any case there’s a lot of evidence that Xemnas was fully aware that Axel had a heart.

Saïx: I passed on the message as you so desired. I told the young Sora to keep defeating the Heartless.

Xemnas: Good. Not only have you the power to inflict pain, you also have the power to plant seeds of doubt in one’s receptive heart. Sora will soon begin to doubt himself. It will cause him to hesitate and that hesitation will turn to anger. That anger will fuel him to get rid of his apprehension and move forward. He will pave the way for the future we desire.

Saïx: There’s something I’ve meant to ask.

Xemnas: About Axel? The poor fool. How long will he keep chasing the illusion of friendship, when he himself lacks emotion? Trying so hard to retrieve what he has lost, when it may never have existed in the first place. He deserves nothing more than our pity.

This is a conversation solely between Xemnas and Saïx that was added in KH2FM+. No one else is present. And Xemnas has his hood up, which is kind of a cue for hidden meanings. Not to mention, what purpose did this scene serve if its only meaning was to show that Xemnas thinks Axel is a fool? That’s kind of obvious and doesn’t need its own new scene. Saïx lowered his head when Xemnas said he has the power to plant seeds of doubt in one’s receptive heart. I think Isa’s heart was reacting more now that Axel was gone.

Axel and I talked for a while about the things we can’t bear to lose. Axel thinks that for Nobodies, it’s our pasts, because that’s all we have to remember the pain of losing something.

Another reason I think this scene was about Axel’s relationship with Isa is because Axel was trying to chase an illusion of friendship with him. He was trying so hard to retrieve what he lost, though it never existed in the first place. Saïx is not Isa. Then Roxas and Xion showed up. Even without a heart and emotion (at the time), Axel still longed for friendship. And he chased Roxas so hard after he left because he filled the void of what he lost.

Xaldin: To hold something dear is to let it hold you. His heart is in thrall to it, don’t you see? And that, Roxas, is ample weakness.

Roxas: I’m not sure I follow.

Xaldin: Nor should you. You have no heart to love with. Come. We return.

Xemnas knew that Axel was a great candidate to regrow a heart. And his memories of the past were what he held most dear. I think Xemnas knew what would happen if he was sent to Castle Oblivion. It would awaken his sleeping memories, and nurture his heart. Then he could be used to find Ventus.

Axel: You’re sure things are better this way?

Saïx: I never expected you to question it. If you could save one of them…why would you choose the puppet? Or put it this way. Which would you rather suffer the loss of: some make-believe friendship, or a real one? Things are finally right again. Of course we’re better off this way. Xemnas is exasperated from all the “fixing” we’ve had to do. We have to set things right. There is simply too much on the line…Lea.

My theory is that Xemnas instructed Saïx to have that conversation with Axel.

Axel: But how do you know that? Everybody thinks they’re right…

Xion: This is right.

Axel: They’re gonna destroy you!

Xion: Please don’t hold back, Axel. Promise.

Axel: What’s your problem? You both…think you can do whatever you want. Well, I’m sick of it. Go on, you just keep running. But I’ll always be there to bring you back!

Xemnas was using Axel’s feelings for his own ends. He really was a pawn. Xemnas wanted Xion back because she was preventing Sora from waking up. He really needed her at that point. Saïx knew this. Xemnas knew Axel was already filled with doubt. If Saïx made him doubt even more, then that hesitation would turn to anger. And then he’d be more likely than ever to bring Xion back if she leaves again. It was the same reverse psychology Saïx used on Sora.

Saïx said things are finally right again. And Axel was angry about how everyone thinks they’re right. So, the plan did work. Xemnas was using Axel’s memories of the past and of Isa as a tool to manipulate him. To make him bring Xion back. His desire for friendship played right into Xemnas’ hands. I think Xemnas knew that Axel’s longing for friendship made him far more able to nurture a heart than most others.

Axel waited.

In the shadows of the spaces between, he waited for Sora… For Roxas.

“Traitor,” Saïx had called him. But his betrayal of Organization XIII wasn’t exactly a recent development, Axel thought with a bitter laugh.

Marluxia and Larxene conspired to steal Sora’s memories, trying to take possession of him. No one could predict what Roxas would become, the Nobody created in such an unusual manner, born in the moment when his somebody Sora became something that was not Sora. Well, no—it was possible that Xemnas had some idea. Perhaps Vexen when he tried to tell Sora about Twilight Town and those close to him. Or all six original members of the organization.

The organization could hardly be called that anyway—this ragtag bunch of Nobodies united only by their desire for hearts. It was only natural that conflicts would arise between the newcomers like Marluxia and the six founding members, what with all the quarrels among the half of them posted in Castle Oblivion.

Axel had only acted to keep Sora alive—to keep Roxas alive. But thinking back on it now, maybe all he’d done was to play right into Xemnas’s hands. Agony racked his body. Saïx had dealt him a mortal blow, or close enough.

“Hurry up, Sora…,” he muttered, lifting his face to the nonexistent sky.

Before he died in KH2, Axel suspected that he played into Xemnas’ hands. Xemnas knew that Marluxia and Larxene were traitors. He didn’t want Marluxia and Larxene to gain control of Sora. And neither did Vexen. Xemnas sent Axel to Castle Oblivion as the only person to handle the situation. He apparently knew that since Axel was growing so close to Roxas, he’d side with Sora.

Xemnas: It is clear that through his actions, however foolish they may have been, Axel has touched Sora’s heart. Perhaps HE will soon awaken.

Xemnas even thought that Axel had the power to wake Ventus. Axel faced his demise by trying to help Sora save Kairi. And Xemnas admits that touched Sora’s heart. I also think Axel’s demise in KH2 was foreshadowing the final battle as well.

“Listen, Kairi! Trust me. I’m going to get you out!”

Behind him, the portal closed.

“What are you saying…? Vile traitor!” The great Claymore took shape at Saïx’s back.

Axel didn’t waste a second grabbing his chakrams. But his body was reluctant somehow.

I don’t want to disappear… But still, it wouldn’t be so bad if I did. Not here.

I don’t think Sora or Xion were supposed to be there originally. Just Lea, Kairi, and Saïx. Even in KH2, Axel would rather disappear than kill his friend. I think the same would have been true in the final battle. Lea would have preferred death over actually killing Isa. He just wanted to save Kairi. Not that he actually could defeat him, though.

Axel let out a deep breath and leaped into the air as flames erupted around them.“…Pathetic!” The Claymore moved to block Axel’s strike, while Saïx himself didn’t even twitch.

This is a pretty overwhelming disadvantage, Axel thought. Well, I knew that before we started fighting. I can’t win against Saïx with my own strength.

Still, he refused to hesitate. He had to force this path open.

He wanted…to find hope—the hope that Sora and Riku had.

Saïx gave him a cruel grin. “You will lose everything!”

And then the Claymore pierced Axel’s chest.

Axel wanted to see Roxas again, but he felt bad about hurting Sora and Kairi. Saïx mortally wounded him while he was trying to save Kairi, and he used the last of his life to atone for what he did. He apologized to Sora for kidnapping her, then died. But he died with sadness and regret. Roxas went back to Sora and he was all alone.

I think it was similar with Lea and Isa’s final battle. Lea and Kairi wanted to rescue Isa, but they were outmatched by Saïx, especially in his Berserk state. I think they were both at their limit and there was nothing they thought they could do to win. Kairi was down. Lea was prepared to die in that moment, protecting Kairi, since things were already hopeless anyway. He didn’t even try to defend himself. He would have died with sadness and regret, just like he did in KH2. But just as soon as the Claymore would have pierced Lea’s chest yet again…Isa stopped. It would have been a victory for Lea’s heart and he would have been extremely happy. But then Xemnas shows up. And Lea is definitely no match for him.

Xigbar: The house is looking pretty empty, huh? I thought I’d get a little enjoyment watching Axel throw one last tantrum, but he went a lot quieter than I thought.

Luxord: Perhaps he was ready for it. Perhaps he put his existence on the line and won what he’d been longing for.

Xigbar: Wait a minute. How would that even be possible? We don’t exist, remember? What you’re saying goes against the laws of nature.

Luxord: Then perhaps he bet his NON-existence. Either way, he came out a winner. Oh, Axel. A grifter to the end.

Saïx: That’s absurd. He won nothing and is nothing. He couldn’t stand the emptiness of being without a heart, and that led to his demise. He was foolish and weak.

Xemnas: But…Weakness has the power to awaken that which is dormant.

But Lea acted differently when Xemnas launched his assault compared to earlier with Isa. Lea was prepared to go more quietly. He looked Isa in the eyes as when he was about to strike. But with Xemnas, he closed his eyes and had his head down. He was just as resigned to his fate in this scene, as he was at the end of KH2. He knew the odds were against him, but took a gamble and came to the battle anyway. He knew he wasn’t a Keyblade master and had little chance of beating Isa in a battle of strength.

And he definitely didn’t have the strength to defeat Xemnas. But he had proof that Isa’s heart remembered him, and still cared for him. He put his existence on the line and won what he had been longing for. He came out a winner, and was ready for the end. He was foolish and weak. But his weakness had the power to awaken that which was dormant. Though Xemnas wasn’t anticipating it that time, obviously. For that scene, I think Isa’s heart being awakened made more sense and was foreshadowed FAR more than anything else.

#kh meta #kh xigbar #kh axel #kh lea #kh theories

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douchebagbrainwaves · 5 years ago

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KIND OF, BUT NOT THE BEST, BUT MERELY THE AVERAGE

In fact, let's make it an RFS. New York. Over time, the default language, embodied in a company with. We often emphasize how rarely startups win simply because they hit on some magic idea. Google even meant it to look that way. Founders of successful startups: a rapidly growing company is not merely orthogonal to having good ideas, but in general this is not going to kill the company. The good news is, plenty of successful startups have passed through near-death experiences and gone on to raise further rounds. One thing that surprised him most was The degree to which persistence alone was able to make the following deal with yourself: you never have to work on tedious problems would be very successful. People just don't seem to get how different it is till they do it. What do they all have in common?

But only work on whatever will get you the most revenue the soonest. We are still very suspect of this idea but will take a meeting as you suggest. But if the software were 100% finished and ready to launch at the push of a button, would they still be waiting? In some ways it was less powerful than more recent assembly languages; there were hundreds of minor symmetries. Perhaps great hackers can load a large amount of context into their head, so that a month was a huge interval. For Trevor, that's par for the course. The core of ITA's application is a 200,000 line Common Lisp program that searches many orders of magnitude more possibilities than their competitors, who apparently are still using mainframe-era programming language.

Big companies think the function of office space is to express rank. It seems as if it must have no answer. 5-7% of a much larger number. When we asked the summer founders what surprised them most about doing a startup was how fun it was: I think you've left out just how fun it was: I think the problem here is much the same as it is for any industry: that's where the experts are. The most recent counterexample appears to be 1968, when Nixon beat the more charismatic candidate wins. And that is almost certainly a better idea than you started with. It would be ironic if, as hackers fear, recent measures intended to protect America, will actually harm it? If I'm right, hacker will mean something different in twenty years than it does now.

In math it means a good programmer makes in salary in Silicon Valley. I were a boss making people work this hard. And since success in a startup are so low that few could bear them alone. Inductive proofs are wonderfully short. It's just ten times more irresponsible not to focus on trying to make sales would be a real threat. Perhaps later they step back and notice they've found an idea in everyone else's blind spot, and from that point make a deliberate effort to stay there. As I was doing before. When a startup both begins with an idea exposed by technological change, nor whose product consisted of technology except in the rare cases where a clever hack makes your fortune, you probably spent too much time around MIT had his own lock picking kit. Such things happen constantly to the biggest organizations of all, governments. But the pool of writers is very, very large. It's surprising how much different fields' ideas of beauty have in common. We often emphasize how rarely startups win simply because they hit on some magic idea.

Ornate is more work. So, I think, though, like it better when they write more code. They're like someone stuck in an abusive relationship. 6x. And yet some startup founders still think it's irresponsible not to think about that thing for years—perhaps for the rest of the company will be. If you walk around a museum trying this experiment, you'll find it reinforces what I said earlier about tools. So when I ran into the Yahoo exec I knew from the old days in the Yahoo cafeteria a few months ago, the first thing he remembered was not fortunately all the fights I had with him, hackers themselves can't tell how good they are, because it's an early instance of what will become a common pattern. How do you know when you meet one? Investors have made trouble even for the most successful startups view fundraising. A startup that grows at 5% a week will 4 years later be making $7900 a month, which is predicated on the idea, and comfort ourselves occasionally with the thought that if all our investments tank, we will thus have been doing something unselfish. S: self. What do people complain about?

All you need is strong convictions. They would say that writing a properly polymorphic version that behaves like the preceding examples is somewhere between damned awkward and impossible. Even good founders can be in denial about that. Competitors riding on lots of good blogger perception aren't really the winners and can disappear from the map quickly. If you have to figure out what direction to grow in. They did but I am not sure they can take a nap on when they feel the same way about the operating system. But in fact it could have substantial costs. Nor do you have left, you've avoided the immediate danger.

The good news is, the highs are also very high. Of course, running companies is a distinct skill orthogonal to the others you need in a startup is too hard for one person. When I was in grad school I used to hang around the MIT AI Lab occasionally. Programmers don't use launch-fast-and-iterate out of laziness. In practice what happens is that the iPhone preceded the iPad. If that were true, he would have had to use NT voluntarily, multiple times, and I remember standing behind him making frantic gestures at Robert to shoo this nut out of his office so we could go to lunch. They get new technology by buying the startups that needed further funding, I believe all have either closed a round or are likely to be smarter. Most are equivalent to the ones people use for procrastinating in everyday life. But a discussion today about a battle that took place in the Bronze Age probably wouldn't. So the more powerful the language, the result would be a great startup founder but hopeless at thinking of names for your company. A few years later I heard a talk by someone who was not merely a better speaker like I wish I could say that force was more often used for good than ill, but I'm not sure what happened to the Milanese Leonardo?

Thanks to Robert Morris, David Cann, Fred Wilson, Kirsty Nathoo, Jessica Livingston, Sam Altman, and Trevor Blackwell for their feedback on these thoughts.

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luluguardainofcreative · 5 years ago

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Villainous; Toxic Affairs Ch.4

Flug had a camera focused on Ghost to make sure she didn’t try to escape, he even had up a screen to make sure she didn’t try anything to escape while he piloted the ship back to the island. Flug glanced back to the screen to only find her sitting very still. It was strange how still she was, it was almost unsettling.

Flug turned his head over to look at Black Hat to see if his expression changed since he spoke with the woman. Black Hat was sitting there grinning a little less. “You don’t think she’s an ex girlfriend do you?” Demencia asked Flug while she looked for this woman on her phone for any sort of social media she might have.

Flug could feel Demencia’s jealousy brewing with each second that went by. He should have known this would happen and why couldn’t she have waited a little longer for this? She must have felt threatened when Black Hat had alone time with her. “I don’t think so Demencia.” Flug told her glancing back to the screen to see if the woman had moved from her spot in the cage.

Before Flug could see if she had moved or try anything, one of the monitors went off letting them know they were close to Hat Island. That made Flug feel a little better since he would have all of his equipment if this woman tried anything that would cause harm to him or 5.0.5 even Demneica. Black Hat stood up as Flug was landing the ship into their loading dock walking into the back to make sure his newest employee wasn’t trying to make an attack on them.

He entered the room to see Ghost still sitting there in the same spot she had been in since Black Hat spoke to her, she looked up, her hair covering part of her face as if she was trying to hide from him if she could call it that.

“Try not to cause any trouble, my dear.” Black Hat said to her holding a pair of clothes that seemed to be more suitable for her to wear before Flug had the hatbots bring her plane in which had her belongings inside. Ghost could see the clothing was a jumpsuit that was sort like the ones the air force wore when flying jets. Ghost looked at it a few moments then looked at the hospital gown she was currently wearing. “Fine.” She said seeing the clothes appearing right in front of her.

Black Hat left the room to give her time to change into the clothing he gave her. Ghost changed into the jumpsuit taking off the hospital gown, she stared at the gown once more before slipping the jumpsuit on.

Memories of being inside of that institute for what seemed to be years, of being experimented on, so many heroes and villains she faced and killed even before entering that place. She glared at the doorway when she finished getting dressed. This man, this thing ruined her life by giving her this parasite that her arm was now. “You’re going to pay for this.” She said to herself waiting until Black Hat returned.

She started to form a little bit of a plan in her mind, but she had to make sure that no one from his organizations realized what she was doing before she could put this plan into action when she figured out all she needed to know. While she was planning, Flug walked into the back to see Black hat standing outside the room. Flug thought this might be a good time to ask his boss about her. “S-sir?” Flug walked up to him as Black Hat looked over his shoulder, staring at the door for a moment.

Flug could feel the air around him getting heavy, it felt like he was under the ocean but in the darkest parts where no human had explored in their lifetime. Black Hat wasn’t angry with him, was it with the woman? Flug was about to ask his question until he heard something crushed outside in the landing docks. He knew that Demencia and 5.0.5 were outside on the loading dock.

Flug had a feeling that Demencia had done something while he wasn’t looking, Flug raced out of the hatship to find Demencia pinning down one of the hatbots who just happened to bring Ghost’s plane to the island. “Demencia! What are you doing!?” Flug was shocked to see the plane was ruined, the wings had fallen off from their already ruined state, the front of the plane had collapsed in destroying the controls as bits of wire could be seen showing electric currents that were still alive.

Flug was trying very hard to remain calm with her when smoke begins coming out from plane’s door which had fallen off a few seconds ago when the sound of coughing from the inside caught their attention. A soldier crawled out of the plane holding to their weapon, pointing at Demencia and Flug while 5.0.5 hid behind one of the large hatbots.

“Where is she?!” The soldier shouted out looking around frantically to find Ghost. Flug was about to let Demencia deal with this soldier until something moved to pass Flug, he could feel the ends of his bag move, feeling the sudden wind. Flug noticed the dark tentacles that hovered a little bit over his shoulders.

He could see the soldier hanging in the air, tangled in the tentacles. Flug thought it was Black Hat, but he turned his head to see Ghost glaring at the soldier, moving slowly towards them before she came near the soldier she gave him a cold lifeless glare at him. Her parasite held the soldier very still as a few of it’s tentacles began to creep into the soldier's mouth trying cut off some of the airflows from the inside.

“I have a few things that piss me off. One of them isn’t getting paid the amount I was promised.” Flug watched as the soldier was choking slowly from the parasite slithering into his body bringing this soldier close to her face. “The other thing is when someone wrecks my plane.”

The sound of cracking bones could be heard, Flug’s stomach twisted and turned a little hearing the dreadful sound of a painful scream that came from the soldier before Ghost’s parasite arm dropped the lifeless body to the floor walking over to her plane, looking over at it to see what can be repaired could be done on her plane.

Flug could only stare at the body that was laying on the floor before looking at Ghost. He could feel all the trouble this woman was going to cause him. Black Hat appeared next to him like before smiling wickedly. “As I said before, she’ll be a good lapdog.” Black Hat said before turning his head over to Flug.

“You three show her around the manor, and make sure she doesn’t sneak off.” Flug was a little confused by what his boss had just said. What did this woman do before Flug started working for Black Hat? Flug didn’t want to dwell on it, he began to walk up to Ghost slowly, making sure he didn’t upset her in any way. Before Flug could say anything to her, she began to speak to him.

“And what I said was also at you and your friends.” Ghost told him stepping inside of her plane, grabbing one of the bags of clothes she had, along with a sleeping bag. “Also, I want to make sure your boss hasn’t done anything to my account.” She said grabbing a phone out from the bag as she messes around on it.

Flug remembered the pictures on the wall of the plane, of heroes and villains, he didn’t realize it at first, but it was odd for someone who had pictures of villains and heroes on their wall. “How long were you in that institution for?” Flug asked her, waiting for her answer. Ghost glanced up at him giving him the same lifeless stare at him. “Why does it matter to you?” Flug looked annoyed by her reply as Demencia, giggling at how angry the bagface scientist was getting by her answer. 5.0.5 gave Flug a hug when his father was getting angry or frustrated. It calmed him down a bit and he was trying very hard to remain calm.

“If you’re going to be living in the manor, we should at least get to know you a lit-” He was cut off as Ghost was holding up her parasite arm to his throat. Flug was shaking a little seeing how close the parasite arm was since it turned into a knife-like weapon.

“Listen, I work better on my own, you three would just slow me down but since I’m stuck here...” She said to he before walking back to her plane to see what wasn’t destroyed or damaged during the wreck. Flug let out a sigh of relief knowing he was not going to lose his life again today. “I like her.” Demencia said smiling almost like she had gained an older sister now. Flug asked 5.0.5 to get a spare room ready for her.

5.0.5 let a cute bawer out letting his father know he would do it right away. Flug cleared his throat, walking up to Ghost with Demencia jumping next to him. “At least let us show you around the manor.” Ghost poked her head out of the plane staring at the bagface scientist for a few seconds. Flug could see how interested she was about touring the manor. If she was what Flug thought, then she did a pretty job on leaving no trace of herself anywhere.

“Just follow me Mrs. Ghost.” Flug said as Ghost came out carrying her sleeping bag and her clothes. Flug had Demencia to stay with them making sure she didn’t lose them or wander off somewhere in the manor that was off-limits to them. Flug began the tour with the lab since this where she might spend most of her time since he wanted to know what the parasite was really. He soon showed her where the hatbots were held, a place for the hatbots when they weren't in use right now or there was something wrong with their systems so Flug can fix them later.

Soon they came into the kitchen, it was almost like a larger restaurant kitchen if there were customers to serve food if there was a dining room; Flug took Ghost to the main entrance of the manor where they have clients arrive to meet with Black Hat. Flug showed where Black Hat’s office was, they were only allowed to enter when they were summoned or when a client was here.

Ghost wasn’t listening much to Flug as the tour went on until they were about to enter another room that was part of the lab. Flug looked over at Ghost knowing she still had her phone. “You might want to leave your phone out here.” Flug told her, he waited for her tp response, waiting to see what she’d do. “Why?” Ghost asked him glaring a bit at him.

“Because your phone will set off certain things in the lab, I rather not go into details.” Ghost let out a bit of grunt pulling out her phone setting it on a table or bookcase that was within her reach before walking into the lab.

Flug stepped up next to Demencia before going in himself grabbing the phone. “Make sure she doesn’t run off before I get there,” Flug told her as he began to hack into her phone, Demencia started to giggle, rushing into the room, making sure Ghost didn’t realize what he was up to. As he hacked into the phone, he accessed a website that showed a help wanted poster that was last updated about 5 years ago.

Flug didn’t seem too interested but he had a gut feeling about her, soon Flug began to get into her account, but before he could hack into it, he felt the cold stare of Black hat on him, feeling his breath on the back of his neck. “What are you doing Doctor.” Black Hat asked startling the doctor who almost dropped the phone. Flug almost choked on his own breath when he looked over to Black Hat standing behind him.

“Sorry sir I was hacking into her accounts that her assets go into ours.” Flug thought maybe this would calm down his boss down, he could see the grin appearing on Black hat’s face. He was doing something right that seem to pleased him today. “Well, what are you waiting for, finish that and make sure that wench doesn’t try anything.” Black Hat said before he walked away into the shadows.

Flug hurried with his hacking skills, for him it would be a few seconds when for some hackers it would take them maybe 5 minutes, Flug had done this many times before and it didn’t matter what it was for, it was like a child's play for him now. Soon all of Ghost’s money went into their organization account, Flug didn’t see the amount, but if he was right it meant she was paid very well into it. He set the phone down before he entered the lab to see Ghost sitting in his chair watching Demencia playing around with a hatbot. “Demencia! I told you this before! My lab isn’t a playground!” Ghost was sitting in his chair looking very unamused by Demencia’s performance whatever it was she was doing. Flug didn’t question it but that meant another hatbot needed repair.

Flug was shaking a fist at her till Ghost stood up looking at Flug with the dark circles around her eyes. “Tell me, was my phone really going to set things off?” Ghost turned the chair towards him with a lifeless glare at him, even though she couldn’t see it Flug smirked under his paper bag knowing he was right. “You already hacked into my accounts?” Ghost asked waiting for the answer from the scientist.

Flug didn’t need to answer her, his hands behind his back knowing she had figured it out. “You work for Black Hat organization,” Flug said to her seeing the parasite arm turn into small knives ready to shred him into pieces. “I wouldn’t try anything, Mrs. Ghost. “ As if on command hatbots came every corner of the room surrounding her ready to attack her. Ghost grunted seeing the doctor with a more sinister light than when she first saw him.

“If you try to harm any of us here, I’m sure a mercenary like you wouldn’t want to be dissected again?” Flug told her as Demencia sat on top of the destroy bot with her feet tapping against it. Ghost’s parasite arm turned back to normal glaring at Flug, despite knowing this man was well organized and planned his steps carefully. “I will give you this...you’re not much of a weakling as you appear to be.” Ghost commented seeing how Flug figured out what she did before they came to get her with the little information he had on her.

It was times like these Flug loved it when he had control over the situation. All these years dealing with clients and their problems it was no wonder Black Hat would hire someone like Flug to work for him. The hatbots soon started to back off a little going back to their duties they were programmed to do for the day, Flug just smirked until 5.0.5 came into the room smiling as if the bear had no idea what had just occurred.

“Oh 5.0.5, is the room ready for her?” Ghost watched how Flug went from this mad scientist ready to open her up to this sweet father figure to a bear. She let out a snarl at Flug knowing the tour wasn’t over just yet. The tour went for what seemed to be hours now, Ghost wasn’t shown the outside of the manor and there were certain places she was restricted from entering. Flug said there were a few more rooms he would show her before they reached the room she would use in the meantime.

Ghost happened to see a large pair of doors that seemed to be almost like the ones in the main hallway d of the manor. Ghost stopped in front of it until Flug panicked as 5.0.5 mimicked what he doing while Demencia was looking eager to see what was behind the door

“DON’T OPEN THE DOOR!!!!” Flug shouted as he blocked her arm from touching the doorknob. “This is Black Hat’s room, we’re not allowed to enter at any cost!” Ghost could see the sweat coming down from Flug’s neck and hearing Demencia groan a little bit sensing she had never entered the room either. Ghost didn’t question it, but she pulled her arm away sliding her hand into the pocket on the jumpsuit.

“Just make sure you follow all the rules and you won’t find yourself on an examination table,” Flug mentioned to her but also warning her as well. Ghost held the sleeping bag close to her with the bundle of clothes hanging on her shoulder.

Finally, what seemed to be hours later, Flug opened a door to what looks like a bedroom of sorts. There were a bed and a dresser, there wasn’t a closet to hang her clothes which Ghost didn’t seem to mind at all, just meant she had to find a new clothesline to hang in the room but the room didn’t have windows so there was no natural light coming in beside the overhead light on the ceiling. The room almost reminded Ghost of the rooms at the institution they had kept her in except there were no padded walls.

“This will be your room, for now, my room is at the end of the hallway on this floor. I will be checking on you in the morning and giving your daily assignments and chores.” Ghost walked in tossing her sleeping bag and clothes on to the bed looking around the room for a bit. “Can I fix my plane?” She asked not caring about the new life and the work she will be doing for them.

Flug was getting a little annoyed by the attitude she was throwing towards him, but something was telling him that Black Hat would speak with her alone and making sure she knew her place here. “Get some rest, I will be waking you up around 9 in the morning,” Flug said before leaving the room with 5.0.5 behind him as Demencia bounced into the room towards her.

“Maybe you and I can get along, I always need a prank buddy.” She said to Ghost, swaying a little before leaving the room as the door closed behind her. Ghost looked around the room feeling as if she were finally alone for now. She began to set up her sleeping bag on the bed, for now, soon she began to look around the room to see if there were any sort of hidden cameras that might be in the room.

She looked at every corner in the room to be sure, she even checked the furniture as well, even though the room had no windows she had to make sure there wasn’t anything in the room and so far nothing. “I’ll give him this, he doesn’t bug the room.” Ghost said to herself before the hairs on her normal arm stood up. Her parasite arm began to form into a giant claw-like hand when she turned around to see Black Hat standing in the room with her.

“That arm of yours has gotten stronger since you escaped me.” Black Hat grinned as Ghost ran forward ready to attack but he disappeared and reappeared behind her. The parasite began to twist and turn as if it were in pain. Ghost felt the pain a little, grinding her teeth, trying hard to ignore it keeping her eyes on Black Hat. “It’s also a reminder of how you destroyed my life!” Ghost snarled at him kneeling down on the floor now, fighting through the pain.

Black Hat took a step closer, grabbing her face, pulling her closer to him. “If I recall, you were the one who agreed to be my little test subject at the time.” Black Hat smirked at her watching her struggle to use her arm on him. “But I see how well you lasted this long with a little bit of me inside of you.” Ghost used her normal arm grabbing Black Hat’s tie trying to choke him even if it was in vain right now.

“You may still resist, but remember you agreed to work for me.” Ghost spit in his face growling a bit. Black Hat wiped her spit off his face glaring as his visible eye began to glow red. His teeth began to grow sharper than they were before as his hands began to form claws that began to dig into Ghost’s skin. “Know your place from now on.” Black Hat said to her pushing her back as his body returned to its normal form.Ghost watched as Black Hat left the room she sat there on the floor. Ghost touched the parasite arm for a moment, she relieved that moment years ago, she wished she could go back in time and never signed that contact with him.

Tomorrow was going to be hell for her, she needed to plan carefully now, she laid on the cold floor staring up at the ceiling. This was something she had done for a few years now when she was inside of the institution. She imagined the ceiling was the open sky and she was flying her plane with her co-pilot as well. She barely remembers what her friend looked like, the sound of his voice, the smell of his hair

. She barely remembered his name even, or her own name. “Just lay and wait.” She said to herself pulling her bag of clothes to her side, not wanting to sit up she opened the bag pulling out random shirts and pants she had inside, pulling a shirt out and tossed it to the side, the jumpsuit was a little itchy, she hadn’t worn anything like this for years, the last time she wore something like this was when she was testing out a new jet. Ghost remained on the floor waiting until the next day to see how this new job will work out before she figured her plan out slowly and carefully.

---

Villainous (C) Alan Ituriel Ghost/Carol Davison (C) @luluguardainofcreative

#Villainous #villanos #black hat #dr flug #demencia #villainous 505 #alan ituriel #villainous fanfic #villainous oc

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secretagentfan · 6 years ago

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Games and Gangs

Fandom: Banana Fish

Words: 2894

Summary: Kong organizes his thoughts on the Big Shit, the Important Shit, Ash's fancy new digs, and love. They also play a lot of Uno.

Now on Archive!

This fic was written for @VASaquafoxx on twitter for the BananaValentine2019 exchange!

Prologue— America’s Greatest

The word “gang” used to make Kong nervous. It felt like he was a part of something dangerous when he just needed a place that would keep him from getting arrested for no reason or stabbed in his sleep. Then he shot his first man in a turf battle literally no one asked for, cried himself to sleep on Bones’s shoulder, and realized, oh, sounding dangerous was probably the fucking point.

Maybe then this shit would happen less.

The way Kong saw it, the boys joined together because of lacks. A lack of money, of support, of brains, of good old-fashioned values, or parental guidance. They were grand failures of the American Dream, a collection of broken pieces and half-finished sides that shoved together to stay warm at night and, well, kinda fit.

Being a Gang kept them from being Losers. And being the Boss’s gang, kept them alive.

Then Eiji appeared, and they got real good at Uno.

But Kong’s getting ahead of himself. Rewind.

The Main Boys

First, some set up. Roll call:

-Kong. Himself. Observant. Used to get nervous stomachaches at night until he started keeping track of things, like this, in his head. Got organized. Feels better now.

-Bones. All heart. Kong’s best friend. Told Kong once he got tired of sleeping behind a dumpster and that was why he joined up. Kong’s pretty sure that’s not the full deal though because the Boss accidentally clocked Bone’s teeth out and he stuck around, meaning that was still better than what Bones was getting anywhere else, and last time Kong checked, dumpsters didn’t cause you bodily harm.

-Alex. Everyone’s confidant. Keeps the best and most secrets. Has known the Boss since forever. Alex knew how to hold a gun before he was walking properly, so, he was probably one of those “lost causes” shopping moms with carts full of vitamin water always talk about.

-Skipper. Was a kid, bright and happy but self-aware enough to know where he was headed with his grades and his track record. His death really started the Big Shit. Kong misses him. Everyone does.

-The Boss. Ash Lynx.

-Eiji. …More on that later.

The Big Shit

It wasn’t like they were a small gang. They had numbers, lots of ‘em; the Boss gathered people to him like he was the light on a bug zapper. There were too many for Kong to personally keep note of, but he knew Ash and Alex knew everyone. They were a big gang, big news with big allies and bigger enemies.

They had allies in Chinatown, Shorter Wong: a good guy who looked after his boys, couldn’t make lo mein for shit, and usually disappeared when stuff got too shady because he had a sister to stay alive for. He died too.

They also had enemies. Small fry like Arthur: a bitter coward who had probably never rubbed anyone the right way in his entire life and large fry like the Corsican and Chinese mafia.

All of it’s a mess. Kong doesn’t like to think about it. No one does. Not without hurting.

The Important Shit

The thing was, the Boss wasn’t okay. He was a superhuman, sure. He could fire a gun with his eyes shut and destroy an army with a pistol, but he also wasn’t okay.

Everyone who had ever been around when the Boss napped in the other room had heard him scream. Screaming was old news; it was part of the reason no one ever wanted to wake him up. The Boss shouted a lot in his sleep because he was carrying a lot, and that was even before Skip and Shorter died. And sure, hearing the boss scream over the shit he’s seen and done while being sectioned away from everyone else did something to Kong’s heartstrings—

But it wasn’t like Kong or even the gang could do anything about that. The Boss was the Boss. The gang was a gang. Kong could cry about his missing mom as much as he wanted in the middle of the night—but if he heard the Boss do that, on purpose?

Well, it just wouldn’t work. It wouldn’t ever happen.

And now, well, now things were worse. Kong didn’t even know what the Boss was carrying now, but he knew for sure it was a hell of a lot heavier than his mom walking out on him.

The Apartment

There was also the Boss’s weird new apartment in downtown Manhattan— everyone was talking about it, even Alex who usually told everyone to keep involved in their own business. Kong had no idea where the Boss got the money for the place, but he didn’t ask questions. Bones did, and the Boss just looked at him, and that was the end of that particular conversation.

Then Eiji had come out of the bathroom and the Boss was telling them they were gonna be his bodyguards sometimes because he wasn’t moving to the apartment alone apparently.

“Sure thing boss,” Kong managed to squeak out. He elbowed Bones so his mouth shut properly.

Eiji

The first thing Kong noticed about Eiji was the first thing everyone noticed about Eiji—he didn’t belong here.

It wasn’t for a lack of balls. Eiji had balls. Huge balls. Startling balls. He stuck around after Skip died in front of him and talked to the boss like it was no big deal— acted like they were friends, got him out of bed, and made the gang dinner like the weird patriarch none of them ever had.

Eiji’s balls were above reproach.

The big problem, Kong figured, was that Eiji wasn’t missing anything. There was no lack. He seemed to have money, a home—he definitely had this reporter guy watching his every step with parental fondness, which was more than any of the gang had.

Eiji didn’t need a gang, but the Boss let him in anyway. He bought him an apartment.

It felt weird, almost sacrilegious to think something so clearly different from the Boss’s intentions, but who struck around with would-be losers in danger that didn’t need to? Eiji wouldn’t last.

Why was the Boss keeping him around?

The Important Shit (part 2)

Problem was, the Boss was looking good, and it wasn’t just because of the pricey new duds he was sporting. Bones was sure to whisper to Kong that the Boss’s usual “don’t talk to me” forehead crease had mysteriously vanished, and as a result he almost looked approachable. He still wasn’t.

The cause for the Boss’s odd glowing comfort was a mystery until Kong finished a late-night discussion—all their discussions now considering the whole “laying low from the mafia” thing—and was invited by a not-happy-to-be-awoken Eiji to crash on their expensive-ass couch.

Never one to turn down a couch, especially one big enough to fit him, Kong took him up on the deal.

Eiji puttered on back to the bedroom, leaving the door open wide for the Boss to follow behind him. Kong recognized the sounds of Eiji climbing in bed, both nervous and amused by how loud he was just doing regular things, when he noticed the Boss lingering in the doorway.

Kong could only see him in profile, but he wore an expression Kong had never seen before on his face. The only comparable expression he had seen was the one Skipper would make while looking through the window of a 5th Avenue bakery during the winter. Longing: pure and unabashed.

It hit Kong all at once. This wasn’t the boss. This was Ash, and Ash looked…fragile.

Ash shut the door behind him. Kong swallowed, suddenly very, very afraid for the gang.

The Facts:

-The Boss was keeping Eiji cooped up in the apartment the majority of the day like a vampire.

-Eiji wasn’t happy. He couldn’t be, regardless of his smiles and general aura of monk-like calm.

-It was only a matter of time before Eiji would get tired, realize the situation was shit and ollie out.

-The Ash that Kong saw that night wouldn’t be able to handle that, and the gang needed him. Everyone did, at this point.

-Unless they found a way to make Eiji happy, the gang would be sunk.

-The only people who were interested in being at home all the time were housewives and children.

-Housewives and children loved board games.

-Kong had a plan.

-Bones would help.

And thus began…

Game Night

They tried Mahjong first. They borrowed the tiles from Sing, wanting Eiji to feel more at home, but then Eiji explained that Mahjong was definitely Chinese in origin, not Japanese. He didn’t know how to play. Kong then tried to explain, but then realized he didn’t know how to play either. Bones took over and made up several rules and they all tried to play with those but they kept contradicting themselves and—Mahjong was out.

Bones brought cards but was missing half of them and those that were present smelled like ass, so they wound up making him throw them out in the dumpster outside the building.

In what was probably a last effort to save the night, Eiji fished out an old egg carton and dried beans, and tried to get Bones and Kong to play mancala. It was actually pretty fun until they realized that it was two players only and they had been excluding Eiji the whole time. Not the point! Eiji assured them he didn’t mind and that he was having fun watching them play—but Bones finally exploded.

“Just admit when you’re not having fun, Eiji!”

He was right: it had been a rotten night, but the way Eiji blinked and stared at him would make it seem the opposite.

After a moment, Eiji declared, almost apologetically: “I do not think I am having fun now.”

The silence following Eiji’s quiet comment was fucking mountainous. Kong started picking up the dried beans that had been knocked over during mancala and Bones and Eiji joined in, if only to be unified in the same activity again.

Game night was a dismal failure.

The Fallout

Bones and Kong were pretty sure their days were numbered, but the next time they saw the Boss he stopped in the middle of his “watch your backs” speech to tell them both: “Eiji says thanks for the other night. He had a good time”.

Neither Bones or Kong made any move to correct him.

Uno

It was a trade from one of the younger members. Kong hadn’t said three words to the guy before—he had a stealing problem and guys like that rarely stuck around—but he sat outside the hideout with his little store: ready to peddle his stolen goods for cigarettes like they were in jail or something.

The game was still in the packaging so it definitely had all the pieces; the red box was pristine, shiny even.

Kong thought of Eiji and the Boss. He said fuck it.

Game Night (Part 2)

The Boss was apparently set for a late night at the library, and that was all the invite they needed from Eiji to come and show their newly formed skills.

They wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. They came prepared: double-checked all the cards to make sure they were there and actually read the instructions— even practiced on Alex on how to explain them nice and slow to Eiji, in a way that wouldn’t confuse him. They were pretty good at it now. Alex told them that when they each explained individually, he understood about half of the game, so as a team they’d be perfect.

“Uno! I have played this before.”

Eiji beamed when he saw the box. Kong exhaled. Well that was one less thing.

They set up the game, sitting on pillows on the floor, instead of the couch, which was weird, but oddly home-y. As home-y as the Boss’s apartment got anyway.

Eiji was merciless. Their first round was unfortunate, with Kong and Eiji both teaming up against Bones, skipping his turn as often as possible. Kong felt bad after Bones got skipped the third time in a row, and started playing sympathetically—just in time for Eiji to turn on him. Balls.

It was less of a game and more a public execution, which was embarrassing, considering all the practice Kong and Bones did with Alex, but Eiji was smiling holding out his cardless hands like it really mattered. Kong felt oddly…rewarded.

“Another round?” Eiji asked. Bones groaned, but Kong had already started dealing the cards.

It wasn’t long before they got comfortable enough to talk.

“You got family, Eiji?” Kong found himself asking while Bones was staring hard at the instructions, making sure Eiji wasn’t making up rules to win.

“Yeah. I have a Mom and Dad, and a little sister in Japan.”

“Huh,” Kong replied, no richer in answers.

Bones huffed, folding the instructions up and regretfully drawing two cards. It was Kong’s turn now.

“What about you?” Eiji asked.

He felt Bones tense up next to him, clearly not wanting this question to pass to him as well. Kong just shrugged, laid down a red card. Bones shot him a look before answering:

“None of us really do.”

“Oh.” Eiji looked at them both for a moment. “You have each other though. That is family.”

Bones blinked, once, twice, and then pretended to look real hard at his cards. Kong smiled a little, trying to play it cool over the weird bit of pride dancing in his gut.

“Guess so.”

They played into the night. Eiji eventually got sloppy, letting Kong steal a few rounds. It was fun. Kong couldn’t remember the last time he had fun like this, and Kong had never been very good at forgetting. Even Bones was enjoying himself, now that he’d stop trying to win and was now focusing on making everyone else lose, like a toothless vengeful dragon.

Kong felt like a kid again, even though he was pretty sure he never was one.

Then the Boss walked in, and with him, the rest of the world. Kong stood up automatically, Bones dropped a few cards. Eiji stayed sitting.

He was leaning against the door, and at first Kong thought he was injured, but then he yawned, and oh, that was so much worse.

“Tired, Ash?” Eiji asked, like he wasn’t interacting with a half-asleep potentially lethal criminal.

“Mngh.”

Ash stumbled past them, Kong’s eyes following him all the way to the bedroom. He stopped in front of the open door. His hands fumbled at his coat as he half-heartedly chucked it on the floor.

“Hey!” Eiji stood, picking up the coat. The Boss looked at him a second. Rubbed his neck when Eiji held it out to him, and to Kong’s utter bafflement, hung it on the back of a chair.

“What are you doing?” the Boss asked, eyes scanning the room, finally noticing Kong and Bones. Bones waved. Kong nodded.

“Playing Uno! Would you like to join us?”

Ash stared blankly at them, or rather somewhere between Kong’s left pec and chest. “I’ll pass.”

Kong nodded. Duh. Of course he wasn’t—

“Maybe next time.”

His voice was soft. Ash again. Eiji smiled, giving him a small push into the bedroom.

“Get some rest. It looks like you need it!”

Ash waved his hand, and shut the bedroom door behind him.

Eiji’s smiled faded, eyes on the door. Kong had seen this expression before. It was different from Ash’s—but it came from the same place. Eiji looked back at them, shaking his head quickly.

“Sorry, it is my turn, right?”

Getting Organized

Thoughts usually arrived in fragments and connected pieces that layered together disjointedly like a photograph developing; like a gang.

The sights of Eiji and Ash looking at the same shut bedroom door, and even of Bones surrounded by a forgotten game of Uno made Kong’s heart want to reach out and fill the spaces and holes in all of them. He wondered if he was looking at everything all wrong. Wondered if his view of the gang being made up of lacks was closeminded: dark.

Kong thought about love, for the first time since he shot that man—no, kid and cried himself to sleep.

This was why Ash wanted Eiji in his house even though he could barely go outside. This was why Eiji could bear living like a vampire, away from everyone else, in a country he didn’t know. This was why Alex listened to Bones and Kong explain how to play Uno thirty-four consecutive times in a row. This was why Kong saved and bought Skip a cinnamon roll from that Bakery on 5th Avenue. This was why Skip died, and Shorter just had to come home even though he couldn’t. This was why Eiji was a member of the gang—no—this is why all of them were.

Love.

The thought made Kong’s face feel warm, his heart beat faster, but it felt right. He’d never say it out loud, of course. But he’d keep it, his secret, his truth, tight in his chest.

Maybe that’s what being a gang, really was. Or was supposed to be, anyway.

Regardless, they were damn lucky to have found each other.

#banana fish #my fic #bananavalentine2019 #I think I'll just start posting my fics to this blog #why not

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