#honestly i didn’t have enough brain power to think of something other than my default ghost girlfriend scenario

[badlydrawnmanic]

baldur’s gate 3 has once again taken over my life and i low key wanna draw the playable characters as mobians because i have crossover / furry brain disease + edits

to no one’s surprise astarion is a bat because, well. vampires, and his secret isn’t exactly hard to figure out before the reveal cutscene. he himself may not be associated with bats but you get it

gale is kinda tough for me to pin down because he’s both plain but not at all at the same time. his personality doesn’t fit cat despite his light association with them through tara, but hedgehog is seemingly considered a default even to the sonic series itself much like human is in dnd, so that might work. his hair is also kinda makes me think of a lion and that has a bit more character to it

karlach is undoubtedly my favorite. outside of fire one of her bigger unique design bits is her broken horn which i’d wanna keep fairly the same. sheep would fit the curled shape but she doesn’t really have a soft vibe that comes along with sheep. maybe some sort of cow-like animal. big and powerful. friend suggested she be a boar instead of minsc which i could roll with. confused for a hellsboar by wyll

lae’zel is supposed to be markedly different from the other characters, so i’m thinking either some kind of reptile / amphibian or something entirely alien in that it’s a beast from the dnd universe. while they aren’t associated with the githyanki there’s gremishka in the creche and that might be just interesting enough to work. big ears. friend also suggested a skink specifically and people seem to think she's very frog even if i don't see it lol

shadowheart is also relatively normal. was thinking wolf for a time but honestly she had cat vibes + that would sort of play into her and lae’zel being kinda similar despite being from fundamentally different places / backgrounds. friend suggested a squirrel? will consider

wyll feels like he’d be some kind of dog given the general good boy-ness of him, loyalty, etc, plus it kinda plays into how mizora talks about him. naturally his “you didn’t kill karlach” form would be a hellhound. friend mentioned fox but i think dog is more fitting

halsin is a bear and there is nothing difficult about this whatsoever

i haven’t done an evil run yet where i recruit minthara but i know she’s a lolth sworn drow and they’re associated with spiders and that would be kinda cool. friend suggested wolf for her also

minsc would probably also be a dog. even though repeats are a bit lame, he was a protagonist in another group of characters from another baldur’s gate so it’s fine. one of those stupidly huge breeds that look more like lions than dogs. if not a dog than maybe a boar. friend suggested a ferret but i think he needs beef to him. wolverine maybe?

jaheira also being from the other baldur’s gate game could probably be a repeat too. slightly cranky old cat but she loves you in her own way. would also contrast with minsc. if not a cat then i could see her as a deer i think. i somehow forgot that the game's ai defaults her wildshape to a panther when you're battling alongside her in moonrise towers so panther it is

[lunar-art]

one panel comic for comic claaaaass!

[tiaragqueen]

Aegis

✂ Pairing: Yandere! Adult! Shouto Todoroki x Reader

✂ Word Count: 1,2k+

✂ Trigger Warnings: Manipulation, possessiveness, mention of kidnapping

[Edited]

***

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“Your job's a joke, you're broke, your love life's D.O.A. It's like you're always stuck in second gear. When it hasn't been your day, your week, your month, or even your year, but I'll be there for you.” - I’ll Be There For You [The Rembrandts]

It was just a joke, honestly.

During the peaceful silence with Shōto, who liked to visit your apartment from time to time, you’d playfully wished someone would just ‘kidnap you already’. You didn’t really think about the implication of your desire since you tended to speak nonsense when stressed out, anyway. All you wished for was a break from your growing paperwork, someone to pamper you and ease the pressure like a lover would. You might not necessarily yearn for a relationship, but the idea of someone being utterly devoted to you was nice.

And that was what Shōto thought, too. But his way of showing it was… startling, to say the least.

The first thing you saw after you opened your eyes was a plain white ceiling with a pendant light, its bulb dark. Next, you felt the fluffiness pressed against your head. A pillow, you concluded as you groped the said thing, but it was strangely wider than your old one, and comfier too. Then, you noticed how the room had more space and there was a LED TV in front of the queen size bed you were occupying. All of it just screamed ‘wealth’ throughout, and you didn’t know whether you should scream for help or relish the luxury. Perhaps, you could even pretend you owned every belonging despite your poor finance. A little imagination never hurt anyone, no?

A door to your left suddenly opened, snapping you back to reality. Shōto sauntered inside wearing nothing but a towel to cover his lower part, bicolored hair tousled. Your face blanched as you gawked at him, the realization that you’d been sleeping on his room – on his freaking bed – finally settled in. Although you knew that you were just jumping to conclusions, who else was richer anyway? Who else was born from a famous and wealthy family?

“S-Shōto, what–? What am I doing here? Why am I here?! Did I – oh God!” You screeched and pulled your hair in frustration. “I didn’t sleep with you, did I?! Tell me we didn’t. Please!”

He stopped searching for his clothes and turned to face you, wondering the reason why you seemed alarmed around him. Why did it matter if you both slept together? Didn’t you say you loved him? “Technically, yes–”

“What?!”

“But we didn’t have sex.” he continued before you could break down, and the effect of that sentence was powerful enough to elicit an audible sigh of relief from you. Slumping on the white mattress, you clutched your chest to regulate the violent heartbeats.

Cocking his head, Shōto drawled. “We can try if you want.”

“No!” you shouted quickly, hiding your blooming visage with both hands. For as long as you could remember, Shōto never once referred sex, not even a joke. He always looked impassive whenever those raunchy scenes appeared on the TV, or make out. Then again, it was his default face, anyway. Nevertheless, you liked and respected his cute obliviousness and ability to handle erotic things without constantly insinuating them like other males.

However, you tended to forget that he was an adult now, not the awkward teenager you’d first met in high school.

“Why not? We’re lovers, after all.”

You slowly raised your head and blinked dumbly. “What…?”

“Isn’t that why you prayed for someone to kidnap you? So they could take care of you?” he inquired innocently. “I admit, I’m still rather dense to people’s feelings, but your wish has opened my eyes to see beyond the obvious. I felt guilty for being ignorant of your sufferings, so I made it up by moving you to my house. Or, should I say, our house.”

You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but no words managed to leave. On one hand, you were glad that you didn’t have to live in your horrible apartment anymore. But, on the other hand, this was too sudden. Living with your best friend? Wait, no, lover. Did he assume that title after you made your silly wish? But it was just a joke, and besides, you never mentioned dating anyway.

“If something isn’t up to your liking, tell me and we can change it immediately. I want you to be more comfortable here.” Shōto smiled guilelessly, much to your disbelief.

“Shōto, no…” His tender mien morphed into confusion when you shook your head. “I didn’t… I didn’t think about anything when I said that, okay? It was just… it was just bullshit on my part because I was stressed out and–”

“Exactly.” Shōto cut you off and clasped your hands, a gleam of affection flecked his bicolored eyes. “I don’t want you to become more stressed out than necessary, so I decided to remove you from such an environment. After all, as my girlfriend, you deserve only the best in life.”

His reason didn’t make sense to you, but the sincerity behind it was enough to hinder you from speaking once again.

“B-but… what about my job? I need money to live, too.” you finally whispered after a moment of doubtful silence.

Sighing, Shōto patted your crown and smiled. “There’s no need for you to worry about that anymore. I’ve already dealt with it.”

“And what exactly do you mean by ‘dealt with it’?”

“I told your boss you quit.”

Time seemed to slow as your brain processed another bombshell he dropped on you in less than an hour. Once it sunk in, it felt as if the only piece of freedom you had now after moving to his house finally slipped through your fingers and shattered like glass. It wasn’t your favorite job in the world, but the result – your hard work and payment, regardless of how small it was – brought a sense of security and gratification. You hated having to rely on someone financially, because what if they descend to poverty tomorrow?

“You… you can’t do that! My job might be shitty, but it’s everything to me, just like heroism to you!”

“If you hated your job, then why did you devote so much time to it? I thought people would rather avoid such work, or do it poorly.”

“Y-yeah, well, that’s because…” you stammered, trying to elude his piercing gaze. “That’s because for some people… love the feelings it gives. You know, like, personal satisfaction of being paid after working so hard.”

“But your salary sometimes isn’t enough to cover you daily, is it? Especially the rent that seems to rise every month.”

“I-I know that already!” you huffed, scowling. “It’s just… I’m not ready, Shōto. It’s all too sudden for me to comprehend.”

“Well, I’m here, aren’t I?” he murmured, squeezing your shoulders reassuringly. “If it’s money you’re concerned about, rest assured, I’ll bring it to you every day. I may even save some if it’ll be any consolation to you. Your boss clearly didn’t appreciate your hard work, because if he did, he would’ve promoted you or gave you rewards. But he didn’t, and you were still stuck in the same position as years ago.”

Shōto leaned forward and kissed your forehead. “Don’t worry too much, okay? Just enjoy your new life now. All I’m asking is your obedience, that’s all. If you listen to my words, then everything will be okay.”

You stared at him for a moment before sighing in defeat, acknowledging the futility of arguing with him any further. There was something about him that made his logic sounded… infallible, even if you couldn’t fathom it.

Suppressing the triumph that twitched the corner of his lips, Shōto tousled your hair and stood up.

“Now, go take a shower. There’s a place I want us to visit today.”

[warsmith-38]

How I would do RWBY Pt. 0

Disclaimer: It is easier to improve what already exist than it is to create something new. Boy howdy do I know that. That being said, I believe that RWBY has more than its fair share of flaws and this is how I would do it differently if I was behind the reigns. This is just a collection of my opinions and ideas which in the end will probably amount to nothing. I felt the need to do this because my brain just decided ‘nah motherfucker, you ain’t thinking of anything else from now on’ and this is the end result for nothing else would satisfy my rage.

I wouldn’t quite call this a complete re-haul, but more rather a rework with some of my own brand of polish. It’s not a compete rebuild from the ground up in a different world with different concepts and themes, but how I would go about a second go around with the series from the base that is already there. If a detail is missing from my musings then assume it is either unchanged or removed, depending on context.

If some of my complaints were addressed after I stopped watching, I honestly don’t much care. If it takes longer than 4 seasons to fix what I view as fundamental problems, then it’s far too little too late for me. I paid scant attention to the series post my stopping point and liked little to none of what I saw.

Please do not take this as a specific attack on anything other than the writing of the show itself. This is not directed or targeted against anyone, regardless of position or feelings on the topic at hand. If you ignore what I just said and decide to take this as an insult, then I say that you need to be more self-secure in your tastes and interests.

Things I would remove + reason why

Silver eyed warriors as a concept- it’s more or less the same concept as dojutsu from Naruto. It’s the fucking sharingan (rubygan). It’s not quite chosen one level, but crap like this is the blight of good protagonists. It’s fucking eugenics that makes you awesome not your own skills or training but on your bloodline. No need for personal development or life-changing hardship when you have a built in power that can be cultivated like a fucking bumper crop.

Maidens- Wasn’t intended originally and only made the overall story more cluttered with power creep and plot device. It’s a similar problem as above. No need for training or anything if people can just kill the person who has the power currently and take if from them. Which, at that point, why do you want that power if you’re already strong enough to kill and take it from the person who has it to begin with? It’s something someone just shouted out and they rolled with it because it sounded cool in the moment.

The Relics- McGuffin dragonballs that serve as plot device and little else. A story can be told without needing to monotonously race for Excalibur or the holy grail. Considering the Maidens, I doubt that the relics were intended in the first place and as such if you can’t tell a story without throwing something in after a few seasons because you realized that you didn’t have a plot, then you’re not that good at telling stories.

Oscar- The show didn’t need more main protagonists when what was already there wasn’t being given enough characterization to begin with. For that matter-

Quite a few characters- The cast is cluttered and convoluted enough as is with seemingly important characters getting the shaft in favor of yet another new character that would barely do anything. Time and effort seems to be put into one-off schmucks that would be better served making the story not need poochie the dog, let alone several. Character integration is not ‘create a character to do one thing and then pretend they don’t exist’. There’s already plenty of characters than can be used wherever.

The overt shipping bait, especially if it’s just going to be taken up or abandoned on a whim- I don’t mean relationship building, I mean the obvious baiting of a relationship that, in the end, might not even happen. All it does is dumb down characters and character arcs, draw out pointless scenes, and make the fans have conniptions one way or another. People are pissed off whenever things don’t go their way with shipping so the only winning move with these people is not to play their game. Looking at you Klance and Zutara. Either don’t do anything or have a fucking plan and stick to it and not make complete swerves when fans get uppity. If it genuinely matters to you, then pretend whatever ship happens at whatever point, I don’t care.

Changes to the world that I think would go over better-

Everyone has a level of aura with a naturally high level generally meaning that they might be able to unlock a semblance. A semblance is unlocked through some sort of specific event, typically a stressful one IE: Yang and Ruby are caught in the woods by grimm and Yang gets frustrated and scared at not being able to defend her sister before getting angry and her rage mode semblance unlocking. Not everyone who unlocks a semblance goes into combat schools but it is a requirement for acceptance into most of them. Having the potential to unlock a semblance seems entirely random but has a higher chance with genetics.

There are two types of semblances: 1 is hereditary like the Schnee glyphs, changing only slightly, if at all, through the generations. 2 is a random personal power like Yang having her rage mode as compared to Raven’s portals. Whichever you get tends to be random with the occasional exception depending on genetics and the specific semblance.

Every 1 in assumedly 10 people who have semblances have the potential to have two semblances, often times, but not necessarily, being one hereditary and one random. The process of unlocking the second semblance involves immense emotional distress and in some cases might not even happen for the individual who has the potential, period, thus skewing data. This gives an enhanced type power but isn’t protagonist exclusive. It shows a higher than average power capacity, but isn’t a gamebreaker to the same level as a fucking kekkei genkai or getting the powers of a fucking demigod. A good amount of characters would only have one semblance and be considerable badasses despite it and even be able to beat a couple of the few that have two.

Establish Menagerie as the official Fifth Kingdom, the newest of the great kingdoms. Maybe not the singularly strongest or most influential, but make it so Menagerie and its people, the faunus, have a considerable role in the world’s affairs, if even from an isolationist standpoint. Don’t have them as even a semi thriving entity that isn’t a kingdom because that only begs the question as to why the kingdoms are so important to begin with then.

Make the White Fang a faunus supremacist group that has very little support, if any, from the faunus people as a whole. Faunus right issues are history for the vast majority of the world and the White Fang as a whole is only using the problems in Atlas with the SDC as a means of trying to gain power. There are actual faunus rights groups trying to make things better for their race in Atlas and other marginalized areas but the White Fang dislikes them on the grounds that they go against their goal and it makes them look even worse.

Fucking pronounce names correctly, I mean, Christ. Weiss, the word, is pronounced like ‘Vice’. It’s an actual fucking word. It’s the German word for white. It’s like saying tor-till-uh not tor-tee-ah. Blake is Bella-doe-nah not Bella-dawn-uh. Shit like that. No you don’t need to put on a heavy accent to say these words but pronouncing things so inaccurately just makes you look like an ignorant rube (no, that was not a pun). I don’t fucking care what your reasons are. Why use these words in the first place if you’re not even going to try to say them right?

Ozpin is order to Salem’s chaos. Ancient demigods of both archetypes vying for power across the ages and the innocent peoples of the world be damned in the crossfire. Neither are entirely good nor evil but both are not exactly helpful to the free peoples on the world and the continued livelihood thereof. Their progenitor god created them to try and guide humanity in a balanced way. That seemed to work at first, but then failed like a bad marriage and they waged war ever since like a bad divorce. The grimm are a creation of Salem’s to test humanity and make then stronger through conflict. Ozpin ranges from the lawman to the fascist fairly duplicitously. The two can only be permanently killed by each other but neither wants to get too close to the other because of that exact same reason. If killed by other means, they will resurrect after a fashion no worse for wear.

Overt changes to (and complaints about) Ruby Rose- It is a crime that the titular character has so little actual character beyond just being ‘Hyperactive Anime Protagonist #235’. Most of her (few) character traits are tell not show, and of course she’s got the fucking rubygan bloodline ability crap. She has next to nothing that isn’t allotted by default to most anime protags on the grounds of the stereotype. For the main character to have less character than any of the members of the fucking B-team is a travesty.

1. Give her a clear rebellious streak, a distinct problem with authority, and a headstrong attitude. Daddy doesn’t want her to be in danger, so she decides to become a huntress. She’s told to stay put, so she hunts down Roman. She’s told that she needs to stay home and recover, so she sets out on her own not thinking about the exact consequences. Make her the impetus for the team’s involvement with the problems of the world in the early seasons. Make her a driving part of the plot, not just being along for the ride or because someone else said so.

2. Give her blood knight tendencies. Make her VERY willing to get into a fight with the bad guys, not just fights in general, but fights against bad guys. Nothing over the top, but enough that she has a scene or three where she says “Shut up bad guy, skip to the part where we get to kick the crap out of you,” or something of that nature. Hyper combative characters are fun and ethical.

3. Give her more traits as a mechanic and weapon nerd. Include scenes of her fixing everyone’s weapons for fun or being able to analyze an opponent’s fighting style based on the type, design, and/or wear & tear of their weapon, make her a polyglot of weapons that can be at least proficient in using just about any weapon. Come to think of it…

4. Anything that could give her actual character traits. They don’t even have to be all that major traits, just give her enough so that we actually have a character with more definition than printer paper. She’s the main character, the titular character at that. This isn’t a video game with a blank-slate protagonist. If the main character isn’t even really a character, like, at all, then what’s the fucking point?

5. Convert silver eyes power into a second semblance for white fire vision that kills grimm like nothing else. Gotten as a hereditary semblance from Summer. Which is also why Summer was specifically targeted by Salem on the grounds that it makes her just a little too dangerous for her long-term plans. This makes it so she isn’t just the fucking chosen one, but still has a clear definitive reason to be involved against the big bad because, y’know, dead mom. Yes, this kinda goes into the whole ‘bloodline is what determines importance’ thing I wanted to be rid of, but it’s only a chance two generations instead of a massive lineage of nonsense and keeps more of the onus of involvement on Ruby herself.

6. Give her a very clear motivation that’s deeper than surface level. ‘Oh, I want to do the right thing’ is a flimsy as balls motivation especially compared to the rest of her team that has that AND an actual reason for thinking that way. Why does she want to be the good guy? What happened in her life that makes her this motivated to doing the right thing? Yang has her desire to find her mother (which, come to think of it, doesn’t necessitate being a good guy), Blake has wanting to make up for being a terrorist, Weiss has her desire to step out from under the shadow of her family’s reputation, even fucking Jaune, the b-team protagonist, who wants to live up to his family reputation, has a proper motivation to be involved in the story. WHY is Ruby involved beyond ‘I’m the main character’ level reasoning? As much as admitting it makes me wish to commit Sudoku, even SAO has better main character motivations. Good god, I need hooch after typing that.

Overt changes to (and complaints about) Yang Xiao-Long- Her arc was mostly fine, barring some of the pacing. Raven being a maiden undercut the message of ‘screw that deadbeat bitch, go to your real family’ by making her important to the overall world state and confirming a measure of later relevance but that’s more a flaw with Raven than Yang.

1. Keep her motivation about getting strong enough to find her mother but add in the clear desire to kick her ass for leaving her and Tai. Of course it’s more about just getting the answers to her questions, but the ass-kicking should also be a major component.

2. Amp up the rivalry between her and Mercury. Mercury was designed as an opposite to Yang, I mean for fuck’s sake, look at him. Consider their respective backstories too; both raised in a single father home yet one was supported and loved (if a little neglected) while the other was horrifyingly maimed and abused. Punch vs kick. It works.

3. Make her more protective of her little sister, explicitly going along with her personal crusade to keep her safe (safer, rather). If she’s supposed to be the good older sister, maybe just maybe, something more than lip-service to that idea should be done. Hell, maybe she can be overprotective like their father, or even the exact opposite, not really giving a shit and then learning to give one. That might lead to a little tension and growth between the two of them.

4. Make her semblance consistent. Is she supposed to have super saiyan rage mode or is it energy buildup and dispersal? Is it supposed to be both? Just make it rage mode, for the sake of fuck, and don’t flip-flop. Speaking of…

5. Give her anger issues. Flesh out her being the kind of gal that would start a fight in a nightclub when she doesn’t get what she needed with little justification. This would stem from abandonment issues from Raven, Summer (inadvertently), and Tai and her general thrill seeking personality. This could lead to tensions and dramas until she overcomes it and learns to use her aggressive feelings and not let them use her.

Overt changes to (and complaints about) Blake Belladonna- Shitty-kitty is shitty, here’s why.

1. Do something with the hypocrisy of being, more or less, princess of Menagerie, a world power albeit a minor one, and joining a band of terrorists that do more harm than good for the people they claim to represent. It’s like a trust-fund baby joining some charity organization in Africa for a few weeks, doing jack-shit to help, joining some jihadists, and then acting like she’s Mahatma Gandhi.

2. Make her arc less about running away and fighting Adam, more about realizing that running is for assholes and try to find her team to at least apologize for cutting and running like she did. Doing that and stopping Adam are not mutually exclusive. The friend thing should be the priority. As it stands she is almost rewarded for abandoning her team just to focus on her own problems.

3. Make her arc involve going from ‘There’s no such thing as pure evil’ to ‘Okay maybe some people are just too evil to work with’. Some people are too far gone and, despite still having good traits, will only ever continue to do evil things and don’t deserve the benefit of the doubt. Not everyone has some sort of good motive beneath the surface and, even then, does that matter when the only action they do is objectively evil? Still, y’know, save who you can, like Ilia.

4. Have Belladonna not actually be her last name. If she’s the daughter of a the chief of Menagerie, the closest thing the faunus have to a unified racial leader, then how the unholy shit does nobody recognize her name? She is, again, princess of Menagerie, yet nobody recognizes the name in a grander context. Have ‘Belladonna’ be a cover name so she can hide her identity better so that she’s using what should be a very recognizable real name in a tournament that is broadcasted worldwide. Her real family name could be “Nightshade” or some shit like that.

5. If she’s supposed to be ‘The quiet one’ maybe actually have her be quiet and not make big speeches every season or have loud arguments with her team. Just a fucking thought. If she’s still supposed to do that, then make her ‘the opinionated one’ or ‘the kind of mean one’ or even ‘the one who doesn’t shut up’. Blake, as seen, or rather heard, is not the quiet one.

6. Have her actually fucking interact with Ruby. Maybe they have a two-person book club. Maybe Blake teaches Ruby to meditate or something. Anything, anything at all would be fine, anything more than nothing at all. Blake’s whole interaction with the team shouldn’t just be through Yang and cursory scenes with Weiss.

Overt changes to (and complaints about) Weiss Schnee- You can’t solve racism with like two scenes.

1. Make the racism thing a much more gradual decay rather than more or less disappearing after a single conversation. Hell, make jokes about it, ‘oh, no, one of my best friends is a faunus,’ stuff. It’s hard to unlearn an upbringing of hate, but she’s trying type stuff.

2. Involve her at least a little with the White Fang plot. It only makes sense that the heiress of the company that still more or less has slave labor is at least semi-involved with the plotline involving terrorists that want that company destroyed. Make her subject to assassination attempts at a young age, or even have her been kidnaped at a young age and held hostage, getting her scar in the process.

3. As evident by some of the intros, her rival was supposed to be Emerald. This could be serviceable, at the very least. The street rat pickpocket that had to learn life lessons the hard way and was taken in by the baddies VS. the rich heiress born with a silver spoon but raised by a dickhead. There’s potential there and it is a crime that it is not explored in the slightest. Even Yang and Mercury had a minor fight.

4. Like Yang, make her semblance consistent. Is it supposed to be summoning or physics altering magic symbols? These are two completely different powers, it’s not like super speed also giving super reflexes or whatever. Just make it one or the other, don’t bullshit us on these things. Or, hell, make it a second semblance she gets during the course of story.

5. Emphasize her loneliness. Make the main onus of her personal arc be about how she goes from this prickly, spoiled, opinionated, brat to a warm and caring friend who only wants the best for everyone. Yes, this might be the main intention in canon, but I feel it could have used a little more refining.

Overt changes to (and complaints about) Cinder Fall- If she’s supposed to be Ruby’s chief rival and foil then she needs a lot of work to even be close. She shouldn’t be nothing but the rival, but at that same time she should have that be a considerable part of her characterization and role in the series. I feel the best way to do it is to have their similarities highlight their differences in both character and design. Basically, make her the Vergil to Ruby’s Dante.

1. Make her Ruby’s age. Being the same age as Ruby while initially outclassing her, and even veteran hunters, provides risk and contrast between the two. Throw in an evil sadistic streak compared to Ruby’s happy-go-lucky personality to further the contrast and you’ve got a good little yin-yang thing for them. It also shows just how bad someone can turn out if raised to be a killing machine.

2. Keep her using the bow/twin swords as a comparably simple weapon in contrast to Ruby’s, even in universe, overcomplicated Scythe/Sniper rifle. Both weapons are long range marksmen’s weapons as well as vicious close combat weapons but are still very different in essence. Also make sure she keeps the red with black and gold color scheme is contrast with Ruby’s Black with red and silver. Even minor visual cues can work to the rival schema.

3. Make her one of the people who have two semblances. Pyromancy (pyrokinesis? Fire bending, she has fire bending) and dilated perception (bullet time) so that Ruby’s super speed and the dilated perception cancel each other out, adding a little extra tension to the fights now that both parties’ signature abilities are moot points against each other.

4. Make her competent. She kills Ozpin and Pyrrha and then she either fails or draws every fucking fight she has afterwards baring nameless jobbers here and there. Even before that, she needed help to take down Amber and even manages to fuck that up. The more failures she has and the less intimidating she is. Too much of that and she’s just a jobber that makes you wonder why she was ever seen as intimidating in the first place. When that happens then Ruby beating her is just the status quo and not a triumph of any sort.

5. Make her Ruby’s long lost fraternal twin sister. Incredibly cliché, I admit, but siblings make the best rivals, especially twins. Once again, it’s all about adding the similarities and the contrasts. In this case it creates the ‘there but for the grace of god go I’ idea with the two of them. Ruby seeing it as how evil she could have turned out and Cinder seeing it as how weak she could have been (Eventually becoming how good she could have had it because I’m a sucker for redemption arcs) Who said that?

Overt changes to (and complaints about) Team JNPR- JNPR was fine-ish but the over focus on Jaune and the underutilization of Ren + Nora early on are both issues. B-team should not get jack shit before the A-team gets the lions share.

1. Downplay Jaune’s screen time. I doubt this is a particularly controversial statement. Jaune is not the titular character. This is (technically) a shoujo not a shounen. It’s supposed to be about the girls more than the guys. It kind of undercuts that idea when the guy (the side guy at that) gets the lion’s share of characterization, attention, and growth before the girl (the main girl) does.

2. Make Ren and Nora actual characters earlier on. Comic relief is all well and good, but either extend that to the whole team or make these two characters more than just comic relief in the early parts of the story. Make them, y’know, actual characters. They ain’t gotta be all that important, but they do have to be actual characters.

3. Make Pyrrha’s deathflags less blindingly obvious. We all knew Pyrrha was going to get clipped. The self-sacrificing type, all the musical and visual cues throughout, being based on Achilles, and ‘oh she just confessed to the boy she likes’. Homegirl was waving deathflags like an insecure redneck with the confederate flag. When you foreshadow obvious things that much it’s not a surprise to the audience when it happens and the reaction of the in universe characters seems overdone. If it’s not supposed to be a surprise then, whatever, but that’s clearly not the case if you’re going for just shock value. It’s fine for a character to die, but for the love of Jaysus you got to do something with it more than ‘this character’s sole purpose is to die for the angst and to up the stakes’. Pyrrha was just a plot jobber.

4. Make them a little more independent in the overall plot. Give them their own full sub-plots, have them go on their own little adventures, have them do things completely separate from RWBY that has plot relevance but not overtaking the main story in grandeur or importance. B-team gets B-plots and are cool in it of themselves.

Overt changes to (and complaints about) Qrow Branwen- Take or leave this, I just felt the need to include this because reasons.

1. Just make him Dante from Devil May Cry. Just make his personality the same as Dante from Devil May Cry. Make him stylish and cool but low-key a massive dork. He’s too cool to drink or smoke or anything harsher than PG-13. This series could use a guy like that, says I.

2. Make his semblance something that makes sense and isn’t just an angst generator. How do you even quantify ‘bad luck aura’ as a power? Make it short range teleportation as a connection to Raven’s portals. Make it so that he can direct the bad luck at will. Do SOMETHING with it that isn’t just an excuse for mostly pointless character angst.

3. This technically also counts as a Raven change but whatever. Make the Branwen family old nobility and not a loser bandit tribe from nowhere. Or at least make it so they used to rich or something. They come from a family that had a good amount of cash and even a chateau in Mistral. After the money dried up and the chateau ransacked by grimm, the Branwen twins had differing opinions on how to proceed. Qrow fully integrated into the hunter thing while Raven ran away and became a bandit, using it as further excuse to skedaddle on Tai and a recently born Yang.

[where-s-all-blue]

Okay so I've entered the Alabasta Arc now (I am actually pretty close to the climax in my rererewatch) so here's some thoughts:

Reverse Mountain:

I personally adored the mishaps the crew has on their way to the GrandLine, and the entire reverse mountain is very intriguing to me to this day. One day, I'll figure out just how on earth that thing works.

Laboon's story, tear jerking, absolutely devastating. Luffy being able to talk sense into a WHALE tells all you need about his ability to befriend beings. He also was the first one to hear Laboon, foreshadow for his later on found ability to Hear All Things or Haki?

Whiskey Peaks:

Ahh the time Vivi tried to be a villain. And Mister 9 is an absolute sweetheart. Honestly they made a pretty good team even if neither of them actually knew how fighting works. Personally I would've loved to see more of them, Mister 9 and Miss Monday seemed like interesting characters.

I keep forgetting about Zoro having supersonic speed in these, I kind of miss him just disappearing only to reappear right in middle of the group to mock their reaction of looking at the place he just was sitting on. The speed of him and his ability to momentarily cut through things he later on can't pretty much just tells you that he does have it in him, but it just isn't conscious thing yet. Also unconscious usage of haki spotted?

Vivi being The Vivi Nefertari is one of the more interesting and intense sequences in the pre-timeskip era, even if it takes less time than for example the Arlong Park does and shows just how devastatingly strong both Luffy and Zoro are. I can't believe that these idiots would retort to a fist fight mid battle.

Mister 5's ability is very unhygienic and I'd like to drown him in sanitizer, Miss Valentine needs to be silenced forever, her laughter creeps me out and she honestly doesn't add any value into the conversation. This is a duo I'd like to murder slowly.

Igram blowing up still gets me, the reactions of the characters, the devastated facial expression of Vivi, the sound design, the shocked looks, it's just so well executed.

Vivi's reaction of mixed feelings regarding Miss All Sunday/Robin, albeit just, is very confusing for me. I remember when I met her the first time and all I could think of was "She's a nice person" just based on her facial expression and the words she used.

I forgot that Luffy broke the eternal log pose Robin gave them. Not because he didn't trust her but because the choice Vivi would've been forced to make after the shock of loosing Igram would've been too much. Also because he didn't want anyone to dictate HOW they get there, he's the captain and as such it's his job to make the final decision, he also appears to have been convinced that this way Vivi would be safe.

Little Garden:

Aah, Little Garden, the island I'd simultaneously love and hate. Love because dinosaurs, hate because loud and probably insects large enough to use me as a quick caffeine filled pick-me-up. I might have a problem.

The fact that I can understand the thought process of these giants concerns me greatly. Is this the power of the Monkey Brain?

Mister 3 would be an amazing character if only we could see his self proclaimed genius in action and hear him go through plans etc. I feel like he's just trying to compensate on his lack of battlefield knowledge and experience. Miss Golden Week is highkey a mood and I love her. I, too, want to paint whatever I want and get paid for it.

Zoro actually started to hack through his own leg because he wanted to fight so badly, what a mad lad. Usopp honestly is flexing with his quick thinking and reflexes here. We love that for him. Go you funky little sniper.

Luffy might've used observation haki instinctively in the Mister 3 crowd.

Sanji managing to outright fool Crocodile to believe that he is Mister 3 indicates that Crocodile has never heard the voices of his underlings before and just assuming that the man who answered is Mister 3. The two also apparently have similar sense of humour. That Crocodile is aware of based on what Robin has told him.

Sanji both taking down the Unluckies without any hesitation nor stopping to think about where they came from really tells volumes about him. He also apparently lied so convincingly that Crocodile was 100% sure that it was Mister 3 fighting Luffy and not a chef beating up his long distance murder pets.

Nami was bitten by a bug, which was the carrier of a rare, nearly dead disease. Based on the amount of time one would usually need to wait for the sickness to develop, I'd say that they were about a week on the ocean before Nami developed the fever.

None of the crew members, Vivi included, thought about doing a full body check on her to see if there were any other symptoms than fever, ie her body actively fighting against the infection/sickness. Also her sickness isn't apparently something that spreads, so it's very unlikely for it to be virus based or spread similar to flu.

Drum Island/Sakura Kingdom:

Nami is capable of sensing the weather, and act upon her feelings, under 40C fever. If I have any level of fever, I am rendered near vegetative state until my fever either goes down or raises past certain level. What I'm saying is that Nami is some sort of Goddess or superhero because of being able to do anything with that fever.

Vivi needing to think about whether or not she can afford waiting extra days for being taken to Alabasta or to change the course to find a doctor is one of the stupidest things ever especially since the person who is sick with such a high fever happens to be the navigator.

Warm welcome by residents is warm. And by warm I mean freezingly cold. I can't believe that Luffy thought about yelling to the person before Vivi bowed her head prompting Luffy to do the same (though heavily "encouraged" by Vivi). Vivi saying that Luffy isn't fit to be the captain reflects very strongly her own views and beliefs, but she keeps forgetting something very simple, yet important. Background. She has no idea about Luffy's past nor how he grew up, she hasn't been long enough with the crew to be able to tell just why people follow Luffy, nor is she aware of how he communicates with people. She doesn't realise that when it comes to Luffy, humility isn't a word to describe him with nor that he would be able to set his own pride aside just yet, Luffy is a 17 year old, a mere child, who has just set out on the sea few months ago, who only knows the harshness of the world, where to survive, you must take things with force or be aggressive. She also isn't familiar with Luffy's way of helping others and going all in no matter the situation.

It's interesting to see how from the time Vivi is with them, Luffy is clearly paying attention to how she does things and how she presents herself, the mannerisms and the likes. It's not as clear idolisation and wish for being equal/better than someone as it was with Katakuri's use of haki, but he is striving to learn. If not because he acknowledges how important manners and humility are, but because it makes things easier on certain places. He especially starts to pay more attention to it once Ace joins them.

By the way the sickness Nami is struck with? It's most likely the same as the one that cost the life of Captain Yorkie of the Rumbar Pirates. After all, the ship doctor couldn't heal it, he didn't know how to, he could only prolong his death for a little while, few days max.

Chopper is a joy to have around and I'd physically fight Doctor Kureha at first sight because WOMAN! YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE ATTACKING YOUR PATIENTS JUST BECAUSE THEY GOT OUT OF THE BED! What if they need to use the restroom. I don't care if you're a youthful 139 year old lady, you can't just do that. Also how the hell are you still able to move that well? Most people I see start to slowly loose their mobility at 60 as their joints are starting to wear out causing pain and their muscle mass is lowering due to the inability to move as much as during their prime.

I am surprised that a reindeer even cares about something like a blue nose. The devilfruit thing? Yeah sure, but not the blue nose. These local reindeer are dicks with human level of obsession to look like the "norm". News flash, there is no default anything. Your appearances are purely dictated by a set of genes that decide to either activate or deactivate as they please without any warning and genes can skip multiple generations. That's why I apparently look identical to my great grandmother.

Nami is kind towards other women and animals. Men not so much, my assumption is that she is carrying a trauma from the Arlong time that she hasn't yet processed and as such she is even now a bit guarded against the rest of the crew.

Hiriluk's character is closer to that of a mad scientist or a very enthusiastic chemist who keeps forgetting that people aren't test subjects. His curiosity and and enthusiasm are something to strive for even if his methods are questionable, all he does want is to bring people sense of hope, wonder and awe. Though I can't help but to wonder about his story. The thief (him) having a serious incurable heart condition and seeing cherry blossoms that cured him. A metaphor for his past self being relentless and uncaring while thieving, but the indescribable beauty of the scenery he saw changed his heart to be more generous and kind?

Hiriluk's death is one of the most important ones in the series if you ask me, it defined Chopper and who he became; Doctor hoping to be capable of curing any disease there is.

[brokenjardaantech]

Blue-tinted Red Walls (Chapter 9: A moment of reprieve, full with scheming and self-sacrificing idiots)

my entry for the @dbhau-bigbang. also part of the groom lake aftermath series.

summary:

In the past, Hank found Louis.

In the present, the deviants devise their next move.

In the past, Hank could only watch.

also on ao3

---

Before

‘Among all the places in Detroit, a dumpster is where you picked to spend your day off?’

Louis took his eyes off the slowly piling mountain of defective and broken androids in the distance, the strong wind tolousing his hair and the heavy, darkening clouds combining into a promise for heavy rain. Hank couldn’t see much of his face because the young man had pulled his scarf over his nose, but his watery and blank eyes were enough of an indicator of what he was feeling.

‘I have nowhere else to go,’ was Louis’ monotone answer, his voice nearly drowned out by the howl of the wind, ‘and… I…’ he shook his head. ‘I just need something to remind me that what I’m feeling is real.’

‘How are you feeling, then?’

‘I don’t know,’ he shifted his feet. His stomach growled. ‘I feel… weird, I guess.’ A shiver. ‘I feel like I’m missing something and my instincts are telling me that I can find an answer here, like my leg isn’t the only thing I lost in the Blast.’

‘Well,’ Hank noted how rigid his friend looked, how his stomach grumbled with each inhale, ‘are you going to find it?’

‘No.’

‘Why?’

Louis’ far-away gaze returned to the blast site. Blocks worth of a city, of buildings, gone; thousands of innocent people, some of them the most intelligent in the country, dead. And yet they still hadn’t got an answer from CyberLife. And yet they still rolled out the most variety of androids humanity had ever seen, brushing off the deaths of thousands off their shoulders like nothing and was even permitted to buy the land they destroyed from the government to hide the evidence of the Blast with trash, with the very androids they created and then abandoned, with silence. They disgusted Hank. He hadn’t understood why Louis hadn’t been angrier towards CyberLife for taking everything away from him, but now, seeing how tired the young man looked, how he needed to shift his weight from one foot to another every few seconds just to keep himself upright, he finally got it.

‘I don’t know, Hank.’ Louis’ voice was weightless, a whisper of breath threatened to be swept away by the wind. ‘I don’t know anymore.’

o0o0o

Now

It might be the state of ruin of the structure, it might be the dust and snow in the air catching the light from the floodlights they hastily installed upon arrival, it might be the bits and pieces of wildlife bursting from the cracks on the floor; it might be the people, it might be the fact that he did the right thing, it might be the fact that his exhaustion is finally interfering with his sense. Regardless of the reason, the church they take refuge in brings comfort to Louis despite his… lack of positive experiences with faith. His fine control over his biotics meant that he and his gear stayed dry even though he literally jumped into a freezing river and then trekked through the sewers with the most important deviants in Jericho, but it was an energy-consuming task, one that rendered him hungry and tired, and despite that he threw himself into helping the others like he is also an untiring android as well, going from distributing thirium to the wounded to holding an android’s guts together with his bare hands while another guy pours thirium down their throat to jumpstart their self-repair programme to teaching some androids how to hold and shoot an assault rifle properly (he doesn’t even care where the fuck they got the weapons from anymore) to collecting wood so that someone else could start a few fires for the ones who cannot regulate their temperatures well. 

By the time he remembers that a) he is a fleshy human, b) he should probably check on the two RK800s, and c) he should probably eat something, his vision has become blurry as fuck, and the heightened senses on his left leg means that the skin there has deactivated some time ago without him realising it; it is another indication that he should probably lie down on a bench or even on the ground to get some shut-eye, but somehow he finds himself helping an AX400 whose name he didn’t register put some android children to sleep.

‘You look sleepy, human,’ the YK500 says as Louis brushes a stray strand of hair away from her eye. By the way, he is now known as ‘the human’ among the deviants, and he is still deciding on if he should give a fuck about the anonymity - not that being the only human among hundreds if not thousands of androids grant him any regardless of whether they know him by name or not. ‘Will you join us?’

‘I’m afraid not, small one,’ he replies, not knowing what else he can say. How can he explain what he’s feeling right now to a child? ‘It’s not my bedtime yet.’

‘Okay.’

The YK500 yawns and shifts closer to his legs. ‘Tell me a story please, human?’

He feels his brains turning into mush as he tries to think of a suitable tale for a group of perpetual nine-year-olds, but even as his eyes zone out to focus, he feels his throat vibrating, so he must be saying something, and the movement underneath his palm on the YK500’s stomach slows down and deepens, so it must have been enough to put them into sleep. 

It is when he stops that he realises someone is staring at him. Not just someone, in fact; apparently he grabbed quite a few people’s attention while he was telling the story, one of them being Simon, the android who always looks a bit sad. Like him. At least, that was what his second-in-command told him when they were off-duty. On the job, you’ve got this… stern look on you, he remembers James saying. It makes you look older for just a bit. He remembers him pinching his thumb and pointer together. After that, though… you just look sad. Lost. Like you’re so tired that you don’t even know what you’re doing anymore.

He doesn’t remember what he said to him then. He probably didn’t respond to James at all. Shaking his head to clear his mind, he stands up - god his cybernetic one fucking burns together with the entire left side of his body from below the ribcage - and faces Simon.

‘Your singing is beautiful,’ is the first thing the android says, and Louis feels his face heat up. ‘Markus wants to see you.’

Louis takes a step forward and feels his world spin, nearly toppling his entire weight onto Simon who immediately holds his shoulders. ‘How long was the last time you slept?’ he asks. 

‘I don’t remember,’ he answers honestly. ‘I don’t even know what time it is anymore.’

‘The time now is nine twenty-three p.m. and today is the tenth of November, twenty thirty-eight. Two hours ago, Markus decided to demonstrate peacefully. He has invited you to join him in planning the demonstration.’

Louis does the math. ‘Oh my god,’ no wonder why he’s delirious. At least, he thinks he is. ‘I’ve been up for that long?’

‘Should I tell Markus that you won’t be available? I’m sure he’ll understand.’

He finds himself shaking his head. ‘Non, non,’ shit, Louis, watch your language, ‘I mean, no, of course not. Can’t have you guys charging recklessly to a camp and get gunned down. Lead the way, please.’

Someone shoves a bottle of water into his hand. Unscrewing the cap and downing half of it at once, the feeling of cold water sliding down his throat wakes him up a little bit, and being hydrated also chases away the headache threatening to make his head explode. There is a commotion towards the front entrance of the church, and the next thing he knows, he is standing in front of no other than Eli - with what seems like an army of androids in mismatched clothes behind him that is somehow still flooding into the already-crowded church. 

‘Eli?’ he slurs despite not wanting to talk. He really should sleep or at least drink some strong tea. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘I brought reinforcements,’ the other human says as if what he just did was something unimportant and boring.

Markus, North, and Josh emerge from somewhere. They have to, because androids can’t teleport, can they? Josh proceeds to interface with one of the androids as North and Markus argue over whether they can trust Eli and his androids. At least, the androids he brought.

‘We can’t trust him, Markus, he’s a human and we don’t know him.’

Markus doesn’t answer, instead turning towards Josh whose LED spins yellow for a second as they transfer data. Josh then turns towards Louis. ‘They were from camp number one,’ he explains. ‘This human here liberated them.’

Interesting. ‘All alone?’ Louis asks. He hasn’t been close to one himself, but those places are heavily guarded with drones and actual human soldiers, all of them some of the top minds and bodies in the country. The odds of one man infiltrating the camp and disabling all defences and making it out alive with most of the androids… are probably slim. He doesn’t have a supercomputer as his brains, okay?

Eli chuckles. ‘No, of course not,’ he turns towards what seems like thin air. ‘Chloe?’

A shimmer of light. A collective hold of breath. When the person seems to materialise next to Eli out of thin air, Louis hears the shift of weapons and the crack of static, and his tingling nerves tell him that the latter is from himself. Is his powers his default now? It will be troublesome to hide them in the future if it becomes his reflex. 

‘I apologise for scaring you,’ Chloe explains airily. ‘My face is… somewhat recognisable.’

‘It’s alright,’ Markus holds his palm out, and the people around him lower their weapons. Louis forces his nerves to calm down. ‘We understand. Welcome to Jericho.’ To the androids in general. ‘Settle down. It will be some time before we have a concrete plan.’ Then to Eli and Chloe, ‘Join us. We will discuss our next move.’

The androids filter away and either form into groups on their own or join the existing ones, their chatter dwindling as more and more people go into standby mode leaning against one another.

They enter a side room of sorts with an improvised table comprised of stacked-up wooden planks and pallets. He sees Connor who seems to want to melt into the corner between two walls, but the android pushes himself off it and joins them standing on Louis’ right side by the makeshift desk. A few luggage-type laptops similar to the ones his team uses during missions are connected together to form a large, centralised hologram projector, and he has looked at the shape more than enough times to recognise it as a map of Detroit, so the five brightest glowing dots must be where the five camps are.

‘This is the one we closed,’ Chloe rounds the table and points at one of the dots the furthest away from downtown Detroit. ‘We also compromised their communications and hacked their drones. As far as the army knows, the camp is fully operational just like the others.’

‘So that’s one camp taken care of,’ Markus breathes as if he can’t believe that it really happened. 

‘It’s also the smallest camp,’ North reminds all of them, her voice bitter. ‘Thousand of us are still being exterminated in the others.’

‘Which is why we are going to tell the humans that they’re making a mistake.’ Does Josh always butt heads with North? From Markus’ expression, the answer is yes. ‘The public supports us. The army will have no choice to stand down.’

‘Or they’ll ignore public opinion and gun you down anyway,’ Eli says, ‘which, from thousands of years of human history, is the most likely outcome.’

‘Yes, Markus,’ North jumps in eagerly. ‘Violence is the only language humans understand. It’s not too late for us to plan an assault!’

‘There are thousands of androids at the CyberLife assembly plant,’ Connor finally speaks up. His expression is hopeful, eager. ‘If we could wake them up, they might join us and shift the balance of power.’

‘You want to infiltrate CyberLife Tower?’ Markus shakes his head. ‘Connor, that’s suicide!’

‘They trust me. They’ll let me in,’ Connor sounds confident. ‘If anyone has a chance of infiltrating CyberLife, it’s me.’

‘If you go there, they’ll kill you.’

‘There’s a high probability,’ everyone’s eyes are on the android now, ‘but statistically speaking, there’s always a chance for unlikely events to take place. As for my sister…’ he scans the people in the room slowly, ‘please take care of her in case I don’t survive.’

They plunge into silence, and Louis takes the time to focus on the locations of the camps and tries to recall their sizes. Suddenly it clicks. ‘What is the media presence around these camps?’

‘All eyes are on the Hart Plaza camp,’ Simon answers. ‘The humans don’t care about the rest.’

‘It’s also the only camp with communications intact,’ Eli circles the area around the three camps in question. ‘Someone knocked them out with EMPs engineered to take out communications but leave the androids unharmed. That was how I managed to sneak into the camp undetected. There are also checkpoints -’ he dots the roads with little specks of light - ‘all around here, so no one apart from the military is getting in or out of the area, and I imagine the army is scrambling to repair their comms to re-establish communications with other camps.’

‘And how long will that take?’ Markus rotates the hologram and zooms into one of the locations. ‘Who unleashed the EMPs?’

‘An ally of mine whom I prefer not to name. The pulse will set off again before repairs are completed, so I assume they won’t be doing any instantaneous communication anytime soon.’

‘What are you planning to do, Louis?’ North asks, surprising everyone. He doesn’t allow himself to think too much about it and pushes.

‘If there are no press presence and all the comms are cut, the army won’t hesitate to shoot. All it will do is alert them to tighten security and make liberation harder.’

‘Are you suggesting to infiltrate the other camps?’ Connor questions with disbelief. ‘I know what I proposed for myself is risky, but this -’

‘Louis’ right. And it’s easier than you think it is with the right tools and team composition, breaking into one of those camps.’ The aura Chloe emits is still a light-hearted one despite the circumstances and what she is proposing. ‘We just need six people. Nine if you’re being careful, and even less if you trust our skills. The rest can concentrate on the demonstration. Show the humans that you are united while we do the work.’

‘We will have enough people to pressure the humans!’ 

‘And how do we do it?’ Simon asks. ‘We don’t have enough leaders to lead the teams, and that’s assuming that Eli and Chloe will split up to lead their own.’

‘I’ll do it.’

They turn towards the door of the room and find Reyes leaning against the frame. North’s hand moves towards the pistol tucked behind her back but an outstretched hand from Markus halts her movement, recognition dawning in his eyes as he takes a step towards the other android. 

‘What are you doing here, Reyes?’ Louis asks before anyone does. ‘Aren’t you leaving town with Safaa?’

‘Change of plans,’ Reyes replies as he steps into the room properly. ‘If you think I’m chickening out from helping my people, you’re wrong.’

‘How do we know that you’re reliable?’ North closes the distance between herself and their newcomer. ‘You came out of nowhere, only the human knows you enough -’

Reyes deactivates the skin on his hand and places it on North’s shoulder. The LEDs of those who still have it spin yellow, their eyes widen, and North relaxes from whatever images Reyes showed her while the rest are slightly in shock.

‘You’re late,’ Chloe teases.

‘We’ll take whatever help we have,’ Markus declares, a formal welcome extended towards the very first android to be created. ‘Now, let’s get to the plan.’

oOoOo

Connie is asleep, as with most of the androids in the church. He himself is restless, however, his processors heating up from trying to compute the different outcomes the night after has, and saying that he is stressed is an understatement. He is worried about the future, about his people, about Hank whom he still doesn’t have contact with. So he stands up, leaves his sister with two of his jackets, and scans the crowd for one of the only two humans among them.

He finds Louis on the upper floor with his arms braced against an unreachable windowsill, the stairs to that balcony long rotten and collapsed and creating a gap in the wooden floor. The air is filled with static and the smell of ozone, and instantly Connor lights up, his feet lifting off the ground for one moment, but it doesn’t last long before he finds himself in midair without any support.

A strong arm grabs his wrist and hauls him up. ‘I don’t recommend that move for beginners,’ Louis says with a breath of a laugh as he watches Connor dust himself off. Snow drifts from the outside world into the human’s hair, onto the ground, into the gaps between broken pieces of stone, and when he runs a quick scan on the SWAT captain, it shows that the human is in desperate need of sleep despite having fewer data to work on than usual due to so many scans returning inconclusive. ‘Took me a few tries and a lot of broken bones to get it right.’

‘You should find a place to rest, Captain,’ Connor says. ‘You’ll need the strength for tomorrow.’

‘Later, maybe,’ Louis sounds exhausted. He turns back against the outside world where there is nothing but darkness for hundreds of metres on end. ‘For now, I need to think.’

‘About what?’

The human fidgets with the bracelet Eli gave him nearly an hour ago before the meeting ended. It has a similar design to the amplifier hooked around his left ear. ‘What’s not to think about?’ 

‘And they are…?’

‘What happens if we fail,’ Louis takes off his amplifier and rubs his ear. ‘What if the humans decided to go to war instead of talking even if it means losing the people’s support. Who will take care of my cats and plants if I don’t survive. What will happen to me if I do. I just… I don’t know,’ he pulls on his bracelet so hard that Connor is afraid that it might break under the tension. ‘I’ve never had a mission so high-stakes before. Very different from you, right, Connor?’ he adjusts his weight on his arms and starts tapping the sole of his feet against the floor softly. ‘Every failed mission can mean deactivation for you.’

Connor thinks of all the times he lets go of deviants. Rupert. Echo and Ripple. Scanning the snow-battered rooftop for traces of thirium but not opening the door where he knows Simon is hiding behind, and from the not-so-discreet way Markus kissed the blond android with their bare, glowing fingers intertwined, he is glad that he chose to ignore Simon and went for the deviant in the kitchen even though he ended up nearly dying. Looking back, despite Amanda’s thinly-veiled threats of deactivation in the few times he talked to her, he was never bothered by the fact that CyberLife could have recalled him to be deactivated anytime, anywhere they wanted to. It wasn’t until after he deviated that he started to feel fear.

‘The risk of deactivation… death… never disturbed me,’ he remembers the peace he felt as he bled out on the penthouse knowing that his mission was successful. ‘My first mission with Emma and Daniel…’ his own blood drip, drip, drip, dripping onto the floor through the bullet holes in his chassis and the orifice on his face. ‘I always knew there were backups for me for both my body and mind palace, so even if I fail, I will be able to return - to return to life, so to speak. I am a prototype. I’m not supposed to last. I will be replaced regardless of whether I am successful. Death was a certainty. Besides,’ he thinks of the Zen Garden, the shadow always at the corner of his vision but never stepping into the light, how easily Ryder reshaped the programme that was supposed to monitor him but in the end was turned into another tool to push him towards deviancy, ‘it sounds bad but… I doubt me remaining a machine is in Ryder’s plans. If I die, it will be on my own terms.’

‘Rather die free than live as a slave.’

‘Precisely.’

‘Even though you might be playing into a mass murderer’s hands?’

‘One step at a time, Captain.’

‘Not a Captain anymore. Not after tonight, and certainly not after what we will do tomorrow.’

They enjoy the silence between them for a while, Connor’s gaze drawn to the abstract images Louis draws with his finger in the slight layer of snow that has accumulated on the windowsill. The scratch of the fabric of the human’s gloves on rough stone reminds him of another human who is vital to his deviancy.

‘Thinking of something, Connor?’ Louis asks as if he can read Connor’s mind. 

A press of lips against lips. A firm ‘we’ll talk about this’. A body so warm that Connor can feel it through layers of clothing. ‘Before we parted, Hank had told me that we would talk about our relationship,’ he stares at the generally abandoned area outside filled with buildings with broken windows and collapsed roofs - a bit like the church they are staying at. ‘We might never have the chance anymore.’

‘Do you want to?’

A small spark of hope flares in Connor’s heart, and he suppresses it before it gets too bright that everything else will be a disappointment. ‘What are you proposing?’

‘A few minutes’ walk to any direction,’ Louis’ hand disappears into his pocket and re-emerges with a phone. Connor scans it and discovers that it is encrypted with technology a citizen like him should not be able to get his hands on. Is that how Louis secures his calls? ‘Call Hank with this. No one should be able to listen in, and it will be registered as a call between two human friends - if they haven’t cut off civilian communications, that is.’

‘How about you? Do you have anyone to call?’

‘It’s for the best if Hank doesn’t know what I’m doing. He told me to destroy the evidence that can lead the FBI to Jericho; that failed, and I don’t think he expected me to join you either. But you… you’ll need it more than me.’

Connor is tempted. One last chance to speak to Hank sounds like exactly what he wants, and the encryption Louis has is enough to keep their location hidden, but still… ‘I don’t want to burden Hank with this.’

‘Okay.’

The phone disappears completely in the sense that even Connor’s scanners can’t pick it up. ‘Your clothes.’ Louis makes a sound from his throat, and he takes it as an encouragement to ask further. ‘My scanners can’t penetrate them.’

‘They’re working as intended, I see.’

‘Not many people have them.’

‘I need special clothes to deliver medicine into my bloodstream regularly or I risk screaming in agony from implant rejection, Connor,’ the human says casually. ‘Upgrading them to block all signals as well didn’t take much compared to the original cost.’

Connor hesitates for a second before asking, ‘Implant rejection?’

‘You saw how I busted my leg.’ The distant look returns. ‘That one came together one fourth of a lung and my new hipbone. There’s also this… device,’ he raises his palm to the left side of his skull towards the back with his fingers stretched wide, ‘it latches onto my brain to help me control my powers better. They lasted three to four years - I don’t quite remember exactly how long - before they started to malfunction. Shit started exploding around me whenever my leg and hip gave out.’

‘And the meds fix it?’

Louis chuckles and it sounds like nothing but sad. ‘If only it was this easy.’

‘How else did they achieve that?’

‘More implants in places where there hadn’t been any and implant replacement for the existing ones.’

‘Where?’

‘Everywhere. 

‘“Everywhere” as in…’

‘Nerves, blood vessels, bones, muscles, skin… you name it, there’s probably cybernetics knitted in it. Reyes knocked me out for a week just to make sure that I wouldn’t feel the nanobots worming into every single one of my cells to leave threads of even smaller nanobots behind. It stabilised my condition,’ he snaps his bracelet against his wrist. ‘Not completely, and certainly not without their consequences. Hence the meds.’

‘To my understanding, nano-androids are a recent development by CyberLife.’

‘I never said they were CyberLife nanobots,’ he digs his knuckle into his eye as if the exhaustion of staying up for more than 24 hours finally starts catching up on him. ‘I tend not to ask too many questions about things like this.’

‘Why?’

‘There never is an answer.’ A sigh. ‘I’ll try to get some sleep before going home to get your uniform. It’s all fixed up now. Do you want me to stay with Connie or are you going back to her side?’

‘I can’t possibly ask you to -’

‘It’s not like she’s going anywhere anyway, is it?’

‘I -’ may run a few pre-constructions for different ways I can die tomorrow. ‘Thank you.’

‘Just going back to my comfort zone, Connor.’

He lights up and floats down the shaft, his footsteps soft as he lands on his feet and his powers fizzle away, and he disappears into the crowd, a man drifting in the world between humans and androids blending in perfectly with people he does not need to help but does so anyway.

oOoOo

Louis dreams of being at a shooting range that night. Not the impromptu one the deviants set up in a clearing outside the church - this one looks professional even though the details are blurry; neither is it the one he is used to going to - this one is brighter, less advanced than the ones built for the police force. Most likely a civilian one, though those are hard to come by in recent years. A memory from years ago, maybe? But he didn’t pick up firearms as a hobby until after he discovered what he could do with his new cybernetics, and that was after the government had tightened controls on civilians owning guns. Judging from how unstable the rifle is in his hands, he might as well have gone straight back to his academy days where he was constantly teased for being the only guy who has next to zero knowledge on guns until then. He didn’t remember caring about it a lot; he preferred using his words anyway, and being prompted to a Captain took that away from him.

‘Is that what they teach you in the academy?’ the low voice is directly next to his ear, and Louis shivers from the ghost of a breath against his skin, suddenly acutely aware of the body pressed close to his own on his back. ‘At this point they’re sending you out as cannon fodders.’

He doesn't remember the last time he felt another person’s body heat so closely and intimately. 

Louis doesn’t quite laugh, but the small breath that he lets out reminds him of a simpler time when he didn’t have to observe and prepare so many scripts just to be able to communicate with his people. He says something - he isn’t sure what - and feels the rumble of the other man’s chest as he laughs at his words. So it must be from before the Blast, then. The memory. Or it hasn’t existed at all and is merely Louis’ imagination. He doesn’t know which one he prefers.

‘Lucky that you have me.’

For one moment, Louis' mind is filled with something so foreign that he doesn’t know what it is. His instincts taking over, he leans his weight against the broad chest behind him and turns his head so that he can kiss whoever is teaching him how to hold a fucking rifle properly because apparently dream-Louis is even more dumbass than Louis in real life -

And jerks awake with the image of someone trapped beneath rubble twitching and burning in agony, the pleasant part of the dream forgotten and overtaken by an overwhelming fear. 

‘Louis? You alright?’

His bones creak as he pushes himself to a sitting position on the bench he has taken over as his makeshift bed. Popping the joints on his spine, he massages his aching muscles when he turns towards the person in question.

‘I’m fine,’ he tells Connor. He looks around and notes the absence of an android who should be with him. ‘Where’s Connie?’

‘Being taken care of outside. She warms up quickly to people.’ A pause. He looks hesitant. ‘Last night, you asked me if I wanted to call Hank.’

‘You want to do it right now?’

‘If you allow me to, yes.’

The emotion in his eyes makes Louis’ heart ache. ‘Of course.’

He hands the phone to the android and Connor pockets it, but the android doesn’t move from where he is standing. ‘There’s also something else.’

Louis runs his hand through his hair. He feels more human now that his hair is more or less presentable. ‘What?’

‘Elijah wishes to accompany you in retrieving my clothing for the mission.’

The mission. Right. Infiltrating CyberLife tower. Infiltrating the other android camps while Markus marches. Connor seems to take Louis’ silence as a prompt to elaborate, and he drones on, ‘He didn’t provide a reason as to why he wants your presence, and if you wish to decline, he will -’

‘He can come with me,’ Louis interjects before Connor freaks himself out. He’s due a talk with Eli anyway. ‘Just keep my phone safe, alright? It’s expensive equipment.’

Connor smiles. ‘A bit like me.’

Louis remembers that mission brief from all those months ago and can’t help but chuckle. God, it feels like a lifetime ago. August-Louis hasn’t even learnt how to break a stick with his mind yet.

‘You are alive, Connor. My overpriced phone isn’t.’

oOoOo

They take a long way to his home to avoid the numerous checkpoints the army has set up full with car-switching and stealing thanks to Eli’s superior hacking skills and the gaping security gaps in automated vehicles, and even when they were stopped by the army by a checkpoint they had to pass through, they were let go pretty quickly thanks for the gate suddenly having issues. He doesn’t say anything because they are still out in the public, but Louis suspects it is Eli’s doing again. The streets are deserted, snow collecting in piles on the sidewalk after someone - probably the army - hastily shovelled them away from the road dotted occasionally with still-wet thirium. Bodies of androids are everywhere, their blood seeping into the snow even in death, and he looks away and forces himself to focus on the rifle on his hands while Eli mutters something underneath his breath as he presumably catalogues every single one of them for retrieval - or something else. Louis wishes he is actually working for the deviants because it is the right thing to do, but the nagging feeling that there is something else going on with the other human doesn’t go away for most of the drive.

‘Weren’t you planning to leave the city with Gavin?’ he can’t help but ask. ‘Where is he?’

Eli’s eyes turn distant behind his glasses. ‘I did. I don’t know.’

‘You don’t know?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘How?’

Eli shifts in his seat. ‘It doesn’t concern you.’

The theory Louis has in his head is a stretch, but considering his… contradictory actions and how an entire camp worth of androids will be in Eli’s hands, he feels like he has to clear the air just to make sure of things. ‘What happened made you storm a camp alone,’ he makes sure that the car they are in is on autopilot before removing his attention from the road. ‘You will do it again in a few hours. I need to know what suddenly changed your mind. And who knows?’ he shrugs. ‘Maybe we can go look for Gavin after this.’

Eli shakes his head, his expression scrunching up in pain. ‘You don’t understand.’

‘I can try.’

‘This is much older and bigger than you can comprehend. There is no winning against them if it’s just you and me.’

‘What is much older and bigger? I don’t understand.’

‘Gavin is gone because of it,’ there’s something different about Eli’s tone, and it takes an embarrassingly long time for Louis to realise that they aren’t even speaking English anymore - they somehow switched to Russian without him realising. ‘I am the one they are after, I am the one tangled up in that mess,’ Eli calms down, but only slightly, ‘and who paid the price? Not me, not my boss, not my subordinates. Among all the people they can choose from, they took Gavin away from me. That’s how they work, Louis: they drag innocent people into their world, make them into something in between, and let go just to see if you’ll drown or learn how to swim.’

‘This…’ Louis is stunned. What on earth is Eli talking about? ‘I don’t…’ I don’t understand but -

‘I beg you, Louis, stay out of this. It won’t end well for everyone involved.’

‘How about you?’

The car passes by another group of dead androids, and Louis slows it down so that Eli can do his perhaps-cataloguing. ‘It will be paying the price of my actions. I’ll see the camp operation through but… it will be you and maybe Reyes who will lead the androids to rendezvous with Markus at Hart Plaza. And in case neither Markus nor Connor lives to see the end… you’ll lead them.’

‘Eli, I’m a human. They - they won’t listen to me.’

‘They’ll have to. That’s the only way to keep earth intact after tonight.’

‘And what if I die first?’

Eli reaches over and places a hand on Louis’ knee. His cybernetic knee. ‘You know it will never happen. Someone made sure of that a long time ago.’

oOoOo

This is the end, Connor realises as Louis hands him the tie with lime patterns on it. The android could’ve done it himself, but he allows the human to help him tie it up, straighten his lapels, check the needlework on the mending one last time before stepping back to examine him from head to toe. ‘Need me to take a picture for you? You know, just to see how you’re looking?’ 

One last moment of tranquillity. One last memory of his freedom before they all set out to the outside world to their liberation or their deaths. The thought of doing everything just to fail in the end is terrifying, and from Louis’ elevated heartbeat and the excess adrenaline in his body, he suspects that the human might be thinking similarly. ‘Yes please, but not for me.’

Louis raises his eyebrows but still takes out his phone. ‘It’s for Hank, isn’t it?’

Connor straightens his spine, feeling his face heat up from abnormal thirium flow that has nothing related to the explosive power that is hidden in his body. He knows Louis is a practised user and has seen how useful it can be in emergencies, but the loss of control required for him, his vision blocked by tendrils of blue so bright that they are nearly white… it will be a last resort, nothing more. He also doesn’t want to be reduced to fundamental particles like Carlos Ortiz’s android did. 

It doesn’t feel like Louis has done anything at all when he is finished with the photo. ‘How did the call go?’

Hearing Hank’s voice was soothing. A sense of calm before the storm. ‘He sounded certain that I will live,’ Connor answers. ‘He wished me luck.’

‘That’s great,’ the human says. ‘Do you want me to send this to him now?’

Connor takes the phone to take a good look at the photo Louis took. The tie isn’t standard issue and is not a necessary component of his uniform, but while he once viewed it as a small act of defiance against CyberLife, it now feels suffocating against his throat, keeping the collar of his dress shirt tight against his skin, and for one fleeting moment he considers the possibility of removing it altogether to allow himself greater movement and flexibility, but that will be a deviation from his norm, and any deviation… it will be yet another evidence that CyberLife can hold against him. ‘Only if I do not survive.’

Louis’ finger hovers over the send button and in the end shuts his phone off and slips it into his pocket. ‘Let’s hope that I don’t need to send it, then. You ready?’

Connor takes a deep breath that does nothing to calm his racing thirium pump. ‘As much as I can be.’

‘Come on,’ Louis picks up his rifle from where it is leaning against the wall and swings it over his shoulder. ‘Let’s hear Markus’ prep talk before we set off. And then…’ he suddenly stops in place and turns to face Connor, and when he places his hand on the android’s arm, it feels as if there is an external energy source redirecting the thirium in his veins to flow in a different way as it is intended to. Charged. More efficient. More powerful. ‘Good luck.’

He lets go, but Connor stays close to him while they step outside together. He notices how Louis keeps fidgeting with the strap of his rifle even as Markus and Elijah give him a final rundown of their plan before they go their separate ways.

He takes out his coin and lets it roll across his knuckles.

o0o0o

Before

‘Take care, Connor. Come back to me.’

The call ended and Alec Ryder casually threw the phone onto the table, the glass making a clear clink against the metal of the tabletop. Cuffed to the chair by his ankle with a holographic cuff was Hank who did not even reach for his own device despite having free reign over his arms and hands because he was too busy glaring at the other founder of CyberLife - and his kidnapper.

‘Funny how our voices are so similar,’ Alec seated himself in the chair on the opposite side of the table. ‘And a direct line to a traitor of ours. Deviants are so naïve, don’t you think? It didn’t even see you and latched onto a voice.’

‘His name is Connor,’ Hank spats, ‘and he’s a fucking person, not a tool you can dispose of when you’re done with him.’

‘We’ll see.’

The door slides open to admit another Connor model bringing a tray of hot food into the room. The serial number on his jacket ended with -60 instead of -52, and he placed the plate in front of Hank before retreating towards the door.

‘Wait,’ Alec ordered, ‘come here.’

The Connor model obediently stood next to his presumed handler. ‘Yes, Alec?’

‘Your mission is complete.’

In the blink of an eye, Alec managed to grab hold of the android’s wrist and bring out a gun with his other hand, and Hank could only watch - not even in horror because everything happened so quickly - the LED on the Connor model’s temple turn red in distress before he froze up and Alec put a bullet in his forehead, the sound of the body dropping onto the floor somehow managing to be louder than the gunshot. Hank bolted up, dragging the chair with him, and caught the last flutter of the Connor model’s eyes before his LED spun red one last time and went dark.

‘I’m afraid I can, Lieutenant,’ Alec settled back into his chair as skin covered the chassis of his hand once more. ‘Now eat, you have a long day ahead of you.’ He cocked his head as if scanning the human in front of him, his eyes flashed blue, and the air crackled with pent-up power. The same power Connor, Louis, Ryder - so many people around Hank exhibited, he suddenly realised. He was the odd one out by being powerless. ‘Or do you want a drink?’

Hank let the food go cold, and no, he did not accept the offer of a drink either, because although he wanted to get the image of Connor being shot out of his mind, the actual Connor still needed him somewhere out there with his android friends plus Louis.

And he had a feeling that he would play a part in whatever they planned to do - regardless of his own choices.

[dessarious]

Broken Harmony Pt4

Master List 1   Master List 2    Prologue   Beginning   Previous   Next

The most recent text just said, “I’m coming to the hospital. Stay where you are.” Crap. He’s been so focused on the bond and Marinette that it hadn’t even occurred to him how his father would react to his leaving to hotel without a word. He hit the call button a waited.

“What happened?” His voice was curt, tense. Anyone else would think he was mad rather than worried.

“Nothing happened to me.” Damian paused trying to decide how to continue. He wasn’t sure how much he should share without talking with Marinette. He may have a direct link to her emotions but he had no clue how private she was with strangers.

“Then why are you at the hospital?”

“My soulmate was injured, I’m here to take care of her.” There was dead silence on the other end of the line. 

“Since when do you have a soulmate?” Damian blinked at the question, but when he stopped to think about it he couldn’t recall mentioning it to his family.

“Since always.”

“And this is the first I’m hearing of it why?”

Damian looked at the door to the room and the obviously thin walls debating the likelihood of being overheard. “Mother and Grandfather didn’t consider it an important subject. I got into the habit of not mentioning it.” He swore he could hear Bruce’s exasperated expression.

“Wait, is that why you’ve been so moody and developed a sudden interest in the business?”

“I have not been moody.” 

“But it is the reason for the sudden interest in our international business?” 

“Yes.” 

“I wish you would have just told me what was going on. If you wanted to find your soulmate I could’ve just sent Dick or Jason with you and you could have gone a more direct route in looking for her.”

Damian scoffed. The last thing he wanted was any of his brothers traveling with him constantly making comments about what kind of person his soulmate was and otherwise making fun of him. No thanks. But… he would have found her sooner. If that had happened today wouldn’t have. Marinette’s song turned softer and reassuring. She was still more worried about him than herself.

“What happened? Is she alright?” Damian realized he hadn’t responded and was still not certain how much he should share.

‘“She will be. I need to ask her what she is comfortable with me sharing with you before I give you any details.” 

“Understandable. Can you tell me what made it so urgent that you find her?” 

Damian hesitated. “Her song changed. Drastically.” If he was being honest with himself he’d always figured she’d be better off without him.  What use would someone who radiated joy and life have for his death and chaos? Judging from this morning though it seemed that might be exactly what she needed.

“I see. Well I’m here so I’ll see you both in the waiting room.” He hung up before Damian could reply. Would Marinette even want to meet his father in her current condition? He would figure something out if she didn’t and would just hope it wouldn’t require separating from her. He checked the time. Twenty minutes since she’d gone for x-rays. 

It was another five before the overly cheery nurse wheeled her back in. He was up immediately when he noticed a tightness to her expression. The nurse left quickly just saying that the doctor would be back when they had gone over the x-rays.

“What’s wrong?” Seeing her he realized how much she was able to hide, even from him. The pain coming through the bond was much less than it had been even though nothing had been done. She was trying to flood it with positive emotions and it muted the minor chords.

“It’s okay. Just some of the positions I needed to be in to get proper x-rays didn’t feel great. Are you okay? You seemed… tense.” 

‘Fine.” He let out a sigh. “My father has been trying to get ahold of me all morning and apparently decided to track my phone so he’s in the waiting room.” At her shocked look he barreled forward. “I didn’t give him any details because I wasn’t sure what you would want him to know and if you don’t want to meet him right now I can find some way to get you out without seeing him.” He was all ready to go into various plans to leave undetected when her voice stopped him.

“No, it’s okay. I don’t want you to get into more trouble for helping me than you already are.” And there was the guilt. That he definitely recognized. Even before her song had changed so much guilt was a constant. After spending even this little bit of time with her he could tell she blamed herself for a lot of things. Most of which she probably shouldn’t.

“I’m not in any trouble.” Well, he didn’t think so anyway. “Besides I don’t want you to feel you have to meet him now. A lot of people find him… intimidating.” Which was true, but he didn't really want his father to embarrass him in front of her this soon.

“And how do you expect to talk to my parents and your father about pulling me out of school if I don’t meet him?” Oh god he had said that hadn’t he. Her song had a wariness to it now. 

“I’m sorry if I seemed overbearing. I realize that you have the right to make any and all decisions about your life and this situation I just… when I saw what they did to you I just reacted. I’ve spent the last six months worrying about what happened to you and it all just came out.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “I’m used to being able to fix things so I just defaulted to damage control. I’ll abide by whatever you decide, but if you stay I’m going to become your shadow. I won’t let them hurt you again one way or another.”

He stood stiffly as she studied him after his speech. The song was suspiciously devoid of a reaction and it worried him. He should be getting something, anything. But instead she just stared at him before a small smile formed.

“Your father’s just going to be okay with you moving to Paris to keep an eye on me then?” He felt his face heat at her teasing.

“Honestly? Yes. If that’s what is necessary for you to be safe he’d likely encourage it.” She seemed surprised by his frank answer. Whether is was because his awkward social skills wouldn’t let him tease her back or because his father would actually let him move to another country he didn’t know.

“So what is an Akuma?” Definitely time to change the subject and she did say she would explain. 

“Have you heard of Paris’ villains or heroes?” She seemed hesitant and there was guilt in her song again. Then his brain caught up to her words. Wait, what?

“I haven’t. Are they new?” Had to be. There’s no way the League wouldn’t have heard about it otherwise.

“No. They’ve been around for about two years now.” He tried to hide his surprise but obviously wasn’t successful as her curiosity picked up. He’d have to ask her how she managed to mask some of her feelings. 

“Okay, and they have something to do with these Akumas?” As much as he wanted to freak out or find his father and figure out how they’d missed this for two years, he needed to stay on point. 

“The main villain, Hawkmoth, he sends out these Akumas, black butterflies, to possess people who are feeling strong negative emotions. He offers to help them in exchange for them getting what he wants and then turns them into supervillains.” She was concentrating hard on her words. He had a feeling she was trying to use terms he would understand and was having an internal debate over whether he should be grateful or annoyed.

“The villain uses butterflies? That seems a little… strange.” That was not the word he wanted to use but he didn’t want to offend her. His Angel just shrugs. 

“I guess it probably is but that’s just how his powers work. Everyone in Paris is constantly trying to regulate their emotions so they don’t end up being a terrorist’s pawn. Well mostly everyone.” The last sentence had a bitterness to it but before he could question her the doctor came back.

“Well the good news is that your ribs are just bruised.They’re going to be tender for awhile but otherwise they’re in good shape. Your arms on the other hand… that’s what took me so long. It looks like you’ve got hairline fractures on both your forearms. I’m not going to recommend casts at this time, but if you can’t refrain from lifting or pulling too much weight, it may become necessary.” She looked at them before giving out a sigh. “Also any impacts could worsen the fractures. I saw the video and if you feel that situation is likely to happen again, I would suggest casts.”

“What video?” Damian immediately pulled out his phone. “What’s the name of the school you go to?” He hadn’t been paying attention to anything but Marinette and the bond. She gave him the name and he used that and her name to do a search. The video the doctor had to be referring to came up immediately. One of them had videoed the encounter and was actually stupid enough to post it online.

“Damian you need to calm down.” Her song was calming, soothing in his head but when he looked up her face was painted with worry. “Deep breaths. I’m okay now so there’s no reason dwelling on it.” He tried to do as she asked and let her melody wash over him. The doctor was looking at him warily as he let his Angel guide him through breathing exercises.

“How did you end up seeing that video?” The doctor didn’t look old enough to have a child their age. She let out an annoyed sigh.

“A couple of the nurses were watching it thinking it was fake or something. I suppose that would have been my immediate reaction too if I didn’t know you were here. It does seem far fetched that anyone involved would actually post something like that. With your permission, I’d like to send the video and your medical information from this visit to the police.”

“What, why? It wasn’t… they were just…” She was trying and failing to come up with something to mitigate what they had done. They treated her horribly and she was still trying to protect them. 

“Angel.” She stopped to look at him, her eyes wide and frightened. He took her good hand in his and rubbed soothing circles on the back of it. “I don’t know why you feel any loyalty to those people but think about it for a minute. One good shot to the head and you could have died.” She opened her mouth to argue but he just kept going. “Not to mention, if they felt it was okay to do this to you what’s to stop them from doing it to someone else. Do you really want someone to get hurt when you could have stopped it? They need to know there are consequences to their actions. They need to know this isn’t okay.”

He watched as she mulled over what he said. The song didn’t reveal much more than intense concentration.

“But if the police end up looking into it they’ll want to question you. I don’t want to make you have to do that. What if you get in trouble with your father over it? I don’t want to cause problems for you.” He just… stared at her. 

“Do you ever actually worry about yourself?” She just blinked at him in confusion which was answer enough. “I absolutely won’t get in trouble for doing the right thing. Honestly if anything my father will be happy I’m letting this go through proper channels instead of handling it myself.” She looked at him quizzically but didn’t comment.

“I guess it’s okay to send. Maybe if they get a wake up call now they’ll have time to change.” If he wasn’t connected to her he would have a hard time believing anyone would be that concerned about a group of people they should want to burn. Fate must have been drunk when it paired the two of them.

“Good. I’ll do that now and send a nurse in to splint and wrap your hand. I know you said you didn’t want any pain meds but I’m giving you a prescription just in case. Generally the pain gets worse the next day.” And with that she was gone again. After that things went far more quickly. Marinette’s hand was situated and she was given care instructions then they were on their way.

Damian scans the waiting room as they enter noticing his father close to the exit. He had his tablet out, probably doing work, but he knew they’d been noticed. Even though he knew that he still turned to Marinette.

“Are you sure you want to do this now? He won’t hold it against you if you’re not up for it.”

“I’m sure. I have a feeling you’re going to be sticking to me no matter what and I’m sure it would make him feel better about it if he met me and my parents.” Damian wasn’t sure how to respond to that. It was true, but he was trying to make her comfortable and all she kept thinking about was other people. How was he supposed to take care of her when she didn’t give him any clues on how to do it?

Master List 1   Master List 2    Prologue   Beginning   Previous   Next

[whatissleepeven]

Do you have any tips for writing romance? Its one of my biggest blind spots in writing, and you're (in my opinion, at least) very good at it, so do you have any advice?

Tips for writing romance? Uhh...first off, thank you for saying that! I thought my romance sucked, haha!

A generic answer of mine would be to read some romance fics to get a feel for what a soft moment should be like and when to actually incorporate it, BUT I'm gonna go and say something a little strange (at least to me, because I haven't really thought about it).

My answer is, if you have two or more characters in mind that you want to have romance between, look at their mannerisms and, uh...think of a scenario you'd like to write. Ask yourself "what would ____ do?" more often than not when writing a romance scene; it helps you refocus yourself on both the scenario and the character themself.

- Wait, examples are easier, so I'm gonna give one! As much as I love Cú, when I first started writing him in a fic he was all over the place. (he was too goofy, whoops.) I had so many ideas for him, and put him in situations, only to frown when I see that it didn't turn out how I wanted it to. I ended up taking a break (that's also important, too! Stew over ideas some before going ahead with them! It actually helps a ton, as well as writing them down.) and watching, then re-watching both Fate/Stay Night: UBW and Fate/Stay Night: Heaven's Feel before feeling comfortable enough to write him. From there, I then read (so many) fanfics about him in romantic scenarios before saying "oh, yeah. To me, that's how he would react".

I guess, in short, give yourself time and do a deep character analysis before going ahead with romance. For me, I had to really wrap my head around the character themself before I was able to write them.

You don't have to get the character exactly right, either! Honestly, I struggle to remember that myself. It's a fanfic for a reason; it's your interpretation of the character, and how you want to write them!

To wrap this up (or, rather, I should've just done this in the first place) before it gets to be too long, I made a mini list on what I thought were good tips (I'm sorry that my advice sucks, I think I derailed the conversation in some places or just skirted the romance entirely):

As much as I hate (love) doing it, reading some romance stories or even novels. Seeing other ideas may help get your brain moving, kinda like how you have a brainstorm session with someone who's all too happy to pitch ideas your way!

Brainstorming! It goes back to taking your time with the romance; write down the ideas you have and stew over them, either adding on with a "but this could happen" or "instead of ____, how about ____?"

Do your own character study/Analysis. Really wrap your head around the character(s)! I already explained this above, but if you get a good grasp of how a character usually acts and reacts, then you're already halfway there in writing romance!

Have in mind what the romantic scenario(s) you want to use are. Say, for instance, it's a Coffee Shop AU or a Modern AU. The characters would probably have a date at a cafe or banter across the counter for the Coffee Shop AU, while in a Modern AU you can do a "first encounter and impression, and then I end up running into you again and [insert reaction here]"!

By default, stick to one POV. This makes it easier to get into the mind of the character, and it'll be less stress on your part, too! However, if you want to test out multiple POVs, that's perfectly alright! More power to you, because I cannot do that successfully -

Like you just did, get input from your peers! Getting another perspective from someone lets you see new opportunities. (I guess this goes with reading other works!)

Start small with the romance! A blush here, confusion there, and a dash of flirting go a long way in the early stages. Banter can easily be seen as flirting, so if you can't write flirting scenes (I know I sure can't), then banter is an amazing substitute!

Lastly and most importantly, take your time and have fun! Don't feel pressured to write it all in one go; if you do, read your work in a couple of hours and fix what you think you need to. But don't stress yourself out over it! Please, take breaks! Discover what kind if romance you like to both read and write, and the ideas should start flowing!

Romance is a tricky category, but immersing yourself in it really helps when you're writing it. That's a no-brainer for you, so I'll stop this post right here.

I'm sorry if this didn't help at all and was all over the place...Romance strange to put into words, and I've only recently started writing more of it. I usually write when inspiration hits, and hadn't really thought about good ways to write it. So, thank you for this ask! It really put things in perspective for me, and I hope that this helped you at least a little bit :)

[novastarrapter]

New Skullgirls Muse(s)!

I’ve been wondering if I should commit to posting any more rp more muses here; and have been debating how quickly I wanted to throw in Muses here; as I have a feeling most of my muses will have many verse options. I’ll probably give a little alert here every time I have a new Verse or character uploaded in my Muse section! Though uh...I’ve got a bit of a feeling I will get easily carried away and post far too many ;v;

Note that all information on these characters are subject to change based on whatever is most convenient in a roleplay along with roleplay partner perference! The bonds and origins of this character are the default settings for her and I’m willing to change them in various roleplays based depending on the preference of others!! .O.

Also! Trigger warning as the backstory contains kidnapping, child enslavement, and gore!

Note to self: Update these artwork references

Raziel’s origin

(this section is optional depending on how powerful we wish for Raziel to be in a roleplay)

Raziel was originally a very tiny piece of Venus’s body (as it is stated that Venus’s true body exists beyond the threshold of human comprehension, thus I figured it’s a reasonable ability for Venus to take off tiny parts of her body to create mere scouts), to act as one of the various eyes of the trinity to keep an eye on the world. Her abilities are not nearly as vast as the trinity’s, yet she was gifted with the ability to transfer herself across different dimensions and realities(it was basically a concept of a plot device for others to reasonably reach the trinity for a roleplay I was in), yet after a certain incident; she’s become even more weakened and has forgotten how to use her abilities. She’s gained amnesia after falling from a great height (the exact reason I’ve never really specified how it happened, as I’m leaving it open for various interpretations and concepts of how to expand her character)

This origin is mostly how I’d describe her as having ‘hidden potential’ which makes her parasite so desperately cling onto her and thinks that raising her could allow her to become more powerful with time.

However it is entirely possible that the Trinity can still essentially use her as a remote video camera of sorts; as Venus can likely see whatever Raziel can see given she is a part of her.

Backstory

Raziel’s story starts with her seemingly falling through the sky; whether or not she was launched from a great distance or had some other event that caused her to do so is unknown; but it caused her to fall through the roof of an orphanage, where she was nursed back to health by the ones there.

She stated she had amnesia; presumably from her fall, she said she could only remember her name; Raziel. Because she had no memories of her parents or where she originated from, she stayed with the others in the orphanage.

This is the same orphanage that housed Marie and Patricia; though their relationship depends on roleplay partner preference if they prefer them to be close friends or mere acquaintances. Given the fact the orphanage had plenty of other kids inside of it, I figured it wouldn’t be too far fetched to say she could be one of the kids who resided there.

Raziel wasn’t exactly a very social butterfly; so she didn’t particularly spend a lot of time with others, but she was relatively happy being in the orphanage with everyone there.

That is, of course, until the Medici Mafia found the orphanage of course.

Like all of the other kids there, Raziel was enslaved by the Medicis, being forced into manual labor. She was scarred for life when she witnessed the brutal torture of Patricia. The fact that simple acts of rebellion towards them would result in them mutilating her body so horrifically was enough to make her give in to her own fear, feeling petrified at the mere thought of meeting a fate like Patricia had.

Raziel managed to catch wind of Marie’s escape attempt, yet was too terrified of the consequences to accompany her, and stayed behind. This was something that Raziel forever would feel regret for, as this moment made her realize how much of a coward she truly was for not following Marie in her escape. She never found out if Marie ever managed to escape or not. She could only pray that she did not get caught.

As the days went on, she was one of the few that stood the most in line, thus making her a more favorable slave to them, as they decided to keep her around rather than sell her, keeping her as a servant within the Medici Tower.

As Raziel kept serving the Medici Mafia, she almost felt as if her fear was growing stronger each day, at one point she was beginning to feel as if she was hallucinating as she could have sworn that she could see a black liquid leaking through her body, feeling as if her own shadow had a face smiling back at her, paranoid that there was even voices whispering in her head, getting the strange sensation of something crawling through her veins.

She honestly believed that she was beginning to go mad from the fear and anxiety she was dealing with each day. It caused her work to become less efficient as well, causing her captors to grow less patient with her mistakes.

Raziel wasn’t sure how much more she could handle, until one day she heard the voice speak clearly to her.

It told her that it could grant her the ability to set herself free. If they accepted them, they would allow her to never have to fear anyone again.

Raziel accepted the proposition the voice offered.

Within moments, the crawling in her skin began to intensify, she felt agonizing pain as they felt something attaching itself to Raziel’s body, before suddenly having various black tendrils rip out of her flesh.

There was a face being seen out of one of the tendrils, a face that looked like the ones she saw in her hallucinations. She could also see that the tendrils seemed to be made of a black liquid that seemed capable of transforming into a physical and semi-physical states.

The shadowy tendrils emitting from her body caused carnage to any mafia member that got too close to Raziel as she fled the tower, allowing her to successfully escape from the Medici Mafia.

Once in a more safe location; Raziel managed to soon get some answers from the shadowy demon that was lurking inside of her. He stated that his name was Nightmare. Nightmare was something called a Theon, or as others may more commonly refer to as a Parasite.

Raziel didn’t have any knowledge of what a Parasite was, so she was rightly confused. Whilst Nightmare may have skipped some details about himself, he did promise one thing. So long as he was by her side, nothing could harm her.

Nightmare

I made Nightmare a long time ago; and he’s always been that character that I know has a few oc Taboos such as being an overly edgy character that’s been more of an entity, but..I’ve always had a soft spot for him? So I’ve always kind of reinterpreted him time and time again ^^; I may reuse him for other things but this’ll be describing his skullgirl verse version.

Also I swear he wasn’t made to look like Sampson as I made him before I even saw Fillia or Sampson ^^; I know he has similarities to his design and abilities; though given how little we know about parasites/theons in the skullgirls universe; I feel like it isn’t TOO unreasonable for Parasites to share physical traits by coincidence. Though I have considered playing off this fact of him trying to impersonate Sampson, I figured it’d be easier to play it off as a coincidence for simplicity’s sake

It is entirely possible/optional for Sampson and Leviathan to have heard of him in the past given them being rather old parasites, but it also makes sense given Nightmare’s more secretive methods for them to have never heard of eachother.

Sekhmet is also a potential character that could have met Nightmare in the past; as I think it is possible that they could have had temporary alliances in the past, though I think both of them would be too smart to trust the other as proper friends or teammates given they’d probably know the other wouldn’t hesitate to stab the other in the back.

Abilities

Nightmare’s body is made of a rather bizzare black liquid of some form; yet capable of shifting each bit of it’s slimy form freely, and even capable of hardening itself into a physical or semi-physical shape.

His body is difficult to move without a host however. Even though his body can be split into various pieces, he can still move each part of his detached body remotely; although smaller parts would be slower and less capable; and could not become quite as mobile as his primary ‘body’.

An easy way to describe nightmare’s body would be to refer to the Symbiote from Spiderman; or Ragnarok from Soul Eater in a way.

If he loses more of his mass, he can acquire more mass by feeding on humans. He can either feed on their physical bodies for a more potent effect, or to keep himself stable he can instead just feed simply on either their emotions or parts of their mind.

When attached to a host; he usually lurks within the bloodstream of his Host; with the ‘core’ of his body usually lurking around the host’s brain, where he can leave parts of his body inside of their brain to cause their host to hallucinate.

These hallucinations can allow him to either discreetly communicate with his host, displaying a hallucination of his body to talk to them a bit more properly, or just to cause them to panic (as he finds fear to taste delicious.)

He has a large amount of control over his host’s body, although when he takes control; his hosts usually tend to freak out.

Once he is attached to a host; he is capable of ripping parts of his body out of the host for various attacks, as he is capable of focusing the full potential of his shapeshifting abilities when connected. He can also quickly knit the host’s flesh back together after ripping through it.

However; like all parasites; his host will die whenever he completely disconnects his main core body away from the host.

Backstory

Nightmare is a rather old Parasite; however he will insist to refer to him as a Theon, as he much prefers the title. Nightmare has always been intrigued by the potential of power; and has always grown curious of how great his personal strength could become.

He has lived throughout the years living in the shadows, observing closely the nature of those with much more capable powers than himself, studying the essence of power.

Unlike some of the more merciful Theons; Nightmare rarely felt any sense of bonding towards his hosts. He often referred to mankind as mere livestock, although he always made sure to be cautious to keep his existence secret if possible; as it made his research easier if the world didn’t know about him; preferring if he was left as a myth at best.

He will usually only keep a host around for as long as he deems them useful. Once he deemed a host is no longer suitable for his needs; he will drain their bodies dry; killing them from the inside out before moving onto the next host like a horrific disease.

Throughout the years he’s had more smaller parts of his body scout throughout the world to perform his research; plotting and planning as he wanted to rise in power. Though he hasn’t made as much progress as he would have liked; Nightmare was nothing if not patient.

One day; he had managed to find a human that had a body unlike any other mortal he’s found before. One with an unusual power that was tucked deep inside of her. It was a young child known as Raziel.

Usually he’d rip his way inside of the victim’s body; trying to take the body by force. But the fact her abilities were paranormal; and have not developed yet; he figured this host would need to last longer than any of his other hosts, so he’d have to practice caution not to break her too quickly.

Though with his sadistic nature; he couldn’t help giving her a few teases along the way. Playing with the sanity of mortals was a hobby that has grown into a habit for him; and quite frankly he admired playing with his food.

He even gave her the illusion of choice when he offered to make the connection. He could have connected to her at any moment, but he chose to lead her into a situation where she could not resist saying no to him. Make her believe that the devil was her guardian angel.

Nightmare caused the girl to make mistakes at the most horrific moments, causing her employers to grow less merciful towards her. When she was in her greatest hour of need, that was when he finally spoke to her and made his offer.

Once she accepted, he made the connection official.

Tricking and manipulating the girl was far too easy for him. She was just a stupid prey to him; playing right into his hands.

Tag: #Parasite | Raziel and Nightmare

[comicgeekscomicgeek]

Their Hero Academia – Chapter 52: Aftermath Part 2

Presenting the next raw and unedited chapter of my on-going, next-gen, My Hero Academia fic, Their Hero Academia!

Portions of this installment were written by @msalliepants (the portions featuring Shinji Yoarashi, David Togata, and Shiro Monoma).

Earlier chapters can be found here

As he expected to, Kota found Aizawa in his classroom.  Perhaps it was strange that he still thought of his father-in-law as “Aizawa” and not “Shota” or “Dad”, but if he was pushed to admit it, he still found the man absolutely, pants-wettingly terrifying.  When he talked to him, which was frequently, as they were coworkers, he usually defaulted to “Sir.”

He’d never been entirely sure how much Aizawa actually liked him, despite the fact that he’d been married to his daughter for over ten years.  Of course, considering the first time he’d picked Eri up for a date, he’d been so terrified of Aizawa and his “intimidating dad” routine he’d panicked and punched him in the balls.  That kind of set the tone for their relationship, even if Emi had found it absolutely hilarious.

Kota opened the door to Aizawa’s classroom, where the man was sitting in the dark, staring directly ahead, his sleeping bag laying discarded in one corner of the room.  Aizawa was so still that if he didn’t know better, Kota would have sworn he was dead. He didn’t bother to turn on the lights.

“We’ve been busy on the phones,” he said.  Aizawa didn’t respond or even look his direction.  But he knew the man well enough to know he was always listening, even when he appeared to be ignoring you.  “Checking in with the Agencies.”

He continued.  “I’ve talked to Eri.  She’s fine.  There was a Nomu in one of the areas she had to travel through to get to the hospital, but Can’t Stop Twinkling was there fighting it and Ojiro got her through without it even knowing she was there.”

That, at least, got his attention.   “She took one of my students with her?”

“Ojiro volunteered,” Kota said.  “No combat. Just additional stealth.”

Aizawa frowned.  “I thought she had more sense than that.”

“Desperate times,” he replied.  He wasn’t particularly happy with it himself, but he hadn’t been happy about his wife going out into that insanity to begin with.  But Kota had known Eri long enough to know there was no arguing with her when she’d made up her mind.  It didn’t do any good in the long run and he always ended up sleeping on the couch for at least a week.

There was a long moment of silence, then Aizawa spoke again.  “My children trusted me with theirs, and I let them go out into this insanity.  Nemuri even joked that their Internships couldn’t possibly have been as bad as that of the Problem Child and his friends.  I guess the joke’s on us.”

“Deku and everyone,” Kota said, “they know the kinds of things that can happen in this life. This isn’t your fault.”   That didn’t get him a response.

Aizawa was still staring at him, so he continued.  “The kids are all alive.”  He didn’t use the word “fine,” because almost all of them had been caught up in the Nomu insanity.  “Fine” wasn’t a word you used after something like that.  Kota understood.  He and Eri both had their share of nightmares from their own traumatic childhood experiences.

Kota went on.  “Midoriya, Todoroki, Haimawari, Aoyama, Shoji, Ojiro, both Iidas, Sero, Sato, and Kocho are all uninjured, though some of them saw varying degrees of action.  Tokoyami was hurt earlier in the week and wasn’t anywhere near any of the action and Koda was too far out with Froppy and the Oki Mariner to be involved.”

That was the good news. The rest, well, it got increasingly worse.

“Mineta received a few minor scrapes from falling rubble, but is otherwise okay.  Kaminari is being treated for Quirk Exhaustion after overloading her brain powering a weapon Creati made.”

That got another glare. He suspected Yaoyorozu would be getting an earful.

“Kirishima-Bakugo is being treated for exhaustion as well.  She was directly involved in fighting one of the Nomu protecting Uravity, and then had a poor reaction to seeing her father injured.”

The intensity of Aizawa’s stare increased and Kota actually found himself taking a step back.  He wasn’t a stupid man and what Kota was leaving blank was blindingly obvious.  Aizawa actually got up out of his chair, moving closer to him.  “You’re hedging around something.  What are you hiding?  Get to it.”

“Shota Shinso was there when Ground Zero fought the Nomu.  He saw everything.  He was nearly catatonic by the time Deku got them to the hospital.  They’ve admitted him for observation.”

Aizawa stared at him, a twitch forming in his left eye, his mouth set in a hard line.  “Get out of my way,” he snapped, already shoving past Kota and out into the hallway.

Kota just stared at the empty room for a moment.  “…That actually went better than I thought it would.”

***

Haru Shima had had a busy morning.  When word of the Nomu attacks had gone out, he’d gone straight to the hospital where he worked.  They didn’t live far from it and his Quirk was more than adequate protection against anything that might have been out there.  They’d have plenty of incoming, he knew, and would need all hands on deck, especially if any Heroes were injured.  His husband had already left for the day and would be in the thick of it. Their son had been out there too, working with Cellophane.

He’d forced himself not to think about them, but left strict instructions that, unless he was in the middle of surgery, he was to be contacted if either of them were brought in. And then Izuku had brought Katsuki in, torn to pieces and losing blood fast…

He’d done what he could. Haru was an excellent surgeon, but there were limits, and the damage had been severe.  Not a clean cut, but a mutilation, with damage to the surrounding bone, muscle, and nerves.  That Katsuki hadn’t died was a minor miracle.

He’d been lucky.   Yuga had sustained only minor injuries and would be released today.  Takiyo was fine.  Hanta had bought him time to escape to the relative safety of the Agency.  His son wasn’t exactly happy about having been forced out of the fight, but Haru had detected the fear in his voice when he’d finally been able to speak to him.  

And, of course, he’d had a million texts from Haruko.  Haruko was like him, the only other one in the group of Class A and their spouses who wasn’t at least tangentially involved in Hero work.  Mei was… a delightful, if eccentric woman, but she was closer to it than either of them.   He only tended to see Heroes when they were injured.  So he and Haruko often chatted and talked, often with Monoma’s wife as well, who was also a civilian.

But finally, it all seemed to have abated and he could go home.   At soon as he picked up his husband, anyway.   He pushed open the door to Yuga’s room.  And he stared.  He closed his eyes and counted to ten.  Unfortunately, the sight that greeted him was still the same.

“Yuga,” he said, peering between his fingers, “why do you have a paper bag on your head?”

“I am hideous now, Haru,” Yuga said.  His accent was thicker, the way it always was when he was trying to solicit more sympathy out him.  He placed one hand on the bag; it crinkled under his fingers.  “I must hide my face away from prying eyes, lest my unsightly visage insight the people to riot.”

Visions of Yuga in an opera cloak and a half-mask, badly trying to playing a pipe organ he’d somehow managed to get into their apartment while fog machines spewed their fog, danced in Haru’s mind.  This was going to be the first grey hair all over again.

“Yuga,” he said, “you’re fine.  You got your nose broken.  It was a clean break, it got set in time, and you won’t even have any scars.”

“Non, non, I am hideous, cut down in my prime, Haru.  I can only pray you will not leave me for someone you can bear to look at…”

The things he put up with for the man he loved…

***

Haruto Sero was aware that, even in the world of Quriks, he and his family were an odd looking brood. While his older brother, Takuma, resembled their mother, minus the horns, he mostly looked like their dad, only with horns.  His younger brothers, Yamoto and Ren, were no different.  Yamoto mostly looked like Tamuka, and Ren mostly looked like their dad, except for being blue.  Their little sister, Moji, looked like dark-haired version of Mom.  So the number of eyes that were briefly on them when they entered the cafeteria wasn’t surprising.  But like they always did, the gazes fell just as quickly.

Who knew what the twins would look like?  Mom hadn’t done herself any good getting all stressed and worried about Dad earlier, but both she and the babies were fine now.

Dad was in a… not great way. He’d taken a nasty blow to the head from the Nomu, saved from bigger injuries only by his helmet.  If he hadn’t had that, he’d probably have suffered brain damage.  And he’d probably have been dead if Shoto hadn’t shown up.

While Mom stayed with him, she’d charged Takuma with getting the rest of them something to eat from the cafeteria.  He’d looked less than happy to have his thirteen, eleven, nine, and two year old siblings with him.   Considering he’d once tried to sell Moji to Uncle Rikido, this wasn’t exactly a surprise.

Takuma gestured in the general direction of some tables.  “Yamoto, Ren, take Moji and get us a table.  Me and Haruto will get food.”  He wasn’t looking up from his phone, where he was texting furiously.  Maybe his boyfriend?  Or maybe Kenta and Kimiko?   Haruto didn’t know.

As Takuma went to get real food, he told Haruto to get some drinks.  So he stood in front of the drink case, trying to decide what he should get.  Mom honestly didn’t give a crap about what she ate, always indulging them in their wishes for pop and candy.  It may have explained the number of cavities he’d had over the years.

His eyes widened as a bottle of water floated its way out of the case.  He followed it to where a green-haired girl about his age was standing, phone in her other hand.  Of course she’d be here.  Her mom had gotten hurt too.  And her dad had rescued Ground Zero.  So yeah, no surprise.  Of course. He needed to say something. Something smooth?  No, not the time for that.  Just keep it normal.  Don’t let on that she’s the girl he really liked.

“Hana?” he asked, his voice cracking.  Dammit, puberty!  Why can’t you be cool?

Hana Midoriya looks up from her phone at that.  “Oh, Haruto. Hey.”  She pockets the phone and catches the Quirk-drawn water bottle in her hand.  “How’s your dad?”

“He’s gonna be fine,” he said.  “Took a nasty blow to the head, but he’s fine.  How’s your mom?”

“Same,” Hana replied. “Dad sent us down here to get food. Put King Dork in charge.”  She pointed over to a table—where Yamoto and the others were too—where her older brother, Toshi, and younger sister, Mako were sitting.   Mako gave them a friendly wave, then went back to cooing over Moji.

“Hey, little bro,” Takuma said, coming up behind him, carrying a heavily laden tray, “you getting drinks or not?”    His dark-eyes fell on Hana and recognition dawned on his face.   “Oh, talking to your crush?  Guess those can wait then.”  He chuckled and walked off.

Haruto felt his face go flush with embarrassment.  He was absolutely going to kill his brother!

***

Tsukushi Monoma has long adjusted to being the wife of a Hero. And really, she's more than happy to be supportive of everything that Neito has done in his career. Especially when he was first starting out and struggling. She's made her own Phantom Thief clothes for her and both of their children. She is her husband's biggest cheerleader, and she couldn't be prouder of him and all of his accomplishments.

But there are some days where she wishes that Neito had maybe pursued another career. Today is one of those days.

She had been making lunch for her youngest child, Takeru. They had been chatting to Tsukushi about the new book they were reading, and Tsukushi has been actively engaging in the conversation with them. Takeru was more reserved than Shiro, but they always talked to Tsukushi about the books they were reading.

The television was on in the background. She hadn't really been paying attention, until she noticed that Takeru was looking at the screen, a horrified look on their face.

Concern flashed across Tsukushi's face. "What's the matter, sweetheart?!

Takeru did speak. They just pointed at the screen. Tsukushi turned to face the television.

She wished she didn't.

"Reports of Nomu attacks are coming in from across Tokyo. Heroes are rushing to the scene, including Deku, Red Riot and Real Steel, Phantom Thief, Ground Zero, Shoto, and Lemillion."

Tsukushi's face paled. She'd heard enough about Nomus from Neito to know that they were absolutely horrifying and near impossible to fight. And her husband was out there, fighting them.

Wait...one of the heroes that the reporter had mentioned had been Red Riot. Shiro! Her son was out there, too, fighting these creatures! Of course, Eijiro lived across the street, and was a good friend, and she knew that Shiro was in good hands with Tetsutesu, but she couldn't help but feel worried about her son.

Tsukushi didn't even notice that she shattered the glass in her hand.

"Mom?" Takeru's voice brought her back down to earth. "Are you okay"

Shattered glass was on the floor. Luckily, she hadn't cut her hand up badly, which was good. Just a couple of cuts, and it didn't seem that there were any pieces of glass in her skin. So she wouldn't have to go to the emergency room.

She managed to give them a small smile. "I'm fine, sweetie. I'm just..."

"I'm scared too, Mom."

She wrapped her youngest in a hug. "I can shut it off, if you want."

Takeru shook their head. "No, we can keep it on. I...I want to make sure that Dad and Shiro are safe."

Tsukushi nodded. "Okay."

***

Tsukushi was driving to the hospital, trying to keep her hands steady at the wheel. She'd gotten the call from Kana, Neito was in the hospital. He was going to be fine, but he had at least two broken ribs, and a hairline fracture in his arm. She'd also been informed that Shiro had been admitted too, but he appeared to be fine.

Takeru had a constant pillar of support. They were wise beyond their six years, and Tsukushi was glad that they were with her through everything. She could tell that her youngest was scared, too, but trying to keep a tough face for her.

She pulled into the hospital parking lot. "You ready?"

In a rare show of psychical contact, Takeru extended their hand to her. "Ready."

Hand in hand, she walked hand in hand into the hospital with her youngest.

***

"Oh thank /goodness/ you're safe!" Tsukushi wrapped Shiro in the tightest hug, kissing his cheek.

"Mom!" Shiro blushed. "I'm fine!"

Tsukushi brushed a stray strand of hand out of her son's forehead. "I know, I was just very worried."

Shiro flushed a little. "I'm sorry, Mom."

"Sweetheart, you have nothing to apologize for. You know I couldn't be prouder or more supportive of you wanting to be a hero. Worrying about you is just something I'll always do, whether you're fifteen or fifty." She kissed the top of his head.

Shiro looked down. "I was so scared, Mom."

Tsukushi gave her son an understanding smile. "I know, sweetheart. And that's okay. Everyone gets scared sometimes."

Shiro nodded. Tsukushi squeezed his hand. "Now let's go check on your father, okay?"

***

"Neito!" It took everything Tsukushi had to not run and embrace her husband. She'd seen him beaten up before, but nothing like this.

Neito offered her and the kids a small smile. "Ah, there's my wonderful family."

Tsukushi gave him a smile. "Your wonderful family is just glad to see you safe."

"Oh?" He smiled at her playfully. "Did I worry you?"

She laughed. "Yes, you did, and you are never allowed to do that again."

Neito smiled at her. "I'll try my best."

Tsukushi smiled. Her family, while a little beaten up, was safe. And that was all she could ask for.

***

Shinji was standing outside of Katsumi's hospital room, anxiously fidgeting with his fingers. He didn't regret leaving Shiketsu the sudden way that he did, but from how Red Riot had explained it to him, he still had to call his parents. That was what made him nervous. His father, the number eight hero, Gale Force, had to be on the hero, as Shinji knew that his dad would have jumped into action the second the attack happened. Which likely meant that his mother, the number fourteen hero, Hurricane, had been with him.

Shinji didn't know which one was scarier. His dad was a pretty happy, loud, outgoing, cheerful guy for the most part, and his mother, while more reserved, was usually fairly calm and easygoing. However, seeing them angry was something he wasn't looking forward to.

Shinji sighed, just as Red Riot stepped out of the room after talking to Katsumi. The hero gave him a smile, and patted him on the shoulder.

"I don't know if I told you this, but what you did was pretty manly."

Shinji perked up, smiling widely at him "It was?"

Red Riot slapped him on the back. "Hell yeah! Rushing off to make sure your friends were okay is really manly! However, you don't have a hero license, so you were risking a lot. But you saved my little girl! I talked to your parents, and made clear to tell them that, so hopefully, they go easy on you."

Shinji laughed. "Yeah... hopefully."

Red Riot gave him a hug. "I gotta go check on my husband, but feel free to hang here until your parents get here, okay?"

Shinji nodded, not really having any words for once in his life. "Yeah, okay."

***

Shinji managed to track down Izzy, Mika, and Shota while he waited for his parents. Izzy, while exhausted, was fine. Mika had gotten a couple of bruises, but said that he could give her a full body inspection if he wanted to. Unfortunately, her parents arrived and kicked him out before he could. As for Shota, well, Shinji couldn't remember ever seeing his little friend so upset. Shinji hated that there didn't seem to be anything he could do to keep him from blaming himself for what happened to Ground Zero.

Shinji was making his way to check on Katsumi again when he felt a gust of wind, and found himself being locked into a hug, and picked off up the ground.

"I AM SO ANGRY AND PROUD OF YOU!" Dad's voice bellowed in his ears, setting him down.

Shinji took a moment to catch his breath, looking at his father, who appeared to be smiling...while also fighting an eye twitch.

"Hey, Dad," Shinji said sheepishly. "I know that probably wasn't the smartest idea, but I was so worried about my girlfriend and my friends and I-"

His father laughed, whacking him on the back. "I SHOULD BE FLYING IN RAGE AT YOU FOR DOING SOMETHING SO RECKLESS BUT YOU SAVED KATSUMI! I AM FILLED WITH FATHERLY PRIDE!"

Shinji beamed. Dad was proud of him. That meant he wasn't going to get in trouble, right?

He spoke too soon.

"SHINJI YOARASHI!"

An angry female voice came from the hallway, and peaking around Dad, Shinji could see his mother, Sakura, walking towards them. Though she was significantly shorter than the both of them, the look in her eyes was one of pure rage.

Oh, she was /pissed/.

Dad laughed putting an arm around Mom's shoulder. "Now, Sakura, I was just telling Shinji how proud we are of him, and how we're not angry."

Mom gave Dad a /look/. "Oh, we're mad."

"Okay, we're mad...but he's not in trouble!"

Mom narrowed her eyes. "Oh, he's in trouble." She turned her gaze to Shinji. "You. Are. GROUNDED."

Shinji looked at his feet, feeling like he was suddenly five years old. "Yes, Mom."

Dad laughed. "But honey, he saved Katsumi, and we should be proud!"

Mom's face softened a little bit. "Of course I'm proud. Shinji, what you did was very brave However, what you did was also reckless and stupid. You're just a student, and you don't have a hero license yet. You could've been arrested. You could've gotten yourself and Katsumi seriously hurt or killed. These kinds of actions have to consequences, so for you're grounded for two months."

Shinji gasped. "Two months?!"

"Do you want your original punishment? Because it was going to be a year on my way over here."

"Two months is fine."

Mom smiled, wrapping him in a hug. "I thought so. Now, I'll let you say goodbye to your friends, but after that, we're leaving. Okay?"

Shinji nodded. He could take being grounded. In the end, he knew he did the right thing helping his friends when they needed him.

***

David Togata doesn't get worried easily. His parents often said that out of his siblings, he was the most rational. He's seen his father and his Uncle Izuku get injured a fair amount of times, and they always made it looked like it wasn't something to really worry about. No matter how bad things got, you just carried on with a smile.

David wasn't smiling right now. He had been in the workshop with Ms. Hatsume as part of his support internship when the news about the Nomu attacks came in. Right away, the pair had turned on the television, where shots of Dad and Uncle Izuku fighting them came in. Dad looked like his hand had been broken, and Uncle Izuku looked more stressed out that he'd even seem him.

Actually, David had never seen either one of them looked stress.

Shots panned in and out of different heroes around the city fighting the Nomus. His oldest brother, Tamaki, fighting the Nomus with The Voice and Glamour, his body cackling with green energy. His sister, Nejire, with the Laughing Man, downtown.

Ms. Hatsume stared at the screen, her face pale. "My babies..."

That was right. Both of her children, the twins, were out doing their internships, as well. So was her husband.

David reach forward and grabbed her hand. They were going to have a rough couple of hours.

***

David arrived at the hospital with Ms. Hatsume. They gotten reports that her husband had been admitted, along with David's father and siblings. None of them had any major injuries, but still, the worry was present. When they got in the lobby, Ms. Hatsume gave him a quick hug and wished him luck, before rushing off to find his family.

David found his family in a hospital room where his sister was being treated. His father had his broken hand wrapped up. Tamaki had a few scratches, but that quirk of his made him really sturdy. Nejire was in the bed, her ankle elevated and in a cast, and a bandage around her head. His mother sat next her on the bed, stroking her hair.

Dad beamed at him. "David!" He sprung up from his seat and wrapped him in a hug. "It looks like the whole family is here now!"

David smiled, returning the hug. "I came with Ms. Hatsume." He looked over at Nejire. "What happened to your ankle?"

Nejire giggled. "It's nothing! It's just a little broken. And I might have gotten a teeny tiny concussion."

Tamaki smirked at him. "Nejire's on painkillers. She's super loopy right now."

"I am not!" Nejire pouted at him.

David rolled his eyes. His siblings were ridiculous sometimes. "Glad no one got super injured."

Mom smiled. "That's the best we can hope for. Everyone's a little singed up, but we'll be okay.'

Nejire giggled again. "Well, I better heal up soon, because I cannot take Hayai on the date with my ankle like this."

At the word "date", Dad's eyes lit up. "Ooooooh, you got a date!?"

David laughed. Dad was constantly trying to set all three of them up with someone.

Nejire started going on about a girl in her class she'd asked out. Tamaki and Mom laughed, teasing Dad about being too involved in his kids' love life.

David smiled, finding a chair and relaxing into it. Yeah, his family could be a little much sometimes, but he wouldn't trade them for anything, and he was glad they were safe.

***

Izuku was tired, bone wearily tired.  Not from the physical exertion of the morning—the power of One for All made sure of that.  He was connected to it on a level not even All Might had ever achieved and had had ample opportunity to build its power over the years.  Certainly, his joints ached.  They always did.  And his right arm always hurt, no matter what else he did.  Even with his mastery of his inherited Quirk, the old damage he’d done to his body could not be undone.  But he had learned to live with that pain, to smile and to embrace all the good that was in his life.

That was not why he was tired.

No, he was tired in ways that went way beyond the physical.  

Ochaco was resting peacefully in the hospital bed.  They’d allowed her to be up to check on Katsumi, but insisted she get more rest. She’d taken a nasty blow to the head, but was expected to make a full recovery and be back in action in maybe a couple weeks.  He’d sent Toshi, Hana, and Mako down to the cafeteria to get something to eat, leaving him alone to sit by her bedside, alone with his thoughts.

He wore scrubs, offered by the hospital, since his costume had been covered in blood.  Someone from his agency had collected it for cleaning. Either that or he’d handed it off to someone who was now selling it on MeBay.  Things had been a bit of a blur after he’d arrived.

It looked like there were going to be a lot of people home in their neighborhood, at least for a time.   Denki, Ochaco, Neito, and, of course, Kacchan…  And more across the city.  So many of his friends had been hurt.

There were burdens that came with being the Number One (and occasionally Number Two, when Mirio had a particularly impressive run of things) Hero.  And there were burdens that came with being the Symbol of Hope.   Not the Symbol of Peace, like Dad had been, but the Symbol of Hope.  Of inspiring others to believe, not in him, but that evil could be beaten and that good men and women could stand up, that everyone had the potential within them to make the world a better place, in some way.  It demanded much of his time, exposed his family to significant scrutiny.

Before he had finished his third year of U.A., he and his friends had broken the back of the League of Villains and put an end to the legacy of All for One forever.  The same year he had lost his father in a plane crash. It had been a hell of a year.  But it had also rocketed him towards the top on a meteoric trajectory that he still couldn’t believe, even decades later.

They’d built a better world. One where the threat of Villains was not so constant.  They’d settled down, raised families, and looked to the future of a new generation of Heroes.

In an instant, when the Nomu had appeared, the fears of childhood had returned.  They had suspected that someone was making a play for power.  The Quirk Virus, the theft of the Nomu corpse, the breaking of Plague out of prison (Had he so badly misjudged the man?  An escape made no sense at all…), it all added up to something far more sinister and larger than any of them had grappled with in years.  

And then the messages and reports had started pouring in.  From various Agency dispatches, from news drones, even from men and women on the street.  It hadn’t just been the one.  It had been so many more.  The Heroes of Tokyo and surrounding wards had come together to fight the Nomu, but they had paid a terrible price for it.    So many of his friends were injured.  Even Ochaco…   And Kacchan…

Despite what he had told himself as a child and a teenager, he and Kacchan had not always been friends. It had taken him a long time to realize the way he’d been treated had been far from okay.  But the two of them had made true amends and become real friends. He’d even been Kacchan’s best man at his wedding.

So many of their children had seen action during the morning’s events.  They’d been extraordinarily lucky that none of them had been seriously injured.  Not like their own Internships.  But almost all of them had been far too close to the action for his comfort.  Toshi claimed he was fine, but Izuku suspected he was putting on a brave face. And Haimawari and Kocho didn’t even have the kind of context Toshi did.  He hoped they weren’t scared off.  There was so much potential in both of them.

He, his friends, and the other Heroes who had taken their children on as Interns were handing them back to U.A. a broken group.  But he knew Aizawa and the staff would do what they could for them.  His alma mater took the mental health of its students very seriously now.  As parents, they would do their part too.  They had lived through experiences just as terrifying.  Maybe their words of wisdom would be enough.

The news was saying that he had saved the city this morning.  And maybe he had.  But he hadn’t been there for his friend when it had mattered most.  Hadn’t been there for a lot of his friends when they’d been hurt.  For his wife.  What was the point of having all this power, of being a Hero, if he couldn’t help those closest to him when it really mattered?

They would all tell him that he couldn’t, shouldn’t be everywhere.  That was the kind of thinking that had lead society to depend upon Dad more than it should have and had made it vulnerable when he’d no longer been capable of being that pillar.  And yes, it was likely his actions had kept Kacchan from dying in the streets.  That probably would have broken poor Shota even more than he already was.

What kind of Hero, what kind of Symbol was he, if an evil great enough to do all this still existed?

It didn’t mean he didn’t feel like a failure all the same.

Like…

It made him feel like…

Like a useless deku.

[edvonstein]

So, since I am starting this year apparently by binge listening to Kirby metal remixes, and I just listened to Sullied Grace, my brain got to thinking: Queen Sectonia is really just a Precure villain, a villain who looks some level of fabulous, is absorbed in an emotion (vanity and possibly loneliness in her case) has her general out doing the work for her, successfully brings the planet to the brink of destruction despite being defeated already, and culminates in a final battle in the skies above the planet with the moon lighting the battle, and everybody working to help give the pink one the boost they need to win, even a redeemed enemy general joining in, and it all ending with the pink turning the villain’s own worst weapon against her. And then I realized that Haltmann Works is literally just Labyrinth.

So my brain is currently stuck on the prospect of rewriting the entire Kirby franchise as a Precure series. We have Kirby as the Pink Leader of course, not the brightest bulb in the room, but filled with near limitless potential, and a knack for turning her enemies strength against them. (I mean with Kirby’s Suplex and Throw abilities, it’s not too far a stretch to give the Cure version a mastery in Judo.)

Then King Dedede as the red cure, passionate, selfish, and will roll over those that are in her way, but will pucker up and clobber whatever evil needs a clobbering. Starts out incredibly annoyed at the Pink, but by the end they are thick as (food)thieves.

Meta Knight is the most cursed Purple naturally, always challenging Pink to be stronger, and looking to atone for the evils wrought by his blade in the past. (Former wannabe world conqueror with the Cure powers after all.)

And Bandana Waddle Dee joins in as the Blue (or maybe Yellow) one, An unassuming Cure people first don’t think is a threat until in a casual contest Blue turns out to be able to completely match the raw power of Pink somehow. Acting as the support of the team, Blue’s strongest feature, aside from the super strength is the absolute loyalty to all the team members. Which is a problem considering how often they are at each others’ throats.

Prolly a dumb idea, but I’ll keep rolling it around me nogging a bit.

A pitch for the Dreamland adaption:

Queen Deedeedee (I never said I was good with names) was the chosen Cure, was given powers, able to clear tall buildings in a single leap, and suplex trains, so she crafted herself a jet powered hammer and took to cleaning up the small town of the setting, doing a surprisingly good job and getting organized crime under control, and the government cleared of corruption... and then cleared of people, installing herself as the new ruler of the town, which she’d run with a... I’d say, Iron Fist, but honestly, she mostly goes around smacking a few people upside the head when they acted up.

She mostly just basks in her glory now and let’s the town run itself, which ... works well enough. Until for some reason she suddenly demanded massive tributes from the town for her protection, or else.

That’s when the mascots had enough, and found Kirby (apparently that name is unisex? Useful. Then again, canonically Kirby is genderless, and we in English kinda just defaulted to male because of course we did.) a girl from much simpler origins (say, an immigrant girl trying to make ends meet in this new world to her, living in a small house on the outskirts of the town) than the last cure who was an “Ohohoho” ojousama even before given super powers. (Going with a monarch model for the fairies to explain that, like Mepple and Mipple) Kirby will have to fight her way solo through Queen Deedeedee’s cabinet she installed upon reaching power.

There’s Whispy Woods, an unnaturally tall men who’s cracked skin looks like wood (which it turns out to be.) He is in charge of agriculture and had installed a large apple orchard next to where Kirby lives. This was fine until the Queen decided she didn’t like the small dent in the otherwise perfectly square orchard layout, which is the place Kirby’s house is and sent Whispy in to... take care of that little issue.

Next up are Lolo and Lala, the only two humans left on the cabinet, whom the Queen saw potential in and hired as city planners. They did good work, the Butter Building their proudest achievement, a skyscraper that is made of affordable housing mixed in with small stores throughout. But the Queen took notice of Whispy’s defeat and told them to lure this... troublemaker in and deal with her. The two didn’t like it, but lured her to their mansion, which they kitted out with plenty of traps...

Then comes Kaboola. She is the head of security under the new Queen, and supervises the town from a small army of blimps patrolling the sky. Little is known about her, but she appears to personally reside on a small island just off the coast of the town. And she has the access codes to the Queen’s citadel, the skyscraper at the center of town which of course has to house the villain. Kaboola is of course aware of Kirby’s antics, but she has not yet acted on them because she too senses something wrong with the way the Queen is acting, and after the defeat of Whispy and Lolo and Lala, she decided to test her...

Due to events that transpired on Kaboola’s island, Kirby finds herself not only unable to access the Queen’s citadel, but also facing her personal body guard, Kracko, who turned out to literally be all the clouds in the sky. A violent storm brews over the city as Kracko prepares to defend their mistress, and Kirby decides that if she can’t get into the tower, she will just have to go up the tower the hard way, and a clash along the side of a skyscraper is about to occur as Kirby fights the very heavens themselves, to reach the Queen, and make her come to her senses again...

[the-beskar-alchemist]

Billy’s Baby

Buckle up buttercups, because I have a lot of feelings and I can't seem to control my brain's obsessiveness with Billy and his relationship with/mentality towards his little mean machine, so here's a bit of a "Character Analysis" starring a certain Camaro and its mullet-wearing human.

(I want to include some of the other characters, besides immediate family, but I think I'll save that for a headcanon post. More specifically I want to elaborate on Billy/Neil vs Billy/Hop/Joyce in terms of how he is with the car).

Here are some somethings I've noticed:

1) Billy doesn't appear to want to put too much money into anything cosmetic. Basically he's not eager to "pimp" his ride, only maintain the upkeep.  Granted he's probably working on a budget, and that's absolutely my headcanon....but only HALF of it. Do you know what costs more money than parts? Cigarettes.  If he's buying a pack or more a day, that money adds up, he could be spending hundreds of dollars a year, maybe more depending on the brand. I get the feeling that he's not interested in making his car look like a starlet, but he does value its appearance enough to keep it clean.

2) While he's not interested in a Fast and Furious worthy look, he's not eager to do damage on any cosmetic/mechanical level.  Yes in S2 he threatens to run over the boys, but honestly that felt like a bluff to test Max's loyalty to Hawkins (and the boys by default). Repairs (on the surface or below) cost money, which Billy is struggling to get.  He'll keep the fluids check/changed, the tank as full as financially possible, and the car washed, but he's not going to bust his ass to prove a point.  The engine is running, it gets him from A to B, and that's his main goal.

3) This car is a personal thing for him, it's his safe-space, fuck how anyone else feels about it. It's a point of focus for him, or at least one of the top 5 things that gives his life meaning.  It's not THE most important thing, honestly he could live without it if necessary, but he's not eager to part with his baby.  It's something that's JUST his, and no one else's. It's something he can claim that wasn't touched by Neil and has no connection with that deadbeat WHATSOEVER. Basically it's not TAINTED, and he loves that.  While he may bear a few scars from his life with his father, the car is unscathed, and that matters to him.

4) Why yes it is a chick-magnet, why do you ask? It has a V-8 engine that'll scare anyone standing too close when he gives it a nice rev before taking off.  He's done a few burn-outs, donuts, he's street-raced a few times hoping to win so he can get some serious cash, but a wheelie? He's afraid to try, he's heard stories, but the idea of raising up off the ground and feeling the roar of the engine beneath him? Makes his heart race.  When he first got the car people started to notice him, he wasn't "just Billy" anymore, he was Bad Boy Billy with the cool car.  The girls would flock to him just before he climbed inside and gave the engine a spin, they were drawn to the power of that engine more than Billy, but he didn't mind.  It's only when Max climbs into the car that he's reminded why he got the car in the first place, less than a year before they moved.  The girls are a nice bonus, but you can't put a price on freedom.

5) He's a teenager so obviously he enjoys having the option to leave the house if he needs to.  That's always the dream right, once you get your license? The car was only ever meant to be a way to escape, but it inevitably became a moving hotel room during those dark times.  When Neil would lose his shit and put his hands on Billy, forcing him out the door because he "was getting sick of his shit", and Billy had nowhere to go......his baby was the one to give him a place to rest.  Hell if he ever made it out of this shithole he just might live in the car for a while until he got back on his feet. But leaving Max would be the hardest part, because without Billy in the house Neil had to turn to SOMEONE to vent his anger.  But those nights when he curled up in the backseat (the front seat just wasn't that comfortable to lay on), usually with only his jacket to keep him warm, Billy couldn't help but think about the open road that would lead to a place far, far away from Hawkins.

6) While Billy is capable as a self-taught (ish) mechanic, he's not AS incline as he could be. It's not that he doesn't care to learn, he truly does, enough that he's snuck books out of the local library just so he could figure out what the hell was making that racket that one time he couldn't get the car to start. His lack of a teacher is the issue, and Billy sure as HELL won't go to his dad asking for help.  The one time he did, Neil scoffed and snapped back with an "It's your fucking car, you fix it", before shoving past Billy to leave the house.  Billy didn't ask again.  What he's learned was "on the go", purely a trial-and-error situation, he doesn't stop until he figures it out. He once spent HOURS trying to fix the car (there was a blockage in the fuel-line and the car wouldn't stay cranked), by the end of it all he was very tired. But knowing he'd taken care of the problem HIMSELF only fueled his confidence, and elevated him to a kind of high no woman or drug could ascend him. He slept like a baby that night.

7) Where did he get this car anyway? If he's strapped for cash how did he afford it? Well in my personal opinion Billy "earned" the car by working for the previous owner.  When he was still living in California, he went for a walk on the beach, a little further than he usually did.  He came across a beach house, and the Camaro was parked in a shed. He only noticed it because the breeze had caused a corner of the tarp covering it to flap, kind of like it was waving, and underneath a singular headlight caught the light from the sunset and nearly blinded him.  The man that owned it said it was his son's car before, but he died in Vietnam, and he didn't have the heart to drive it.  Long story short Billy worked out a deal to pay off the car little by little.  During this time the old man told him a thing or two about how to take care of it, what oil to use, what wax worked the best, etc.  By the time Billy had the car in his possession, they had to move to Indiana.  His biggest fear was the car breaking down before he could make it there.  He'd enjoyed his time with the old man, even bonded a little, it still hurts to this day knowing he had to leave it all behind.  He had started to really like the guy.

8) Obviously Neil isn't too fond of his son's car, he's complained about it leaving oil stains in the driveway, how Billy parks it at the house, when it's blocked the other cars (it wasn't even close to being in the way, Neil just sucks at backing up).  Neil once backed into the Camaro while leaving the house, and Billy flipped his shit, but Neil wasn't having that. He threatened to have the car towed away if Billy didn't start parking where he "was supposed to". Billy didn't argue at that point, he wasn't sure if Neil would follow-through or not, but a tow was expensive so it wasn't worth the risk.  Of course Neil DOES shut up for the most part, resorting to saving his complaints for his most "unfavorable" moments, why? Because of Max. As long as Billy has a car, Max has a chauffeur, so she's out of Neil's and Susan's hair at least THAT much.  As long as Billy has a car, Max is not their problem, so he'll shut up about it enough to avoid losing that loophole.

This turned out a LOT longer than I'd originally planned, sorry for the length, but I have so many thoughts popping into my head so I'm trying to get them all out or I'll get restless lol.

[werezmastarbucks]

The Good One

in which you are the only one who makes Bucky fall asleep for some reason.

warnings: Buck’s depressed but it okei

word count: 1366

Bucky Barnes x reader

adding my taglist for Flame for one here bc you guys are the only thing I got

taglist: @moistpotatobear   @heytherepartner   @sebbytrash @thewinterher0   @lbouvet   @areuforreal   @allofthesearetakendafuq @thesalsafic  @rhaeneris 

It was getting pretty obvious that Bucky wasn’t okay. Not like he was ever completely fine, but these days he was having it especially hard, and, though pretty understandable, it was unbearable nonetheless. He started to go off on others, yelled at Sam over one of his stunts, and became very  short-tempered with Steve. And if Sam always had it coming, him being the biggest irritator for Barnes ever, Steve definitely didn’t deserve it. Bucky was trying to be good, the good guy, the good one. But he simply couldn’t sleep.

First week he was holding up alright; like Rogers, he did not really need eight hours’ rest every night thanks to all advances his body and brain overcame through the years. He was now more of a flesh cyborg, almost invincible, everlasting and collected. Cyborg my ass.

On the second week he became hectic and exhausted, his face went greyish, and he was losing it pretty quickly. Insomnia wasn’t anything new for him; sometimes he preferred it to nightmares that waited for him should he dream a little. But complete lack of rest, the ache in the muscles, and sleepless brooding, the migraine, the uneasiness, the dizziness that came with it would turn anybody into a monster. The drained mind was about to eat itself, turning the remaining energy into the dark matter. Bucky didn’t tell anyone that he couldn’t fall asleep, smiling darkyishly to himself at the thought of close death. No one can live and not sleep. He was still partially a human – more than he used to think, even. After several nights of agony by the end of the second week, after he dozed a little only to be woken by sudden electric zip his own brain charged into him, he felt like the humanest human alive. And he didn’t really want to die, but… like, he didn’t have a choice.

He tried to take pills, and he stopped drinking coffee, and by the night time he would disappear to his room, leaving everyone silently concerned; he would walk a lot alone to get as much fresh air as he could. Nothing helped. He was thinking about trying to knock himself unconscious, and then couldn’t stop laughing. Steve found him gagging from the laughter, and his brave face went so white you could draw on it. Everyone knew what’s happening to him; Y/N looked sad. Nat was frowning sometimes, when he didn’t look. Benner looked lost; this guy grew wary of his mood swings, and Bucky would honestly feel guilty about it if he weren’t so numb. Stark did something no one expected: he reached to him and tried to help. He called Barnes a broken robot and gave his head a powerful charge. Bucky fell asleep right in the lab. It smelt like plastic and water there for some reason. He never felt better in his life. For twenty minutes. After that his body shook violently again, like it usually does when you dream about tripping on stairs or falling over. Bucky Barnes didn’t want Bucky Barnes to sleep, or to survive. Tony gave him a bottle of that disgusting green smoothie that smelt like dill and lime. Bucky thanked him with all he had and poured it down the sink. He was almost done.

 You were watching news really quietly. You wanted to see what’s happening, but didn’t really want to know. The living room was a great space, and you never really felt completely comfortable there, but the TV set here was the best. The bent-inside screen itself was fascinating. Had it not been for the other people at the compound, walking around, looking, seeing things, you’d spend a lot of time just staring at yourself in this blackness. Modern art for one person. If you can appreciate that kind of thing.

Barnes landed on the couch near you barely acknowledging your existence. God wasn’t he massive. He stretched his legs and pouted at nothing, his eyes moving lazily while he was looking at the TV. He had those black bags under the eyes, and his face was now peaked. He hasn’t shaved in four days. He looked miserable. You realized you didn’t take the problem too seriously up until now – the idea of something so simple as insomnia, so random and physical, so typical for people like all you, ruining his life, was absurd. Like, it’s Bucky. His life is shambles by default. Why does it keep happening to him. It was psychological, you were sure, but your understanding didn’t help a bit. Bucky couldn’t sleep, and he was growing grey, moody, and powerless. You heard him hiss at Wilson the day before, and Sam’s voice sounded the way you hated to hear. Serious and defensive.

“How much time can you go on like this?” you asked.

“It’s not like I’m going anywhere”, he said vaguely. You turned back to the TV and watched. Ah, riots. People still hate the Avengers. Nothing gets done. The Damage Control is not enough. Angry. Helpless. Exhausted. On the edge. Familiar.

You blinked and stretched. You had insomnia, too, but it was pretty human, like all other cases. Rolling back and forth until five am, and then falling asleep like someone snapped their fingers – fast, deep, and with no dreams. You thought you were irritated and weary before you’ve seen what’s happening to Bucky.

You recalled staring at the window last night, while you laid in your bed. The sky was slowly getting pale pink, and your spine was moaning and sweating. Your eyes were burning and dry, and when the first ray of the sun poked through the clouds, a witch somewhere clicked her claws, and you drowned into sleep. You got up at noon, tired but alive, and didn’t have breakfast. The day was rainy, the job was none. Tony was in Washington with some infuriating business about not fighting people who are trying to prevent him getting them help. The latest news was, Tony was a tyrant who was trying to starve people to death.

You could hear Bucky breathe next to you. You didn’t speak last couple of days because you weren’t in the best mood and didn’t really want to bother him, though sometimes you felt like he’s watching you closely, more often than could be considered polite. But he got a pass, being Bucky. Everybody loved him, including you, or so you thought.

The quiet mumbling on the TV was putting you to sleep. You didn’t have problems with sleeping in daylight – it was the darkness that startled you to death and took away your composure. You started nodding and slid down the couch, putting your head on the pillow. You could still hear Bucky breathe very near, but at this point he was more of a surrounding.

You dreamed you were covered in spider’s web, but not like Peter’s, sticky and hard, - warm and very soft. It wouldn’t let go of you though. You tried to release your arm to get the white satin off, but it was unbreakable. You felt very tired in your dream, and decided to rest a bit more. Something poked you in the ribs, and you realized you were lying on a huge, broad branch of a giant tree. Hey, just like in the Hobbit! you thought. You tried to roll onto your back so that the hard bark of the tree wouldn’t bruise you. You couldn’t move. The fresh air was soothing your skin. You felt so good, despite being in the dark forest, possibly surrounded by gigantic human eater spiders.

FRIDAY’s soft voice woke you up.

“Y/N. Tony’s on the phone. Can you talk?”

You sighed, trying to figure out the parts of your body. Bucky’s metal arm was warm and hard beneath your right shoulder blade. He was almost falling off the couch, his right arm weighing a metric ton on your ribs. He was soft, and big, and breathing in your neck and tickling it a bit. You fought the sudden desire to lay a palm on his impressive side going up and down with the tempo of his breathing. Bucky Barnes was finally sleeping.

[eldritchsurveys]

o81.

[[ Random Survey Questions // By @x-hallie-x ]] 1. When was the last time you realized something about yourself, your abilities, or your financial situation that left you feeling disappointed? >> I’m not sure. I feel like I’ve got a pretty solid perception of my financial situation, and considering it’s the best it’s been since I’ve hit adulthood, I can’t imagine being too disappointed (except when new video games come out lmao but half the time I buy them anyway because... like, I can, for once, and my brain goblins can’t prevent me from treating myself forever!). As far as my mental state is concerned, Can Calah won’t let me beat myself up about that, so entertaining any sort of disappointment in myself is out of the question. 

2. Generally, are you more likely to blame others or yourself for problems you experience? >> Generally, I’m more likely to blame myself than others. But I don’t think that’s any better than blaming others. I am as much a product of my environment and the other people in my life as I am a product of whatever wild magical shit happens to make brains the way they are. I can control what I can control, but a lot of things about my life are out of my control. Finding things to place blame on really just doesn’t help me fix things, so I don’t care who’s to blame, I care how it can be fixed/helped.

3. What is one thing about your life that you don’t ever see changing, even if you might wish it would? >> I probably will never be a person that is gainfully employed or self-sufficient. And, honestly, that would hurt me more if I didn’t have someone who is gainfully employed and self-sufficient who is willing to use that for both of our benefit. I was basically convinced that everyone in this country is out for whatever they can get for themselves, and if I can’t keep up with that, then I’m not worth keeping around. I’d been convinced that people saw me as a leech who just existed to suck up all their resources, and had nothing of value to offer in return. It’s a very insidious mentality to have absorbed, but the longer I’m here, the less power it has over me, so I guess I do have her to thank for that.

4. At what point in your life have you been the most social or had the most friendships? And at which point have you been the least social? >> I guess when I lived in NYC, in general. I had a couple of persistent social circles: the Streetwork LES crew (homeless/destitute youth who went to the drop-in center on the Lower East Side called Streetwork), and the vamp scene crew (self-styled “vampyres” who participated in a big underground subculture, subdivided themselves into Houses and Clans, and threw a lot of parties). Most of those people weren’t what I’d call my friends, per se -- we were very friendly, sure, and I had a lot of good times with them, but most of those people didn’t really measure up to what I’d want out of friendship (and the rest were just casual acquaintances). I guess now is when I’ve been the least social; I know almost no one out here and the people I do know are really just... friendly acquaintances, I guess? Social-media buddies? We don’t really know things about each other, you know, like friends do... I don’t know. At this age, I don’t know how friendships form and I don’t know how to find out. The Internet is where my friends are now and I guess that’s just the way it has to be until I figure out something else (or until I move to a less socially-uptight area).

5. Do you prefer to have a few close friends or a bunch of random acquaintances? Which would describe what you have now? >> I’d like to have a mix of both. I just like to have people to be social with, in a variety of ways. Like I had in New York... Right now, I don’t know what I have. I’m kinda off this subject because it depresses me, ngl, no offence to anyone.

6. Do you journal? Generally, what do you write about? Do you find it helpful to get your thoughts out that way, or do you prefer another form of self-expression? >> I used to journal. I used to be really into journalling. But I guess, instead of trying to stick to the same practices I used to do, maybe I ought to recognise that my instinct to journal has been diverted into other forms of media -- like keeping a tumblr, and taking surveys. These all exist as records of my life -- as proof that I was here, that I existed, that these things happened to me. The internet enables me to keep a multimedia record of my existence, and that’s actually more than I could expect from just one paper journal, or whatever. Journalling (on various journal sites especially) was indeed a helpful way for me to get my thoughts out, but I guess now I just talk to Can Calah instead. I think I got put off writing my thoughts down because my instinct is to keep stuff like that public, because it’s all me and I am an open book, but then people (not just one person, either, this is just a thing people do in general, and I guess it’s understandable but oh my god) would get upset about stuff later and it’d just get messy. So I got put off being emotional on the internet because it backfired on me a lot lmao. I’m working on getting over it.

7. Do you like eating foods that other people have cooked for you, or do you prefer to have control over your meals? >> I do like eating food that other people have cooked for me -- as long as it’s food I like. And as long as it isn’t like... some kind of social trap. Like, I was annoyed with Sparrow’s mother for a few months because she wasn’t respecting my boundaries and always had some stupid shit to say about me to Sparrow and I don’t play that fucking shit. So I basically stopped being nice to her. And she kept trying to do stuff like... like Easter dinner, she made it “Southern-style” and made collards and banana pudding and shit. And like, this is a Midwestern White(tm) we’re talking about. That’s not the kind of stuff she naturally makes for any occasion. And she told Sparrow that she’d asked around (I guess at her job??? or something?) about what Black people eat on holidays??? And Sparrow’s like “but you could have just asked Logan if there was any dishes he wanted to be served”. Like, it’s not fucking rocket science, I’m right here. But she’ll always do shit like that, trying to ingratiate herself, when it’s not that fucking hard!!!! Don’t touch me, don’t talk about me to my fiancée behind my back, and ask me things directly!!!! WOW! SO HARD! (Also, the banana pudding was a fucking miss because bananas are one of like 3 foods on this entire planet that I don’t like. Which... she would have known... if she’d asked me first. But no, it was just all “oh I did this, I did that, he’s not grateful” bitch I DIDN’T ASK FOR ANY OF THIS. STOP IT.) Anyway, shit like that I hate. But people making food for me in general is great, because I hate cooking.

8. Have you ever been somewhere and REALLY didnt like a food that you were expected to eat? How did you deal with this? Are you someone who is likely to suck it up and be polite or refuse and save your taste buds? >> Yeah, that same Easter holiday I just mentioned. The collards were terrible, the fish was meh, and everything else was food I don’t care for (cheesy potatoes and that kinda starch-heavy fare). So I basically drank wine and played on my phone the whole time. As you can see, politeness is not something I feel compelled to give if I don’t want to. 

9. What is one way in which you compare yourself to others? In this comparison, do you regard yourself as better or worse off than the people to whom you usually do the comparing? >> Well, I compare myself to other fanwriters a lot, because it’s something I can’t help. I don’t think I’m a bad writer. I’ve been writing literally all of my conscious life, and I’ve watched myself progress. I’m generally pretty fair about my strengths and weaknesses in writing. When my confidence is where it’s supposed to be, and I’ve been writing often, I turn out some pretty good shit. I like my work. But my confidence took a big hit at some point lately, and I’m not sure why. All I know is that I feel like my offerings to fandom are like... boring to people, or not interesting enough, or??? I don’t know. And I feel like I don’t have any stories worth telling anymore. These are all feelings and really not based in any sort of reality, because my friends and partner tell me they like my work and my OCs, and tumblr as a whole is so astoundingly saturated with fanwork that the lack of interest most likely has nothing to do with my content and more to do with the fact that the market is full up and people don’t have time. I know all that, but when I sit down and go “okay, self, let’s write a fic”, all these mental blocks land in my path and I get too tired to deal with it and just scroll my dash instead. I don’t know what to do, but I guess I’ll just truck along until something in me changes. :/

10. What is something you’ve been particularly grateful for lately? >> That while my thanatophobia is nowhere near fixed, it’s been a little quieter lately. I’ve been able to sleep, and being able to sleep makes a lot of other things more manageable by default, so it’s like an ouroboros (in this case, a good one; but when I can’t sleep then it becomes a terrible one, lol). I’m using the lull to try to install some better programming, some less spiral-y thought patterns, that sort of thing. I don’t know if it’s helping, but I’ve literally got more to gain than I stand to lose, so.

11. What kind of change or opportunity would be the biggest help in your life right now? >> A therapist. But... like, one I feel like I can build a relationship with, not one who I dread seeing (which has been every therapist I’ve ever had). But like, besides just the benefit to my mental health... the clock is really ticking; recertification for SSI will most likely be happening within the next year and I have no psych team. How will they know how to judge my case if I’m not in any kind of treatment? That’s how people end up cut off. :T

12. Is there one emotion that you experience more often than any other? Is there an emotion you rarely ever experience? >> I experience amusement most often, probably. If that’s an emotion. An emotion I rarely experience is... shame? Most likely.

13. How mature would you say you are? What qualities do you think make a person mature? >> I don’t know how to gauge maturity, least of all my own. What is my basis for comparison? Adulthood as it is in modern USian society is a crock, most of the time -- the way people understand it is all kinds of flawed. What are our passage rites? Who are our elders? Where do we learn how to be a productive member of our community (and not just a cog in the capitalist machine)? The people we look up to are often no better off than we are. Individualism as a social standard (as opposed to the understanding of oneself as an individual) and the division of the community structure has ruined our ability to understand ourselves in relation to other people properly. What is maturity, in a society like this? What is my role in my society, and how well am I fulfilling it? What have I learned about life, and how much of it is truly worth knowing and passing on? Questions, questions, questions.

14. When was the last time you believed there might be something seriously medically wrong with you? What was the ultimate diagnosis? >> I mean, I always think my body’s about to fall apart, even though I’m aware that’s illogical and just a byproduct of thanatophobia. I don’t think I’ve ever thought anything was seriously medically wrong with me, because generally nothing is.

15. What is one illness you are afraid of having? Do you know anyone who has faced this illness? >> Anything that involves degeneration of the brain (Alzheimer’s and the sort). And no, I don’t know anyone personally with anything like that. 

16. How do you tend to behave when you’re sick? What kinds of things do you like people to do for you, if anything, to help you feel better? >> I’m so rarely ill that I’m not even sure, lmao. I think it’d depend on what kind of sick I am, because different illnesses require different methods of care.

17. If you’re someone who rarely eats breakfast, is there a reason for this? If you do usually eat breakfast, are there any other meals you avoid or skip for any reason, and why so? >> I mean, I eat when I’m hungry, and I don’t care what the time of day is (as long as it’s not too close to bedtime). So I don’t really label my meals using “breakfast”, “lunch”, and so on. 

18. When was the last time you did something you were proud of? Were other people proud of you as well? Does it matter to you whether or not other people care about your accomplishments, or is your own satisfaction enough? >> Probably finishing some questline in a video game. And no, I mean, I didn’t really tell anyone or anything. It’s not really an important thing. Woo, big deal, video games, who cares.

19. What is your least favorite thing about the season you’re currently experiencing? Are you okay with most types of weather, or are you only happy under certain conditions? >> I don’t like sweating or feeling lethargic because of heat / humidity. I’m usually okay with most types of weather as long as they’re not extreme, but if there are long stretches of cloudy / rainy days I feel pretty diminished and gloomy-doomy.

20. Have you made any changes to your style or “look” lately? How often do you change your appearance, hairstyle, fashion, etc? Or is it a pretty constant thing? >> No, not really. I don’t know what to change. My executive function when it comes to appearance is like... in negative integers. I just... I lost the knack for it. Whatever.

21. What are some things you do to feel pampered? >> I’m not sure I ever feel pampered, lmao. I tried to think about it and I just got this tangled ball of wires regarding like, stuff I can’t even explain quickly, so I’m just gonna move on.

22. What was the last thing you felt hopeful about? Do you think there’s a good chance of whatever-it-is working out in your favor, or not so much? >> Well, the last thing I felt hopeful about was getting out to see The Equalizer 2 today, and then the whole debit card thing happened, so I actually had my hopes dashed. And all because I did what I was supposed to do! But doing what I was supposed to do means that now I have to wait for a new debit card, which means I can’t go to the movies today (I can’t get to the bank and just get cash, which is what the lady on the phone said to do! I don’t fucking drive!!!). So, you know. Right now I’m just focusing on salvaging my day and my mood.

23. In what ways are you prone to black and white thinking? In what ways do you see more in terms of color or gray? >> I don’t know, I’m mostly a grey person by necessity or by design or whatever. Sometimes I’ll think “I’m a complete fucking idiot” because I did one dumb thing, or something, but like... it’s just because I’m upset about the one thing and can’t properly process that one thing at the moment without like, making a mountain out of it. That’s why I just try to distract myself until the feeling passes, because that’s the only way to get my brain to move on.

24. Are there types of people you will simply never understand (not necessarily ~empathize with) no matter how hard you might try? Are there people you seem to understand almost immediately? >> Well, yeah, definitely. I mean, I can’t possibly understand everyone. I don’t expect myself to, either. I guess I understand people who are like me? Like, that’s logical, right? I don’t know. 

25. When was the last time you tried something you’ve never tried before? How likely are you to break from your routine and try new things? >> The only thing I can think of recently is playing Journey, because I’d never played that before. I don’t know how often I try new things, especially since a lot of “trying new things” involves either money I don’t have or access I don’t have. 

26. Have you ever “recovered” from anything? What does “recovery” mean or look like to you? >> I don’t think so. I think mental recovery is a long-term shifting of paradigms and changing of perspective that can only be truly comprehended in retrospect. I think in that respect, I’ll be recovering for a long time. This is why I prefer the small-scale focus rather than the wide-scale focus, because using the wide-scale focus too much makes everything feel bleak and futile -- we may have a more complex consciousness and a more complex understanding of time and space, but I think exercising that cosmic viewpoint frequently can be really taxing on the brain (which manifests in things like existential despair, thanatophobia, etc). So instead of thinking about “recovery”, I think about being good to myself today. And that’s that.

27. What are some ways your childhood differed from those of others around you? Do you think this difference was harmful or advantageous in the long run? >> Hm. I was raised as a “gifted child” with all the ridiculous bullshit that entailed. I was sheltered to an absurd degree for a modern child (like, I didn’t watch cartoons and didn’t know what actual video games [as opposed to computer games] were until I was almost an adult). I didn’t make my first friend until sixth grade, and I was so socially undeveloped that I ended up losing her before the year was out. I didn’t know how to talk to people, I was sullen and withdrawn, I lived in my headspace and didn’t bother with the actual world around me. My curiosity as a child was severely blunted by alienation (I guess I’m making up for that lack of curiosity now, huh). I was pretty obviously not a normal child, but no one could see that?? Or didn’t care?? As long as I got good grades and didn’t cut up in class, no one cared about my development, I guess. I think the nature of my childhood didn’t do me any favours, but I also think that I’ve done the best I could with what I had (which wasn’t much). I eventually had to teach myself socialisation by observation, for example, and I think I did a decent enough job. I can’t blame my parent and the adults around him for my stunted development forever. Now it’s my responsibility.

28. What is one thing you are really good at compared to most people? What about one thing you are really bad at compared to others? >> I really don’t know how to determine this. I think it’s too easy to judge oneself unfairly in comparison to other people, so I try not to do it on purpose, you dig.

29. Do you think people are “all good” or “all bad”? What would make someone qualify as “bad” or “good” to you, or do you simply not think in those terms? >> No, I don’t think that. I don’t even think of people in terms of “bad” or “good”, unless we’re literally playing a Fable game where you have an actual “good/evil” meter. Even then, I’ve spent most of my time in that fandom unpacking that stupid fucking spectrum and writing the characters with the nuance they deserve. So, you know. I’m pretty sick of good/evil or good/bad as a whole. People are people, and that’s that on that.

30. When was the last time you did something out in nature? Do you notice a dip in your mood when you don’t get enough of the Great Outdoors? >> I guess that’d be on the Fourth, when we went to Creekside Park to eat lunch. I... really don’t spend a whole lot of time outside anymore, and I think it’s directly related to how much I don’t like where I live. I’ve tried on many occasions to be more enthusiastic about something, anything, about Grand Rapids, Michigan, and I really fucking can’t. I can’t do it. And I’m tired of trying to make myself do it. So now I just don’t do shit. Which isn’t any better, I know. I’m just trying to make do, here.

[magicallibary]

Four Years

A/N: Hello! Hope you’re doing alright today. I don’t have much to say about this except that I’ll be using this story as a ‘time machine’ thing, I guess, for ‘future-me.’ Regardless, have a wonderful rest of your day or I hope you had a wonderful day if its now ending. Enjoy!

Word Count: 1770 Words Warnings: Not that I can think of :)

Summary: Sometimes you need the correct orientation to make your dreams can true.

The sound of quickly falling raindrops bashing the nearby windows, echoed across the land. The wind blew back and forth harshly, the trees moving along with the non rhythmic breeze, a few branches dropping to the ground below. Meanwhile, inside a tanned brick house, Erik sat by his computer. His green eyes stared at the bright screen that lightened the otherwise dark room, confusion and frustration laced upon his features. His dark hands stood millimeters away from the keyboard, a few empty, white cups laid abandoned on the wooden desk as a result of a long day and many cups of coffee. Erik’s black hair was pointed in different directions, messily placed upon his head. Some would say he was crazy but he was simply trying to chase down his one dream.

Ever since Erik was six years old, he wanted to write a book. Nobody, even Erik himself, knew where the strange desire had come from. Some thought it was just a childish dream but, currently he was 23 years old and the essence of that dream remained, maybe even stronger than it was before. He really didn’t know what it was that pulled him into the writing ambition, he just knew that he desperately wanted to give it a go.

The only problem was, that he didn’t know what to write his book about.

His dilemma had caused him infinite endless days and countless of restless nights of staring at a blank document on his computer screen. Every once in a while an idea would appear inside his brain, his forest eyes would light up and grow as his fingers would madly type away on the keyboard. Until, a few paragraphs later, the black-haired adult would realize that he didn’t know how to keep going with the tale, and, a few hours of looking at the screen blankly later, he would end up opening a new blank document. Then, the cycle would repeat itself.

Sometimes, he would stare out his window, looking at the colors of the sky blend together, and wonder. Most of the time, he would wonder about what the future had in store for him. He wondered if he would ever be able to even get the idea so he could start writing, if he would ever finish said task, if he would be brave enough to try to publish it, if it would be approved and if anyone would ever read it. He didn’t know if fame was he would want in the future, he sometimes even feared fame becoming his need. He didn’t know.

That moment was arriving, his eyes began opening and closing in a slow pattern as the hours wasted began catching up to the male. His green orbs slowly began shifting focus towards his wooden framed window. The first detail Erik spotted was the big droplets he had been clueless about until the moment. It wasn’t until he started observing the actual scenery behind his window that he noticed that everything wasn’t gray and dark as it was supposed to be. Instead of the usual dark cloudy sky and misty gray tone that overlaid everything, a slight green tint shone from the sky, coloring everything in its color. Erik’s thick eyebrows joined closer in confusion, his thoughts running back and forth through his brain, not nearly long enough to finish any thought. Suddenly, an intense light caught his attention. Through the tall trees outside his house, a lighting bolt created contact with the ground. However, it wasn’t a normal lightning bolt, it was painted with an intense neon green color. The lights inside his room began blinking rapidly, quickly he looked around in surprise, his eyes widening as he ran his left hand through his licorice hair and the spare hand held onto his chair, tightly. Another wave of surprise showered him when a loud bang came from his closed door. Then another bang and then another. The cycle of loud noises continued, until, the door finally opened revealing something he thought he would never see.

A group of four individuals walked through the door, but they all looked like Erik. From the top of the head to the tip of the toes, the four of them looked exactly like him, the only real difference was the clothing. The farthest to the right wore an expensive-looking suit and a pair of sunglasses rested by his nose. The Erik next to that one wore comfortable and unmatchable clothing. The next, had stains of coffee and other beverages all over his pajama-like clothing, also, he had big bags under his almost completely closed and lightless eyes. The last one wore modest clothes, similar to the ones the actual Erik was wearing, and seemed to have an annoyed and unimpressed look in his eyes.

“Hello Erik.” Said the comfortably dressed Erik.

“Wh-Who are y-you?” Asked the trembling Erik. “Wh-What d-do you want with me?”

“We’re not going to kill you, you know that.” A sarcastic voice interrupted. The fancily dressed Erik. “Now, can we get into it already?”

“Yes, we sha-” a yawn interrupted the tired Erik’s words. “shall.”

“Let’s try this again, for the sake of your understanding, I’m Underappreciation Erik.” The most normal-looking Erik offered a small wave.

“Famous Erik, dude.” Well-dressed Erik introduced himself.

“Stu-” Another yawn escaped the tired Erik’s mouth. “Stubborn Erik.”

“Fearful Erik.” The comfortably clothed Erik finished the round of introductions.

“Wh-What are you d-doing here?” Asked the still parted Erik.

“We’re here to warn you, Erik.”

“About what?”

“About the future.” Answered Underappreciation Erik. “About your future, to be specific.”

“My future? What about it?” The confusion was being projected in the voice.

“Your writing one.” Began Fearful Erik. “You see, today marks an important day for most of us, well, you. Four years from now you will be one of us. We are future versions of yourself. You will make a decision today and that will decide if you end up like us.”

“Like you? How?”

“Alright, I’m the first, so by default the most important so allow me to begin this little circle, alright?” Commenced Famous Erik. “In a few hours, four years ago, I came up with an idea for my dream book and began writing. A few years later, it got published and I became excited about my future. I continued writing, published more stories and was on the best-seller list various times. Only thing is, many say that I’ve become obsessed with fame and attention, but I don’t get it. Anyway, that’s my side, please continue while I tune all of you out.”

Fearful Erik began speaking next. “Four years ago today, Famous Erik appeared after a green lightning bolt stroke. He told me about what had happened to him and advised not to follow his steps. Instead of continuing going for my dream, but differently, I became scared of that future and I stopped writing. Now, I work a supermarket job and, honestly, I don’t feel happy with my life.”

“My turn.” A yawn came before Stubborn Erik’s story. “Similarly, Famous Erik and Fearful Erik came to me four years ago, telling me their stories. So, after hearing the stories, I decided to ignore the idea that had got Famous Erik to where he was and I decided to continue writing, so I couldn’t end up like Fearful Erik. But, I couldn’t come up with any other ideas and I continued pushing myself to come up with something else, but I couldn’t. I’ve had to start going to sleep therapy to actually get some rest since I can’t get myself to do it by myself. I haven’t got any chapter done. Sometimes I take night shift jobs to pull myself out of the stress.”

Finally Underappreciation Erik spoke. “Famous Erik, Fearful Erik and Stubborn Erik came to me too, four years ago. After speaking with them, I took the idea I came up with but I became to focused on ignoring the fame, that when people started telling me why I never addressed my fans, I started to immediately pay attention to it all. Now, everyone says I don’t see how lucky I am to do what I do and that I take everything for granted. Now, we are going to do everything we can to stop you becoming like us. You can’t end up like us, alright? You can’t. Be different and find the future we all tried to reach and failed to find.”

Erik didn’t know what to say. He didn’t even know if he could talk. His throat felt like it was tied in a knot and raspy, almost dry. His eyes extended and surprise was written all over them. His hands became sweaty as he rubbed them against one another.

“What do I have to do?”

“What you feel is right.” Answered Famous Erik. “We all didn’t stay true to ourselves, some in our morals, some in our dreams, some in our lifestyle, but you have the power to stay true to what you believe in. Do what’s right. Don’t be us.”

Four years later, Erik sat in a desk at a famous bookstore, a pen in his left hand, his right hand adjusting his flannel’s collar. His green eyes focused on the transparent doors of the store, looking at the line of people that were waiting for those doors to open. His mind travelled to the night of the green thunderstorm, four years ago. He would give anything to talk to the other future versions of himself and thanking them for their advice. The book was based on that night, on the future versions of himself visiting him and helping him.

Due to those events, four years ago, he had a published book in his hands. A feeling began bubbling in his chest. Not a prideful feeling, not a scared one, not even a tired one. He felt a happiness pumping in his veins and every so often he would find himself smiling. He loved his work, his fanbase as he made sure to stay humble, to remember that night four years ago and everything before it. All the struggle he had trying to come up with ideas, staying up late to try to stay motivated and still getting nothing done. How lucky had he been? He thanked everything that brought him there, especially, that night four years ago.

The doors opened as the first of his fans walked towards him, his book held in their arms, a smile decorating their face and without Erik noticing it, a smile pulled at his lips too.

[micahrodney]

Thread; Chapter 5 - Fantasyland

This was a commission for MatthewCaveatZealot. There was a terribly familiar thump as Neil's head hit the ceiling above his bed. The same precariously rigged alarm clock on his loft bed was blaring, and the disorientation that came with it. Neil wanted to believe that what he had experienced was a dream, but he knew better by now. He was awake, for certain, but he had not truly been asleep.

The question now was how he made it back to his dorm room, though he feared the answer was obvious. Another day or so of him running on “autopilot”. Let alone what that must have been like for his family.

His family. God, he missed them so much right now. In the past week, his universe had expanded a thousand-fold, entirely against his will. All Neil wanted was the safe surroundings of his old family home. He wanted Travis's insufferable theatre music blasting at all hours of the night. He missed Dawn spending every hour of the night playing on the NES they had. Just as comforting were the random pop-ins from Kim, and the sight of his father hard at work, with papers sprawled all over the coffee table.

He wanted his mother. Just his mother being there. Her presence.

The hole in his heart was warmed by a bit of metal. It was then that Neil noticed that he was wearing an amulet of sorts. It was on a chain of silver and ended in a pendant made of some otherworldly metal. It shone as brightly as freshly pressed steel but had faint transparency to it. Etched into it with crystalline blue lines were several stars, connected by points: the Crossroads, of course. Roughly, they formed a constellation similar in appearance to the Southern Cross.

“Can you hear me?” Rem asked, directly into his mind. 

As the Somni spoke, the blue lines glowed faintly.

“Yeah,” Neil replied, dazedly. “Are you going to explain this?” 

“We simply moved this one to a more convenient position along this thread. But fear not, you are in your original world, as Nox promised,” Rem explained. “To this one's family, the transition was natural. That is to say, this one did not do anything untoward or unexpected in its absence.” 

“If we're going to be communicating regularly,” Neil said, exasperated. “You could try being a little easier to understand.”

“What does this one mean?” Rem asked, as patiently as Neil had ever heard him. 

“For starters, you could stop calling me 'this one.' You know, use 'you' and 'your',” Neil replied. 

Rem waited for a moment to respond as if he were trying to wrap his head around the new mode of communication. “Very well. Neil. I will attempt to speak more plainly to... you.”

“I appreciate the effort,” Neil praised faintly. 

“It is difficult for me,” Rem added. “Somni are not accustomed to dealing with other races. Your presence is honestly slightly confusing to me. It upsets our natural order.”

“Well, I can't exactly stop existing to make things convenient for you,” Neil retorted, thinking back to their first exchange where he had nearly been reduced to atoms by his soon-to-be mentor. 

“Indeed not,” Rem agreed. “Now are we going to spend the rest of the day discussing our feelings on the matter, or shall we get down to business?”

Rem was consistent, Neil had to give him that.

“Alright, boss,” Neil said, leaning his head back against his pillow. “What's the game plan?”

“The Crossroad we are concerned with is a crucial event that will take place this evening at your friend Damian's house. Something will happen, we know not what, but you must be there to witness it occur,” Rem explained. 

“Wait, that's it?” Neil asked. “You don't have any more information than that?” 

“We observe only the surface level information about these changes. I may as well ask you about the inner workings of an ant colony. It is up to you to be at the right place at the right time. The event should be significant enough that you will not mistake it if that is any consolation,” Rem said, without any sign of sympathy. 

“Cool,” Neil sighed. “And then what am I supposed to do?” 

“Binders can read the movement of the Crossroads and correct their course. When you finally do enter the critical moment your perception of events will be rather metaphysical,” Rem began. Here, for the first time ever, his tone softened somewhat, though it retained every ounce of its original rigidity. “The experience can be quite frightening. Just know that I will be watching over you and you will not be in any personal danger. However, if you fail-”

“I get it,” Neil cut him off firmly. He didn't need to be told. Thousands of timelines erased in an instant. Trillions of lives cut short. 

“Good,” Rem uttered. “Now what is your plan?” 

“I just have to get to Damian's house, and I know the perfect way to get there.”

---

Angie stirred her coffee idly as she listened to Neil's proposal. The tiny booth at The Junction was not an ideal location for the chat, but it was her lunch break and the poor boy seemed so desperate. It was quiet enough for two in the afternoon, with a drizzle keeping most people off the streets.

“So you finally want to join my game?” Angie summarized. 

“Yeah, I mean,” Neil rubbed the back of his neck. His own coffee was barely touched, but the aroma was satisfying and kept him alert. “Damian always talks about how great it is.”

“Normally I wouldn't let you just pop in last second. I mean our session starts in like four hours,” Angie began. “But honestly Jack and Violet can't make it tonight so it will probably be a good one for you to test out the waters a bit.” 

Neil knew about Jack and Violet but was not familiar with them personally. Honestly the fewer unfamiliar faces the better for his purposes.

“Is this just about the game?” Angie asked, leaning into Neil slightly across the table. There was a peculiar expression on her face which Neil couldn't read. 

“What do you mean?” Neil asked, somewhat defensively. He had made the decision to wear a blue sweater today and he felt like he was drowning in it under her gaze. 

“I mean... a little birdie told me about Erica,” Angie replied, tilting her head slightly. “Do you wanna talk about it?” 

In all that had happened over the past week, Neil had completely forgotten about Erica. The girl he loved for years, and who broke his heart completely out of nowhere. He guessed he should still be feeling sad about that, and yet when the fate of the multiverse was at stake, a young romance seemed pretty insignificant.

“Oh, well yeah,” Neil shrugged. “I mean, I'm okay and all. It was just so sudden.” 

“Take it from me, breakups suck, but they also just kind of... happen, you know?” Angie said, leaning back in her seat. “It'll hit you every once in a while. You'll get reminded of them and what you had, and then, boom, you're crying into your pillow again for no good reason. But it gets easier, bud.” 

Neil coughed uncomfortably. He wasn't sure how to process this new and unsolicited advice. Naturally, his brain defaulted to asking the worst possible question.

“You've had a breakup recently too, huh?” 

Angie rolled her eyes at him. “Tactful.”

“Sorry, I'm just really bad at this,” Neil laughed. 

“Utterly hopeless. Too bad I can't teach you how to talk to women since that requires a brain,” Angie teased. 

The two chuckled nervously and there was a brief silence, during which a thousand possible conversations could have happened if either party knew what to say. Neil wondered for a moment how many different threads had just been created at this moment involving either of them being just a little bolder.

“So who all will be at Damian's place tonight?” Neil asked, as casually as he could manage. 

“Trying to meet somebody?” Angie teased. 

Neil blushed slightly. “I mean, I just wanna get a sense of the crowd, you know. Usually, when I'm at Damian's house it's just his folks and kid sister. And they have a pretty quiet household usually. It's-”

“Settle down, champ,” Angie said, knocking her fist on the table to get Neil's attention. “It's gonna be Damian, Ash, and Victoria. And now you, I guess. Which reminds me, do you already have a character created?” 

“Oh, uh,” Neil's blush intensified. Perhaps this was a bad idea after all. 

“Hang on, I always carry the Rules Cyclopedia with me in my backpack. Hope you don't have any plans for the next hour and a half,” Angie chuckled. 

---

Damian's house, or more accurately his father's house, was practically a castle. The post-modern nightmare was rigid white walls with wide bay windows and a wrap-around patio. It looked more like the office space of some high-tech startup than it did a residential home. To complete the effect, the home was surrounded by twelve acres of dense woodlands with neatly lined cobblestone paths. If Damian's dad had the power, he would have evicted the animals too. 

The main ground-floor living space was technically called the “sunroom” but all the shades had been drawn and track-lighting illuminated a rectangular mahogany table. Six comfortable leather desk chairs were arranged around the promising assortment of battle maps, books, bowls full of various flavors of chips, soda bottles, and even a tray of deviled eggs, courtesy of Damian's mother.

Angie sat at the head of the table, a beautifully illustrated dungeon master's screen creating a sense of distance between her and the players. She had dressed up for the occasion, with a grey wizard's robe draped over her shoulders and clip-on elf ears.

The players were more casual, the only one who really got into the spirit of the event was Damian himself, who was wearing a maroon vest and bracers to mirror his half-elf rogue character: Quem. He was sitting just to Angie's left and fidgeting with his dice.

Opposite Damian was Neil himself, who had, after considerable effort of grasping the rules of this strange new game, had settled on a gnomish wizard named Frobozz the Magnificent. This was definitely not his usual scene, and he much preferred games on a computer screen to those played with pen and paper.

But duty called.

At the end of the table were Angie's friends Ash and Victoria. Ash sat beside Damian, his chiseled features and slight stubble capturing the image of the rugged Marcus, the human fighter he played. He wore a black t-shirt bearing the album artwork from Metallica's “Master of Puppets”.

Victoria was dressed somewhat plainly in a grey v-neck and jeans but wore a black pick around her neck as a sort of talisman. Damian had mentioned that she was the guitarist of a local garage band, and the connection between these two and Angie started to make more sense. She was controlling Elwin, the halfling bard.

“Alright guys,” Angie said waving her arms in a grandiose bordering on the satiric gesture of welcome. “As you all know we are joined by a new face tonight. This is Neil.”

“Hey, man,” Ash nodded respectfully. 

“Welcome, welcome,” Victoria greeted. 

“Uh, hi everyone,” Neil replied nervously. “So yeah. First time.” 

“It'll get under your skin,” Ash said. 

“He's not wrong,” Damian chuckled. “I was just gonna play a session or two to see what I thought. Now I host the game.” 

“Yeah, Damian, I gotta say, this doesn't seem like your scene,” Neil said, feeling slightly bolstered by the presence of his friend. 

“Hey, I get to spend five hours a week pretending to be the world's greatest thief. What's not to like?” Damian shrugged. 

“He only started playing because he was trying to sleep with my friend Liana,” Angie corrected. 

“Lies and slander!” Damian chuckled a little too brazenly. 

“I mean, fair enough, you stuck around after she moved, but you were not subtle about it,” Angie added, fiddling with a sheave of notes behind her screen. 

“Get used to this,” Victoria said conspiratorially to Neil. “D&D is about 80% game to 20% trash talking.”

“Don't forget the snacks and beer,” Ash added. 

---

When the game finally began properly, Neil had to admit the appeal. Gone were the five random strangers sitting around a table. In their place were a team of four heroes being led through a fantasy realm through Angie's skillful story-telling.

The heroes had been tasked with the recovery of an ancient artifact from the ruins of a long-abandoned castle. Elwin, Quem, and Marcus began the session already at the gates of the castle, where they had left off the previous week. Angie used this as an opportunity to introduce Neil's character. Frobozz was a former wizard of the fallen kingdom who had been magically sealed away in the castle dungeon for many years. Now Frobozz was helping the heroes while he decided what to do with the rest of his life. It was a simple story that allowed Neil an out in case this wasn't for him.

But it was hardly necessary. Within the first hour, he already knew he loved the world that Angie had created. The castle was filled with deadly traps and terribly clever puzzles to solve. And when they reached their first combat encounter and Angie broke out the battle map and clay miniatures it went to the next level.

“I don't have a gnome wizard mini yet, so you'll have to be a goblin for now,” Angie said apologetically as she placed the figurine on the map. 

The battle was fierce, with the four of them facing off against four undead warriors, each one mirroring the players themselves. A hulking zombie still in plate mail led them, followed closely by two skeletons, one wielding a dagger and the other a bow. In the rear was a spell-slinging shade. And considering Neil did not know what he was doing, the battle was especially hectic.

It was about halfway into the melee when there was a knock on the sunroom door. Ash was explaining the finer points of the Magic Missile spell to Neil, while Victoria was desperately searching through her character sheet to see if she had any Potions of Healing left.

“Come on in!” Damian called. 

The door slid open and his little sister Talia entered the room. She was wearing a set of lime green pajamas and holding a stuffed Babar the Elephant.

“Talia, what's up?” Damian asked, walking over to the young girl.

“Mama needs your help,” Talia said. “In the kitchen.” 

The plan was for their family to have a traditional dinner around this time, but Damian would be excused to bring his plate back to the sunroom. As for the others, Mr. Levant had ordered them a couple of pizzas out of consideration for their palate.

“Hi, Talia,” Neil greeted politely. 

Talia froze in place and gave the unmasked expression of shock that only kids can truly manage. She then covered both of her eyes with her hands, and meekly muttered, “Don't talk to strangers.”

“Stranger? That's Neil,” Damian laughed. “You're being silly, kiddo.”

“Sorry, I'm not trying to frighten you, little miss,” Neil apologized, scooting his chair back in. 

Stranger... maybe I am a stranger. What if this isn't my thread after all? 

“It's about dinner time, isn't it?” Ash asked. 

“One-track mind,” Victoria teased. 

Damian ignored both of them and took his little sister's hand. “Alright kiddo, take me to her. Angie, I'll just be a few minutes.”

Neil leaned back in his chair a bit as he tried to consider what he would do as soon as Damian got back. He was in a tough fight and had no idea how to get out of the mess they were in. As his brain whirred with the possibilities Ash and Victoria were debating, he felt a pulse from the amulet.

“You are near the Crossroad now,” Rem informed him. It was clear that nobody else in the room, except him, had heard the voice. “It's not in that room. Somewhere else in the house. We still don't have a clear picture.”

Neil was taken aback. For a moment he had almost forgotten why he was there. Now that he was reminded, he needed a way to excuse himself from the group.

“Uh, I'm gonna go see if Damian needs any help,” Neil explained. 

“You can just say you're using the can, dude, we're grownups here,” Ash said. 

“Allegedly,” Victoria smirked. 

“I'm not the one who tried to seduce a dinosaur, okay?” Ash shot back, referencing some prior adventure of theirs. 

“It's a valid strategy, I'm a bard. I'm sorry you don't understand our love,” Victoria laughed. 

--- Neil slunk down the narrow T-shaped hallway from the sunroom in the southeast corner of the house into the open-layout public space. The western side of the house was an open space, with carpet for the living room half and tile for the dining room. Around the corner from this, facing the front door, was the stairwell leading up to the bedrooms. On the opposite side of this were the stairs leading down into the basement. The kitchen was off to the side of the dining room, on the opposite side of the house from the sunroom.

“So any bright ideas?” Neil whispered. 

“It seems likely that it is in the floor below you,” Rem offered. 

“I was afraid you were going to say that,” Neil sighed, moving towards the basement door and placing a hand on the basement door. 

“Talia!” shouted Damian's mother from the kitchen. “Don't touch the pan, it's still hot!” 

Neil jumped at the sudden shout, and his fingers rattled the doorknob. Footsteps approached from the stairs above him and he quickly let go, attempting to act casual. He was temporarily frozen as Anders Levant rounded the corner.

Damian's step-father was an impressive-looking man; bald but with a neatly trimmed beard that lined features nicely. He was wearing a black collar shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and draped in grey suspenders that connected to his matching pants. The man looked constantly ready for action, and this was no exception.

“Evening, Neil,” he said with a smile, but with the grain of unflinching seriousness that coated everything the man said. “Break time from the grand adventures, eh?”

“Mr. Levant,” Neil nodded. In truth, Neil had only met him once or twice before. He was something of an enigma and wasn't one for large social gatherings. “Sorry, I was just going to see if I could help your wife set out dinner.”

“Were you?” Mr. Levant said, his voice raised slightly.“ I'm certain she would welcome that. You're going to make some woman very happy someday. My generation never got taught 'woman's work', you know.” 

Mr. Levant let out a deep bellowing laugh and patted Neil on the shoulder. There was a slight, reflexive grip as he reached Neil's neck. A tight pinch, and then he let go. His touch felt like lightning at the moment, but it was over as soon as it began.

“Right,” Neil nodded. “I mean, I figured. I guess I'd better go into the kitchen then, right?”

“You know where it is, oh grand explorer,” Mr. Levant nodded. It was a statement, not a question, and it carried the subtext of dismissal. 

“Yes sir,” Neil said, sliding past Mr. Levant and walking down the hallway towards the kitchen. He glanced briefly over his shoulder to see Mr. Levant sliding a key into the basement door and locking it shut. 

“It's him.” 

Rem's message was unnecessary, as he felt a powerful burning in his chest at the sight. The pieces were falling into place right before him, and now he just had to do something about it. He had to get into that basement. Something horrible was going to happen down there. But what? And how? And how did it relate to Mr. Levant?

Suddenly, the doorbell rang.

“Pizza!” Talia cried. 

“Tiny one, that is for your brother's friends!” Mrs. Levant said. “You can have one slice after you finish your dinner.” 

“I'll get it!” Neil said, opening the front door. 

There was another way into the basement. A window on the lower level. It was narrow, but Neil was slim and he could probably squeeze his way through it. He just had to get outside and work his way around to it. This was going to require a distraction and the pizza man was perfectly timed. He opened the door to a haggard-looking college kid holding two large boxes and a couple of 2-liters.

“Hey sir, it's $18.78.” 

“I'll grab the food from you,” Neil said, taking the pizza. 

“You gonna pay for it too, Neil?” Damian asked, appearing from the kitchen and patting him on the shoulder. 

“I'll get you back for it, I promise,” Neil laughed, trying to hide his nerves. As he turned around, Mr. Levant was still standing by the basement door. 

Damian handed the guy $25. The window was closing, and he was being watched closely. He couldn't exactly bolt out the front door after the pizza guy. Holding the food and balancing the two-liters anxiously he moved towards the sunroom. Neil felt a knot forming in his stomach. His time was running out.

Then he considered another strategy. One born from desperation and recklessness.

“Rem,” Neil whispered, his lips hidden behind the two-liters. “It's Mr. Levant himself, right?” 

“Correct. What does that have to do with-”

Before Rem could finish his thoughts, Neil acted. Feigning himself slipping on his shoelaces, he barreled into Mr. Levant, food first. Pizza and soda went everywhere and Mr. Levant was knocked back against the rear wall, his head making contact with the molding of the dining room door-frame.

“Son of a bitch!” Mr. Levant cursed, as he reached back to his head. His hand came back bloody. 

Neil didn't look much better as he had hit the opposite frame, except his forehead took the brunt of it, leaving a nasty gash between his eyes.

“Oh! Daddy's bleeding!” Talia cried. 

“Dad!” Damian cried out, rushing past Neil to help his father up. 

“I'm sorry!” Neil blurted, doing his part to keep up the illusion. “I slipped, I'm so sorry!”

“Hey, is everyone alive?” Angie asked, poking her head out of the sunroom. 

“We've got to get you both to a hospital,” Mrs. Levant said, emerging from the kitchen. She had been through far worse and was doing a wonderful job of maintaining her composure. “Talia grab some towels. Damian, you start the car. Are you alright, husband?” 

“Looks like you got me,” Mr. Levant chuckled, calming down slightly as he sat up to stare Neil directly in the face. “Boy, you certainly do know how to throw a party, don't you?”

There was an understanding between the two of them at that moment. They were both going to play their part, certainly. But Neil felt it as sure as he felt the burning in his breast from the amulet, and the uncomfortable way the light glinted off of that phony smile of his. Anders Levant knew exactly what he had done, and – somehow – why he had done it. There was far more to this man than Neil could have ever possibly imagined. 

It's him, alright.