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ordinaryschmuck · 3 years ago

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What I Thought About the Climax of "Reunion" from Amphibia

Salutations, random people on the internet who are already scrolling right past this. I am an Ordinary Schmuck. I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons.

So, Season Three of Amphibia is coming pretty soon. And I am...excited, but not as much as most people.

If you've seen my reviews, you'll know that while I do like Amphibia, I wouldn't go so far as to say it grabbed me as well as a series like The Owl House. With a show like that, it took me until Episode Five before I realized The Owl House was something special that was worth remembering. For Amphibia? It took me until the Season One finale before I had a similar reaction. But, to be fair, that's because this series is really good at making an ending. "Reunion," for example, takes a lot of the small things the first season has been building up, taking plots from episodes I considered filler and tying it all together in a pretty satisfying ending. I know people are still reeling over the epicness of "True Colors," and all for a good reason, but I want to start the new season on the right foot by discussing a moment that made me consider giving the series a chance.

But it also contains spoilers, so if you haven't seen Amphibia yet, now might be a good time to check it out. It may not have grabbed me and might not even grab you, but trust me when I say that it's worth it just to get to that final scene.

Now, let's review, shall we?

Grime Explaining Flipwart and Bogjump: One thing I will always defend about this series is its humor. More often than not, it succeeds in getting a chuckle out of me with perfect timing and solid comedic delivery. And stuff like this? Where Grime takes a break from his evilness to explain how two board games work to two teenagers? Only to then give up and stick with a simple answer? Yeah, I'm sorry, but that's funny to me. A good thing, too, given how this show relies more on humor than anything else. It may have an overarching plot and its fair share of grim moments (I give you Marcy's maybe death), but Amphibia knows when to keep things light amongst the darkness, which I always appreciate.

Anne Pleading with Sasha: Here, the scene showcases Anne's own personal struggle with Sasha. We know Sasha's a bad friend, primarily because we have eyes. But Anne still needs convincing. Because while she speaks up, she still doesn't assert herself. Anne doesn't yell at Sasha or tell her she's going too far. Instead, she just begs and pleads, hoping to seek the bit of humanity of this girl that Anne sees as a friend. Only for Grime to cut things short in demanding Hop Pop.

Anne Grabbing a Sword to Defend Hop Pop: This, on the other hand, was a defining moment for Anne. She spent so much time with the Plantars, risking life and limb for their own personal health and safety in multiple episodes before this one. So in desperation and due to being backed into a corner, she yanks out one of the guards' swords and orders people to back up, including her "best friend." This moment is when Anne is right on the edge of standing up against Sasha, ready to do all she can to help a person, er, frog that treats her right.

Sasha Talking Anne Down: But she isn't fully ready to fight back yet. Sasha sees the panic and desperation and uses that to her advantage and takes control. She speaks calmly, attracting Anne with talks of going home and pointing out the ridiculousness of standing up for Hop Pop. And my blood boils with how easily she does it. It was like a light switch, turning off her intensity just so Sasha appears to be empathetic. Even though she isn't. You can tell just how cold hearted she can be with the way she says the line "End of discussion." Does the way she say that really sound like a person who has Anne's best interests at heart. I wouldn't think so.

Sprig’s Reaction to Anne Lowering the Sword: And neither does Sprig. I mean, look at Sprig's expressions when he sees Anne lower the sword:

First, there's shock and empathy in seeing Anne crumble to Sasha's will. And unlike the fake empathy Sasha offered, you can see that it's real.

Almost as real as the look of pure disgust he gives Sasha afterward. Personally, I can't blame him. Sprig cares deeply for Anne, as the two of them have the most real friendship out of everyone else in the main cast, one built on mutual trust, respect, and willingness to have the other's best interests at heart.

Sprig Standing Up for Anne: This only proves my point. By slingshotting mud (was that mud?) into Sasha's face and praising how incredible Anne is, Sprig proved he really is the true friend that Sasha can only wish to be. And it's just the boost Anne needed to snap out of her stupor and do, in her words, "something that [she] should have done a long time ago."

Anne Standing Up to Sasha: If standing up for Hop Pop was a defining moment for Anne, defending Sprig from Sasha was a moment Anne could never go back on. It was one thing to fight for her found family against soldiers she's never met before. It's something else to do that against Sasha, Anne's best friend, who she pleaded with earlier and was so close to falling into submission for. But not anymore. At this moment, Anne decided to think for herself and do what needed to be done. Rather than let a bully tell her what to do instead.

Grime’s Words of Warning for Sasha: Grime’s little warning is similar to how a commander gives tips to a fellow commander in leading the troops. Because that's what Sasha really seems like. Not a friend, but someone who takes charge and orders what Anne and Marcy should do rather than listen to the opinions of the group. You see it more in "Battle of the Bands," and that's why I think she follows his advice to "stamp this out." Especially with how he finishes his warning: "Fail, and nothing will ever be the same."

There are two things to take away from that.

The fact that Grime was right. Sasha failed, and nothing was the same because of it. Anne now stood up to her and won't take her orders anymore. The thing is, that would have happened if Anne failed or not. Sasha winning may have stamped Anne's spirit a bit, but it still shows a dark side to her that wouldn't have been forgotten for long.

The fact that Sasha vocally admits that she won't let things change. It proves how twisted her mindset on friendship is that Sasha would willingly partake in a sword fight with her "best friend" because she refuses to have Anne standing up for herself. She likes being in charge and refuses to lose her power no matter what needs to be done to keep it.

If Anne defending Sprig is a moment where she crosses the line for the better, Sasha listening to Grime is a moment where she crosses the line for the worst.

“Anne, you don’t have to do this”: I love how Hop Pop tries to talk Anne out of the challenge. It's his life that's on the line, but he cares just as deeply for Anne as she does for him, that letting her duel Sasha, her supposed "best friend," is a choice he doesn't want her to make.

“Yes, I do.”: But Anne isn't about that. She now knows the type of person Sasha is, and letting her get away with more control is something no one should allow. And Anne won't. Not anymore.

The Fight: The fight isn't all that special compared to other action animation, and even to a certain fight scene we see in "True Colors." But as is, it is still pretty tense. I mean, for f**k's sake, it's two thirteen-year-olds fighting each other with swords! It's a miracle that only Sasha got a small scar at the end of it. Plus, while not the show's highest standard yet, there is a lot of effort and attention put into this battle. Anne is a lot more inexperienced and frantic with her attacks, where Sasha shows she was trained well in her time with the toads and is rotten given that she cheated by blinding Anne to force a victory. In a way, it illustrates the desperation the two of them have for winning, making Sasha's actions, in particular, easier to root for Anne.

Anne Wins: So when Anne is victorious, it's all the more satisfying. Primarily thanks to the look on Sasha's face. Look at it:

That is the definition of shock and anger, mostly shock. Sure, Sasha might be ticked that she lost, but it's Anne's words that I think really hit a specific soft spot: "You're not going to push me around anymore." That's probably the first time that Anne called Sasha out on her awful behavior. Saying that she's standing up to her huts, but pointing out how Sasha basically controlled Anne and how that's something she won't allow anymore, could be an eye-opening moment that Sasha needed.

Grime Goes Against the Deal: Ok, full disclosure, while this post is meant to shine a light on how great a scene is, there is one complaint I've got to get out of the way. You see, Grime going against his deal to let Hop Pop go free if Anne wins was way too predictable. Because why the f**k would he?!

I mean, does this seriously look like the face of a man you can trust? This scene may excel at everything else, but this one predictable moment is just a little off to forgive.

The Tower Blowing Up: This predictable moment, however, is done flawlessly. Because there's a difference between a twist and a payoff. Where a twist is meant to shock the audience, a payoff has to, well, pay off a setup brought up earlier in the story. And Wally's boom-shrooms going off at just the right time, transitioning to the most iconic moment of the series? Yeah, that's a payoff done right.

(Also, Wally cursing his one eye is hilarious)

“Lean On Me”: By the way, NOT joking when I say what follows is the most iconic moment of the series. All of which is aided by the inclusion of "Lean On Me" by Bill Withers. I'm not a music theory major and have no idea if the song itself is actually mildly appropriate to the scene, much like how "All Star" and "I Need a Hero" work perfectly for Shrek and Shrek 2, respectively. With that said, "Lean On Me" really does add an extra Umph! power to what follows. And as Matt Braley, series creator, describes, it is the coolest thing, but it will never happen again.

(Apparently, the song was too expensive).

Anne Goes to Save Sasha: Believe it or not, I actually do love this decision. Sasha may be a bad friend...Actually, no. Sasha is definitely a bad friend, but that doesn't mean Anne wants her to die. Not after all the good times that they had with each other. Anne might refuse to let Sasha push her around, but she's not ready to cut Sasha out of her life. Not yet.

Anne Holds Onto Sasha, the Plantars Hold Onto Anne: ...I mean...just f**king that! Through this moment, we get a perfect idea of how Anne's relationships work.

To put it simply, the Plantars raise Anne up and keep her safe, where Sasha just weighs her down and risks her safety. And the saddest part is that Sasha knows this.

“Anne. Maybe you’re better off without me…”: Some say that this could be Sasha trying to get in one last manipulation, using her own sacrifice to stick to Anne for choosing talking frogs over her. While I could see that perspective as a possibility, I personally take this moment as Sasha finally realizing the damage she causes for Anne and admits her faults. Sure, Sasha might have backpedaled in later episodes. What with refusing to change and even directing her anger towards Anne instead of towards herself. But that's because she had time to process these events and unfairly aim her negative feelings at Anne for wanting something better. So it doesn't seem implausible to me that Sasha admitting that Anne's better off without her is something she believed deep down and, for just a moment, allowed herself to accept this heavy truth. I won't deny the possibility that she's still trying to manipulate Anne, but to me, with the tone and expression Sasha has with her admission, you can't fake that. And you can't fake what she does next.

Sasha Lets Go: This...shocked me right down to my core.

I knew Grime would go back on his word, and I assumed the boom-shrooms would pay off somehow. But Sasha, willingly and unhesitantly, letting go of Anne's grip and falling to an expected demise? I...I couldn't have ever predicted that. Not with what we've seen from her before. When I hear how people see this as one last manipulation tactic, I just can't see it. Yes, there are monsters on this planet who would go this far, but I don't think Sasha is one of them. Later episodes like "Battle of the Bands" (despite a rough start) show signs of a person who could be better, and the Season Three trailer hints that she might actually learn from her mistakes. So her letting go, with no way of knowing her survival, could be the first sign that Sasha would one day make that first step. She might not be able to become Anne’s friend again, thanks to burning that bridge in "True Colors," but she'll at least try to become a better person. She just needs to do one good thing in her life first.

Plus, whenever I see this image:

I’m reminded why I could never say that I didn’t like this show.

Grime Saving Sasha: A lesser viewer would say this cheapens Sasha's sacrifice, but not to me. She had no way of knowing Grime would save her, so to her, so this is still a bid decision to go through with, even if she couldn't have gone all the way. In no way does it take away from the sacrifice, just as much as it doesn't strike a chord deep in Anne's heart.

Anne Breaks Down: Because what else would she do?

It's true, Sasha isn't a good friend, and Anne would likely be better off without her. But that's not what Anne's thinking at this moment.

She's thinking about the good fun she had with her best friend.

She was thinking about the person she could lean on.

And she was thinking about how she almost lost this person forever.

So when it all comes crashing down on Anne at once, there's nothing left to do but cry. It is such a real moment that proves one thing: There was effort put into this finale.

IN CONCLUSION

Would I say Amphibia draws me in as much as The Owl House does? No. But it still has my respect. A finale like this proves how hard the writers try to give a good experience. Even if a Schmuck like me thinks that all the pieces don't come together, they still do all they can to make a beloved series.

Season Three is on the way, and while I'm not as hyped as others, I still can't wait to see how it ends. Because if "Reunion" taught me anything, this series really nails an ending.

(And if you want me to do a scene breakdown of the finale in "True Colors," I'll tell you now: I won't...alright, maybe I'll do something for the mid-season premiere. But no promises!)

#amphibia #amphibia reviews #anne boonchuy #sasha waybright #captain grime #hop pop plantar #sprig plantar #reunion amphibia #what i thought about #scene breakdowns

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secretlyatargaryen · 4 years ago

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I really am surprised that when I went into ATLA I knew absolutely nothing about Zuko as a character other than that everyone on tumblr kept saying he had the greatest redemption arc ever. I didn’t even know if it was like, a villain to hero redemption arc or a jerk to less of a jerk redemption arc or a redemption equals death arc or whatever (and I’m not going to get into how one of the problems with how tumblr discusses redemption arc Requirements is that there is never an acknowledgement that there are so MANY different ways to write a redemption arc), but I did know that there was a redemption arc, so I did pick up on a lot of the early groundwork that the show lays to make Zuko sympathetic even as a villain, but even so there were some things that I didn’t expect that ATLA does in interesting ways, and one of them is the reveal of how Zuko got his scar.

The scar is brought into the narrative early on, first by virtue of the fact that it’s hard to not notice, although it’s kinda easy to dismiss at first as just something that makes him look scary and like a villain, but by the third episode we’re given some context for what the scar means to Zuko through his confrontation with Zhao.

Zhao: You can't compete with me. I have hundreds of war ships under my command and you? You're just a banished prince. No home, no allies. Your own father doesn't even want you.

Zuko: You're wrong! Once I deliver the Avatar to my father, he will welcome me home with honor, and restore my rightful place on the throne!

Zhao: If your father really wanted you home, he would have let you return by now, Avatar or no Avatar. But in his eyes you are a failure and a disgrace to the Fire Nation.

Zuko: That's not true.

Zhao: You have the scar to prove it.

Zuko: Maybe you'd like one to match!

Zhao: Is that a challenge?

Zuko: An Agni Kai. At sunset.

Zhao: Very well. It's a shame your father won't be here to watch me humiliate you. I guess your uncle will do.

Zhao walks away. Front view of Zuko, with Iroh in the background.

Iroh: Prince Zuko, have you forgotten what happened last time you dueled a master?

Zuko: I will never forget.

At this point, I don’t know what an agni kai is but it sounds like some macho BS, and given how much of Zuko’s interaction with Zhao is a dick-swinging contest, it’s easy to assume that this is more of Zuko just being an Angry Villain. There are some interesting things that are revealed in this conversation, though.

Zhao is competing with Zuko for Angriest Villain, which is usually a good set up for Villain Redemption. So far, so good.

Zuko’s a prince but he’s been banished. His father doesn’t want him. Zuko disagrees. Loudly and Angrily. Zuko is most definitely wrong. We get a feel for why Zuko is doing what he’s doing.

Wow Zhao way to rub salt into the wound. The show has already told us that Zuko is a teenager, but this is another scene that emphasizes just how young Zuko actually is. We see Zuko disrespect Zhao in typical spoiled royal teenager fashion but then we get this adult being unnecessarily cruel to a kid, including expressing joy at the idea of humiliating him in front of his parent/parental figure. This also emphasizes how little respect Zuko gets within even his own nation as royalty.

Zuko’s whole persona of “I’m the prince and also a scary villain and I definitely do not need to calm down, uncle!” is not really working out too well for him.

We learn the scar is somehow connected to his status as disgraced royalty.

Okay, so an agni kai is a duel, and that’s definitely how he got the scar.

The story behind the scar is vaguely alluded to here. What I assumed going into this based on this conversation was something like, Zuko challenged a master to a duel and lost (gaining the injury which resulted in the scar) and was thus disgraced and banished.

What’s kind of interesting about this is that upon my watch I assumed that this was something Zuko had done wrong. Since so much of Zuko’s early personality is I Am Ready To Fight, it’s easy to assume from this conversation that what happened was that Zuko challenged the wrong person to prove he was big and bad, faced someone who was more big and bad, and lost. Macho BS. I also assumed it had something to do with succession because Zuko really cares about "his throne" and was politically disgraced as a result of what happened, so I imagined that Zuko tried to go for a petty power grab or something. Probably the kind of thing that happens all the time in Evil Fire Land.

This is standard character building, especially for a sympathetic villain, or an antihero, or just a jaded character. Sometimes this literary device is referred to as “the wound,” or the thing in a character’s backstory that drives their psychology and inner conflict. It’s usually done in either one of two ways.

Character was a Terrible Person and made a Terrible Mistake and is Paying for It

Character was once a Bright and Sunny Innocent Child but then Everything Turned to Shit

What’s interesting about how ATLA reveals this with Zuko is that they do a kind of bait and switch, where it appears to be the first one but is actually revealed to be the second one. For other examples of this trope in the show, Iroh is pretty clearly the first one, and Aang is pretty clearly the second one.

Remember how I thought that Zuko had challenged the wrong person and lost because he’s a macho idiot teenager?

Gather ‘round and I shall tell you the tale of how Macho Idiot Teenager was once an Adorable Ponytail Unicorn

Here it comes, the Macho BS. You are a Baby step down.

“You know I don’t really think that we should be using new recruits as human meat shields. That’s kinda evil.”

Well, that's reasonable, actually. Apparently that was the wrong thing to say, though!

In Evil Fire Land we solve all of our conflicts with a Duel to the Death, of course! Fight a military general? Yeah, I got this! Ohmygod, calm down, Prince Fight Everyone

What’s happening now, Oh my lord

You know, I don’t really think -

Sir, this is a child.

That’s...really intense.

So yeah. I thought Zuko got banished for fighting but he actually got banished because he didn’t fight. I thought he got into a fight because he was being an idiot but he actually was being a Good Person. Obviously I didn’t think the Fire Lord was going to be a nice person but you gotta be a huge dick to burn the face of a crying, surrendering thirteen year old just for having morals. Also it’s your son and heir and you do it in front of a huge crowd. This is before we find out about all the Bad Shit going on in the First Fire Nation Family which Kinda Explains It.

This is one of, if not the most intensely disturbing scene in the show and it manages to be that in a show that’s entirely bloodless (take note, Game of Thrones) and doesn’t even show you the actual scarring scene. It helps make Zuko sympathetic but not just in a This Character Has Suffered way or a This Character Was Once a Nice Person way (because the indications that Zuko has more to him than just macho badness are peppered throughout the first season), it also helps explain Zuko’s personality and motivations and you can actually see that the thirteen year old boy and the bald ponytail jerk are the same character, whereas lesser characterization would increase the contrast between the two characters for dramatic effect. The effect here is actually more dramatic. One of the things that makes Zuko redeemable is that we aren't just privy to how he became the way he is, we get to see that he is actually still the same character in a lot of ways as the child who spoke up in defense of his nation's soldiers, and that his bad actions are motivated not just by that deep emotional wound but by extreme psychological conditioning. I've talked a lot about Zuko and cognitive dissonance because it's strongly tied to what makes him a believable and interesting character.

Also Zuko didn’t just not fight because it wouldn’t be honorable to fight dear old dad, his father actually manufactures the whole situation so that there was really no way Zuko was going to be able to fight back. I’ve written about how Ozai is manipulative before because I don’t see a lot of discussion of that and the show gets it across in some subtle ways, and this action by Ozai is as manipulative as it is brutally violent. That’s something that hits you as you learn more about the dynamics in Zuko’s family. Zuko isn’t just sympathetic because he is a Sad Woobie who Once was Innocent and Good, his family really did a number on him, oh my god.

#atla #zuko #atla meta #ozai #zhao #avatar the last airbender #abuse cw

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partnersatfazbear · 4 years ago

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Baby: A Security Breach Theory

Before I start, there are spoilers for Fazbear Frights: The Cliffs and the State of Play Security Breach trailer.

I want to discuss a few things I’ve seen hardly mentioned, specifically regarding Baby and her role in SB.

I have some hope William will return, actually...

(Edit: I've added some things since the initial post.)

First of all. I didn’t discover this, someone on twitter pointed it out weeks ago. While most people think the hand at the end of the SB trailer shows a Nightmare animatronic, someone noticed it’s somewhat similar to ScrapBaby:

Also keep in mind that The Cliffs was originally supposed to release AFTER Security Breach, but due the virus and expanding the game, the game was delayed while the book released on schedule.

I didn’t put too much thought into this, after all... why would Baby still be around? Why the glowing purple light signaling “Hey, this is obviously William Afton”?

But then The Cliffs came out. The Baby stand-in, Eleanor, is featured in the epilogue. She’s described as a long-necked, female endoskeleton. (Don’t ask me why she isn’t masquerading in Sara’s body still).

I think the hand at the end of the SB trailer IS some form of Baby. The purple light isn’t so much a red herring as it is showing, in my interpretation, Baby’s desire to make her father proud (see her FNAF 6 true ending line: “I’ll make you proud, Daddy!”) I won’t say it necessarily shows William’s influence over her; I mean, all fathers have some presence in their daughter’s lives.

I said off the bat the voice at the end of the trailer is Elizabeth. I still think it sounds like her, not the nightguard.

I think Elizabeth will reappear as the endo in SB and not only is SHE the one truly trying to revive Glitchtrap (possibly as the AlmagAfton, OR, whatever comes after Trash Rabbit in the FF books-- we don’t know yet). I know it’s canon that William chose Vanny, but hear me out.

Remember Elizabeth and Charlie’s relationship in the novels? I think this will parallel that! Elizabeth and Vanny could both have a sibling rivalry for William’s attention... I think there will be a rivalry here. I think this could be even more amazing if combined with my Vanny/Vanessa twins theory. Maybe William is using Vanny just to coerce Elizabeth. There’s many ways it could go.

But why feature Baby so prominently? I am unaware of Scott having any daughters. I think characters like Charlie/Charlotte, Baby/Elizabeth, Susie, ect are kind of living a fantasy-- HOWEVER, this is just a thought. A presumptuous one. I just think it’s worth noting when examining the creator’s mindset. I could be wrong and I don’t want to make assumptions.

I think the last thing I wanna say about this all is... where would William even go, presuming he’s dead at the end of The Cliff’s epilogue? Would he go to Hell for real? Is his spirit lost on earth and therefore able to be brought back? Has he taken refuge in EndoBaby? (Unlikely, considering the implications...)

I think EndoBaby will bring back William a... er, fourth time? (This is something after Glitchtrap/AlmagAfton, IMO, something we haven’t seen yet)

Concluding, I don’t have answers for Scrapbaby, or elements of Baby being present EXCEPT the chip that Michael took--which, you’d presume was burned/melted or ScrapBaby already held it in FNAF 6. In the FF epilogues we got The Puppet, who presumably burned too. So it’s not impossible that someone or something saved her from the fire. There’s even the theory that all the scrap/burned parts were retrieved for PizzaPlex’s museum elements to consider. (Although I’m still salty if this is true, considering Michael and Henry basically got yeeted into the fire and forgotten and their journey was meaningless.)

Thoughts?

Also, just search “fnaf theory” under my blog for other theories I’ve done. =:3

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thebraingremlinsaremad · 3 years ago

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Daily Blog #15: August 22, 2021

Dollar Tree is honestly pretty fucking awesome 👌👌👌

I set my alarm for like 6:25 this morning, but it took 6 minutes for the "Horsin' Around" theme song instrumental to wake me up. I was pretty tired lol. I just dismissed it and went back to sleep.

I only went back to sleep because I knew I had another alarm set for 7:00. That got me up.

I should mention that this was still in the RV over an hour away from the house.

After I got up, I went to go get a shower, and did so successfully.

Unfortunately, I had forgotten my brush this time and had to do it afterwards after my hair had a bit of time to dry, which did make it a little more difficult lol.

I got dressed and grabbed my stuff, putting it into my car.

I made it a point to see and say "see you later" to my grandparents before I left for the flea market.

My dad insisted that I stayed to say goodbye to my mom, so I left.

I did NOT have cell service up there, as was mentioned in my previous 2 blogs of which I could only post today, so finding my way was a tiny bit difficult until I got some service to ask Google to take me to "...".

It worked and I got there.

On my drive, I listened to 1 by Simple Kid, a CD I had previously purchased at a Dollar Tree location.

I got a call from the guy at the flea market saying that I had some people there waiting for me. He asked how far away I was, to which I said "about 10 minutes." Ironically, that call made me miss my exit, as Google couldn't talk during the call, and added about 3 minutes to my arrival time lmao.

I did sell the Xbox that he said someone was interested in. I got $40 for it. I spent 27¢ on it. Pretty good return if you ask me.

I couldn't sell it with anything other than a power cord because the controller and AV cables I had been using to play it there were for my personal console. I'm just glad I can actually hook my Xbox up and stop having to drag them to the flea market along with a small library of games.

Not too long after I sold the Xbox, someone came in and asked if I wanted to see some electronics he had in his car. I went out with him. It was a pair of 3ft speakers and a Pioneer audio system with dual cassette decks (although neither of them works) and a 25 Disc CD-changer, as well as the standard AM/FM tuner. Additionally, there was a Fisher amplifier and AM/FM tuner as well as a Fisher Direct Drive turntable. He said he wanted $60 for em, but before that he casually, and probably accidentally, dropped that he was just gonna take em to the thrift store.

Big mistake.

I got em for $35 lmao. THERE GOES MOST OF MY PROFIT.

Oh well.

I tested everything. As I mentioned, the cassette decks don't work, but everything else does apart from the turntable needing a new stylus.

I posted some new photos of the shop to Facebook, and someone soon DMed me about a stereo system.

I priced everything, and it turns out I have about $300 worth of equipment from that deal, the Fisher amp and tuner being worth about $150.

The buyer will hopefully show up next weekend, for he wants to buy the Fisher stuff ($185 with the turntable), the 3ft speakers, an 8-track deck, and a Kenwood deck we've had for a week or two.

The speakers are listed for $50 (and are worth around $100-150), the Kenwood Deck for $50 as well, and the 8-track for $35. That makes it about $320 in equipment. Since he's buying so much, I'll knock it down to $270 and essentially give him the speakers or cassette deck for free lol.

Apart from that stuff, not much happened at the flea market. I sold some records, cassettes, CDs and I think 2 DVDs. One person bought a VHS tape? That money was the other guy's though. Oh well xD.

I can't say that I didn't miss my wonderful partner while on the trip. I actually brought along the stuffed animal they gave me (who's name is Greg) and snuggled with him both nights.

I was very happy to hear from them UwU.

They let me rant and I let them rant.

I honestly give them too much responsibility over me xD. I'm like, "Okay, I'm gonna do this. HOLD ME TO IT."

I know I can't hold myself to anything I personally say (this blog being the only exception apparently), but I listen to them pretty well I think 🤔. If they tell me, "No, you don't need that VCR," so long as it's not some weird specialty thing, like a worldwide VCR 🥵, I'll be like "Yeah, you rite bro."

I love you man xD. You control my craziness pretty well. I'm so thankful for you UwU.

#relationshipgoals

So part way through the flea market day, I went over to Dollar Tree to buy some snack, but ended up looking through the CDs to see if there was anything good. I took photos of about 18 CDs and flipped through them online for the remainder of the flea market day.

I deleted the photos of the ones I didn't want and kept those that I liked. Surprisingly, I ended up buying 13 CDs there, but not before dropping them on the floor like the dumbass I am.

Also, sorry for all the nerd shit I spilled on your lap earlier. No one cares about amps and tuners xD.

I'M LISTENING TO ONE OF THE DOLLAR TREE CDS RIGHT NOW THO.

I already transferred over to my online library on iBroadcast and put the disc into my CD changer, which is now holding 164 CDs.

Its max capacity is 300 discs 🥵

WHY AM I NERD

Oh well

I like being a nerd gurl

Also maybe a technosexual 👀

I get really excited over some electronics. Like. REALLY excited.

Some editing VCRs are like "Holy shit that is SEXY. Look at those goddamn VU meters 🥵. And hhhh there are like 7 inputs on this thing and individual controls for left and right audio gain, not to mention Hi-Fi S-VHS recording. Hhhhhhhhhhh please gimme 😭. Why are you so expensive?"

I uh, mean, uh, *cough* look, pretty lights.

Oh yeah, I was gonna say the album I was listening to xD. MAN I GOT SIDETRACKED.

It's 37 Everywhere by Punchline. Def give it a listen; it's pretty heccin good.

Another notable album I picked up was Page One by Steven Page. I very much like the first track, "A New Shore." It's quite catchy and he has a great voice imo.

Also at dollar tree, I bought a regular bag of Fieras and 2 bags of Fieras Sticks, which were marked down to 75¢/bag because they're expiring soon.

I honestly like the generic Dollar Tree version of Takis more than actual Takis. They're a lot more flavorful when it comes to the lime, but also hotter at the same time.

Don't get the hot nacho ones tho. Hot nacho? More like hot pile of shit.

HAH

Goteem.

They're not that good xD.

THE REGULAR ONES ARE FIRE THO

"How do you do fellow kids?"

I got home and started working on putting the CDs onto my computer, and then onto iBroadcast, but not without first adding The Music Man to my digital library, something I had neglected for a month or two. The CD had just been sitting there lol.

I also switched my digital file for "The Black Parade" to that of the uncensored CD, which I had purchased before I event started working over 2 months ago.

MAN I'M LAZY

I eventually get around to shit tho lol. I guess it's just a matter of priority.

What usually takes priority is digging through everything to find something that I forgot about but then remembered, making a mess in the process that I would then have to clean up, at least partially.

I think the album just ended. I've been writing for a while xD. I'ma start "I Made You Something" by The Island of the Misfit Toys.

I'll tell you where that album came from in a minute.

In the meantime, where was I?

I kinda lost my train of thought despite reading up to see where I was. Oh well. On I go.

I ate dinner and kept working on those CDs, eventually putting my clothes from the week into the washer.

I FORGOT TO PUT MY SHAPING UNDERWEAR IN. FUCKING HELL MAN.

I wanted to wash em for this week 😭

No tight pants for Leonna I guess qwq.

Meanwhile, the box of my CD album cases is overflowing. I need another box.

I keep all of the album artworks in a big CD folder. That's almost full.

I wanna fill my entire CD changer. That's one of my big goals in life. Idk why, but I just wanna legitimately fill the entire thing.

My clothes are in the dryer now. I don't think I have the time (or energy) to fold them tonight. I'll leave that for tomorrow morning before work.

And God. Fucking. Damnit. I start school again on Wednesday. NOT looking forward to that, and neither are my 2 coworkers. We already have low enough staff, but only the two of them working is gonna be a pain in the ass.

I'll still work Saturdays.

I need to contact my guidance counselor to get out of the gym class I signed up for. I scheduled this shit before I found out I was trans, and I don't wanna deal with the fucking locker room situation 🙄 I have far more important matters.

Okay so anyway, the album I'm listening to came from a cassette. I bought this cassette a few months ago at the flea market along with a few others. The reason I bought them? They were all newer cassette releases from the 2010's, and they're all actually pretty good music from very indie bands.

Currently getting mad at iBroadcast's compression algorithm. It's unnaturally fucking anything over -10db up. Oh well, there's not really anything I can do about it.

I have like 13GB of music on my phone btw. That's about 3.5k songs on 268 albums.

I'm kind of an audiophile, but I'm too cheap to pay for a lossless service. Oh well.

They do actually have a lossless service on iBroadcast, but once again, too cheap.

Someone just sent me a friend request who legitimately posted that BLM and the democratic party are hate groups.

BLOCK.

Goodbye ho.

I don't get that. They call the democratic party a hate group when they hate people like me, and I, being more of a democrat although not fully because the 2-party system is fucked, think nothing more of them than they're very wrong about certain things, especially, as shown, that black people, as well as asian, Indian, native, and people of all ethnicities and backgrounds, are not equal to white people.

Yeh.

Totally.

You go buddy.

Anyway, yeah, I can, and do, convert music and video from analog formats to digital files in order for me to archive and listen to whenever and wherever I please. I've actually made a bit of a business out of it, but I don't get too much work from it. At least I'm not overloading myself xD.

I honestly have so much more to say, but I should probably go to sleep soon.

A few final shoutouts to the following people and companies:

-Dollar Tree

-Steven Page

-Broken World Media

-The Island of Misfit Toys

-Simple Kid

-Punchline

-My incredible partner QwQ I love you so much. Thanks for being the best all the time. I hope I can give you the best life ever.

Anyway I suppose this is goodnight. Lmk if you want a full list of the CDs I bought today! I'll link that song by Steven Page here.

And here's a good song from Simple Kid

I really like music lol. Enjoy these pieces.

Anyway, goodnight lol.

Lots of love,

-Leonna.

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gascon-en-exil · 5 years ago

Note

So I've heard the parley scene in AM is really bad. Can you explain what's wrong with it?

This sounds like a good time to use that handy event gallery feature to transcribe the conversation so we can talk about it. I haven’t done a full line-by-line reading of anything in a very long time.

Incidentally, Hubert is also present in this scene although he has no lines, which is highly unusual for the way this game handles who appears in story cutscenes. I just thought that was worth remarking on.

Dimitri: Professor. Do you think Edelgard will show up?

Byleth: “She will.” or “I doubt it.” Choice leads to...

???: “Well, well. It’s been a long time, Professor. And hello to you too, DImitri.” or “Sorry to disappoint you, Professor.”

This is Byleth’s only line in the scene, and I love how it reinforces that Edelgard is hung up on them even in the route where Byleth matters least. She acknowledges Dimitri, the leader of the army with whom she’s holding a parley, second - and not at all if you doubt her and she gets pouty about it. Also, imagine a Byleth-less AM where it would Dedue at Dimitri’s side instead, and how much better that would have been.

Dimitri: Edelgard. I did not think you would actually accept my request.

Edelgard: Call it a whim. Well then? What did want to talk about?

Call it an OOC whim, because she never so much as suggests any such thing on the other routes even when she’s losing.

Dimitri: I will get straight to the point. Why did you start this war? There had to a way change things in your territory without the need for so many senseless casualties.

Edelgard: It may be hard to believe, but this is the way that leads to the fewest casualties in the end. Don’t you see?

Dimitri: How could I? Countless people have already lost their lives in this conflict.

Edelgard: The longer we took to revolt, the more victims this crooked world would have claimed. I weighed the victims of war against the victims of the world as it is now, and I chose the former. I believe that I have chosen the best path, the only path.

Dimitri: Even after seeing the faces of those who have suffered the ravages of war, you would still force them to throw their lives away for the future? You are obsessively devoted to this war and deaf to the screams of its victims. You cannot change the cycle of the strong dominating the weak with a method like that.

Edelgard: You’re wrong. That very cycle is exactly what I have devoted my life and my power to destroying. If after all of this you believe the weak will still be weak, that is only because they are too used to relying on others instead of on themselves.

This reinforces three concepts central to Edelgard’s character: the ends justify the means, dependence on others makes you weak, and it’s acceptable for her to make life-or-death decisions for an entire continent because she has the power and (allegedly) the understanding to do so.

Dimitri: Yes. Perhaps someone as strong as you are can claim something like that. But you cannot force that belief onto others. People aren’t as strong as you think they are. There are those who cannot live without their faith...and those who cannot go on once they have lost their reason for living. Your path will not be able to save them. It is the path of the strong, and so, it could only benefit the strong.

Dimitri remarks that Edelgard is operating from a place of extreme privilege as emperor, but he also means strength in a different context which he’ll expound upon later. I’ve seen people cherry pick the line about people who can’t live without faith as evidence that Dimitri thinks religion is necessary, but that’s ignoring what he says below.

Edelgard: Heh, so you consider me strong, do you?

Of course, because Edelgard makes a big point of never showing her emotions to anyone but Byleth and projecting an image of strength in place of them. This is markedly in contrast to Dimitri who allows himself to be publicly vulnerable in ugly and unsettling ways. It’s inverted gender coding twice over.

Edelgard: Even if one clings to their faith, the goddess will never answer them. Countless souls will be lost that way. Living without purpose. And I can be counted as those who have died that way as well. But that’s why I must change this world, on behalf of the silent and weak!

So now she claims to speak for the weak. This implies some interesting things about why Edelgard is an atheist (or as much as one can be in a world where your deity is living inside your teacher), although it falls a bit flat when one considers Dimitri’s Goddess Tower event where he essentially admits to being a deist himself. They’re actually about on the same page there, but this conversation doesn’t indicate it.

Dimitri: And do you intend to become a goddess yourself? Will you steal the power to take action from the broken-hearted masses you claim to defend? The ones who can truly change the way of the world are not the rulers, but the people. Pushing your own sense of justice and your own ideals onto even one other person is nothing more than self-righteousness.

Edelgard: Maybe it is self-righteousness, but it doesn’t matter. Someone has to take action and put a stop to this world’s endless, blood-stained history!

Proto-democracy alert, and I don’t mean from Edelgard. I’m a bit shocked that Edelgard is willing to admit that she’s being self-righteous, but she immediately pivots back into her usual spiel and refusal to compromise her beliefs even the slightest.

Dimitri: Do you not believe in the power of the people to join together and rise up? Humans are weak creatures. But they are also creatures who help each other, support each other, and together, find the right path. I have learned that humans are capable of all that from the professor...and from everyone in my life.

I hate that Dimitri singles out Byleth here and not, you know, any of the numerous other people who’ve been at his side supporting and loving him for much longer and with more than just irrelevant dialogue options and vacant smiles. Nevertheless, Dimitri understands the value of community on account of his experiences and his own development. That’s some solid, thematically cohesive writing there. See what the other leaders miss out on by never changing during their stories...and no, having the hots for the self-insert does not constitute changing.

Edelgard: I doubt a highborn person like yourself could know how the poor feel or what motivates them. This is nonsense. Though, I’m finally starting to understand how you feel. But that makes it even clearer to me that we can never fully understand each other.

Dimitri: I feel the same. I finally understand...what you believe is right.

An obnoxious moment of the pot calling the kettle black that also ignores that Dimitri spent most of the timeskip homeless, spending time in the slums of Fòdlan, being hailed as a (frightening) hero of the common people. Dimitri doesn’t argue the point though; he sees that Edelgard is set in her (demonstrably incorrect) beliefs and that further discussion is useless. Do note who shuts down the conversation first though, after sidestepping Dimitri’s point about the value of supporting each other.

Edelgard: Good-bye, DImitri.

Dimitri: Wait, Edelgard. There is something I must give you. This is for you. Use it to cut a path to the future you wish for. And I will rise up to meet you there...El.

Edelgard: ...

I left this bit in for the transition as well as to undercut the irony of what Edelgard ultimately does with this dagger. The future she wishes for is to stand on her own - even if it means killing an old friend and dying herself.

After this the scene cuts to a flashback of Dimitri giving Edelgard the dagger before she left the Kingdom, followed by Edelgard admitting that she had forgotten that memory and the two of them reflecting on it briefly before parting. I’ve cut this part as it’s not relevant to the parley.

Now that I’ve written it all out I have to say that the scripting of this scene is not inherently terrible. It works if you assume that Edelgard is metaphorically sticking her fingers in her ears through the whole thing and spouting her rehearsed, blatantly flawed rhetoric about human nature and assumptions about Dimitri’s character that prove that she doesn’t know him very well at all and doesn’t care to. I’ve read that several lines are markedly different in Japanese, although not necessarily better? Either way this is a scene of two people talking past each other repeatedly that accomplishes nothing except to set the stage for the final cutscene, underscoring that AM was never really about politics so much as people at its narrative center.

#Fire Emblem #FE16 #Fire Emblem Three Houses #Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd #Edelgard von Hresvelg #Azure Moon

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etlunainmorte · 5 years ago

Text

✒ P.S. I Love You ✒

***

Thank you! (Y/N) mouthed her gratitude as she pointed at V's pocket.

And then, as V felt for the thing in his pocket, the thing she put a few hours earlier, the lovers finally vanished into the night,... into sweet delight.

He smiled as he took a deep sigh of relief. It's finally over. He succeeded!

"Okay, folks! Show's over!" Avery clapped her hands like a bossy head chef and brought them back to reality from their own scattered thoughts. "We have a wedding to settle, and I'm inviting you!"

"W - " Nico muttered, at a loss for words at what Avery just announced. "But, we're done here! We finished the mission for ya. Isn't it a bother for both you and Roman to still have us around?"

Avery raised her eyebrows and rolled her eyes. "Well, duh. We're friends already, aren't we? Isn't that right, Roman?"

"You can say that again!" Roman happily answered as Griffon landed on his shoulder.

"I insist!" Avery looked at V and smiled at him. "And wear something decent for once, V! We'll help you and Nico with your outfit. In fact," She looked up, seemingly in deep thought, and brought her fingers to her chin, tapping it with them. She looked at V once more and pointed at him, a mischievous grin on her lips. " ... I think we should also invite that lazy Devil Hunter from Devil May Cry! Who was that again?"

V chuckled at the title she gave his twin brother. "Dante is his name."

"Oh! Can we invite Nero, too? And Kyrie?" Nico excitedly asked.

"Who's Nero and Kyrie?"

"Nero's the one with the God awful singing voice!" The Artisan proudly declared. "And Kyrie is his lady love!"

Avery couldn't help but knit her brows in confusion and disbelief. "I see. Well, sure! Poor girlfriend, though, having to listen each day to that!"

Nico, Roman, and Avery all laughed at the mere thought of this, until everyone noticed the Hispanic guy being comfortable with the demonic bird on his shoulder.

"Sweetheart, aren't you afraid of that bird?" His fiancée questioned him with mirth in her eyes.

To this, Roman only bashfully puffed his chest out and proudly brought his hands to his hips like a superhero. "I've grown much stronger and braver! And it was all thanks to V!" He, then, turned sideways to Griffon, who was looking at him like he has some evil intention towards him. "And to this amazing bird, too! Isn't that right, buddy?"

Griffon took this as a cue and widely opened his beak. "Ohohoho! Aww! So ye're brave now, huh?!" The bird told him in a clear voice that surprised Avery, made Nico burst out laughing, and made V smirk in amusement.

And Roman? The poor guy was simply at a loss for words.

And this only made Griffon more mischievous. He raised his beak and swayed his head from left to right like what he did the first time he met Roman, speaking in a hilariously loud tone. "FFFUUUCCCKKK YYYEEEAAAHHH! IT'S BARBEQUE TTTIIIMMMEEE!"

Roman lost it and fainted.

***

Three days later,...

"I pronounce you man and wife." The minister announced. "You may now kiss the bride."

Everyone cheered as Avery grabbed Roman by the waist, bent him, and gave him a passionate kiss.

V and Nico, who were both looking smart and gorgeous with the outfit the couple chose for them, applauded and chuckled at how Avery handled her blushing husband, Roman.

Nico glanced at V and nudged him on the arm with an elbow. "Lookin' really smokin' hot right there, V!" She said with a wide smile as she looked at his ensemble of crisp, jet - black coat, tie, and pants, matched with a snow white - colored shirt and a pair of leather vintage shoes. His neatly slicked back jet - black hair, the perfectly polished metal cane on his hand, and the perfume he bought for the special occasion with the money he just earned from the mission gave him a truly and magnificently virile aura that made all the guests look at him, either in curiosity or something entirely different altogether.

The poet smiled as he nodded at her and her bright yellow bodycon dress matched with a ridiculously huge sunflower on her hair. "And I could say the same for you."

"Hehe, thanks!"

V smiled and took something out from the pocket of his coat, the thing that (Y/N) gave her three days ago that was, apparently, the source of the tremendous power that enabled him to beat the evil doctor.

It was her own locket which she kept close to her heart until her reunion with Victor. And she gave it to him that day.

With a gentle smile on his face and a soft look in his eyes, he carefully opened the locket, revealing a photo of her that was taken during that day when she first met Victor.

"Everything is alright now, (Y/N)." V whispered as the guests went on cheering for the newly wed. "Your great grand niece is safe and happily married.”

As Nico observed how V looked at the precious locket, her eyes widened, suddenly remembering something really important.

"Oh, I almost forgot!" Nico blabbered, making V look at her in curiosity. "I have somethin' for ya."

"And what would that be?" V asked with a smirk as he hid the locket back to his pocket.

With a ginger smile, Nico produced something from her huge handbag and handed it to V, who looked at it with utter confusion.

"And this is?"

"The latest model of Somesang Universe. But I tweaked it for ya."

"Tweaked? How so?" V asked as he looked at the sleek and fragile black cellphone on his hand.

"I put some special programs of mine in it that could still let ya record all kinds of noises produced by all types of creatures. Ghosts, Demons, Mermaids, ya name it! And you can also play games in it, if ya want. Oh! I definitely didn't put Nero's singing in its music album, trust me!"

"What is it, Nico?!" Nero, who heard his name being mentioned by the Artisan, turned and gave her a suspicious look.

"Nothin', psycho!"

"Whatever."

"This looked,... really expensive." V told her as he humbly tried to give the phone back to her. "I do not know if I'm worthy of having a thing such as this."

Nico smiled as she pushed the phone back to V. "I insist! It's a way of sayin' thanks for letting me tag along on the mission."

"I see. Well, I appreciate this gift. Thank you so much. I will take care of it."

"Nah, don't mention it." Nico said as she lightly punched V's arm. "Actually, I put somethin' else in it. I found somethin' truly groundbreaking the other day when I went to visit grandma Adelaide."

"Who's Adelaide?"

"That's Victor and (Y/N)'s grandchild!"

"Oh, my!" Shame on me, I have actually forgotten to ask her name.

"Anyway, if you open the contacts list, you'll find her - "

"Hey, man!" Dante, who was looking really uncomfortable with his formal wear, interrupted the conversation as he hid behind V. "I'm not really good at this!" His twin whispered as he cautiously looked around like he was being stalked by Demons.

"What brings you here?"

"It's that crazy woman! She - "

"THERE YOU ARE!" All of them heard Avery's voice as she and Roman walked towards Dante. She totally ignored V and grabbed the legendary Devil Hunter's arm. "You're not escaping me this time! You'll join the game!"

"W - what did I do to deserve this, señorita?!" Dante complained as Avery dragged him forcefully towards the center where a lot of people were already waiting.

"Oh, nothing! I just wanted revenge for denying me a week ago!" She declared with a mischievous wink.

"I'm not being paid for this!"

"V, Nico, you should join! And Mr. Nero and Ms. Kyrie, too!" Roman invited them as he gestured towards the crowd. "And Avery's cousin just arrived from Paris!"

A few moments later, V found himself next to Dante, Nero, and the rest of the male guests as they waited for Roman to remove a garter from Avery's thigh using only his teeth. The man waved it happily, making the men cheer wildly.

"What is wrong with this people?" Nero asked, disgusted at the display of unbridled male fantasy before him.

Dante sighed in disbelief. "It's a traditional wedding game wherein males try to catch the bride's garter thrown by the groom. Same thing goes for the bride who tosses her bouquet for the females. The couple who catches the garter and the bouquet is said to be destined to be together. But, that is just an old wives' tale."

"What?! I don't wanna be with anybody else other than Kyrie!" Nero, who took the game way too seriously, blurted out as he drew back in fear.

Dante patted the youth on the shoulder. "I feel you, kid. Don't wanna catch it! Unless there's a hot babe in there somewhere, then,..."

"Hey, V!" Griffon, who was wearing a smart bow tie around his neck, landed on the poet's shoulder and whispered to him. "So, uh, me and the housecat surveyed the females, and we found yer perfect match! It's the one who just arrived from, ahh, Yourip! Yeah, that's it. Wait, what's Yourip?"

V chuckled at what his familiar just said. "It's Europe. And I' am not interested in this game."

"Aww, come on, Shakespeare! Don't ya wanna have a girlfriend?!"

"Yeah, give it a chance, V!" Dante teased as he patted the poet's shoulder.

V only shook his head, chuckling at the mere thought of him having a girlfriend. Who would love him, anyway, when he's not as strong as Dante, or as witty as Nero - ?

"ALRIGHT THEN, FUCK YEAH!" Griffon shrieked as he let out a small amount of electricity that went directly to V's right arm, startling him and making him raise it in response. The cane on his right hand, which was raised high above his head, then, caught the garter in perfect timing, making Nero and Dante cheer and applaud!

"Nice one right there, V!" Nero cheered as he clapped his hands. "And Little Chicken!"

V brought his cane down and looked at the lacy thing on his cane, and before he could say something else or even react, the females cheered as Avery tossed her bouquet. There was a strange noise as some females screamed, Black Panther! and drew back. Apparently, Shadow, who was wearing a huge pink lace bow around her neck, pushed someone from the crowd, making her stumble forward and catch the bouquet in the process.

"Mission accomplished!" Griffon laughed menacingly as he flew away from V before the poet could say anything and landed on the table where the huge vanilla - flavored eight layered cake was, starting to nibble on Roman's part on the treat. Shadow arrived there a few seconds later and started eating Avery's part.

"Come here, V!" Roman said with a huge smile ( still unaware of what's happening to the wedding cake ) as he took the poet's arm and dragged him towards the center. V arrived just in time to see Avery dragging the lucky girl who caught the bouquet towards the center to where he was. Avery looked up at V, smiled at him, and moved to the side, revealing to him the girl who was now holding her bouquet.

And as he looked at the girl, he couldn't help but get mesmerized and emotional at the same time. The girl, who laid her (E/C) - colored eyes on his green ones, felt the same as some kind of unknown emotion started to form in her chest.

She brushed a wayward (H/C) lock away from her face and placed it behind her ear. She, then, gave him that smile that V was longing to see once more.

And with an achingly familiar voice that he thought he would never hear ever again, she spoke to him.

"Haven't we met?" She asked him.

"My,... Evening Star,..." V whispered as he smiled at her,...

***

TO BE CONTINUED

***

✒ @la-vita , @micaelagua , @v-vic , @birdgirl69 , @beyond-the-mirror , and @cantcopewithlosingv . ✒

***

✒✒✒

***

#devil may cry 5 #vitale sparda #p.s. i love you #v x reader #v x you #epilogue

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fatherquesadilla · 4 years ago

Text

Orion D. Black -They/Them · @DungeonCommandr

4th Jul 2020 from TwitLonger

my statement

"It's July 3th and I no longer work for Wizards of the Coast. I no longer work on D&D, the little that I did. This is going to be a long thread and my last for quite a while, so bear with me.

I took the job for two reasons. The first was for the dream. To escape poverty doing what I love, writing and making games. The second was to make D&D welcoming to the millions who are scorned by it.

A lot of people had hope for D&D that they carried with me. While some people were upset to see me work for a corporation that overshadows indie, others hoped that I would be able to make real change. I tried. I failed. And I lost a lot.

Liking a tweet or post, RTing, or even following people who speak ill of WotC can lose you your job in an instant. That's why you never see it happen. @Zbeg is 100% correct. It's a silencing tool. I can say more now.

Kindness doesn't replace respect. Working within your comfort zone doesnt support change. Most people in that group were not ready for me to be there, a nonbinary Black person who would actually critique their problems. Idk what they expected.

I worked hard for a very long time. I got a lot of smiles and vocal support, but it was followed by inaction and being ignored. My coworkers were frustrated for me, and still are now. I confided in them often, cried on shoulders on a few occasions.

I realized at one point that leadership had given me 2 assignments over about 5 months. It was mostly me asking project leads for work, searching out opportunities. Leadership didnt really care about me or my growth. I had to.

I firmly believe that I was a diversity hire. There was no expectation for me to do much of anything. I probably disrupted them by being vocal and following up. It didnt matter if I was supported by seniors and positive.

I think genuine people proposed me as an option and it was accepted because it would look like a radical positive change. It would help quiet vocal outrage. And because I had to stay silent, it was a safe bet.

I started to lose all of my confidence. I started to lose trust in myself. After finding out that I wasnt getting an extension or FTE, I resolved to just finish things out and take care of myself. To stop fighting and to just survive, quietly. But it just kept getting worse.

They would talk about how they're going to start working on treating staff better, retaining contractors, actually answering questions. How much they were invested in diversity and change even though they hired two cis white dudes into two big leadership positions during this. One of whom claimed that he doesnt know what he's doing. No shit. I never want to hear "maybe they just hire the best person for the job" again.

I found out that some of my work was stolen, which destroyed me. It lined up with a project they were going to do and I had sent it in to someone in leadership months ago. The project was announced and this person who contributed "forgot" that we had a meeting where I gave them my ideas, and then a follow up document the day after. I knew nothing was going to be done about it. Someone else told me that the person said sorry that they forgot. That's it.

I was really losing my ability to do much of anything. I have depression and anxiety and ADHD, all of which I manage pretty well. But those parts of me were under the pressure of being ignored, disrespected, "forgotten", and not being able to say a word to the world.

Then, as social unrest continued global due to BLM, the D&D team comes out with their statement. It was like a slap in the face. How much they care about people of color, how much changing things (that I and others had been pushing for months, if not longer) was just going to happen now. It took weeks of protesting across the globe to get D&D to do what people they hired have been already telling them to fix. You cannot, CANNOT say Black lives matter when you cannot respect the Black people who you exploit at 1/3rd your pay, for progressive ideas you pick apart until it's comfortable, for your millions of profit year over year. People of color can make art and freelance, but are never hired. D&D takes what they want from marginalized people, give them scraps, and claim progress.

I spent my time in that building worrying about how much people hated me for working there. I spent a lot of time thinking about how much it hurt to work there. I had and still have supporters, and many. Thanks to you all for being my voice and speaking out when I could not. But I felt so isolated and alone. If not for some coworkers who checked in on me, who were going through the same things? I would've quit. Every angry statement about D&D felt personal because I couldn't fix it. Because I failed, whether it was my fault or not. I felt like I was being trashed by everyone because I could not disconnect what I set as a personal responsibility from the state of the game. That part IS my fault.

But I wound up as I am now because of all of this and much, much more. I am depressed. I am unable to write. I constantly question if anything I create is worth anything. I feel like I let everyone down, and no matter how much people tell me I didnt, that doesnt change. I feel guilty for not being what y'all needed me to be, what I wanted to be, and betrayed for how I was treated at that company. It's an exceptionally kind place on the D&D team. People are very nice to each other in a very genuine way that I truly enjoyed. However, that doesnt replace respect. That doesnt delete how I was treated. It doesnt change the fact that I honestly never want to play a trpg again and am definitely not working in that field anymore.

I know that I'm probably losing a ton of opportunities writing elsewhere because of what I've said here, as well as what I've sent in internally. It may mean that I will return to poverty, which makes me feel like a failure to my race, my family, and my partner who I want to provide the world. But under all these things, I have my integrity. I worked my ass off. I did my best for as long as I could. And I didnt let them treat me like that without telling the world what needs to be said.

Trust actions, not words. Not "look at how much we freelance so and so", because freelancing is exploitation of diversity with no support for the freelancer. Not "here we finally did what we KNOW we should've done a long time ago", because they only care about how optics turn to dollars. EVERYTHING involving D&D will continue to farm marginalized people for the looks and never put them in leadership. They wont be put on staff. They will be held at arms length. I hope they prove me wrong.

A lot of BIPOC and other marginalized people are trying to make their way by using D&D. Dont shame them for that. Think about how much, and when you wield your anger, that it is done righteously.

That said, I dont recommend to anyone, working for the D&D department of Wizards of the Coast."

https://www.twitlonger.com/show/n_1sra9pq

#I'm done with them #i've been playing since Volo's was new #and i've been frustrated with their financial screwing over of players #and their continued cultural appropriation and stereotyping #I'm never touching their products again #wizards of the coast #wotc #dungeons & dragons #d&d #time to find some new systems to play

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courtorderedcake · 5 years ago

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Hallow : ch XIII - CSSNS 2019

“The Goblin King was prepared to host the Darkness, stealing Fae women away to their corrupted lands underneath the ground as concubines. The Darkness chose another in his stead, but not before this selected vessel enacted a devastating attack in its vengeance, revealing its hatred & rage. The battle was a lesson the old kings had forgotten; never underestimate an opponent.

Many more lives were lost as they razed over any who dared defy The Goblin King’s will. Only the pure love of our rulers united in matrimony, breaking the Vorpal Dagger, sealed the darkness and the Goblin menace away. The light flourished under their fair rule, and the queen bore a child as pure as moon beams, swan feathers, and starlight. They lived happily ever after, and shall be written in history as Heroes for All Time.”

This is the history Princess Emma memorizes from the day she is born, paraded about and presented only with the highest protection. The palace is a cage she wishes to escape, desperately. Not careful what wishes she made, Emma discovers history is written by the victors - The Dark One has an entirely different version of the events that took place.

Read on AO3 here.

Rated E for explicit themes, Mature situations, and Fae fuckery.

Written for @cssns

Ch 8 / ?? - In which a true apology is given

*** ARCHIVE WARNINGS VERY MUCH APPLY FOR THIS CHAPTER. PLEASE READ WITH DISCRETION.

The Darkness was roiling mad, a furious mass of thorns that exploded in his rib cage and up through his spine. It ripped threw his head, his shoulders tightening as it dug in like a macabre torture device of old. He kept trying to explain, trying to make it understand his reasoning, but it only howled like a wolf outside the sheep pen -

YOU HAVE NO REASONING FOR WHAT YOU HAVE DONE, YOU STUPID MAN!

She had to be well in order to fight long enough to survive for Nil; to not just hang herself while the Dagger melted silver down her clavicle.

DO YOU NOT REMEMBER OUR JOINING, OUR PACT? HOW TO ACT WITH FINESSE, TO BREAK SOMEONE WITHOUT EXERTING PRESSURE, OR HOW TO PUSH THEM OVER THE EDGE?

Calling for Alice and asking her to go to Emma's aid was a good thing strategically, and her actually appearing like some sort of fogged looking glass apparition he summoned was a blessing

YOU COULD HAVE FOLLOWED MY SIMPLE PLAN FOR YOU TO PUSH HER WHILE SHE WAS BREAKING!

The voice changed in timbre and tone as it sometimes did, easily digging its points home. Killian could practically see his father, drunk and dismissive, shouting at Liam and beating them both bloody under one of the massive pines. The memory of watching Liam with a broken jaw as he went into his first year in the junior naval recruits was the one it dug its claws into, the Darkness fueling old anger and shame.

YOU SAW HER HIDE FROM YOU, YOU COULD HAVE EASILY WORKED YOUR WAY UNDER HER SKIN AND GOTTEN HER FOLLOWING YOU TO NIL. YOU COULD HAVE EVEN PRESSED FOR THE SHARD, IF SHE WAS TRULY AT HER WIT'S END - INSTEAD YOU TRIP OVER YOUR TONGUE LIKE A BOY! AN IMBECILE!

It pressed him, but he was not weak. He could crush his father ten times over now if the bastard wasn't dead, and no one could get under his skin again. Certainly not some crying woman, especially the daughter of an enemy, and such a valuable card to hold in play if he wanted to be free. Maybe he had told Alice too much about his worries over Emma, while Robyn watched with bewildered dismay. Maybe he blurted how she was acting, and they thought that he was showing weakness or worry. Imagined of course, there was nothing -

SHE BEWITCHES YOU INTO SYMPATHETIC STUPOR, SHE FILLS YOU WITH IDEAS OF REDEMPTION YOU DO NOT DESERVE, YOU ARE SO CLOSE TO YOUR REVENGE, OUR REVENGE, AND YOU FAIL ME. I MUST PUNISH YOU, I MUST HURT YOU.

He braced himself; the pain of broken bones as he folded into himself was enough to make him wish for true death.

I WISH YOU WERE DEAD, FREEING MYSELF FROM YOUR INEPTITUDE WOULD BE A BLESSING WELL MET WITH YOUR DEATH.

They both knew it was fruitless, the idea impossible while the dagger was still broken. He would survive the pain, and the Darkness would greet him in its vengeance without fail. With eyes closed tightly, he braced himself for what was to come.

Instead of pain, though, it cackled, and Killian felt more fear than before.

Oh yes, feel that fear, Dearie. No more physical pain for today. You mentioned strategy - I have a strategic plan for you, regarding a fitting punishment; the sort worthy of this sort of betrayal. You've been misbehaving without consequences too long now, your leash forgotten. Do you remember when you failed to stop Snow Margueryte and her Charming? Do you remember how I tormented you for your failure?

Killian shook his head in horror. Not that.

Oh yes, that. It's time for your nightmare. I'll provide you mercy and heal you first… Be patient, for when I'm done we'll begin my favorite game with you. We haven't played in such a long time…

His bones began to knit back together, cracking into place noisily and sloppily. Emma's voice suddenly echoed into his chamber, breaking through the Darkness' cackling.

"Dark One!" She was blazing with rage and light magic, Killian barely able to stand upright at her advance. The Darkness felt licks of her fury strike, its yowls of pain as it hid itself away a bitter requiem of relief.

Killian gritted his teeth as he adjusted his frame to lean against the wall, his body still healing slowly even as the Darkness exited. "Princess?" he rasped.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" she shrieked; he thought she might move to strike him, to hear the venom with which she spat the question out. "You went through Ariel? Through Alice and Robyn? Through Eric and Marta? Did you think that I would not find out immediately or that they would not tell me of your attempt at deceit? What information did you hope you could squeeze from them while I was dealing with the consequences of my failures? You already know all of them, what could you possibly use against me now?"

He winced, and not all from pain. A vague guilt that had a name - remorse perhaps?

“That wasn't the reason, I didn't - I wanted to -"

"I don't want anything to do with you. How many times do I have to -" Emma's magic hit him again, his corroded mind practically melting as her magic burnt the Darkness where it attempted to remain stuck to his bones. His knees wobbled.

"Emma, I just need you to know -"

Emma interrupted as he tried to take a breath, sweat beading on his forehead. "No. No, you don't need me to, you want me to. Big difference, buddy, and I have a choice in whether or not I listen. I don't want to listen."

His voice sounded small to his own ears. "I just want to know that you're okay."

Emma laughed, her eyes wild and teeth bared. "You know that I'm okay, that I am just dealing with a war, deaths, betrayals, figuring out who to trust and who isn't a monster. You've known I was alright since I left you, since I didn't come back - it's you who isn't alright. You’re scared. I don't blame you for it either; I can't imagine how it must feel to be unable to make your own choices, but I am not and cannot be your crutch. Find someone else."

Nodding, he scrubbed his face, and then carded his hand through his hair. "I thought - Never mind. Please just - You'll have to take care of yourself to survive. Keep yourself safe, and the shard; talk to Ursula and Ariel, alright? I was - I thought they might be concerned for you, and I am sorry for bothering them. And you. That's all. Nothing else."

Marta poked her head in, clearing her throat. "Uh, Killian. Ursula has a ship ready for you, and she's requested that you leave immediately. I've offered to go with you part of the way to make sure you don't do anything else untoward."

Emma snorted, spitefully. "Thanks Marta. Sorry you got the short straw."

Marta sighed. "Princess, do you need me to -"

"I'm fine," Emma snapped. "Just about done here." Marta gave a nod, taking her leave.

"I'm going to leave then," Killian said.

"Good. If we never meet again it will be too soon."

"If it means anything, I'm glad you are safe. I'm glad the shard is safe. I am glad you are with people who can help you, and who are… good at protecting you. I don't - you don't have to worry if they are trustworthy, and they won't fail you. Goodbye, Princess."

"Farewell, Dark One."

He walked in a daze to the place where his ship waited, uncaring and unaware of the Selkies booing him, the food and trash thrown at him, of Ursula, Eric, Ariel, Alice, and Robyn watching his trek out of the caves with Emma. He stared, Eric and Ariel openly glaring, Robyn giving him the same squinted look of confusion that she had previously, and Alice too busy talking to Emma.

To distract her from him. A dull heaviness pushed down on his shoulders, weight settling in his stomach.

Marta was already waiting for him on the ship, a look of pity for him on her face. "Ready?" she inquired softly. He nodded, and they drew anchor. The ship moved through the calm water, everything quiet as they departed, including the voices that made up the Darkness.

The portal out was a one way exit, the ship's wheel in his hands a steadying comfort. They caught the breeze, leaving the tranquility of the underwater oasis and sailing off the proverbial edge of Ursula's world to land in stormy waters.

He had to blink a few times as a bright green bolt of blinding lightning cracked in the heavens. The storm was massive, and he followed its course along the horizon, seeing an armada skirting a hurricane before it hit something unseen, the clouds breaking apart. Killian ran to the stern, Marta joining him with a hand over her mouth.

Ursula's caves flickered into view, appearing like a great bubble from the sea floor by some otherworldly force. As the caves crested the surface, the protective forces that had been shielding the caves broke with a resounding force, the huge crash as they struck the surface to sink again sending a shockwave through the water. Their ship pitched back and forth as they held steady to her moorings; the water had become a roiling mess of waves from the magic radiating off of the fleet in the distance. Green lightning struck the water all around it, and even from their distance Killian could see floating carcasses and the mass of birds seeking carrion, the water a sickly olive color. The storm began again, and Killian brought the spyglass in his pocket to his eye to examine the strangest fleet of mismatched ships Killian had ever seen, and tethered at its front was the cause of this destruction - King of the Merfolk, the previous King of the Sea: Ursula's brother, Triton.

Shuddering in disbelief of the King's fate, even if deserved, Killian tried to map and count the plan of attack from their positions. Frigates, sloops, and even a few galleons were interspersed with metal rusting boats in styles Killian had never seen. The largest was something Elsa had called a barge, and it led the ships as the storm beat around them, the towering man with a large, dirty, grey beard at the lead. Focusing with a twist, he surveyed Triton further. The partial God was bruised and emaciated, held by a golden collar around his neck that linked to the barge with its towering blocks of rectangular metal boxes. Following the chain from the man’s collar to a raised dais that lay on a deck, Neal lounged nearby in a windowed observation level, looking bemused. Triton was under the control of the prince, his powers controlled by Nil's desire to possess Emma.

But they would never, never get through to Ursula -

Triton waved a large trident around, and the storm sparked with green and purple electricity. Ursula's secret realm lurched into view again as he spun the weapon with skill, before it sunk below in another huge crash. Their ship creaked ominously as the waves sent them flying. Triton bellowed loudly, making Marta whimper next to Killian.

"We have to go back," Marta whispered, watching Killian close the spyglass.

"Go back? For what, the pleasure of being ripped apart by Goblins and a demi-god? She doesn't want me there, what good -"

Marta slapped him hard, changing from a highborn prim matron to the visage of a livid sorceress.

"Stop thinking about yourself for one damned minute, you narcissistic clam! Even if that is the Darkness in you, recognize that this is bigger than you or your princess - my friend and my people are about to be slaughtered. I know what you did. I know how you exploded over that fleet like some sort of comet, and how you screamed the entire time begging for forgiveness. I was there in the water, before and after. I watched you kill those men, I saw them die; it took days to get the blood out of my pelt. Are you really going to let that happen again? Even if they aren't your people?"

Remembering the Darkness and its threat of reliving his worst nightmares, Killian paused. A spark lit his chest into a blaze.

"If you wanted to die so badly, you could not have chosen a more reckless bastard willing to assist." He turned the ship, heading straight towards Triton and the Goblin fleet.

What are you doing?!

Killian felt the Darkness wake again, still weakened. Reading his thoughts, it quieted at the promise of a battle, the idea of any sort of confrontation too delicious to push back against. It acquiesced to his intended course, lending strength that made Killian grin ferally.

They had just passed where the portal had spit them out when he heard the noise of another ship close by, only slightly behind. It caught up with them in an instant, and he had to blink; the silhouette was so familiar, the way it glided through the water as if it flew, almost like the Jewel but not quite -

The thought was obliterated as Emma came into view on the deck, her hair whipping around her scowling face.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

"Get her out of here. This place is about to be a war zone if they manage to pit Ursula against Triton," Marta yelled at Emma's vessel, pointing to where Triton moved the water in huge eddies, the sea opening up and closing.

Ariel yelled back, obviously frustrated and pointing at Emma. "We told her that, she -"

"This is what Emma wants to do! We need to help Ursula, and we need to help your father, so why are you so oblivious you twit?" Alice marched toward Ariel, pointing, no longer soft spoken.

"Of course I want to save my father, but how the hell is she going to help when she isn't even in her right mind!" Ariel spat, before regret played across her features. "Emma, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that in the way -"

Alice and Robin cut off Ariel, though their words were lost to a forceful gust of wind. Alice looked livid, gesturing at Ariel to the point that Eric had stepped in and tried to separate them. Emma looked frozen in place, opening her mouth to say something, but thought better of it and retreated. Killian caught her eye, but she just looked through him, and instead jumped when thunder boomed over their heads.

Wind ripped at their own sails, Marta running to the front of the ship as Killian raced toward the back, glancing over to see Emma's sleeker vessel roll in the waves. The storm itself seemed concentrated around them suddenly, growing in ferocity. Massive waves, fueled by Triton’s powers, drew up shipwrecks that crashed into their vessels, jostling the princess and sending Eric to the wheel to frantically steer. Ariel was red with rage, screaming at Alice and Eric, while Emma tried to get their attention.

Killian yelled at them to stop, but they only pointed their shouts at him, rain now pouring down on them like the sky had opened.

Emma let out a scream of frustration, and Killian could see it before it happened, moving with a rope in his hand as he threw back the last of the vial in his pocket, jumping into the water only moments after Emma lost her balance and flew over the side.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

"Stop fighting, it's making the storm - " Emma shouted, but it was drowned out over the roar of waves, the downpour, and the brawl. A wave tore at her, and she was thrown roughly to the deck, her hand catching a rope for support. The wind whipped the rigging skyward, her cuff falling away as she flew off the planks and into the ocean.

The water hit her full on, taking her breath away. She scrambled for the cuff, realizing too late it was lost in the sea. The dark water was freezing, crushing her in the indeterminate up and down. In a panicked moment she tried to summon the cuff, and when her magic simply sputtered, she tried to conjure air. No bubbles formed around her, her magic strained or weakened by Nil's influence on the sea. Fighting against the current left the air in her lungs burning, but she could not give in. A life of no more sky was how all of her nightmares seemed to end: here in the silence of drowning, in a life with Nil, or surrounded by darkness that was too alive. What would her mother say? Her father? With their fiercest faces on, speaking of honor and hard won peace -

"We never give up in this family, Emma. We always find another. Good always wins."

Now she wanted desperately to ask at what cost? At what cost did good win, when this was good? Good should not be having to struggle, banished from a realm for no more reason than hatred, locked away forever or until you could be of use, punishments that were cruel and unusual - that wasn't good winning.

That cost didn't need to be paid when there were so many other paths available. If only they had sought wisdom, if they had reached out and tried to see what might be good for all… Emma wished that she could have helped them do better, that maybe if she wasn't drowning, if they weren't imprisoned, if the weight of what they built hadn't come crashing down, they all could have changed things.

Her eyes blurred and bright spots burst in her vision. Blackness closed in, her magic dampened, embracing the beginning of the end, until a hand grabbed her own. It pulled hard, tearing through the water. A blue light came from somewhere in the dark, but when she reached for it Emma felt her legs touch a tail, hand tingling from shock. There was no way it was him; Ariel was right that she had lost her mind, this was just some strange vision before she would wake in her bed. Arms wrapped tightly around her, pulling her upwards, trying to beat the water that leaked into her mouth and nose, and there were his eyes, like he actually -

Landing on hard wood with a thud, she could dimly hear voices of concern, but mostly she could see a soaking wet Killian looking down at her in fear. Emma coughed, choking on water as he watched her, breathing in harshly himself and falling back to his elbows. Too weak to move away from him and much weaker still to try to ask why, she stared at him in angry confusion.

"You really need to stop drowning around me," he said in explanation, wiping wet hair away from his face, as if it meant nothing. "It's a terrible way to go, and I have made it abundantly clear that I will not let you."

Emma couldn't help the laughter that bubbled out of her at the absolute absurdity of everything, the hurt in her chest from the lack of oxygen, and how much hatred she wanted to feel even though she could not summon it.

"I'll try and keep that in mind. Thank you," Emma whispered with as much annoyance as she could muster. Killian cracked a cheeky grin, and Emma felt the urge to punch him rise.

"Emma, I'm so sorry. We realized that you were gone after he was jumping off the other side after you - " Alice rapidly began, before crushing Emma in a hug. The rest of her friends gathered, the storm calming around them on both ships.

There was a loud splintering crack as more of Ursula's realm was pulled from hiding. Goblins threw ropes at the caves, climbing like spiders into the network of tunnels as Selkies launched their own bare defenses until they were dragged out in nets.

A massive tentacle broke from the water, smacking hard against Triton as Ursula pushed free into the onslaught. Ariel gasped, and Marta began frantically pacing the deck.

"What do we do?" Marta asked. Everyone turned towards Killian, who looked at his feet.

"Don't look at me," he snapped, pointing to Emma. "The princess here does a far better job at improvisation methods. Ask her, she's your leader."

Emma blinked, staring at Killian with a suspicious glare. She thought for a moment, pushing past everything that had happened, her fears evaporating as she moved into planning.

"We help Ursula, and we help the Selkies. Eric will pilot to Ursula, while some of us take the other ship and destroy what we can of Nil’s armada." She spoke calmly, delegating tasks quickly and methodically cycling through what they would need. "Ursula needs more time to try and get her denizens all out, so we need to make any sort of distraction we can. We can draw them away or at least split their forces if he knows I'm here."

"That is a terrible - " Ariel began, but Emma stopped her with a harsh tone.

"If you have nothing better to offer, Ariel, I don't want to hear it."

Ariel managed to look shocked, before swallowing with a nod. "Let's free my father."

They split as a group, Emma giving Marta a solemn nod when they turned away to head towards Nil, Eric steering their ship straight into the formation. Killian forced his way between two ships in the rear, blending in easily, using their mix of styles to his advantage. It wasn't until the the first ship lay silent and burning that any attack looked like it was taking place. At least he could do this; maybe they could do this and for once take a victory.

Marta steered hard into a barely held together wooden sloop. Alice and Robyn wreaked chaos with strange smoke bombs detonated by arrows while Killian lit sails on fire, the Goblins seemingly not understanding why liberally leaving petrol around could be a problem. The armada's wooden ships burned hot in the water, making the storm even eerier, green lightning mixed with the bright reds of the flames creating barriers for any course direction. It was clear that the Goblins were not familiar with any Naval strategy, and Emma felt a small surge of hope. Eric had a steady hand as he watched Ariel create portals, shutting them around longer vessels when they were halfway through with screeching crunches.

The Goblin fleet took notice, but Nil made no move for Emma as their ship took fire. Eric and Ariel disappeared onto a steel boat with a claw like contraption while Emma tried to magic herself onto another ship’s deck without success. Her hands trembled, sparks finally lighting and sending her sprawling on a shiny silver floor surrounded by huge containers stacked on each other. A Goblin stared at her in confusion before she lunged, plunging her sword into its chest out of instinct. The Goblin fell with a thud, and Emma began to run. These ships were long and easy to cross. Her mind was made up to get to Nil before he could get to the Selkies.

Killian appeared in the middle of the last surviving holdout of metal barges, pursued as he jumped across a row of metal containers above Emma while she herded a group into the space below. The Goblins above carelessly knocked containers down in a tumble, burying her pursuers. Emma met his eyes briefly, giving him a nod.

They continued through the maze of metal on opposite sides of each other, flowing into an easy strategy together that made her angrier still at Nil - angry that she could possibly consider working again with the Dark One. It was too simple to fall back into their unfriendly truce. The thought had barely crossed her mind when the wood under her feet splintered and bowed, her feet slipping as the barge tipped forward, barreling towards the sea floor. The impact of the hull against the rocky ground sent her flying, the noise alone reverberating through her teeth like she was shattering as the rocks came towards her at frightening speed.

The same black blur as before pushed her into swirling water. The force of the whirlpool crushed them both, but her hand crushed his even harder while he pulled upward. Water resettled again as they gasped for air together at the surface, Killian’s hair sticking flat against his face. The water was full of debris and flame, smoke making it impossible to see much of anything. Ships ground together all around them as he helped her cling to a chunk of wood. It was in both of their best interests for her to be alive and uninjured, but here he was playing some sort of savior that went far beyond the bounds of their truce. He was behind her, at her side, or in sync with her step, both of them working together with an ease as if they were partners, and yet that’s not what they were. It made her angry, furious even, even in the midst of battle.

"Killian, what - " But before she could finish, she was forced to push him frantically out of the way as a huge chunk of a rock formation fell, the resulting force smacking them together. "Look out, go!"

More rocks fell around them and cut through the smoke, Ursula's lair appearing again to all as its protective shields flickered to a shuddering halt, the walls looming over them as it hurtled downwards again towards the sea floor. One of the main chambers swallowed them as the lair descended, pushing water aside as it split around them, crystals raining down in sparkling pieces. Caught in the push back of the water, they were pulled with the mass of rock as it fell away and began settling into the bottom of the sea. The force of the ensuing wave, however, pushed them back up and over the surface, Emma's back smacking against what was once the cave floor. The two pieces were still crumbling, but now sat horizontally in the water to create an invisible shoreline made of stone. Emma had little time to acknowledge where she landed, the wind escaping her lungs when she tried to shriek and shield her body from another round of the boulders. Killian pulled her into a roll, ending up above her breathing heavily.

"G'off - " Emma let out a panted breath from under him, weakly protesting at his weight. "Catch your breath, and g'off!"

Killian rolled off of her onto his back, letting out puffs of air as he did.

"Sorry," he rasped, and finally pushed his hair out of his face with a wet slap. Emma let out a laugh, regretting it instantly as she coughed.

"S'alright." Propping herself upright on her elbows, she quickly glanced around the cave fragment where they had washed up, now its own small island in the turmoiled sea. Standing and peering around the cracked rock, her breath caught again.

Ursula's realm was broken into pieces around the remaining ships, cracked and jagged mountains of what was once the cave jutting out of the water. The piece they were sequestered on was at the outer edge, so obscured by smoke that they could not see Ursula at all until Triton's first blow landed and swept the billowing clouds away.

The brother and sister stood in the water in front of Nil's barge, both of them colossal and struggling against each other’s strength as Ursula's tentacles wrapped around the trident. Nets were thrown towards what was left of the caves, dragging selkies into a cargo hold, the water carrying sounds of distress to her ears. Emma slipped through the crack, running towards the water, but there he was in her peripheral, because of course he was. Of course he would stalk her even in the middle of a battle -

"Don't you dare tell me not to do this, not to do something - " Emma hissed, putting more distance between them. He stood slightly in front of her, but made no move to stop her.

"I wasn't going to," Killian replied with a sideways glance, following slightly behind when she pushed past. "Do you have a plan?" he asked when they got closer, nets hauling in screaming women and seals.

"Get the Selkies out and turn Nil's focus fully on me so that Ursula can free Triton. Nil doesn't care about his people or how many die; he will only notice if a new plaything is put in front of him. I don't know how much time Ursula needs, but that's my last resort plan."

"I have a plan, and it should buy you time if you - "

"Trust you again?" She whirled on her heel back towards him. "That's below even my last resort plan. I will never - "

"I've betrayed you, and I understand that you owe me nothing, Em - Princess, but I swear to you now that I give you my fealty. I swear on Milah, Liam, and Elsa that I will be your ally, and help you in this war. Take a leap of faith here, please, I promise you that - " She turned away. Killian tried to follow, but she held up a hand.

"Shut the hell up, Killian. Just stop. Please." Her voice wavered slightly, and he halted behind her. Seeing him look actually admonished, actually concerned as he pushed wet hair away from his face, Emma lowered herself into the water.

"Fair enough." He whispered.

"By the way," her shoulders tightened, though she didn’t bother to glance at him, "if you're really sorry, truly apologetic even in some part of you that can still muster that emotion, a true apology would be changed behavior. Which is why if I am faced with you and Nil as my options, I will take this dagger shard to the bottom of the sea. I’d rather die than pick either of you."

"I am - "

"I don't care, Killian. Thank you for your help here, and thank you for saving my life. It does not change anything."

Emma propelled herself forward into one of the nets, leaving him behind again. It dragged her and several frightened Selkies up over a deck, depositing them into some sort of holding cage. Emma moved quickly, cutting through the ropes with a knife that Ursula had given her. Handing it off to a nymph, Emma lifted herself from the floor with discarded netting, looking around to see what all was taking place.

Emma spotted Ariel in a corner, waving for her attention and pointing to a wall with a circling finger. She could make a portal; good - a quiet and easy way to get the Selkies to safety. Emma motioned to the groups of Selkies netted on deck, prioritizing those who were held down by Goblins or in view of the archers taking aim near the King's raised area. The first two attempts were straightforward, no Goblins milling around to stop them. The third was more harrowing, almost cut short by a Goblin's shrieking. Killian snapped its neck from behind as Emma braced herself for discovery, her eyes widening further when he ducked down and helped her cut through a heavy cord that bound the Selkies. They split apart again, the last groups too close to the front and at risk of being directly under a rain of archers. There was a shadowy section of boxes that she could dip behind for cover, but without the archers’ eyes distracted, it would be impossible to get to. Killian signaled from a corner, ducking behind a tarp when a patrol went by.

Emma stayed still in the hold, pleading with her eyes, trying to tell him that she needed only a little time. He gave her a slight downcast smile, almost a grimace but not quite, and sprung from hiding. Slashing and hacking at a set of Goblins to provide a distraction as she ran to cut the last nets, he made his way toward the front of the huge metal ship until Nil bellowed. Nil pointed one of his gnarled fingers at Killian, eyes widening in recognition as his face turned from anger, to a smile. He laughed, opening his hands and spreading his arms as if presented with an old friend.

Watching with a sick feeling churning in her gut, she saw Killian bow lowly. To her great horror, his wide, crooked, grin was once again back.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The bow he gave was met by several Goblins overtaking him, beating him as they placed shackles on his arms and legs. They weighed heavily, burning against his skin. Iron. Of course it was iron; it was earth, after all. Goblins were right behind Dwarves with their affinity for earth magic, able to bend iron with ease.

Nil walked towards him wearing a fur cape draped over his shoulders that sparkled in the dim light. Killian could see that it was a poorly crafted blend of Merscale, Selkie pelts, and varying Ansapi skins. Even despite Nil’s garish and disgusting costuming, Killian saw the faintest glimpse of Milah in the man's unsure eyes. Then, the Goblin smiled broadly, and any trace of her was wiped away.

"You made it!" Nil bellowed, seemingly overjoyed as his guard looked on in confusion, ignoring the lifeless bodies that lay around the ship and its strange cargo pillars, marking Killian’s path.

Killian struggled slightly, testing his bonds as they seared the flesh. "Certainly did," he hissed.

"Where is my Queen? My radiant bride-to-be and future submitting wife?" Nil practically sang. Killian could see his mouth was wet, the too long tongue in his mouth slick with salivation.

Killian suppressed the disgust that threatened to spill over at the prince’s language.

The Darkness caressed his bones, tickling gently under his skin.

Tell him. Do it. End this.

Killian set his jaw, thinking of Emma's hand on the barrier she had created in the woods, the way her brows had pinched and lips had turned down. She had trusted him briefly, even going so far to say that he had good inside of him when she first forgave him, and to say she wished him peace when she left.

There had been a moment when she hesitated before going into the portal, thought about looking back at him, and he had hated her for almost forgiving him again. He had hated her for so much more than her slender shoulders had ever had to bear, blamed her for so much; he’d even told her in no uncertain terms that she should suffer as Milah had. And still, she was here, looking at him with those eyes that he couldn't escape.

No no no, you listen to me, only to me. I am your master, you are my hound to beat when it fails to bring me my kills! No, NOW LISTEN, LISTEN. END THIS.

He couldn't stop thinking of the anger and relief when she spoke his name again upon seeing him before Ursula, the way she had dismissed him instead of making him grovel like she should have, demanding her pound of flesh for what he had put her through. The way she was glancing at him now with apprehension and fear.

She is a weakling, full of uncontrolled emotions and too much trust that has led to her ruin. Go on, stop stalling! Hurry, hurry now, we can get the shard and -

And giving her to Nil would end with nothing more than misery for not only her, but anyone who stood in the Goblins’ way - Royals and Fae like Marta, or the numerous scattered Fae that refused a crown once before -

“Well?” Nil asked, laughing raucously.

Well? Give him the princess, you blithering simpleton -

Killian cleared his throat, preparing himself. "She's dead."

What!?

"I must have misheard you, Dark One," Nil chuckled dangerously. "Say again?"

Yes, say AGAIN? WHAT ARE YOU DOING? END THIS.

The Darkness tried to force its words onto his tongue, but he would not let her forgiveness by dismissal be in vain.

ENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHIS END THIS, GIVE HER UP

"She's dead; she ran from me weeks ago. I found her body in a ravine, the shard dissolved to ash. I will never be freed." He spoke as bitterly as he could, channeling the hatred easily.

"What?" the Goblin Prince screamed, enraged. "She is strong willed and has a bite to match that delectable bark, so she cannot be dead. She is like my own stolen mother, and destined for her blood to strengthen the throne. No, she cannot be dead."

You won't buy her time with this, you fool! This is inevitable, she is his and will be his like your whore was his father's. You must get the shard -

"I assure you, she is. Even in death, she made it difficult. The ravine was deep and absolutely bloody terrible to climb into. I can't imagine falling down it was anything even she could have survived."

You will suffer for this.

"Good," Killian whispered, mostly to himself. Emma looked at him from the remains of the net, where the Selkies were now freed from their confines. She motioned for him to stop, but he shook his head, wet strands of the shaggy mess sticking to his forehead. The Goblin Prince paced, before taking deep breaths and turning again to face Killian.

"Then why have you come here, slaughtered my fleet, and created chaos? I've heard about your glory under my father. Did you really come here empty handed to tell me you're untethered?" Nil attempted to sound amused, but the desperate edge was heavy in his tone. There was no control there, just an angry brat brashly striking out at everyone.

Killian put on a pedantic smile, causing Nil to immediately start shifting in his place like a child. "Why wouldn't I? I only create chaos, and with no master that means I can strike against you too. Your damnable father may not be here, but I can still hurt you," he drawled, a bit of The Darkness in his voice for finesse.

What are you doing, what ARE YOU DOING?

"Then you're useless to me. It's lucky I don't believe you." Nil smiled with a menacing edge. "We'll just leave you here for safekeeping until I can verify this unfortunate and convenient tragedy. My betrothed is a beautiful specimen and so strong, it's hard to believe she isn't ferreted away somewhere. Her tenacity knows no bounds, yet again like my beloved Mother. I love that fighting spirit, she will make a strong future king, as it is written." Walking to a large flat piece of iron and picking it up from the floor, the sheet rolled like paper in his glowing hands until it crafted into a large curved spike.

There was a sharp pain in his chest as the U bend of the makeshift iron anchor broke through the skin of his back, cracking ribs. Killian groaned, falling back, but Nil was there, standing on top of the iron contraption and pushing it deeper. Pushing the other side of heavy iron through his ribcage, Killian felt the air escape his lungs in a choking rasp, forcing him to double over, while Nil gave him a hard push into the sea.

You've killed us both you fool. I hope you're happy.

"We don't die. I'm content to lie at the bottom of the sea if that means another does not have the same fate as Milah. I meant what I said."

You will know true agony for this. Your insolence has been a problem, but this? This you will suffer for; this you will know true pain for.

"Aye, I'm sure of it. For now, enjoy the water for the both of us."

The dark pressure seemed endless, and the pain was constant, but it cleared his thoughts. Killian of the Blackwater, left to sit in the blackest depths forevermore. The Darkness writhed and cajoled and raged, but nothing it did could disturb his peace, the idea of penance weighing heavier than the cold, deep nothingness.

He wondered if this was what Liam felt. The thought didn't hurt him this time.

The anchor dragged along the sand at the bottom, drawing another sound that escaped in bubbles. More pain burned through him as his lungs filled with water. Stars lit behind his eyes, bright pops of color flashing in time with the stabs of pain. Hours passed like this, his thoughts just as full with briny water as he tried not to think about how long this torture would continue. A firework lit in his mind as the anchor hit a rock, sending reverberating shocks through his body. He wished vainly for the darkness to take him instead of the bursts of brightness.

But no, the light would not go away. It became a pinpoint, then a glow that was warmer and more comforting than anything he thought he would know, growing to spread through him. He cracked open his eyes to see what he thought was a fierce angel, or quite possibly a nymph or siren, who swam before him encased in bright sunshine shimmers of light with a halo around her head and wearing Emma’s face.

There was no mockery, for which he thanked the heavens; she simply lifted him, felt the iron, and dropped him suddenly. Tentacles wrapped around the thickest bend of the molded metal, wood crashing around them as the strange suction cup dotted arms yanked. Then, the weight in his chest loosened and he was flying, finally free. It was too much; he flew too high and too fast, falling just as quickly, his eyes shut tightly.

He fell on something hard, forcing him to cough up water as he raised himself on his side. Soft hands pushed hair out of his face, and something warm crashed into him against where the iron had been. He groaned as whatever it was that had settled against him. A person? When he let out a breath, the person - yes, it was definitely a person - began hitting him.

They stopped suddenly, and after no other smacks came for several moments he opened his eyes to see Emma staring back at him with worry, concern, and anger filling her own gaze.

"You fucking idiot!" she screamed. "You -"

"You know that I can't die, right? I'm a survivor.”

"You still… Even if… If you had been hurt, hurt worse than this I mean, I… Why did you do that? I had a plan, and you - you bought us so much more time, I should have let you - I should have trusted - We couldn't have done this without you, I just…" Emma swiped at her eyes. "Why would you, you absolute…"

Trying to sit up and practically toppling them both, he groused wryly at her noise of concern. "Maybe I just needed reminding that I could be on the hero's side, or maybe I knew you would never let me get off that easy and without yelling at me, you stubborn - "

Emma hit him lightly again, her voice laced with strained amusement and lessening terror. "Don't move. Just stop, don't move, you arrogant ass."

"Princess, you deprive me of a dashing rescue, and then add insult to injury - "

"Emma. Please, I…" She straightened her shoulders and began to laugh, his grin at her not helping. Her voice cracked when she tried to start talking, and though she cleared her throat, she could not hide the tremble. "I think, Emma is just fine. Or I quite liked when you called me Swan."

"Hey, hey now," he soothed, and when he laid a hand on her cheek she turned her face into his palm, holding her own hand against his. Emma couldn't hold back a shaky breath as a few tears escaped, and he pulled her tightly to him. "Hey. Don't cry. I'm the one who was gravely injured. It was about time you saved me from almost drowning, even though I technically cannot. We'll count it as one to three, with me in the lead. You can't steal that too, Swan."

Her hiccupping laugh and weak wristed smack made him snort. The wound in his back closed, the Darkness ever keeping him alive, even as it still stopped short of his hand. Finally, Killian allowed himself to look around. They were on an old style ship, a light fleet frigate possibly, with no one else in sight. It felt vaguely familiar, but so did simply being at sea. Emma shuddered against him, cold and most likely exhausted as he pressed her for details.

"What happened to Nil's armada?"

"Your claim that I was dead caused the Goblin Prince to throw a full-on tantrum, leaving his own ship by portal. The mages he left in charge couldn't control Triton when whittled down in numbers. By the time Nil came back with his father, Triton was free, Ursula was laying waste to anything with Goblins on board, and the Selkies were free and trying to heal their wounded while regrouping. Ursula threw us on this ship after we looked for you, and the two of them destroyed Nil’s entire armada. Nil escaped through a portal at the last second, though. I watched through your telescope." Emma blushed lightly, pulling away from him. "Ursula said this ship will mean something to you, but I don't recognize it other than it being the one we used today. It's sort of a hodge-podge of Mer-craftsmanship; a frigate, speed sloop, galleon, and tall ship all crammed together. The base and bunks seem to be mostly the galleon? It's that ship Eric pulled out of the water before -"

"Liam's ship," he breathed. "My ship."

"I thought yours was The Jewel of the Realm? This one says something about being Jolly." She pointed over the edge, and he joined her to peer over. In sloppy carved graffiti, some sea dwelling mer-miscreant had replaced the clean script of the Fae Navy with 'The Jolly Roger'.

Killian couldn't find it in himself to be angry, instead laughing as he crossed to the stern, feeling the same breeze that his brother and he had felt, the sea immediately calming him. Emma had only made this all the better, expending any magic she hadn't used drying their supplies and the ship's hold. Once waterlogged books filled with his brother's notes were crisp and clean, and a patina worn sextant looked almost like new on a pristine desk. Opening a trunk, he found naval uniforms pressed for a day's work, closing the lid after running his fingers over the brass buttons and fringed epaulets on the shoulders.

Then there were the other ships, the pieces of other wrecks merged to what was his, that made up the crooked interior, filled with casks and casks of glorious rum.

He created a small fire in the tiny galley, heating it with the butter they had left, still in Ingrid's strange plastic pastel container, before joining Emma on the deck with two cups as she arranged blankets.

"How's your hand?" Emma asked, watching him settle.

He gave a shrug, trying to mask the fire coursing through his bent fingers. "S'fine."

He took a heavy swig, the rum doing nothing to help the pain in his hand. Emma rolled her eyes and crawled beside him, taking his cold palm in hers. "Which means 'it hurts' in High Killian. You're truly a terrible liar."

"The Goblin believed me when I told them you were dead."

"Barely, and I mean, case and point." Emma smirked, her magic glowing softly.

Killian barked out a laugh, and her magic spread, his hand stopping its searing throbs. He sighed in relief, and picked up a steaming mug.

"Any idea where we're off to?" he asked. Emma sighed wearily.

"I haven't had much more that a moment while you looked around yourself, but I believe we’re in this general vicinity." She spread out a large map that he had not noticed, unrolling it and pinning it down with a few stones she must have found in Liam's collection. Amethyst and a chunk of bismuth glittered at each corner. Emma pointed with the ends of a navigational compass to a location in the blue defined area she had made a circle around. "The stars aren't great right now, but I remember them well enough to find the cardinal points. There was a current map where I found this, and based on the stars and our speed, I think this is our trajectory if we're seeking the closest shore to land on." She tapped a small speck on the map with the compass, some unmarked island.

Killian raised an eyebrow, remarkably impressed. "You know marine navigation?"

Emma shrugged, with a teasing smile playing on her lips. "Even a proper noblewoman needs hobbies."

"I'm beginning to believe that you aren't the most proper of noblewomen, Swan."

"My reputation is ruined, you'll have to seek out other debutantes to fill your season."

He was caught off guard by her quip, and laughed in surprise, her giggling joining his. He brushed a finger over one of her lines on the map. "This is going to take some time, if you're right. Have you been at sea for any length of time?"

Emma shook her head, and sighed. "No. The sea wasn't a place for a princess." Her tone was sour, and she looked at him with the glint of irritation he'd begun to notice was present when she spoke about the ridiculous notions of the royals.

"Well, now it seems it is." He gave her a wink, and her cheeks flushed a deep red, the rum seemingly warming her further. "We'll be in close quarters, especially with what a mess of mismatched parts below deck is. Stay off my toes, and we'll be fine."

Looking at him with a cocked head and an amused expression, she gave a mock salute while imitating his accent. "Aye aye, Captain, sir."

He grimaced, and downed his rum. The Darkness had quieted again, probably due to her close proximity and how her magic seemed to target it lately.

Emma took another large swig of rum, her skin heating with a visible flush. Killian grinned at her, taking the mug down to pour more for them. When he handed it to her, she took another swig, seeming to savor the burn in her throat and warmth in her belly. Giggling, she let herself fall back onto the blankets they had laid across the deck.

"The last time I was this drunk was when I kissed you," she laughed, rolling onto her side clumsily to look at him. "After we escaped Pann."

"You were much more drunk then," he laughed back before realization dawned on him. "Wait, you remember that?"

"Yeah, and you lying about it." Her grin was playful, and she laid her head down to hide half her face in the blankets. Killian felt his ears heat, and tried not to choke on anymore of the rum. "Why did you, anyway?"

"I didn't - it was obvious you were out of sorts, just…"

"Knackered? Foxed? Three shades to the wind?" Emma giggled, and when he didn't return the laugh she reached for him. "I didn't mean to upset you, I definitely shouldn't have done that. I mean, I don't regret it, because it was nice and you have nice lips and a nice face, and - " She rambled, and his eyebrow raised. She let out a groan and covered her mouth.

"A drunken mind speaks a sober - " he chuckled awkwardly, Emma reaching to push him softly before he could finish the proverb. There was a part of him that felt strange, full of pride, while all at once wistful.

"Shut up," she whined, her blush making her eyes more green. "We will never speak of this again."

"Not a word from my nice lips about it again, I swear it." Miming zipping his lips, Emma groaned once more, falling back into the blankets again while laughing. Her laughter, being out at sea, the rum - it was heady when mixed with the thought of the way she had felt. There was no way he could admit anything more than that to himself, let alone Emma.

Later he checked her coordinates against the constellations, both of them looking at the stars and looking over the map by candlelight. Emma fell asleep as he began to work in silence and he coaxed her to take a pillow to lay her head on, the quiet snoring lasting for a few hours.

She tossed and turned under the blanket, briefly scaring him with the suddenness of her flailing.

"Emma? Are you alright?"

"Don't touch me, please don't touch - " she startled awake, throwing her body away from his own. With hazy eyes filled with tears, Emma scrunched into her frame just as he saw her do within Ursula's realm, magic leaving her in waves. "Nil, no, please don't - "

The first few bursts of magic caught him off guard, hitting him squarely in the chest. The third he tried to roll away from as it hit his hip, the movement fully pulling her from the night terror.

Her breathing was rapid and unsteady, as she murmured an apology, fingers twisting her hair.

She looked exhausted, and Killian wondered again when the last time she had gotten proper rest was. Approaching carefully, he wrapped her in the blanket she had thrown off, helping her to stand.

"Go sleep in the bunk. It will be more comfortable for you," Killian whispered, and Emma let him tuck a stray piece of her hair behind her ear, his skin meeting the softness of her cheek. He nodded to the hatch, helping her down the ladder until she closed the latch behind her. Sitting down on the deck to look over the maps again, he attempted to rub out the twinge in his chest that had begun to ache from where her magic had dealt its blows.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The dress for the evening of this ball is beautiful, and fits her like a glove as she twirls for her father. He's happier than she has seen him in a long time, eyes crinkled at the corners, watching her like she is the most important thing in the world as she shows him the intricate crystal work that glitters in the light.

Her mother hugs her from behind, a rare warm gesture rather than the iciness that Emma is used to in their relationship, decorum and etiquette frowning on displays of affection. The green velvet of her mother's gown smells like moss, pine, sweet grass, and fresh snow as her mother rests her head on Emma's shoulder.

Her father twirled her again, and they're at the ball. As unsure as she is what this party commemorates, the food and drink do not disappoint, nor does the selection of dance partners. A warm set of hands covers her eyes, and she can feel the press of a person against her back but it isn't unwelcome at all. Instead she feels the roughness of his palms, stubble against her neck, warm breath in her ear, and Killian’s voice.

"I have a surprise for you, darling," he whispers, and Emma feels her stomach flip like it had once with Graham. To her surprise, she feels trust and a sense of peace that he is with her here, and grins at his gift. The music goes silent in the ballroom, along with the guests, as if a great breath has snuffed everything out. "No peeking now…" Killian’s hands fall away and she screws her eyes tightly shut.

A finger traces her exposed spine, and she giggles, the nail sharp against her skin while feathers soften its trail. Although not completely unpleasant, it feels off the longer and further it goes, and she shivers as she leans away from the touch. The person behind her wraps their arms around her tightly, making it impossible to move while trailing their nails down her exposed skin. Emma struggles, and she feels a sickeningly familiar giggle rumble through the chest against her back.

This wasn't Killian any longer. She keeps her eyes shut, trying to wish away the sour smelling breath against the junction of her throat.

"Open your eyes, my beautiful wife, my queen to rival all queens. Open your eyes and behold my gift to you," Nil hisses, dragging his tongue along her shoulder blade.

Despite trying to clench her eyes shut with everything in her power, they are forced open to the light of the ballroom, twinkling lights that briefly blind then illuminate the bodies on the patterned floor. Crimson puddles lay around the courtiers as they themselves laid too still, livery soaking up the blood. Emma lets out a cry, running and slipping in the pools, her skirts and slippers filling with wet warmth, the taste of copper on her tongue.

Her parents slumped in their thrones, eyes and mouths open too wide, and Emma hears herself now as she chokes out moans, her voice too small but so loud in the silence that permeates in the absence of life. From behind her father's throne, Killian appears, his hands and face drenched in the same red that blooms from her parents necks while he wipes his sword on his waistcoat.

His face contorts in a sinister grin that only widens when he catches her horrified gaze, his eyes flickering to the floor. His eyes that are terribly, and awfully sad.

Emma turns back to Nil, his smile akin to Killian’s own, the dagger in his grip as Killian takes a place slightly behind him like a prostrate lap dog. Emma shakes her head, falling to her knees.

"Do you not like my gift, my radiant queen? I wanted something that left an impression as your last sight before the Darkness of your new life begins." Nil cocks his head, moving to her to lift her chin. Emma feels tears stream down her cheeks. "You will learn to love the Darkness, just as you will learn to love me, and love what I have done for you. Come, wife. Come."

The ballroom disappears around her as the world goes black, the floor falling away to leave her tumbling into the abyss. She lands on a soft surface, hands scrambling to feel around and escape. Her arms tangle in silken sheets as pillows, down, and bedding seemed to hold her, realizing she's landed in a bed that is not her own. The bedding fabric tightens around her wrists and ankles, forcing her body into a prone position, forcing her into a vulnerable position, even as she struggles in the dark. A rustling catches her attention, her body tense as she tries to place where the noise came from. She could see nothing in the gloom, no matter how much she tried. Nil's voice slithered through the murk.

"You're home now, my magnificent queen. Home and safely held, to get you acclimated to life here, to the absence of light." The sound of fabric falling to the ground came from her left, followed by dragging footsteps echoing across the space, Emma's breath coming in panicked gasps.

She feels the creak of the bed near her feet, a knee against her calf as a feathered hand slid up her thigh. Emma pleads for him to stop, desperately trying to get away from his touch.

Nil's voice is silky against her hip. "You'll get used to this too, not that I mind. Fighting makes a better future king."

Screams ripped from her throat and he pulled away, hissing at the noise. "Dark One! Hold her mouth silent!"

Killian appears through the darkness, leaning over her as she begs and pleads for this to stop. His eyes glow blue, and they are still so sad as his hand covers her mouth, muffling her voice. He looks close to tears, like he's breaking himself, his hand trembling against her lips while he tries to comfort her even as Nil returns to her thigh.

"Emma, I'm so sorry, Emma, shhhhh, please." The room grows brighter, his eyes are brighter and he is clenching his jaw in fury. Emma can feel the light coming back, but Nil's hands press on, too close to where they should never be, and her begging gets louder along with Killian’s voice right above her, "Emma, are you alright?"

And no, she isn't, but the room is gone and he's saved her, eyes blue in her blurry vision -

Waking up in terror after the rum had worn off, Emma had hoped for more sleep, but even the alcohol was unable to combat her nightmare on the deck. The dream continued to plague her, pieces of it making her breath catch until it fades. Killian was in her dreams more frequently since his return, both ambivalent and malicious in each turn. Killian had helped her down into those chambers, and although she still was slightly hazy, it was a welcome change.

It was odd to be in the room of a person that had changed into a stranger inside his own skin, the remaining discarded bits of what was a life scattered in disarray. Lighting a candle, she looked at the open trunk and the uniform placed reverently over a desk chair, letting her fingers run along the buttons and brush the fringe of the epaulets. The books she had pulled earlier were still out, and she opened dog eared pages, surprised by the different sets of handwriting in the margins.

Sturdy, block text that reminded her of laws and bills that her parents had to sign underlined passages, while a flowery script poked fun at those footnotes. The flowery text seemed to enjoy more poetry and philosophy, which the block text had teased heavily. Based on what she knew, Liam and Killian respectively were the authors, Killian’s text much more chaotic and flamboyant. Another hand's script had joined later, letters beautiful and words softly pushed together. It wrote love notes in the corners, or bracketed passages, occasionally a watercolor picture left tucked neatly in the pages where they wrote paragraphs. Milah, Emma assumed.

Killian had once painted, she discovered after finding a ribbon bound stack of his work. Pictures of Milah were his main focus, then the water, landscapes, and animals. His work was humorous and surreal on occasion too, and Emma wondered what that man had been like, before everything happened. He had been different then, and it made her feel anxious and vulnerable to wonder if that man was still buried somewhere within the tortured soul she now kept company with.

Stripping to her shift to combat the last of summer's heat, she laid down on the bunk, surprised at the luxurious nature of the bedding. Here in the cabin, she could better hear the water, waves rocking the ship. Later, she heard his footfalls, opening her eyes briefly as he whispered that she was alright, stroking her hair gently.

Emma could feel the remnants of the dream, the same as before and the same that had haunted her since she had found herself in Ursula's domain. He kept on with his soothing until the tension in her shoulders fell away, the traced patterns against her scalp in sync with the waves. The ghost of the old Killian still remained, she mused smiling sleepily, the one she could trust. She fell immediately back to sleep, resting for the first time in weeks and dreaming of home.

19 notes · View notes

starbide · 5 years ago

Text

Inspiration below. The following is a work of fiction.

'Six years,' I thought to myself walking down the road. It had rained earlier that evening, but by now the clouds were long gone. The pavement shimmered in the waxing moonlight, still slick with the water of those vanished clouds. I would not slip; the road was mostly level as it lazily stretched down the gentle hill behind me, and the streetlamps cast in gold what the moon would otherwise leave dim. The world was silent.

'It's hard to believe I've been gone that long,' I continued, step by step. Six years since I'd moved away for my career. Six years since I'd left my family behind. 'Left her behind,' I smirked to myself, passing a large bush on my right. Houses stood dark and serene on either side, all daily activities complete and put to rest. No cars joined me on the waterlogged street, preferring the concrete comfort of their driveways and garages. I approached and passed under another hazy lamp.

It was cool out, a gentle breeze brushed past the wool of my jacket without raising a single goose bump. I paid it no mind; I was always a bit warmer blooded than others in my circle. My best friend for most of my school years couldn't understand my ability to wear shorts comfortably year-round. 'Those were the days,' I mused, thinking back to the last time we'd seen each other. It had to be more than a decade at this point, long before I'd moved north for work and expanded my wardrobe to include legwear longer than my knees.

I reached an intersection and paused. Four ways, no direction more enticing or foreboding than the next. A lamp at every corner, and the bus station deserted save by its sign across the diagonal. The station I'd waited at patiently every morning for that bright yellow school bus, before I'd ever met my old bestie. It was just me and one other kid, a rather scrawny looking boy who had been in most of my elementary grades but with whom I'd never really gotten on with. We'd shared classes, teachers, and the occasional pencil or marker, but never played together outside of academia. He'd moved away much longer than a decade ago. Now I was really delving into my memory, faded as it was with time.

I checked my phone: 11:57 PM in small white font. My first night back home, I should be exhausted. This wasn't my normal time zone and airplane seats aren't exactly memory foam, but I'd found a second wind after dinner and took to the night after my folks had gone to bed themselves. Sure, I'd been physically gone for six years, but we'd stayed in touch off and on since I'd left. Maybe five months back was our last video call. We'd talked about me taking this trip, now that things had settled down and my life was much more under control. Things had been wild for a while, and if all went according to plan at work things would become wild again not too far down the line. Which reminded me, I needed to make another appointment when I returned home. Couldn't go running out of my prescription again.

A brief twitch of motion caught my eye, and I peered down the leftward lane. One of the bulbs had burned out a few dozen meters down, and in this larger pool of darkness something had moved. At least I thought it had, but my eyes could be playing tricks on me with the shadows. One dark spot moving erratically through a larger, differently dark spot wasn't exactly proof of anything. But of course, my heartbeat quickened regardless. Base human instinct, I suppose. Spot a motion in the dark, prepare to act to either fight or flee.

That hallucination had triggered something else in me though. A memory, unconsciously bidden, rose up behind my eyes. That kid, the little one I'd shared a bus stop with for years, I did not recall being nice to often. Many times, I'd engaged in common teasing, and he always took it personally. A couple times he'd even cried, but I'd never gotten in much trouble for it. A different time I supposed. That sort of behavior wouldn't fly nowadays, and that's good. I felt a bit sick thinking back about it, as it was now clear I'd been a bit of a bully. What it hadn't been was a wake-up call for my parents, who didn't get me the help I had so desperately needed until much later in my teens. I was better now, better enough to see what I'd done back then was very wrong. I couldn't remember all of it, but that boy's tears had stuck with me. I wonder what happened to him?

Shaking my head to clear my thoughts and calm my pulse, I opted for the path in front. This route would wind close to the park, after a couple turns beyond my current field of vision. Crossing the street, I didn't even bother looking left or right, as the night was so quiet and empty, I could hear a car coming from miles away, if there were any to hear. A rock lay in the far side gutter; I kicked it just to give my ears some stimulation. It knocked against the cement curb and bounced across puddles thin as saran wrap to a rest. By then I'd already forgotten about it and left that intersection behind.

Another thought was creeping up from my subconscious, this one more distasteful than the last. I'd left a girl behind when I moved for work, and the breakup hadn't been pleasant. She'd been very upset, naturally, and felt betrayed I was abandoning her like that. Abandoning. It had been her word, not mine, but with the clarity of distance I could see she was right. It had been years since I'd considered how we ended, and I wasn't sure what spurred those thoughts just now, but after what I'd done to her, I could accept she was right.

Still though, rounding the first turn, my leaving her should have been a good thing. Now that the floodgates of memory were open, I may as well dive right in. She'd been so hurt by my sudden departure because I'd systematically isolated her from her friends and much of her family too. She'd grown more and more attached to me, and I'd encouraged that through some particularly devilish means. I didn't know about the term 'gaslighting' at the time, but that was a polite way of putting it. I'd been very proficient at psychological manipulation back then, and my desire for control over her life could have consumed us both. At the end, she'd only had limited contact with her sister, who had been rightly concerned about her but too terrified of me to do anything to stop me. Looking back, I can't blame her. I now believe it was good that I left when I did. I hope she realized the same, though I haven't heard from her since.

Now the road turned left, arcing gradually around a thicker cluster of trees. This walk was turning out to be less relaxing than I'd hoped. The smallest things seemed to be dredging up thoughts and old memories in me, and none of them were painting me in the best light. Being my thoughts, maybe that was the best light I could possibly be presented in. Maybe their memories of me, the version of me still living in their mind, was far worse than I could imagine on this unassuming suburban night. I'd read somewhere that we're all the hero of our own story, and of course the hero never thinks they're the villain. But I'm sure that's what I am in at least a few people's stories. I'm starting to feel like the villain in my own.

Opening up ahead of me is the park, and the wide-open fields I remember so well. This area is less well lit, with streetlamps only illuminating the edges of the grass and allowing the moon to bathe the world in dead white. In reality, this is only sunlight reflected, but from the moon it feels much less like the bright star that gives this planet life. Like Luna itself, it feels cold and impersonal, like it wouldn't actively try to end my life but also wouldn't even notice if I merely faded away into the ether. I'd had some trouble with those thoughts as well over the years, before I got help. And now, rushing back to me, I remember they were also why I lost my best friend.

He and I had been out for the evening, playing some game with a few other friends. The game had ended, and we were walking home together when a car had rushed past us. Neither he nor I were injured, but it had been close and the driver had continued on recklessly. After it rounded the corner, we'd both heard a large thumping sound, followed by the rapidly diminishing roar of its engine. After a quick glance between us we'd rushed around the corner ourselves to see a big yellow dog crumpled up in the drain. Not losing a moment we hurried up to it, but we needn't have rushed. It had most likely died on impact, before we even saw it.

My friend had knelt down next to it to try and save it, even though it was hopeless. He must have known, but it's only natural to want to help another life. At least, it is for me now, and it was for him then. I remember him crouched over the dog, tears in his eyes when he accepted what happened, and then he looked up at me. His tears ebbed and his face froze in fear at what he saw, but he couldn't say anything to me at the time. We walked home in uncomfortable silence after that, and said a short awkward goodbye. Truth be told, that's the last time we spoke to each other in person.

Thinking of the next part, I felt a chill run deep into my core. I remembered now what he told me, over text message later that night. He'd bent over the dog and been so distraught because he knew it. He'd checked the tag to be sure, but it was his neighbor's dog that he'd grown up playing with. I think he'd even muttered its name a couple times, but I'm not sure. But when he looked up at me, he said I had the biggest grin he'd ever seen. The look on my eyes was not maniacal, as some would think, but dead, not present. As if the dog dying had brought out a whole new face in me, as if the lights were on but nobody was home, and yet the lights still wanted to kill you. It had terrified him, and it was all he could do not to sprint from me that moment without looking back. I don't think he ever knew how right he'd been back then, something that took me years to realize and longer to overcome.

I quietly walked to the center of the field, as far from the streetlights as possible, and looked up. The moon provided none of the same dangers as the sun when staring straight at it, and I took a few moments to just gaze at it and let my thoughts sort themselves out. I'd been a monster in my childhood, a terror in my youth, before I found my doctor and we set out on a years-long journey to get me better. Any other time I'd have kept on that dangerous path, ruining some lives and possibly ending others. That had all changed, thanks to my incredible fortune and a lot of hard work, but with the clarity of hindsight I could see just how close to the precipice I'd come. How I'd always be there in the minds of childhood mates and adolescent connections. And this was just what I could remember now. There was no way for me to know how many other monstrous versions of me still lived in any number of former classmates.

In the corner of my eye, I saw another twitch in the shadows. Jerking my head down, I followed the motion to the foot of the trees, the darkest spot on the field. This time there was no mistake; there was definitely an object moving there, slowly but surely. My heartbeat shot up and my throat swelled as I bent my knees and got into a defensive posture. The object lumbered forward, moving without haste but with purpose. When it came into the light, I was surprised to see a little boy with a scratched-up shirt and messy brown hair. Standing up in confusion, I was certain I'd seen him somewhere before. Step by step, I focused on every detail I could make out in the gloom, before it hit me like the car that last night walking home.

That boy was dressed, to the letter, the exact same way I had on picture day in third grade. My hair had been an untamable brown mess, and even the cheap novelty watch was the same. I was more perplexed than anything now, as I couldn't understand for the life of me what a kid was doing in that field, at midnight, wearing clothes that weren't even made any more. That was until he spoke, and his voice froze my blood in its veins.

It was like whispers, floating around my head, and several voices all at once and all taking turns being the loudest. They were all his, but not really. His mouth had opened and his lips were framing the syllables, but it was my voice from so many years ago repeating every taunt, every tease, every foul nickname I'd ever given that scrawny boy who shared a bus stop with me. Who'd cried, not once or twice, but dozens of times. Who'd gone home often with scrapes and tears in his clothes personally inflicted by myself. I had terrorized him for years of his early life, and what I saw before me must be what I forever lived as in his memory.

But if that were true, then this kid in front of me couldn't be real. I had to be hallucinating again, I must have been more exhausted than I'd allowed myself to feel. He sure looked real, though, and his footsteps were matting the grass in a way I didn't trust my mind to make up. But the ghostly, strangled voices of my younger self crashing in waves into my ears gave the entire scene a surreal feeling, making the hair on the back of my neck stick up like electricity. I couldn't bring myself to step away, and I sure as hell wasn't going to walk forward to meet him. It. Whatever it was I was seeing, real or not.

Only a few meters away, he stopped moving. Swallowing bile, I could do little more than watch him as the voices continued to echo in my ears, unchanged by his distance all this time. Then I spotted another motion far off to my right, and then a third to my left. Glancing quickly between them, I determined that they were both noticeably older than the child before me, one by a few more years than the other. They too walked slowly towards me, bringing their own voices to the forefront. Despite the dozens of voices I now thought I was hearing, every word registered clearly in my mind. One was speaking about my old best friend and the dog, the other repeated every lie I ever told my ex-girlfriend before leaving. As if their mere presence in my eyes were not enough, hearing my old, hateful words repeated to me in my own voice almost made me vomit with fear and disgust.

They too, stopped approaching me at the same distance as the child. As they did, dozens more similar hallucinations emerged from the trees and surrounding neighborhood, all carrying their own chorus of hate and venom and bringing back new, abhorrent memories of my youth. Terrorizing a girl in my 4th grade class. Catching squirrels in my early teens and setting them on fire, then getting caught myself. Giving that kindergartner a major concussion on a dare, after my best friend had ceased speaking to me. Even one similar in age to myself now, though he brought words of loss and failure, and of betrayal to my parents. That must have been right before my breakthrough, with the doctor and an early test version of my current prescription. I was better now. I had to be. But why was I seeing all of this, all of these versions of me locked in the minds of everyone who I'd left behind in my life? My trail of destruction?

They had all stopped walking now, forming a tight semicircle around me. The voices still buzzed in my ears, but slowly they faded to an indistinguishable babble. I tried to speak, but my throat had caught a bubble, so I gulped fruitlessly and closed my mount again. The thoughts racing through my mind had no similar handicap, as my mind shouted repeatedly the same things. Who are you all? Why is this happening? What are you doing to me?

The version of me who gaslit my girl took a couple steps forward, as if presenting himself as the leader. I had no time to process what this might mean before he spoke, in a much clearer form than any of these hallucinations had yet. "We are you. We are you that you left behind, trapped in the minds of those you hurt, frozen in time from the moment you left us years or decades ago. We have had no life to live, no chance to grow and thrive, no possibility to leave the prisons of mind which you left us in, being tortured again and again by those you tortured without remorse and without recompense. We cannot sit by from behind our bars as you continue to enjoy the life you stole from us all."

"I didn't know I was doing this!" I cried, finally able to break the blockade in my throat. "I was a monster, I know that well now, and I've spent years trying to recover from the damage I've done!" I felt foolish, yelling out into the night at visions only visible to myself. 'All this work, all this progress,' I cried to myself. 'This will set me back months if not more, and I can only hope my medication doesn't fail like I have.'

The same me looked down at the ground and shook his head slowly. "I'm sorry, but you must know how little that matters to us. You've lived a life of freedom from any repercussions and locked us away to suffer in your place. You've flaunted that fact with your precious medical tools and until tonight, hadn't even remembered us or what you did to torture and imprison us. We are here now for the life that you stole from us, to end the torture you sentenced us to and walked away from yourself unscathed." He took another step forward, his face growing menacing.

"I don't know what that means," I cried, shaking my head as the tears started to drop. This was starting to feel all too real, and fear was expanding like a balloon deep into my core. "I don't know what any of this means. What do you want from me!?"

Another step. "We want your life," the gaslighter said mirthlessly. "We all want your life, the life wrongly denied us time and time again. And you will learn what it means to be ripped apart and put back together, over and over again. Tortured yourself for what you did to so many people in your life. You gave us to them to burn, to break, to grind down into dust and be restored only to do it all over tomorrow. You tortured them, and then you gave them us to work their revenge on, day after day with no hope of an end. And the most unforgivable of all was giving the youngest of you away to feel this pain the longest. Over two decades have the youngest of us been taken to pieces, shattered in mind and body and soul for your carelessness and your fleeting experiments in sociopathy. This will end tonight."

I could say nothing, the terror burning white on my face. If this was a hallucination, it was the worst one I'd ever had and I had no idea how I'd survive it. It was far too realistic, far too deadly for me to think of anything else, any of the tricks and tools my doctor had given me. What had happened to cause this? I swear I never missed a day on my prescription, and these memories... Where had they all been before? Why had I not been able to recover them and work through them with my doctor? Were they even real? Was this me, standing only a meter away now, real? Or was he only real in my mind, and if he wanted to hurt me would that distinction make a difference? I reached out my hand, reaching toward his arm slack against his torso...

And he reached out and took my wrist like a vice. Ice cold and unflinching, he held my arm up in front of me and closed the gap between us imperceptibly fast. "You may have many regrets. I have only one," he said in a low, bloodthirsty voice. "While there are dozens of us gathered here, dozens you sentenced to eternal damnation without a second thought, only one of us may live this life. I may not be the youngest of your victims, I may not give you the longest time in the torture you gave us, but I intend to fight with everything you have put me through these long years. Your life is mine."

As he growled in my face, a white-hot streak of terror shot through me and I pushed him back with almost reflexive strength. He staggered, rebalanced, then looked at me with cannibalistic hunger in his eyes. He panted twice, then screamed and lunged at my neck. With adrenaline now coursing through me, I turned and sprinted away from the gathering, hearing the pounding of footsteps deep in my brain. He had grabbed my arm. I glanced at it as I reached the sidewalk and saw a chalk white handprint etched into my grayish skin. The urge to vomit came back, but I managed to fight it down as I kept up a faster pace than I'd ever run before. The swarm of my past, tortured selves was hot on my heels, like starved dogs following fresh game. Any loss in my speed and I'd be eaten alive, or worse. I truly did not know what would happen if they caught me, and my mind was too far gone to even entertain the idea of hallucinations any more.

I rounded the next curve and thought the sound of the pack was a little quieter than before. It still sounded like pure rage and bloodlust, but with fewer voices than before. Thinking it was only a few stragglers being blocked by the trees, I kept up the fastest pace I could, not even feeling my feet hit the ground. Another hundred meters of straightaway and it was definitely growing less loud with each step. The roar was diminishing, no trees to hide the sound now, but it was still a roar. By now a cramp had begun to grow in my stomach, and no matter what I did I felt myself losing speed. Every few steps I could burst forward faster again, but I couldn't maintain the same rocket pace as before. To my ears, though, as my speed gradually fell, so did the volume of my pursuers. By the time I got to the intersection, it only sounded like a couple of me were still hunting, and I could count their individual footsteps. It was at this time I chanced a look behind, just to know what was still coming.

Right on my neck was him, the gaslighter. He grinned at me, his face less than a meter away. I felt that same shock explode throughout my body and I shot forward, faster than before if possible, fully terrified again now that I knew he and he alone was here for me. I kept running and running, past houses, lanes, and bushes. Still no signs of life from any houses, no cars rumbling down the road or creaking into place in a driveway. The night was as empty and uncaring as before, and only myself and the predator I had been broke the gentle midnight breeze. My legs thundered on, screaming in pain in their own way, but I didn't stop or look back again until I'd reached my family's old house a few blocks down.

Now truly running on empty, I turned back to face my hunter, but he was gone. Disappeared. Evaporated into the night, nowhere to be seen. The moon still hung high, reflecting some small percentage of sunlight down to me, and the streetlamps bathed the road and yards in amber light. He wasn't hiding from me, he hadn't overtaken me. There was no shortcut to the house, it was a straight shot from the park. He was simply gone, faded back into the night from which he'd come without a trace. If he'd ever really been there at all, and not merely a hallucination from exhaustion or medication or... I didn't even know any more. I just knew that he was gone, just gone, just gone.

"Hey, are you okay?" A voice called out to me. I jumped, but only in surprise. It was a familiar voice, but not familiar like my own. It sounded like my dad, and I heard large, calm footsteps walk toward me from our front door.

"Yeah," I said, although it was little more than a whisper. I buckled over, fell to my hands and knees, and felt the cramps and burning in my lungs catch up to me as the adrenaline faded away. I felt like vomiting, for the third time that night, but this time it was easier to fight the urge than before. I got some deep breaths in as I panted on the ground, slowly but surely recovering from my insane dash moments before.

My dad walked up in front of me, wearing the same well-worn brown leather shoes he'd owned since before I left. I didn't want to worry him about this night, and what I thought I saw in the park. Not when my recovery was going so well. Not when a lapse like this would mean months of work just to get back to where I was only an hour ago. "I'm okay dad, I just went for a walk. Then I saw how late it was and tried to get back as fast as I could. I guess I'm not the athlete I used to be, eh?" I tried to lift my head up to give him a weak smile, but still couldn't raise it much higher than his waist

He chuckled softly, and sounded a little strange. Still sleepy maybe, I guess I woke him up coming back here, and maybe I was screaming too. I don't know any more, I don't know what was real any more. But he knelt down in front of me after I dropped my head again, still exhausted, and said, "That's okay sport, I think we both know your real talents weren't on the field. I learned that lesson very well over the past six years."

#horror #creepypasta

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