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jmsebastian · 4 years ago

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Metroid Prime 2 Really Enjoys Wasting Your Time

If I’m being completely honest, I’ve always thought the praise that the Metroid Prime series got was overblown. Don’t get me wrong, Metroid Prime, in particular, is a good game, but the series seemed to suffer in ways that the 2D games never did. Most of these issues come down to asking players to scour every inch of every level in order to find a critical item or hidden path forward. That is in the spirit of the classic 2D Metroid games, Super Metroid in particular, but 2D presentation allows for those sensibilities to shine because it doesn’t take all that much effort to examine what’s on screen in a 2D game. Even the map, as intricate as it is, only allows for four directions of exploration. After playing the game for a while, it’s pretty easy to look at a room you’re currently in, compare it to the map, and check out areas that may contain secrets.

When you move that into 3D space yet try to maintain the amount of detail that’s present in the 2D games, you’re going to have a mess on your hands. To solve this problem, Metroid Prime took a very minor component of Super Metroid, the scanning visor, and basically made a whole game out of it, all while trying to remain an action game. Scanning objects is easily the worst part of Metroid Prime. It essentially forces you to crawl your way through an area the first time, stopping every few feet to look around with the scan visor. Scannable items are highlighted in red if you haven’t scanned them before, which is supposed to help you quickly determine what you need to focus on, but so many rooms have numerous items to scan, which destroys the pacing.

Granted, not every item is important, so you can get by without scanning a great deal of the available items, but seeing as progress is often locked behind items you need to scan, or knowledge you gain from a scanned item, you are heavily encouraged to scan anything and everything. When you realize just how much of your time is spent scanning items, you realize how little of it is spent actually exploring, fighting bosses, and having fun.

Yes, many of these chairs have to be scanned in small groups or individually for...some reason.

Metroid Prime 2: Echoes has all of the same problems as Metroid Prime and then really doubles down wasting the player’s time. The biggest change from Prime to Echoes is the introduction of the Dark World. The Dark World concept is pretty much lifted directly out of A Link to the Past, meaning that in order to make progress, you have to hop back and forth between the Light and Dark World in order to discover new areas, obtain new abilities, and change things in one world to impact the other. Conceptually, this is a great idea and it’s actually amazing it took until 2004 for this idea to be brought into the Metroid universe. Unfortunately, the execution is hampered by one extremely important detail: the Dark World actively hurts Samus just by being there.

I know there’s a story reason for all this, but it completely ruins the game. Initially, being in the Dark World at all takes a huge toll on your health very quickly, so you can’t spend very long in it. The only protection you get are these little beacons of light that project domes of safety. This, naturally, sets you up for the expectation that you’ll eventually get a suit upgrade that lets you withstand this constant HP drain. This is true, but it doesn’t happen until maybe the last (and most boring) 10% of the game that just has you backtracking through a bunch of areas to get some keys. Before that, you do get one suit upgrade that reduces the damage done, but you still take damage in the Dark World for the vast majority of the game, making exploring far more dangerous than it’s generally worth.

If you know what you’re doing, are good at the game, and don’t face too many issues with combat, you can get through the Dark World areas without losing too much health over time. Unfortunately, I’m not especially great at these games and tend to take a lot of punishment in enemy encounters. Since the game is extremely stingy with regard to its health and ammo pickups, I dread every time I have to go into the Dark World, fearful that I might get stuck out between safety zones or trapped fighting enemies for too long.

Thankfully, you can recover your health in the Dark World by hanging around those safety beacons. Unfortunately, the health restoration is so slow (about 1 HP every second), that you will spend a lot of time standing around doing nothing, waiting for your health to reach a point where you feel confident about going out and fighting or exploring more. I can’t think of a more blatant way to waste the player’s time. First, the suit that reduces the HP penalty in the Dark World should just eliminate the effect altogether. There is no really good reason you couldn’t take damage early on in the Dark World, find the suit upgrade, and then be free to traverse without penalty. I’d prefer that the Dark World not damage you at all, but I get that there is a narrative purpose to this, initially.

You’ll spend a lot of time just standing around in these safe pods, waiting.

What I can’t reconcile is just how slowly your HP regenerates when you’re in a safe zone. The reason it’s so slow is because there are enemies that engage you in rooms that contain these beacons and obviously they didn’t want players to be able to camp out under the beacon and just mindlessly shoot until the enemies died while they faced no serious danger. It seems that a better solution would have been to simply reduce the number of safety beacons a bit, or make sure enemy encounters were in areas that didn’t contain them. That way the threat of exploring would still exist, but if you did get in trouble, you could just backtrack to a beacon, stand around for a few second, then go back out and try again.

Instead, you still have to stand around beacons if you go exploring for too long or take too many hits, and the time spent doing it is drastically extended. Maybe having faster health regeneration would still make the game too easy, but I’d take a game that’s too easy over one that literally stops my progress so I can stand around for an arbitrarily long amount of time, actively making me not want to continue exploring.

Going back to the issue with detail, Prime 2’s map system does little to alleviate the inherent issues with exploring complicated level designs from the first-person perspective. One of the reasons I tend to have gripes with first-person perspective games is because they do a very poor job of mimicking what it’s like to actually see a space with your eyes. Most of this is related to peripheral vision what you can see in your peripheral vision in real life, as well as the fact that you can move your eyes around in your head, shifting your focus, without actually turning your head. You really can’t do that in games because you’re detached from the space by a screen. To look around, you have to physically move your character’s head (the camera) in the direction you want to look. It’s extremely disorienting to me and as a result I often get lost in games, even ones that don’t have levels as intricate as those found in the Prime series.

Naturally, there is a map in the game, and it is absolutely vital to navigating the game. However, reading the map is, in itself, a challenge because it, too, is in 3D. Honestly, it pretty much had to be. The levels in Echoes are extremely complicated (needlessly so, I’d say). Of course, it’s the same map that was used in the original Prime, but due to the levels not being as distinct in Echoes as they were in the first game, as well as the fact that you have a complementary map of the same areas to accommodate the Dark World, we’re looking at another area where you end up spending a great deal of time. I can’t tell you how many times I’d walk into a room, even one I’d been before, check the map, go into an adjacent room, then immediately go back to check the map. When you combine the time spent sitting around waiting to regain health and the time spent simply trying to orient yourself in the map (and often fighting with it since you can easily highlight rooms in floors above or below you by accident), it’s easy to see why the game can take around 20 hours to beat, even when really the game should take about half as long.

As I get older, I get a lot more irritated with games that do things simply to waste your time and pad out the play time. You really get the feeling that the changes made to Prime 2 were done specifically to make sure players spent more time with it, even if the quality of that time was drastically diminished compared to the first game. As such, Echoes is a vastly inferior game to its predecessor, and one that isn’t really worth revisiting. And if all the time wasting isn’t bad enough, it also introduced Dark Samus, which I consider the worst thing to ever happen to the Metroid franchise.

#Metroid Prime #gamecube #metroid prime 2 #nintendo #samus aran

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theonceoverthinker · 8 years ago

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Marital Bliss? : Chapter 1 : A Cursed Life?

Disclaimer: I don’t own Once Upon a Time nor any of the characters, items, or settings.

New to my story and want to catch up? Start from the beginning here!

A/N: Thank you to everyone who read the last chapter! I’ve been writing like a mad woman! Between editing the older chapters, writing the newest one, planning out the future of the fic, watching (and rewatching) the actual show, and ultimately re-defining what I want to do with this story, Once Upon a Time has all but consumed my soul. Then again, it was kind of doing that before! XD

Please review and enjoy!!!!

“A Cursed Life?”

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Robert Gold found that his days had two highlights.

The first was waking up.

Beep.

Robert awoke with a contented sigh. His left cheek was covered from the mid-autumn chill by the guard of flesh at its side while his right cheek was protected, albeit less so, by locks that bordered on the line between brown and dirty blonde, but stayed just dark enough that they were classified by everyone as the former. A heartbeat drummed against his ear, and it belonged to someone who Robert could tell was clearly awake, but was just as clearly trying to feign it in some mad attempt to make him forget the very sound pulsing against his opposing ear. Robert was almost insulted to see such a ploy being considered the least bit credible. He recognized the distinction between his bedmate’s every movement at any given time of the day perfectly, whether it be a heartbeat or the way his fingers trailed down his arms.

Real convincing, Miles.

Robert opened his eyes to an unsurprising sight. He was sprawled on top of his husband Miles’ stomach, his head resting on the other man’s bare, hairy chest, with various other limbs tangled as the only remnants of a satisfying night together. Miles, despite his silent bargaining, was indeed no longer asleep. His eyes were shut, but the more vocal snores that he let out as he rested were no longer audible and now resembled what the raven-haired man merely believed his snores to sound like.

Beep.

The urge to quiet the sounds of the beeping alarm clock on his nightstand were only matched by the consuming temptation to not move out of his and Miles’ warm, affection-fueled cocoon.

Beep.

It’s not going to stop on it’s own, is it?

Looks like my decision’s been made for me��

With a groan, Robert untangled his right arm from his husband’s and hit the alarm clock, ending its cries. However, he barely found himself able to do so, for Miles pulled his arm back the instant their separation became evident.

“Bloody alarm clock,” Miles groaned groggily, his eyes fighting to stay shut. “There’s no way that it’s already seven. I swear, one blink of the eye ago it was still dark.” Robert chuckled. It had become one of his bedmate’s favorite pastimes to deny the absolute truth of the device that slept directly beside him.

“The clock never lies, Miles, and right now, it says it’s seven,” Robert said. He tried to pull himself off of Miles, but his husband was determined to steal more time, the threat of being late for work be damned because he simply refused to be parted from the man in his arms. A hand bunkered down around the small of Robert’s back and the top of his torso was sealed onto Miles’ ribs. “Someone’s feeling in a stubborn mood this morning,” he continued to comment.

“Damn right I am.”

Honestly though, while Robert may have teased about Miles’ reaction, he had no genuine complaints about staying in bed for a few extra minutes. They nights may have been on the verge of getting longer, but that didn’t stop them from feeling as short as they ever were. Compared to facing the too-bright, too-loud, and too-lonely outside world, staying here, in the arms of the one person on this Earth who sincerely and wholeheartedly wanted him was easily the more appealing choice.

So, the couple stayed in bed, keeping each other cozy and happy. Early on, Miles’ stub dropped from Robert’s shoulders, from what Robert assumed was discomfort. Robert’s right hand made its way to the stub, the reminder of the hand that should’ve been there, and simply held it. Stubble tickled his temple, and his forehead stretched; that told him of the smile born of nothing but pure bliss he had earned from his husband for the action. Robert knew the meaning behind the smile, and while it was appreciated, for his purposes, it was completely unnecessary. The hand that once sat upon the stub he held might not have been there, but Robert never saw his husband as any less of a man for it. After all, disabilities had been a common part of their relationship for as long as the two had even known each other.

For Miles, it was his missing hand. For Robert, it was his limp, which bound his movements to the will of a cane.

Miles McAyesty and Robert Gold had first met in the hospital, the juncture where tragedy had dropped them both off. Robert was the sole survivor of a run in with a drunk driver that had deprived him of both a wife and a son. Miles was just a fisherman who, while helping to bring in a net of recently caught seafood, had suffered a bite from a shark hidden in the net’s confines that had cost him his left hand. Fate brought them together as roommates in a hospital, and seemed to leave them in each other’s hands, just as they needed someone to understand their plights the most.

At first, Robert didn’t speak to Miles so much as observe him. The man had a way of making light of his situation to the droves of people that came in and visited him. At first, it made Robert’s eyes roll. The man had lost his hand, and there he was, joking and playing around as if it meant nothing!

It wasn’t until later that night, when visiting hours were over and Miles did start asking questions did Robert understand: The jokes had all been an act, both a coping mechanism and a way to brush off unwanted interlopers in one neat little package. However, whether it be the effect of a performance too well conducted or the simple ineptitude of the hospital’s staff, Miles’ grave seemed to be all but dug, or at least it would have had he not interfered. Referrals for everything from handymen to hotels started flying from Robert’s lips before he even knew it, but even as he was coming to terms with his simple acts of kindness, he wasn’t protesting them.

Miles did the same in kind for him, given the differences of respects for their cases. Most people in Storybrooke, despite their tepid histories with Robert, often described by the townspeople as the uptight landlord with an even tighter grip on his control of the town than his portly wallet, at least had the decency to offer condolences for his losses as they were visiting Miles, but none made a truly sincere effort to assuage his consuming grief. It was pity, and Robert was soon enough more inclined to dismiss his visitors than anything after the condolences, lying about wishing to sleep or get his affairs in order.

Miles, however, was different, and after receiving his much needed help, really talked with Robert, rather than just to him. He would ask about his son and wife, but not just about the accident, but about who they were as people. He asked about how Robert and Lara had fallen in love. He asked about the cartoons Oliver would watch with him. He gave Robert the nickname ‘Rob.’

At first, Robert was convinced it was just pity again. He answered the questions, and while he admitted that the questions succeeded in making him feel better than anyone or anything else had up to that point, he questioned whether Miles’ curiosity stemmed from a place of genuine curiosity, as a settlement of an unspoken debt between them for the information Robert had supplied, or even just as a way of fighting off boredom or further contemplations concerning his new situation. When Miles was discharged from the hospital the following evening, Robert was convinced that that this would be the last he would see of the man.

Surely, someone so popular and beloved by the town wouldn’t waste too much thought on him?

Imagine Robert’s surprise when Miles showed up to visit him the next day, staying from noon until almost ten that night. As soon as he saw Miles there, prepared to give up an entire day of his life just for him, only out of the desire for his company, did Robert discover that Miles was getting him to, while not move past, find hope that he could someday move forward from the incident that had caused him so much pain. Miles urged and convinced Robert to take occupational therapy with him, cheering him on each time Robert learned a new skill, and buying him a drink when he was having too much trouble accomplishing the task of the moment.

It wasn’t a one-way support system either. The two worked together to format Miles’ apartment to accommodate his lost hand, and made sure that everything he would need would be safe and accessible. In addition, Robert made sure that Miles wasn’t over exerting himself. His later husband had a bad habit of feeling insecure about his hand and the abilities that had been hindered with its removal. As much as Miles liked to jest often about his strengths even without the appendage, Robert knew there were just as many occurrences when Miles felt weaker and that he owed it to himself to compensate for the disability. They would appear during the times one would least expect. He would be bringing in groceries or tidying up a room and while the lamentation wouldn’t verbalize itself, it would be plain as day to Robert. Those were the moments that Robert was there for. He, not through pitying dime-a-dozen speeches or fake gestures of compassion, but through examples, a bit of creativity, and the shared knowledge of their similar plights, spent many a night assuring Miles that he had absolutely nothing to prove, and that he was still a whole man in every way, no matter what he did or didn’t do.

They began having dinner together a few times a week, becoming each other’s closest companions in what amounted to no time at all. After a year and a half, feeling that he was finally ready to move on from the loss of his Lara, Robert asked Miles on a date, which was met with far more excitement than Robert had anticipated. As one date turned to many, Miles made a drawer for himself in Robert’s house. Then, on the one-year anniversary of their first date, Miles proposed with a glorious band of gold. Robert’s “yes” had the older man lose any semblance of self-consciousness for the moment and practically jump into Miles’ arms for a kiss. Three months later, they were married, and Robert’s house became their home.

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It took five minutes before Miles finally gave in and opened his eyes, the color of the summertime ocean greeting Robert. Robert never ceased to be amazed at what a gorgeous and stark shade they were.

“Well, if I can say one good thing about getting up early,” Miles started, “it’s that I get to wake up to a very beautiful face.” Miles leaned in to the face in question, planting a soft, yet passion-filled kiss upon Robert’s lips, and he could tell in an instant that it encompassed a thank you for last night. Robert, unwilling to resist Miles’ charm, immediately met his husband’s lips with his own. Miles pressed his tongue to Robert’s lips, and Robert immediately opened his mouth in response. He put his disdain for morning breath to the side and elected to ignore it as his and Miles’ tongue danced.

“Good morning to you too,” Robert said as they finally parted, smiling. Robert caressed the back of Miles’ head. Miles’ smile grew and Robert continued to tickle the short black hairs, getting the grin to a point where Miles was showing off his teeth. Robert loved when he was able to bring that about. Miles, in turn, started swirling around locks of Robert’s hair with his fingers.

Robert leaned in, and Miles, clearly expecting another kiss, closed his eyes in anticipation. But, when Robert got close enough, he turned so that his lips were mere centimeters from Miles’ ear.

“Come on, dearie,” Robert whispered. He tapped his husband’s lap. “We have to get ready.” Robert smirked as his partner reopened his eyes. Albeit rolling his eyes, Miles conceded, and finally removed his arms from Robert’s backside.

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After two quick showers, two quick cups of coffee, and one more kiss that Robert could at least say he made an attempt to keep quick, he and Miles were out the door.

Miles was dropped off first at the docks. There, the S.S. Fairyweather rocked back and forth infinitely alongside the pier, welcoming the staff aboard for another day on the water. Robert reminded Miles to keep his jacket on while he working, and Miles agreed, though his reaction was more reminiscent of a child agreeing with a parent so they could be left alone. Robert rolled his eyes. He’d been on enough boats with Miles, as well as had to care for his sick husband enough times, to know that it could get blisteringly cold out on the sea, especially with winter slowly creeping up on them, getting closer with each passing day. Miles preferred to dress on the lighter side, often complaining about how hot it got in the midst of doing the heavy lifting. Robert didn’t think he was wrong, per se, but that when the temperatures were less than forty degrees, some more caution could stand to be implemented, even if that meant his comfort had to be compromised to a degree.

Robert’s next stop was to his home away from home, his shop. Just on the far side of town, sat Gold’s Pawn Shop. It was the where Robert spent most of his day, surrounded by goods traded in from just about everyone in Storybrooke since it first opened. Antiquities graced every wall and shelf, not to mention a great deal of the available counter space in both the shop itself and the personal office in the back that was hidden by a delicate curtain. Though it was always nice to settle himself on a chair and wait for business to present itself, Robert’s visit here today was a short one. The pawnbroker wasted no time with his typical morning routine, for he was keen on getting his paperwork in order so he could get started on his day.

Today, after all, was the rent day.

Once a month, Robert would go around to all of his properties in Storybrooke he owned and collect the rent. It was a big undertaking, given just how many buildings and plots of land he possessed, but Robert had gotten it down to a science to make sure he could accomplish it in one day, barring a few companies that paid more often.

Why scale down the collection period to only a single day, one may be inclined to ask?

It wasn’t that Robert didn’t enjoy collecting the rent. He definitely did. There was something to enjoy about flaunting his wealth and power in everyone’s face. His outward appearance hardly lent itself to be intimidating to the public, but what his body couldn’t do, his mind, influence, and checkbook could. Robert took pleasure in seeing the hearts of the shopkeepers stop, if only for the barest of seconds as he entered the room. The stoic tone some of Robert’s tenants had as they formally referred to him as “Mr. Gold” created a unique feeling of delight for him.

However, that power came with consequences. The townspeople, over the years, had come to think of Robert as a monster, and rent day did quite a bit to remind him of that. It came out in small ways, of course. No one in their right mind would outright curse out their landlord. However, tight words and whispers behind his back spoke volumes that outright confessions didn’t. It didn’t bother Robert, he argued against himself just as he did many times before. He wasn’t someone who needed excessive amounts of companionship. He didn’t want it anyways, or at least not enough to admit to anyone.

…Maybe he wanted it a little.

...Then again, last time he had had any level of admiration by this town, it been a disaster.

Robert had tried to be kinder in the past with the way he collected his payments, back when he was a greenhorn in the business. He attempted to take a more personal approach to building relationships with those he dealt with professionally and strived to work out reasonable plans for how others would give him his money. His efforts ended with a bottom line very far in the red. He had a large home, but one that’s size swallowed him whole, and the goodwill that he had supposedly earned turned out to be rather conditional when he explained his situation to his tenants, hoping for sympathy and instead receiving empty platitudes and hollow promises for assistance. After that, with morality earning him very little, Robert decided that a change was in order.

A new agreement was issued with very fine print, and Robert’s tenants, too blissful in their ignorance, failed to read the conditions. The payment plans he had worked on for those hard on their luck changed, and left quite a few of the borrowers now scrambling month-by-month to make payments on time, lest they face eviction. Robert himself started dressing sharper and acting more confidently. His tone became harsher when he was acting on business. The result this time was the attention of a woman who would one day be his wife, a child, and a bank account that had more figures than he knew what to do with. Even when he had lost Lara and Oliver, Robert’s sternness played its role in bringing he and Miles closer together.

Because of his practices, Robert had everything he could ever want.

And all it had cost him was a significant level of his humanity.

Sometimes, despite logic proving his methods of life to be ultimately wiser, Robert wished he could be more like his husband.

It was no secret that Miles was easily the more likeable of the two, and Robert conceded that people had good reasons to believe so. For one thing, Miles didn’t go around once a month collecting their money like clockwork, and with a smile on his face to boot. For another, Robert was not someone who one would consider an understanding man. Should one of Robert’s clients be unable to make a payment on time, his usual response was not so much as to work with them, not anymore in any case, but to give them, what he deemed and described as, the ‘adequate pressure’ needed to assure that the mistake would be rectified. Often, this pressure involved confiscating assets integral to the client’s livelihood until the matter was resolved. While this definitely served the purpose of lowering delinquent payments from his clients as well as setting an example of the price of failure, it had an added bonus of making Robert almost universally loathed throughout Storybrooke.

To conclude, Miles was not as much of a, for lack of a better term, social pariah as Robert. When Robert entered a room, he was always looked upon as a force of intimidation, and whether his tenants responded to his presence with either fear or vitriol, the typical interactions were not very open for building meaningful relationships. They paid, and he left. That was the cycle that the landlord and his business lived and thrived by, though it did little to earn Robert any semblance of a social life outside of his husband.

No, Miles did none of those things. Miles was the charming fisherman. He was the man who always had a story or a joke to tell and could get on anyone’s good side in a matter of minutes. He was the one with a golden smile only matched by his golden tongue. When Miles talked to you, the only reason behind it was simply to see if you were well. Needless to say, when they got married, Miles’ friends made up the vast majority of their guest list for the reception.

Robert knew that Miles’ friends didn��t approve of the younger man’s choice of spouse. While none of them would ever say it outright to either of their faces, especially since Robert owned a good portion of their businesses and homes, it was clear that Robert was far from their first choice of a companion for the man. On its own, this was bad enough, but they showed their displeasure often, granted through more subtle means. Most to all of their interactions with Miles didn’t include Robert, and significantly more often than not, when Miles actually managed to convince Robert to join his friends and he in whatever plans they had, many of them would end up dropping out before the plans could even occur. However, if Miles noticed it, he never seemed to let it get to him.

“More for us,” he would say when his friends would all become occupied with their spouses, children, or jobs as opposed to going out for drinks on a Saturday night.

“Well, at least no one’s going to mind when we make out like teenagers on this couch,” he would jest when Whale and Leroy would complain about head and stomach aches mere hours before a football game would begin.

“Looks like you get a private gun show,” he would boast after “work stuff came up” for five people almost simultaneously on a beach day that was planned far too well in advance for such a drop-out to be deemed appropriate or even possible.

Just as Robert had been was when he was younger, Miles too was understanding, patient, and kind to all those he came across, and just like Robert, he suffered for it. His friends could hardly deal with Robert, even if it meant abandoning Miles.

The difference between Robert and Miles, something that didn’t take long for the former to take away from the latter at all was that these snubs and slight, as numerous as they were, never stopped Miles from continuing to give everyone he knew his best. He wasn’t overly trusting of course, but he helped where he thought he could. Sometimes, despite an unspoken agreement between the two that Miles would generally stay out of Robert’s businesses, his heart led to him asking for Robert to be merciful to his debtors. All too often, Robert, faced with pleas for sympathy from his husband would find that he did, in fact, have the moral capacity to follow the advice given.

Honestly, I don’t know what I did to deserve him. He’s much too good for me.

Robert sighed, continuing on with his day.

Well, I have him, deserving of his love or not. Couldn’t hurt to try and be a little better, if only for him.

The first few hours worth of stops on his route were as standard as they ever were. Payments would come in swiftly, and he’d be curtly encouraged to leave, sometimes not even subtly, as soon as the money was in his hands.

The next place Robert’s collection tour led him to was Granny’s. Robert parked his car down the road. There were a lot of properties he owned along Main Street, so he knew he’d be there for some time. The diner had people walking in, groups at a time, as he approached. Robert didn’t need to look at his watch to know that the lunch rush was approaching. He always scheduled his pickup to be around this time. Robert and Granny seldom saw eye-to-eye, and he didn’t pretend there wasn’t some enjoyment to be taken about landing another burden upon the grumpy elderly woman’s shoulders.

Robert examined the current state of the restaurant and its owner through the window. Granny stood in the midst of the mayhem, holding a cup of coffee in one hand and a plate with a grilled cheese sandwich in another. After a moment, the chef made eye contact with him, and her eyes rolled.

Ordinarily, Robert would’ve walked into the restaurant without even a second thought.

It would’ve been as easy as the pie he guaranteed someone was ordering at that very moment.

But then Robert started thinking about Miles, and the conclusion he reached earlier.

Perhaps this would be step one towards being a little better.

Again, I guess it couldn’t hurt.

Just as Granny was about to call her granddaughter for help, he made a stopping motion with his hand, making his intentions known that he would come back later for the acquisition of his money.

Robert wasn’t sure what to expect. Would she give him another eye roll? Would she simply ignore him and go back to her regulars?

As it turned out, his kindness had bore some fruits.

Granny responded with a grateful nod and the barest beginnings of a smile before returning to serving her many customers.

It was a small gesture, but it was so rare to see anyone outside of Miles respond to him with anything that resembled kindness. It made the whole endeavor feel…worthwhile.

I have to admit, that went better than I thought it would.

The rest of Robert’s afternoon was rather uneventful. He continued on through the town. Riding the high of his experiment at the diner, he did attempt to engage in small talk as his money was prepared from some of the less hostile tenants. To some extent, it worked. A few answered the questions he asked, and a couple of them even went so far as to ask about himself and Miles.

Still, most followed the same procedure: They paid, and he left. Some included their own varieties of snark in an attempt to hide their fear as they handed Robert all manner and forms of money.

The last client of the day was particularly snippy, easily the hardest he had dealt with all day. She was a teenager in charge of giving him a check for the mortgage on her parent’s house, and had less than kind things to say about the struggle her parents faced every month thanks to him.

Under normal circumstances, Robert might have “suddenly needed” to spring a five percent rise in the minimum payments per month for “extra insurance,” as he often put it, or some other consequence of the kind, but he took a deep breath.

Would Miles do that?

No. No he wouldn’t, and you shouldn’t either. She’s just a child worried for her family.

Oliver would’ve done the same for you, even at her age.

That thought gave Robert cause for a pause. It didn’t happen often, and Robert wished that it would not happen at all, but on a rare occasion, a day would go by where he didn’t think of his son. Today, had it not been for that young girl, would had nearly been one of them.

Robert took his money politely excused himself, mentally muting anything else the girl had to say, and got into his car, simply sitting there as memories of a son who no longer lived flooded his mind.

Oliver. You would’ve been the finest young man to ever tread the streets of Storybrooke. You were too good for this world.

Halloween was approaching. Years ago, Robert would’ve been helping Oliver pick out a costume, caught between laughing as a little Dracula ran throughout the house and scolding the boy for endangering himself by doing so. He should’ve still been doing things with his boy, regardless of the passing years. Or at the very least, even without him around, Oliver should’ve been doing things, happily with groups of friends, or perhaps even a lover at this point.

It wasn’t fair.

Life just isn’t the same without you, and it never will be again.

Robert stayed in the car. He knew with a phone call, Miles would be by his side, but right now, he just wanted to ride this wave of grief out by itself. It wasn’t that Miles was a bad source of comfort, not at all. Miles had helped pull Robert up from a nearly-consuming depression and allowed for him to move forward. Right now though, Robert just wanted to fall back, and sometimes to do that, he just needed to be alone.

It took time, but after a while, Robert found himself able to put his grief into some degree of rest and make his way back to the house.

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Robert’s second highlight of the day was coming home from work.

The lights were on, signaling that Miles was already inside. He liked walking home from work most days, though with winter approaching, Robert would soon insist upon assisting him with the return trip too, and Miles would begrudgingly agree.

I swear, I don’t think he cares if he gets pneumonia.

When he opened the door, Miles was right there, waiting with a smile and a kiss, as he always did.

“Welcome home, love,” Miles murmured, loosening his lips from Robert’s before, going in for another. Breathing his husband in as they kissed, Robert was treated to traces of salt water, his husband’s natural musk, and just a hint of freshly poured rum.

“Good welcoming you came up with,” Robert returned.

“As if that’s all I prepared,” Miles said smiling. “I cooked your favorite tonight. Freshly caught and breaded cod.” Robert grinned, and his eyes lit up. Miles, as were all employees of the S.S. Fairyweather, offered some of the fish they caught in addition to their salary, and fortunately for Robert, Miles was one hell of a cook. “But wait! That’s not all,” Miles added. “I also made Spaghetti Alfredo with spinach, tomatoes, roasted red peppers, and asparagus,” he continued, seductively emphasizing every vegetable put into the pasta, much to Robert’s amusement. “Now what do you think,” he smirked.

Robert licked his lips. He was thinking quite a lot of things, both about the delicacies that were to be on his table and about the man who put them there.

If he keeps this up, I may just have to drag his ass to the bedroom before dinner is served.

Instead of verbalizing his answer, Robert opted to show it by immediately crashing their lips together. He didn’t understand how Miles did it, but he always managed to make Robert feel better during his worst days. Robert wanted to return that. He vowed that he would in many respects, over time, but right now, he could do so in a deep, fervent, and slightly rough kiss.

As they pulled back, Miles smirked at Robert.

“Am I the best husband or what?”

“Let’s just see if your bark is as good as your bite, love,” Robert playfully mocked as he led Miles by the stub into the kitchen.

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Robert swore that Miles should’ve become a chef.

He was honestly surprised he wasn’t the size of a bear, given how often he tore through his meals, tonight’s included.

One of these days, I’m going to sign him up for a cook-off.

The chef of the hour and Robert had finished Miles’ mouthwatering dinner, and as the last morsels of food on their plates began to digest, the couple turned their attention towards cleaning up the remnants. With not an ounce of salvageable sustenance left to put into Tupperware, Robert began handing Miles dishes, and Miles began to rinse and ready them for a trip into the dishwasher.

“Forgot to mention something earlier,” Miles said as he and Robert exchanged another plate. “Couple of the guys and I might grab a few pints at Granny’s next week for Halloween. Want in?”

Probably not the best idea, given that your friends hate me.

That will be a long project, even if Granny doesn’t hate me anymore.

Granny…

Granny’s.

Damn it.

Robert groaned. His last collection of the day had completely skipped his mind. Between thoughts of his son at the end of his workday, and Miles’ gestures as soon as he came home, he had completely forgotten about the rent that as still not in his grasp.

“You don’t have to come if you don’t want to,” Miles reassured, raising his soapy hand and brace-clad stub as to make a surrendering motion.

“No! It’s not that,” Robert quickly exclaimed, raising a hand of his own. “I forgot to pick up the rent from Granny’s. She was in the middle of her lunch rush when I passed by, so I decided to go later. I forgot to collect it before I came home.” Robert sighed. “I better take care of it now, otherwise I’m going to forget again. I’m sorry about leaving you with the clean-”

“Stop,” Miles interrupted. “No apologies needed, love. Go take care of it.” He began holding Robert’s chin with his hand, the same gentle, understanding smile on his face that could make anyone fall in love with him that he always had.

I still can’t believe out of everyone in this world, he chose me.

Robert could feel his cheeks grow red, and Miles smirked knowingly. He distracted himself from the growing blush on his face by playfully trying to pull away from Miles. “Go away! You’re getting soap all over me,” he whined. Miles let him go, but not before snatching a tender kiss that made Robert’s heart jump with delight.

“I love you,” Robert breathlessly whispered before they drew away.

“I love you too,” Miles returned. Robert cleaned his face off, and made his way outside the house.

As he got into his car and drove towards Granny’s, his last exchange with Miles still fresh in his mind, Robert couldn’t stop smiling.

The town still couldn’t stand him. Even with a lot of effort on his part, Robert was aware that wasn’t going to change anytime soon. He still had pain, both physical and emotional that he would have to deal with on a regular basis. However, to a large extent, Robert couldn’t find it in himself to hate his circumstances, for he knew that at the end of the day, he had the man of his dreams waiting for him at home, and that was more than enough for him.

Problems aside, his life was truly charmed.

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A/N: Editing this chapter gave me a lot to think about. The first time that I wrote it, it simply established the kind of lives that Rumple and Killian’s cursed counterpart were living. That’s still true, don’t get me wrong, but what editing this chapter really had me do was to explore the town of Storybrooke and make it real. I liked that. I also received some writing advice that’s really going to shape how I write going forward.

I’d love to get some feedback, so please give me your thoughts! Otherwise, see you next chapter!

#once upon a time #ouat #captain hook #rumple #killian jones #rumplestiltskin #golden hook #captain crocodile #marital bliss

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