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psychosistr · 5 years

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The Third Caballero- Chapter 2

Summary: Donald and the other caballeros leave the mansion for the night to get some sleep, but have to rush back when an old enemy from Scrooge’s past puts their family in danger.

Notes: Well, first chapter got to be fluff, so now we get to have some (probably unnecessary but still fun to write) magic action-adventure scenes.

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The party began to wind down as the night wore on, some who lived in the area or who were staying in hotels nearby heading home for the evening. By the time it was almost midnight, only Scrooge, Della and her boys, Donald, Panchito, José, and the last few of the servants who were tasked with cleaning up the mess from the party remained in the vacation house.

Throughout the night, Donald had kept two secrets from everyone else at the party- the truth about him quitting the navy, which he and the others kept simply by not telling anyone, and the gift that Scrooge had given him, which he kept by simply hiding the locket under his shirt. He would proudly show it off to José and Panchito later, but, for now, his closest friends and family were having a pleasant evening as they counted down the minutes to the official day of Christmas.

“Well,” Della said with a yawn and a stretch while getting to her feet and holding two armfuls of snoozing ducklings. “I think it’s time for these little guys to get some rest.”

“You as well, lass.” Scrooge commented, looking physically and mentally exhausted from dealing with the large multitude of people who would be back in the morning for more celebrations. “You three spending the night as well?” He asked while looking at the trio of feathered friends.

“Nah, we’re gonna go get some sleep on the houseboat.” Donald yawned as he rubbed the sleepiness from his eyes. “See you guys in the morning.”

“Night, guys!” Della called softly but with a teasing tone as she headed for the staircase. “Try to actually get some sleep!”

Donald flustered and shook a fist at her in warning. “Why you-!”

José laughed and grabbed onto his friend’s arm with one hand, tipping his hat politely to Della. “Sonhos agradáveis, Della, Senhor Scrooge.”

Panchito chuckled as well and took his novio’s other arm while waving to the other two ducks. “Buenas noches, my friends!”

“A little more than friends by now, I’d say..” Della commented with a wink and a tongue stuck out briefly before ascending the steps with her small flock nestled in her arms.

Donald blushed more under his feathers, but allowed José and Panchito to guide him by the arms out of the mansion. “I dunno who’s gonna be the death of me first- her, or you guys…”

“It will be a close call indeed.” José joked while Panchito opened the door for them.

“She does have a head start on us by a few years.” Panchito added, the three amigos heading for the docks and their future home.

As they made their way to the boat and the others left in the mansion prepared for bed or finished their cleaning and headed home, everyone failed to take notice of a shadowy figure creeping into the building through one of the back doors left unlocked as the servants took out the last of the trash…

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Donald lounged on the deck of the houseboat in a comfortably large hammock, his two dearest friends in the world nestled comfortably on either side of him as they watched the multitude of fireworks being set off in the sky from different people in the city to officially celebrate it being Christmas Day. It was a pretty comforting sight, to see so many colors and shapes among the normally dark sky- the stars were not usually visible around this time of the year due to the many small light-trees set up around town (not to mention the large one in the middle of town).

Donald gave a quiet yawn and let his head fall back against someone’s shoulder (Panchito’s, most likely, as he was the tallest and always ended up being the one they laid on somewhat, but he never minded). The weather was cool but not cold at all, even with the breeze coming off of the water, and it ended up being tempered by the warm feather-covered arms wrapped around him on either side.

“Y’know..” He began before being briefly stopped by another yawn. “I think this is the best Christmas I’ve ever had.”

“Mhmm.” José hummed in reply, his own eyes nearly closed as he turned to lie on his side and wrap both arms around Donald. “Sim eu também.”

“¡Igual que aquí!” Panchito said with a bright smile, still the most energetic of the three, even in such a relaxing position. “I think this is the happiest I’ve ever seen you and your family- even your tío Scrooge seemed less grumpy.” He chuckled quietly at his own comment, not wanting to disturb the duck on his shoulder that was just starting to doze off. He had every intention of joining his compañeros in a minute or two, when a brief flash of color in the direction of the vacation house caught his eyes. “Hm?” He looked at it curiously before gently shaking Donald with one hand. “Donald, did your tío put Christmas lights up in the house?”

Donald searched his barely awake mind for an answer. “I don’t think so..he only allows those outside or on the tree…barely..” He rubbed his eyes and turned his head to look towards the vacation house as well. “Why?”

Panchito pointed at the house with a small frown. “Because I don’t remember there being purple lights that flashed like that when we went upstairs.”

Donald sat up more to see it properly, inadvertently waking José fully in the process. “Huh?” Donald observed the windows for a moment before he saw what Panchito was talking about.

There were indeed flashes of purple light coming from upstairs. That was pretty odd since there weren’t any decorations up there, only the bedrooms and some offices or studies, and purple wasn’t exactly a Christmas co-

Then, without warning, one of the windows suddenly shattered from the inside with the glass spraying outwards.

And then he saw fire-orange lights dancing through the halls and his blood ran cold.

“!!!!” He let out a startled squawk and scrambled out of the hammock, sprinting from the boat and down the docks towards the house. “Della! Boys! Uncle Scrooge!”

“Donald!” Panchito called as he ran after him, José close behind.

“Be careful, meus amigos.” The green parrot called as he caught up to the rooster and the duck in stride, adjusting his grip on his umbrella in preparation for the worst case scenario. “We do not know what is happening. Prepare yourselves and be ready for anything.”

The other two nodded in agreement, none of them strangers to dangerous enemies and unexpected threats at this point in their lives.

They reached the door and Donald tried the large double doors, but they wouldn’t budge, even with Donald pulling on them with all of his might. A brief shimmer of dark purple and black energy flashing across the door and its handles gave them a pretty good idea as to WHY they wouldn’t open.

“I hope your tío won’t charge me for this.” Panchito said while drawing one of his pistols from its holster.

Taking aim at the door, he fired off several shots, the other two backing away in case of ricochet. “!!!”

Panchito finished firing and lifted his gun back up, blowing some smoke away from the mouth of the barrel. The trio looked at the shots he’d fired- a glowing red perfect circle around the doors’ handles that broke away when he poked it with one finger, allowing the doors to swing open freely as the energy around them was disrupted.

“Good work, Panchito!” José complimented the rooster and gave him a pat on the shoulder while they ran inside.

The interior was even worse than they expected: There were clear signs of a struggle with several holes having been blown in the walls, various furniture destroyed, and a general feeling of devastation and upheaval around the entire area. There were flames slowly licking away at the stair case as they crept closer from the upper level. Then, most alarmingly, were the odd, shadowy figures walking about the main room.

Upon noticing their entrance, the shadows- for that is what they seemed to be, living shadows- all turned to look at the Three Caballeros with dark glares. They rushed at the trio, their intent to attack more than clear thanks to their raised claws and glowing purple eyes.

Panchito was about to draw his other gun and open fire, when José stepped out in front of both him and Donald. “Vá embora, espíritos das trevas!” He called while raising his umbrella in front of himself.

A dark energy mixed with hints of green swirled along José’s arm before surging into the umbrella. This caused the umbrella to pop open right at the instant the shadow-creatures attacked, a barrier of black energy rimmed with a green fire spreading out from the edges of the umbrella to shield himself and his companheiros.

As the first wave of shadows touched the barrier, they hissed and dissolved on contact- the black magic that created it strong enough to dispel the energy fueling them.

The rest of the shadows quickly realized what was going on and backed away to avoid the same fate. They began to retreat up the stairs, away from the barrier and, presumably, towards their master.

“Don’t let ‘em get away!” Donald shouted, giving chase once José dropped the barrier. With an angry squawk, Donald charged at a pair of shadows and, much to the shadows’ surprise, he grabbed them by their backs and slammed them into the floor- causing them to burst away as if they were made of smoke. “!!!!” Donald’s hands took on a faint blue glow as he quickly moved on to the next closest shadows, startling the creatures by being able to both touch AND harm them with his bare hands.

With Donald busy taking care of the shadows at the back of the pack, Panchito finally drew his second pistol and took aim at the ones closer to the front. Closing one eye to line up his shots, a red energy pulsed through the guns before gathering around the barrels. He then fired off several rounds at once- many more than should have been possible for the size of his guns- and bullets tinted with a red aura whizzed through the air with the accuracy of laser-guided missiles. After hitting their intended targets, the bullets exploded and the red energy burned the shadows away to nothing at all before Panchito picked new targets and repeated the process.

Never one to be outdone by his companions, José leapt into the air to join the fray. He landed right in the middle of the group, splitting it in half to make Donald and Panchito’s jobs easier. With a smirk, he wielded his umbrella as if it were a sword and slashed at the shadows with the skill of a trained knight (technically he was, but that was a story for another time), his weapon of choice taking on a green glow that helped slice the enemy to pieces. He alternated between long slashes that hit several targets at once and piercing thrusts that skewered the shadows without a trace of resistance.

Once the main room was clear of the dark creatures, the caballeros’ attention was redirected to the small explosions and smashing sounds coming from upstairs. They tried to climb the stairs, but walls of flame blocked their path.

“Do not worry, meus amigos.” José said while stepping in front of them once again. He closed his eyes and the same dark energy as before began to swirl around his arms before channeling into his umbrella. He began to dance to a rhythm that only he could hear, moving in intricate sways and spins that formed a pattern as he spoke. “Para dissipar as chamas do mal. Que nenhum dano chegue às pessoas que amo. Guie-nos ao nosso destino ileso.” He repeated the words a few times, the dark energy concentrating on the tip of his umbrella as he spun. To finish his spell, José first tapped the umbrella to the ground as he did a quick spin and drew a circle around himself. Then, without needing to open his eyes to see where they were, he raised the umbrella and drew a large circle in the air around first Donald and then Panchito. The circles flashed briefly with the dark color before enveloping the three birds in a translucent aura of the same shade. Opening his eyes, José stepped into the fire to demonstrate how the flames retreated from his body. “No flames will be able to touch us now.”

The other two caballeros grinned confidently and stepped into the fire as well, having full trust in their green companion.

“Thanks, José!” Donald said as they resumed their hurried pace up the stairs towards the upper-level of the mansion.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Della! Uncle Scrooge!” He called out in a worried voice. He hoped they were okay! Someone strong enough to cause so much destruction and use black magic like that had to be someone REALLY dangerous. He already had a few possible enemies in mind-

“Donald!” He heard his sister call back to him from down the hall, followed by a loud crash.

“Della! Hold on!” Donald shouted while sprinting down the hall towards her voice.

He repeatedly begged in his mind for her and the boys to be okay. He swore, if there was even one feather out of place-!

“Donald! José! Sobre ti!” Panchito’s urgent tone of voice got Donald’s attention quick enough and he looked up just in time to see some sort of beast glaring down at them from the ceiling.

“What the-?!” Donald started, but the rest of his words turned into a startled squawk when the beast leapt down from its perch to attack them. “!!!!”

The trio dodged at the last minute, avoiding its landing and skidding a couple feet further away from it. When it landed, they finally got a good look at the creature: It was another shadowy being made of darkness, but much larger than the others. It was more like a gigantic animalistic monster with several constantly shifting limbs and eyes that would randomly open all along its body. To complete the horrifying visage, when a cluster of its eyes on the front of what may be considered its “head” looked at them, its “face” began to split apart as if it was ripping the shadowy surface of its “skin” apart until it opened wide enough to reveal a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth.

It bared its teeth with a snarl, the only warning it gave before charging at the group of startled birds.

Just like back downstairs, the green parrot leapt in front of his friends and raised his umbrella defensively. “Desaparecer, criatura da escuridão!” He yelled at the beast, the dark energy traveling down his arm and into the umbrella before bursting out to form a shield around them again. Unlike last time, however, the creature did not dissolve on impact with the barrier and, instead, it began beating it repeatedly with its large limbs. José winced slightly at the strain maintaining the barrier was putting on him. “An escape plan would be most appreciated right now!”

Donald took a quick look around the wide hallway, searching for anything they could use to defeat or at least hold off the monster long enough to escape. Then, he spotted it- the perfect weapon!

“Panchito!” He shouted to the rooster over the sounds of the beast’s roaring and the fire crackling around them. When he had the other man’s attention, he pointed at one of the decorative pillars along the walls. “Let’s bring the house down!”

Panchito grinned, understanding Donald’s plan perfectly. “Entiendo, but, remember- if your uncle asks, it was your idea!” He shot at the base and the top of the pillar repeatedly, José having caught on as well and opened a few holes in the barrier for him to aim through.

Once the pillar had enough cracks in it, Donald slipped out of the opening José made in their shield and took a flying leap at the column. Blue energy charging into his hands, he slammed his fist into the pillar, transferring some of the energy along the way, and sent it flying in the creature’s direction. It hit its target with a loud thud, the beast yelping as it was knocked over and, seemingly, unconscious for the moment.

Sighing in relief, José finally dropped the barrier, his arms feeling a bit stiff from the effort, but not too much worse for wear. “Brilliant work, meus amigos.” He spun his umbrella back around into a more comfortable grip and pointed it down the hall. “Now, we must hurry to Senhora Della!” The others nodded their agreement and started down the hall again.

Unfortunately, they didn’t get more than a few steps away when a rumbling sound filled the air. Panchito, being at the back of the group, looked up and noticed what was causing it. “¡Cuidado!” He shouted in an urgent tone and shoved the other two out of the way just in time.

Recovering from the shove after stumbling to the ground, José and Donald turned to see that the beast had split itself into several smaller versions of itself and some of them had crawled along the ceiling again. However, without the pillar supporting the area, it had begun to crumble.

Panchito had shoved José and Donald out of the way just in time to avoid the falling rubble from the ceiling, but it left him trapped on the other side with the creatures thanks to the steadily growing wall of debris.

“Panchito! Hold on!” Donald called out to his trapped friend as he readied a flurry of blows to try breaking the barrier of rubble between him and his dear friend.

“Don’t worry about me!” Panchito called back in reply before Donald could follow through on his actions. “I can handle these guys, no sweat!” They could hear the sound of his guns firing between sentences. “Just go! Get your sister and the boys out of here! I’ll catch up with you around the back or something!”

Donald frowned, feeling conflicted. He wanted to safe his sister and his nephews, but he also didn’t want to leave one of his beloved partners behind either! Darn it, why was this happening?!

“Donald.” José, ever the calm voice of reason among the three of them, put a reassuring hand on Donald’s shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. “Remember, meu querido, our Panchito is much stronger, and far more clever, than he appears. He can handle himself against such puny enemies.” He started to lightly pull Donald away from the wall of rubble, further enforcing the decision. “Besides, you should know that Panchito has never been one to break a promise before, sim?”

“Yeah..I know..” He finally relented, giving one last glance back at the debris blocking the sight of their loved one. José was right, as always- Panchito would be fine. For now, they had to help Della.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Della?” Donald called to his sister again when they reached her room, having to shoulder-bump the door open as it was blocked by some flaming wreckage. “Della?!” He called again, worried when he didn’t receive an answer right away. When he finally got the door open, he was horrified to see why. “DELLA!” He shouted as he ran to his sister’s side.

Della was lying on the floor, looking battered and bruised with her clothes badly frayed and torn in several places. She had apparently thrown herself over her crying babies to shield them when part of the ceiling fell down around them, a good portion of her lower body covered in the wreckage. Her arms were braced against the ground around the boys, her elbows locked to support her weight and shield them without crushing them. Despite the defensive stance, however, she did not look well- her gaze was unfocused, hazy, as if she was hardly even conscious at all.

Donald began moving the debris off of his sister. José assisted where he could by using his magic to levitate some of the smaller pieces out of the way while also keeping the flames from reaching any of them. Once most of the rubble was gone, Donald got a good look at Della’s lower half and understood exactly WHY she seemed so out of it.

“Minha nossa!” José gasped at the state of Della’s left leg. With a shake of his head, he regained his composure. There would be time to fix everything later. For now, they needed to stabilize her and prevent her injuries from getting worse. “Donald,” He spoke with a firm tone of voice that instantly got the duck’s attention. “I will do what I can for her. In the meantime, look after the boys.”

“……” Donald took a deep breath to get his emotions under control before he moved to do what was asked of him. “Got it…”

Though it was left unsaid between them, the quiet, desperate “Save her” was clearly felt between the pair as Donald gathered the crying boys into his arms and José prepared himself for the proper rituals and incantations he would need. It would not be an easy task, but it was necessary to make sure they all made it out of this mess alive.

None of them could bear to lose any member of their family tonight…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After José was finished, Della looked a lot better. She was still missing a leg- it had been too crushed to salvage, even with magic- but the wound was sealed through the use of an enchanted bandage (really just the sleeve of José’s jacket he’d ripped off and said a chant over to stop the bleeding and numb the pain) and her vitality had been restored, giving her the strength needed to wake up.

“Ugh, my head..” She grumbled as she finally sat up, placing a hand on it and running it through her hair. “Feels like some dropped a house on me..”

“You are not far off, senhora.” José said while helping her keep her balance once she was upright.

“José?” She asked while looking at him curiously. Then, with a startled gasp, she seemed to recall what happened and frantically tried to stand up. “The kids-!!” Unfortunately, she seemed unaware of her new handicap and inevitably lost her balance.

Thankfully, José had good reflexes and was able to catch her before she fell. “Calm yourself, senhora. Your little ones are safe.” He gestured to the corner of the room where Donald was still sitting with the kids, a half-smile on his face as he made eye contact with his twin.

Della let out a relieved sigh, clearly glad that her children were okay. “Thanks, guys.” With José’s help, she managed to stand up, leaning heavily against him to compensate for her missing limb. “We have to hurry- Uncle Scrooge is fighting her all by himself, but I don’t know how long he can-!”

She was interrupted by the wall facing the backyard suddenly exploding inward. José held onto her with one arm and dove towards Donald and the boys, summoning the barrier using his umbrella in the other hand to protect them all from the mixture of debris and dark magic.

Through the smoke and dust, they could see a female figure silhouetted by the moonlight. “This is your last chance, Scroogie!” The figure’s voice called down to the ground below, its back turned to them for the moment. “Give it to me now, or your family tree will receive some much needed pruning!”

As the smoke and dust cleared enough and José dropped the shield, they saw who exactly the figure was, and it did nothing to assuage Donald’s fears. It was a female duck with oddly colored green feathers, terrifying yellow eyes, bobbed dark hair, a black outfit with a cape, and a staff with a purple gem on the end of it.

“Magica de Spell!” Donald glared at the sorceress while standing protectively in front of Della and the kids.

He’d had a few run-ins with her before due to his relationship to Scrooge, and not a single one of them was ever pleasant.

“You keep away from them, y’ blasted shadow puppeteer!” Scrooge yelled back at her as he climbed up the side of the building to give chase and protect his niece and grand-nephews.

“Ha! Or what? You’ll try to hit me with that pitiful cane of yours again?” She asked with a mocking laugh. The laugh stopped abruptly, however, when a different black object was suddenly resting on her shoulder. “?!”

“Would you prefer an umbrella over a cane, bruxa?” José questioned, now standing directly behind her rather than guarding Donald and Della from across the room as he had been a moment ago.

“What?!” She flew away from him as quickly as she could, clearly unnerved by his proximity. “How did you-?!”

“You are not the only one well-versed in black magic.” The parrot cut her off as he twirled his umbrella around two fingers before catching it in his palm and pointing it at her like a sword. As he did this seemingly simple action, dark energy raced from his arm to the tip of the umbrella- a clear demonstration as well as a warning. “My name is José Carioca. While I am not normally one to raise a hand against a woman, I am inclined to make an exception for those who threaten my family.” The energy flared up, some of it even flashing in his eyes to show how his calm tone of voice masked a righteous fury deep within.

Magica eyed him warily through his introduction before she regained her previous arrogant-confidence. “Oho. How intriguing. She glided across the ground, stopping a few feet away from him with a challenging smirk. “I will admit, it’s been quite a while since I’ve been challenged in the dark arts. Do you truly think that YOU could provide me with some form of a challenge?”

José returned the smirk with one of his own, ready to spring into battle at any second. “Considering I have dealt with demons and gods? Sim. I believe the odds are in my favor.”

There was a tense moment in which neither one of them moved.

Then, as if a starting gun was fired, they sprang into action at the same time.

Magica attacked first, swinging her staff in a wide arc in José’s direction and firing a wide beam of dark energy. José responded in turn with a vertical slash using his umbrella, effectively cutting the malicious darkness in the middle before it reached him so that it struck the walls behind him harmlessly (he was careful to make sure he continued to stand between her and Donald’s group so they would be protected too).

The sorceress seemed mildly impressed by the caballero’s strength and attacked again, this time by pointing her staff at him and summoning a circle of dark flames lined with a purple energy around him that began to slowly close in around the parrot.

In response, José brought his arms up, waving the umbrella in a circular motion before bringing it up over his head so that it popped open above him in a flash of green. The movement created a strong wind that blew out the flames and sent some of the ash right into Magica’s face, temporarily blinding her.

Moving to counterattack while he had the chance, José did a quick spin on one leg and fired off a round of spherical blasts from the tip of his umbrella. Magica wiped the ash from her eyes and spotted the attack at the last moment. She managed to dodge them, but soon found out that they were following her.

“Hm, not bad. You know some basics.” She commented as she raised her staff. With a flick of her wrist, shadowy hands rose up from the ground and grabbed onto the spheres tightly before crushing them completely. “But I have been at this far longer, and I can certainly handle some mere bokor.”

“…‘Bokor’?” José repeated back to her, his voice, for once, taking on a much darker, icier tone.

“Oh boy..” Donald mumbled, carefully helping Della walk and carry the boys closer to the bedroom’s door. He looked like he was preparing to run out with them if necessary. “You shouldn’t‘ve said that..”

Magica, who had her attention piqued by the other duck’s words, glanced at him curiously. “What is that supposed to mea-?” She got her answer in the form of an empowered umbrella striking the side of her face. “?!!” The sorceress was sent flying a few feet away and nearly crashed into a wall, summoning a group of shadows to catch her at the last moment and set her down in a standing position in front of the wall.

“A ‘bokor’?” José repeated again, glaring at the master of shadows in a rarely-seen scowl. He was smaller than Magica by quite a bit, but, for some reason, the way he looked at her made her feel as if SHE was the one being looked down upon. “I am no mere ‘bokor’, senhora.” He practically spat the last word, the title sounding condescending rather than respectful as it usually would. The dark energy lined with green began to gather around every part of José’s body in earnest, making him look as if he was one with the darkness. “I am a Babalorixá!!” He shouted, rage clear in his tone.

Magica had no time to react, finding herself too startled by the sudden surge of power in the other green bird. Before she was even aware of what was happening, Magica felt something cold wrapping around her. Looking down, she discovered that what looked to be a chain made of various symbols she half-recognized had formed from somewhere within the wall behind her and begun wrapping around her from the legs up. The chain felt like it was made of iron, but it both froze and burned wherever it touched her body, possibly due to the symbols that formed it.

“What is this?!” She demanded to know as she struggled to escape the chains.

“The iron chains of Ogum, an ally to the brave warriors and soldiers who fight for those they cherish.” José answered while bringing his hand forward and touching it to her bound arm. “And the chaotic shadow of Exu, the one to bring death and punishment to those deserving of his divine justice.” When his hand made contact with her, the darkness around him grew until it was all she could see. From within the void he’d created around them, she could see two other sets of eyes watching her in addition to José’s own. “When you are on good terms with several gods and have helped to save their worlds,” His voice echoed through the darkness, as if it was growing further away from her. “They are usually happy to answer your call.”

Magica let out a scream within the void as the chains tightened around her and dragged her further into the darkness.

From outside the bubble of darkness that José had created, Donald and Della watched apprehensively, waiting to see what would unfold.

“Soooo..” Della began before swallowing down a lump in her throat. “That’s why you told Uncle Scrooge not to say anything about your boyfriend’s magic..?”

Donald nodded, keeping a hand on his sister’s back to steady her without taking his eyes off of the darkness his friend had summoned. “He takes it VERY seriously.”

It was something that Panchito and Donald had both come to understand about José in the years they’d known him. At first, he had admitted to them that he was a casual practitioner and observer of his family’s traditions and knew a little bit of black magic through prayers and rituals, but that he didn’t take it too seriously or use the magic that often. However, after starting their adventures with an actual living, breathing goddess, he had begun to wonder how many other gods were real and started to take up his family’s customs in earnest. His efforts were rewarded fairly quickly- especially after one particularly harrowing journey resulted in him getting to MEET the gods his family prayed to. After that, he studied magic much more seriously and began incorporating it into his fighting style until he was at his current level. Every time he saw it in action, Donald was left in awe at how strong his beloved truly was.

“Curse me kilt!” The startled Scottish exclamation drew Donald’s attention to the hole in the wall that Magica had entered through earlier. He saw his uncle, looking a bit roughed up but not too much worse for wear, climbing up into the room. He was keeping a cautious eye on the ball of darkness, walking sideways to avoid losing track of the malicious sphere while still moving closer to his niece and nephew. “Is that one Magica’s or..?” He didn’t need to finish his question for Donald to know the rest of it.

“No, it’s okay. José took care of her.” Donald answered with a shake of his head.

“Hmh..I see..good thing the boy’s on our side…” His uncle mumbled the last part, still not looking 100% convinced that it was safe to be around something so dangerous. He couldn’t help it- black magic like that just put him on edge, no matter whom the user may be or what its intent was.

After only a few moments more, the dark energy finally dissipated and the green parrot emerged, looking far calmer than he had a few minutes ago. He hooked his umbrella around his elbow and used his hand to dust off his jacket slightly (a futile effort, honestly, but a necessary one, nonetheless).

He looked over to the duck family with his usual charming smile and bowed his head, removing his hat in the process for full effect. “The bruxa shall not bother you ever again. The shadows and flames should vanish momentarily, as well.”

Donald let out a relieved sigh, finally relaxing a little. “Thanks, Jo.” He was really glad that was over so quickly. Things could have gotten a lot worse than they had. Sure, what happened to Della’s leg was terrible, but there were plenty of ways to live without it and- And something just moved. “Huh?” Donald’s eyes snapped to the floor instantly and he saw the movement again, something dark squirming within José’s shadow. It began to rise up, moving within the green bird’s blind spot. “José! Look out!!”

Donald felt the world moving in slow motion around him in that moment: He tossed his sister and her kids to Scrooge for safety before trying to run towards his partner. He saw José start to turn and look behind himself the moment Donald’s warning reached his ears. He watched the shadow lurking behind José rise up and form a familiar silhouette before solidifying with a smirk. He felt his heart nearly stop when the sorceress, fully reformed now, took her staff and fired a purple bolt of magic that plunged straight through his beloved’s chest. He let out a cry of anger and desperation when he saw José’s legs cave and the strong, clever, brilliant man fall to his knees.

Time finally resumed properly when Donald launched himself at the laughing sorceress with a charged fist of blue energy, but she dodged out of the way at the last minute and floated out of his reach while sitting on her staff as if it were a broom.

“H…How…?” José rasped out, Donald ignoring her in favor of checking on his companion. He didn’t look good- the purple energy she shot into his chest was still there, forming an odd rune that seemed to be leaving José in a weakened state. “E-Exu..passed judgement on you..I felt it..!” Even getting out that much seemed difficult for him at the moment.

Magica smirked down at the pair on the floor below her, reveling in her own cleverness and small victory. “Indeed he did. I will give credit where it is due- you certainly caught me by surprise. One wrong move and I would have been finished for good.” Her smirk grew, a condescending laugh making her shoulders shake slightly. “But, really now, did you expect the Mistress of Darkness to be incapable of something as basic as a shadow clone?” She demonstrated this ability with a snap of her fingers, her own shadow transforming into a perfect duplicate of herself. “I simply switched places with it before I hit the wall. Not bad, hm?”

“Oh, not bad at all.” Her shadow replied with a matching smirk. “You are quite brilliant, Magica.”

“Why thank you, Magica.” She said back to her shadow and both shared a brief laugh before her shadow returned to its original state. “Now then,” She began while floating over to where Scrooge was standing with Della, holding out her hand expectantly. “You know what I want, Scroogie. Hand it over and I MIGHT let your family walk away- if I’m feeling generous, that is.” Her eyes narrowed in warning, one hand resting on her staff in preparation for an attack. “But don’t hold your breath.”

Scrooge stood protectively in front of Della and the boys. “I already told y’, y’ deaf harpy- I cannot give y’ what I don’ have!”

“Ha!” Magica scoffed and landed on the ground, pointing her staff at him threateningly. “That has got to be the worst bluff I’ve heard in my life! You would never let something so precious out of your sight!” Magical energy began to charge into the staff, the gem on the end glowing. “Fine, then. Have it your way. I’ll just pull it from your ashes!” Her face split in a maniacal smirk as the glow grew brighter, her attack nearing completion.

While the altercation between Scrooge and Magica was going on a few feet away, Donald prepared to rush at the sorceress and try punching her again. If he could just in close enough-!

“Donald..meu querido..” José’s calm but strained voice cut through his frantic thoughts as it always did when he was agitated. He looked down at the shorter caballero as he managed to stand up. “You need to get Della and the boys to safety. She cannot fight in her condition..and we both know that Magica is not above using the boys as hostages, given the chance.” He looked up at Donald with a serious expression on his face. “I have an idea..but you may not like it.” He looked pointedly across the room at something behind Della and Scrooge.

Donald followed his gaze to a series of paintings that had been knocked off of the wall or were barely hanging on. Many of them were burnt or damaged, but, behind Della, there was one that was still completely intact- a picture of the harbor that the three of them had been resting at not long ago.

“!!” Donald’s eyes widened briefly as he fully understood José’s plan. He shook his head vigorously and looked back to the parrot with a stern frown. “No way! I’m not gonna leave you!”

“It will not be for long.” José tried to reassure him. “Just long enough to get Della and her meninos to safety. I will leave it open for you to come right back and then we will finish her together. Agreed?” He held his hand out to Donald, making the agreement a promise- something that neither would ever break.

Donald stared at his hand for a brief moment before grasping it firmly. “Fine. Just don’t die on me, got it?”

“You as well, meu amado.” José said with one last squeeze to Donald’s hand before letting go.

The pair turned their attention back to Magica and the others just in time to see her charging her staff for a devastating attack. With no time left to think it over or come up with a different plan, Donald sprinted into action.

Blue energy gathered around him as he slammed into Magica. The force of it managed to send the shadow-mancer skidding away and caused her spell to misfire and disintegrate part of the ceiling. “What?!!”

Donald, still running, grabbed his uncle’s arm in one hand and picked up Della and the kids with the other. Without explaining what he was doing, Donald ran directly at the painting that was just barely hanging on the wall. “Hold on!”

Across the room, José gathered what little strength he had left and channeled it into his hands. “Por favor..trabalhe..!” Once he had as much as he could spare, he thrust his opened palms in the direction of the painting, sending sparkling lines straight at the picture.

The moment the odd sparkling energy made contact with the canvas, it seemed to change- rippling as if it were made of water. And, indeed, that seemed to almost be the case, because Donald reached his destination a fraction of a second after the change occurred and jumped straight into the once solid material with his family as easily as jumping into a swimming pool.

Seeing what happened, Magica let out an enraged shriek. “NO!” She tried to follow them, but a series of glowing iron bars formed a cage around the painting, barring her from entry.

“My apologies, senhora.” The accented voice called across the room with a calm (if slightly mocking and strained) tone. She turned her head to see the Brazilian parrot sitting back down to conserve his strength. He reached into his tattered jacket and pulled out a cigar box. “I am afraid I cannot let you follow them.” Calm as could be, José opened the box, pulled out a cigar, somehow cut off the end with his fingertips alone, and held it up to a nearby flame that was flickering only a few inches away from him to light it. “Donald will return em um momento..but, you will not be allowed to go after his family anymore.” He brought the cigar to his beak once it was hot enough and took a drag.

Magica glared as she stalked over to him, looming over the infuriatingly calm bird below her. “Do you intend to fight me alone until he returns? I could easily kill you in this state.”

José’s response was to calmly blow out a few smoke rings, not caring if they hit her in the face or not. “I am aware of this, and, no, I do not wish to face you. I know it would be suicide and, while I no longer fear death, I do not invite it, either. However..” He paused to take another drag of his cigar and blow out another ring of smoke. “I would advise against killing me if you value your life.”

“Oh?” Magica asked while crossing her arms. “And why, pray tell, is that? From what I’ve seen through my own eyes, as well as my minions’, you seemed to be the biggest threat. What chance would that puny duck or that trigger-happy chicken have against me?”

José smirked a bit, holding the cigar away from his mouth between two fingers. “You seem like a well-educated sorceress, senhora. Tell me…have you perhaps heard the legend of ‘The Three Caballeros’?”

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “The warriors who defeated the damned demon-sorcerer Felldrake? What of them?” Then, it clicked for her, and her eyes widened in mild surprise. “You..?”

“Indeed.” José confirmed her suspicions while tapping the ashes off of his cigar. “We are warriors of legend, linked by blood and bonded through magic. If one of us is in mortal peril, the other two are by his side in an instant. Together we have defeated gods and demons capable of bending reality itself to their wishes.” He brought the cigar to his beak once more, simply allowing it to rest in the corner as he spoke. “As I said, attempting to end my life would not end favorably for you, senhora- the other two caballeros would be here faster than you could blink and the resulting battle would most assuredly end in your defeat.” He smirked up at her. “So, strike me if you dare, bruxa.”

“Hm..I see..” Magica muttered thoughtfully with one hand coming up to rest under her beak, tapping her chin as she weighed her options. “I had no idea you three stooges were such legendary heroes..” She dropped her hand. “Fine. I won’t kill you.”

José prepared to take another drag from his cigar. “Glad to see you are capable of reason, senho-”

“But..” Magica interrupted him and José looked up to see that maniacal smirk back on her face once more. “There are some things worse than death.”

She pointed her staff at the rune she’d left on José’s chest earlier and the stone began to glow. The parrot could only stare with wide eyes as she cast her spell…

<-Previous Chapter Next Chapter->

End Notes: So, just wanted to interject a little background regarding José’s magic for this story. I really liked the idea of José practicing candomblé, which is a traditional religion practiced in a few different countries, but most notably in Brazil. I liked this because 1.) The rituals and dances are always amazing to observe in person and they just felt like the right sort of energy for José. And 2.) When I was younger, one of my best friends that lived down the street from me was actually from Brazil and his family practiced candomblé.

In fact, I based the whole scene with José getting mad at Magica on something that happened with my friend’s mother (my friend had Donald’s reaction in that scenario xD): One time someone called her a caplata and it Pissed. Her. OFF. For those who don’t know, a caplata/bokor is a position more closely related to voodoo than candomblé- it’s used to refer to those who practice the darker sides of voodoo along with the better sides but more people focus on the negative aspects of it (it’s one of those titles that’s supposed to mean neutral but, due to bad history involving people being turned into “zombies”, it’s often seen as a negative thing to be called that unless you openly state you are one first).

Anyway, little me at the time hardly knew what religion was because I was raised in a non-religious but still superstitious house, so, while I didn’t always understand the terms or prayers, I understood that there were good and bad things to call people who practiced candomblé. When I was around 13 and had a better understanding on different religions and cultures, I asked her why it made her so mad (she was really nice and always answered my questions about her culture since I was genuinely curious, plus she was pretty much my pseudo-auntie by then so I was over at her house half the time, anyway).

She told me that it was a combination of being called something from a different faith (kinda like confusing Catholics and Christians sort of- same base, but different practices) AND being accused of consorting with dark spirits/gods. Looking back on it, she admitted that hitting the guy who called her that in the side of the head with her handbag was a bit excessive and she got embarrassed over it, but she also told me that what REALLY made her mad was the indirect accusation that the gods she prayed to were dark or evil. She (and everyone else in her family, for that matter) felt that the gods they prayed to (predominantly Exu and Ogum, depending on which side of the family you talked with, another influence I took for José’s magic) were kind ones who helped keep their loved ones safe and looked after them in times of need.

Sorry for the rambling, just felt like sharing. Here are the translation notes:

Sonhos agradáveis, - Pleasant dreams,

Buenas noches - Goodnight

Sim eu também. - Yeah, me too.

“¡Igual que aquí!” - "Same here!"

“Vá embora, espíritos das trevas!” - "Begone, spirits of darkness!"

Para dissipar as chamas do mal. Que nenhum dano chegue às pessoas que amo. Guie-nos ao nosso destino ileso. - Dispel the flames of evil. May no harm befall the people I love. Guide us to our destination unharmed.

Sobre ti! - Above you!

Desaparecer, criatura da escuridão! - Disappear, creature of darkness!

Entiendo - I get it

“¡Cuidado!” - "Watch out!"

“Minha nossa!” - "Oh my!"

bruxa - witch

meninos - boys

“Por favor..trabalhe..!” - "Please..work ..!"

#the three gay caballeros #three cabarellos #the three caballeros #three gay caballeros #three gay cabarellos #donald duck #panchito pistoles #jose carioca #donald/panchito/jose #ducktales #legend of the three caballeros #scrooge mcduck #della duck #magica de spell #The Third Caballero #Anastasia!AU

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crazysimmingfan · 6 years

Photo

Hooray! All decorated and ready to use, and so we’re going to have a quick house tour because I’m damned proud of this building!

Starting with the first floor - and a nice overview of it!

Then a view of the side yard. There’s plenty of garden plots for the eventual crops Blue and Papyrus are likely to plant (and possibly other house members will pitch in with off and on), to have fresh herbs, fruits, and vegetables. It’ll be fun to test out the more in-depth farming system with them!

That big thing in the front of the screenshot is a rotating climbing wall, which I figured would be a GREAT way for Blue, Papyrus, Black, and Edge to work out. Sure, they could just go jogging . . but the higher levels of the Top Hitz Climbing Wall involve fire. Definitely a worthy challenge!

The little teal box near the planter beds is a bee box! There’s going to be fresh honey for the household, and Stretch had better be prepared to be the primary beekeeper if he wants to benefit from this.

Then there’s the front porch, the barbecue, and Sans’ gnome collection. They’re tucked under the planter boxes because I’m sure Edge and possibly Papyrus would do something to them if he noticed them regularly. I added a nice bench for sitting on, one that has outdoor fabric on the pillows. Should be nice and comfy and perfect for napping.

(What Sans doesn’t know is that in this world, Gnomes roam)

(One of those gnomes is naked except for the censor grid box around his pelvis/waist)

(another is a ghost)

(And another is the Gnome Reaper)

This closet is to the left of the inside of the main door. It’s not entirely functional for sims, but it’s a nice storage spot for the holiday decorations and the household coats.

Very soon there will be Christmas lights all over.

From the living room, you can see the front door and the mix of decorative baskets and shelves on the wall opposite the front door. It’s a simple area, but leads nicely into the living room and the stairs that go up to the next floor.

Yeah, that’s a bunch of old signs and paintings under the stairs as well as other clutter. The guys didn’t know where to put all that stuff, and weren’t ready to just chuck it. At least there it’s out of the way.

That white thing next to the front door is a leash rack. Black and Edge are nowhere as subtle as they think they are sometimes.

Great big fish tank! I can easily see the mellow skeles taking some fishing trips as a way to unwind. Might as well give them a way to show off their catches.

The living room is pretty simple - easy for lounging in and watching the TV (which is a very high quality one). I probably could have shoved another couch in there, but this arrangement works and at most I might add another coffee table for putting mail on.

Big wall art provided courtesy of Rapture.

The kitchen was so much fun to design! A family lodge needs lots of counter space, and this seemed a really nice way to do it! This layout even allows for a coffee/tea station without interfering much with the flow of the room. The colors may not be what was in mind . . but the tile just looked so nice in the space and I took the colors in it and ran with the design.

I included a microwave for the lazybones to be able to nuke chikkin nuggets.

The dining room! A nice room, if a bit mis-matched furniture wise. You can also see the coffee/tea station on the counter to the right of the doorway.

Figured Papyrus or Blue - or both! - made an effort to co-ordinate the furniture a little by painting all the chairs white. It looks nice, I think!

The gaming room sees a lot of use, and with Blue on patrol, stays relatively clean. There’s still that pile of hoodies/shirts/socks that manages to stay despite his efforts tho.

The thing in the lower right is a Foosball table. Might be a nice way for the more energetic skeles to burn off some steam.

There’s no carpeting/rugs in here to make it easier to vacuum.

Two dryers, two washers in the laundry room. A household this big makes a lot of laundry, and if any spawnlings happen it’ll just get even messier! Thankfully there’s plenty of space to make folding and dealing with it easier.

#Sims house tour #SSLL Sims #SSLL #By Tyrantortoise

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the-magnus-archives-archiver · 6 years

Text

Arachnophobia

Case: 0150409

Name: Carlos Vittery Subject: His arachnophobia and its manifestation Date: April 9th, 2015 Recorded by: Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London

I hate spiders. I know, I know, everyone hates spiders. Any time there’s any list of the top however many fears, they’re always up there, and whole horror franchises have been built on the basic premise that people hate spiders. But not like me. Not like this. It’s not the sight of a spider that gets me, not the legs or the eyes or even the webs they leave behind with only the drained corpse of their insect victims still inside. It’s the presence of a spider. The knowledge of its being, somewhere near, waiting to crawl on you, and all the warning you get that gentle tickle of its legs as it climbs upon you.

I’m not explaining myself very well. Let me try and phrase it in a different way: I can watch any number of films about the things. Documentary or horror, it doesn’t matter. I can read books on them. I can stare at close-up pictures of their weird spider faces all day long, and there’s hardly a shudder from me. But I had to move from my last house after discovering how many spiders made a home in my garden. I walked out there one day with the intention of smoking a cigarette, sat on the rusty garden furniture that had come with the place, and looked up. There it was – stretched between two large branches, silhouetted against the sky it sat. Objectively speaking the thing was tiny, couldn’t have been more than half an inch leg-to-leg, but up there, suspended high above me, its body black against the slate grey sky, it filled me with a sickening dread. I leapt up, and started to head back inside, but as I did my eyes flicked wildly around the rest of the garden, and everywhere they came to rest I saw more lurking spiders, more webs. There were dozens that I could see, which meant there must be hundreds more I could not.

There was no way I could live there after that. How could I sleep knowing how many crawling horrors moved and twitched and spun their filth just a wall away? I’m not a fool; I know that all gardens contain spiders. Every single one is filled with them, nestled in any crevice or hiding spot they can find. But now I knew. I had seen them in their spindly multitudes and I could not unknown how many were there. And I could not stop thinking of when winter would come, and they would seek to find a way into the warmth of my home. So I had to move.

Renting in London moves very quickly, which is a pain if you’re looking to find exactly the right place to live, but if you just need to get out and into a place as far away from a garden as possible and you aren’t choosy, it can be sorted out very fast indeed. I found a place in Boothby Road in Archway. While nearby Elthorne Road was full of houses and gardens – no doubt infested with spiders – my building was surrounded by concrete driveways and parking spaces, and the only vegetation were a few window boxes the other residents kept. The place was old, but had been kept clean enough that I didn’t need to worry about hidden webs, and the rooms, though small, were open enough that I could keep an eye on all corners. I was on the second floor, so any eight-legged intruder would have something of a climb to access it; although I was acutely aware of the distance a spider can shoot its web when it wants to get somewhere. The building was also quite happy with pets, so I got a cat. I had heard from a friend who had a pair of them that they have a habit of catching spiders and eating them – slowly and torturously. This sounded good to me, so I invested in an older tabby, from a local shelter called Major Tom.

This is all a lot of superfluous information, I know, but you have to understand the lengths I went to; how little I would tolerate a spider to live in my presence, to fully grasp how unnatural it was, what happened to me. What still is happening to me.

I saw a spider about three months ago. Not unusual. Certainly not as unusual as I would like – even with all my precautions they still manage to get into my home once a month or so. My normal course of action is to immediately flee the room and leave Major Tom inside to deal with it, returning after a few hours. In all previous cases this had worked fine – I believe Major Tom definitely ate the majority of them, and those spiders that had simply fled back into the shadows, well, I can trick myself into believing they also suffered such a fate. It may be that my grey feline companion never actually ate any of them, but he was a fine enough placebo that such a thought didn’t concern me as much as it might.

I remember that month there had been a few of them. Our building had acquired something of an infestation of some sort of insect I didn’t recognise – small, silvery worms, almost like maggots but slightly longer – and I assume that they provided a good meal for the eight-legged little monsters.

This spider was different. I felt it the moment I laid eyes on the thing, standing in the middle of kitchen wall, displaying itself boldly, as though it wanted to be as visible as possible. I felt that familiar rushing fear, as though the floor had dropped away and a thousand tiny legs are crawling upon every inch of my skin. But there was something else there. I was aware of this spider in a way I had never had been of others that preceded it. It wasn’t the biggest, maybe an inch wide, but its abdomen was swelled grotesquely. I could feel every one of its void-black eyes focused upon me, see each hair on its fat, bulbous body, and smell the venom I knew dripped from its fangs. I hate spiders, as I have said, but I would have sworn that this one hated me back.

None of this was enough to make me think twice about gingerly pushing Major Tom towards the thing with my foot and fleeing the room. I made my way into the living room and closed the door behind me, leaving cat and spider to deal with each other. I sat there, watching the TV, some panel show re-run, trying not to think about the thing on my kitchen wall. An hour passed, then two, and finally I felt like I had enough stability of mind to open the door and confirm that the damned arachnid was gone.

The moment I opened the door I felt something furry brush against my leg. Choking down a sudden moment of panic, I looked and, sure enough, there was Major Tom, hurrying out of the room at a run. He didn’t seem hurt or upset, so I assumed his job was done. Then I turned back to my kitchen, and froze. The spider sat in that same spot. It wasn’t eaten, it hadn’t fled, from what I could tell it hadn’t even moved! The only way I was sure the thing was real and alive was that I swear to you I could see its mandibles twitching with anticipation. I stood there, unable to summon the will to close the kitchen door or enter into it fully and cursed Major Tom for a useless bag of fur.

It was another hour before I was finally able to move. The whole time I stood motionless in the doorway, watching the fat spider that paraded itself on my wall. Still it remained in place, and I couldn’t help but feel that it was daring me to do something, to take action, to kill it. I began to move. Slowly, ever so slowly, I approached it, reaching a hand over the table and taking the half-drunk mug of coffee, now long cold, in my hand. I gripped the handle so tight I was sure it would snap off in my fingers. Finally, I stood before the spider, preparing myself to calmly crush it against the wall. Then it moved without warning and I hurled the mug against the wall with all my might.

It hit the spider dead on and exploded in a shower of coffee and china. I stood there for a minute, breathing hard, but all that remained was a large stain on the wall and mug shards littering the floor. I should have cleaned it up immediately, but I was so tired, as though killing the spider had taken every ounce of wakefulness that I had within me. I simply turned around and went to bed. My dreams that night were many-legged but there’s not much unusual in that.

I spent the next morning cleaning up the detritus from my battle with the spider. I wished that I had gotten the coffee cleaned before it had dried, but by lunchtime the place was looking very much as it had before. As I swept up the smashed mug, I noticed that the largest shard, emblazoned with the design of a stylized blue owl, had a vivid smear on it. Brown, red and green were crushed onto it where it had hit the spider. It disgusted me, but looking at it I couldn’t help but feel a small surge of triumph, and I smiled as I threw it into the garbage bag. Major Tom watched, impassive as always.

The next few days passed without incident. Major Tom had never been much of an indoor cat, so I had installed a cat flap some time before to allow him to come and go as he pleased. After that first encounter he seemed to spend more time outside, and I saw him less and less as the week progressed. I didn’t think much of it; we’d had a particularly mild Christmas, so it made sense that he’d be enjoying the outside as much as possible before winter really set in.

It was the Friday after my first encounter that it happened. I came in from work, tired after a difficult week – I used to work as a data analyst at an online betting company – and decided to order takeout and relax in front of some TV. I eased myself back into my armchair and reached for the remote. I was aware that Major Tom wasn’t anywhere to be seen, which was odd, since he usually got fed shortly after I arrived home and he was never one to miss a meal. Still, I didn’t think of it, and turned on the television. I hadn’t turned the satellite box, so what showed at first was an empty blue screen. I reached to the other remote to turn it on, when I realised the blue screen wasn’t empty. There, sat upon it, black against the glowing background, was a spider. And not just any spider, but I swear to you, and here’s where you march me out of your little institute as a time-wasting lunatic, but I swear that it was the same damn spider.

It was the same size, the same shape, the same thick, pulsing abdomen. But more than that, I felt it. I felt it in that fear that hit me like I had been punched in the stomach, and I felt it in the way that the thing just sat there, unmoving, waiting for me to kill it again. I was stuck to my chair, just watching this spider as it stood there on the screen of my television. I called for Major Tom, but there was no response.

God knows how long I sat staring at the spider on my television. I don’t wear a watch, and I couldn’t move my arm to check my phone. If I hadn’t been sat down I would have run already, but standing up was more movement than I could bring myself to make while it watched me.

Finally, I got to my feet. It was less effort than I expected when I finally mustered the will to do it. Although that’s not really how it felt at the time – at that point it felt almost involuntary, as though some something were lifting me, hoisting me to my feet by unseen strings. I began to walk, but rather than fleeing the spider I found I moved towards it, until I stopped there, so close I could have touched it, though my mind recoils at the thought. Before I realised exactly what I was doing I lifted my leg, and kicked the television, instantly crushing the bulbous spider beneath the heel of my shoe, and now I think about it, narrowly avoiding a nasty electrocution. I had had no inkling I was capable of such a thing, but once again the spider was dead, and I had a slimy stain on my shoe.

I threw the shattered remains of the television away, burned the shoe and tried, desperately to return to something approaching my normal life, but it was no good. The spider that I had killed had come back, of that I had no doubt, and a deep paranoia began to set in as I waited for it to return again. I saw Major Tom only once in the weeks that followed. He came in, sniffed at the bowl of food I had continued to put out for him in the vain hope of luring him back, and turned around and walked away. As he left he gave me a look that I could have sworn was one of pity.

I called in sick to my job, as I wasn’t really sleeping and so much of the time was spent checking nooks and corners for the spider, that I was a nervous wreck. More than once I did find spiders, but they weren’t the one who was after me, so I killed them without a second thought. My life descended into the mess that it, well, it still remains today.

I was right, though. Two weeks after I kicked it to death on my TV, there it was. Over my bed. Standing on the wall over the spot where my head lay each night as I tried in vain to sleep. It was that damned spider. And I recognised it. My bedroom is better lit than the kitchen, and it wasn’t silhouetted against a screen, so for the first time I got a really good look at my tormentor, and I realised that I had seen it before the kitchen.

I was not born with a fear of spiders. In fact for the first six years of my life I can only assume I existed in peaceful harmony with them. But that changed in the autumn of 1991. I didn’t live in London then but with my parents in Southampton, and we would visit my grandparents every Sunday, out in the nearby New Forest. They lived on the edge of a suburb, and from the bottom of my grandmother’s garden you could see fields stretching away for a half a mile to the tree line. I used to spend a lot of time down there, and if you were lucky, sometimes there would be horses.

That day, there were no horses, just an overcast sky and wind that threatened to blow off my blue woollen hat. I was wandering through the scattered trees by the fence I wasn’t allowed to cross, and I noticed a fallen log. I had seen it before, of course, as there was little in that place that changed much between my weekly visits, but there was something different about it. In one of the hollows sat something that I did not recognise. It was a pale brown, and looked soft and lumpy, like a small sack. Knowing no better I approached it, and saw, perched on its top, a small spider. It watched me, warily, its fat abdomen twitching, but it did not move.

In my childish ignorance, I thought it looked silly, and I reached over for it. But I tripped. My hand hit the spider, killing it instantly, and plunging into the egg sack below, causing it to tear open and explode. I was suddenly covered in thousands of small, white crawling things, those tiny, dripping, half-formed and unfinished spiders. They covered my hands, my face... my eyes.

I can never forget that feeling, and since then the presence of spiders has filled me with the deepest dread. And that was the spider that sat before me on my bedroom wall. Though I remembered little of what the long-dead thing had looked like I knew it was the same. Can you be haunted by the ghost of a spider that destroyed your childhood? It sounds absurd. It sounds laughable. But there it was. I didn’t know why it was here. And I didn’t know why I was reaching for it. My mind screamed to stop, and I let out a terrible cry, but my hand kept moving towards it inexorably, as though willed by something else. This ghost spider felt real enough when I crushed it beneath my palm, legs splayed and body bursting warmly against my skin. Once I had control of my limb once again, I spent the rest of the night washing my hand.

I am moving out of that building. I officially gave Major Tom’s paperwork to the family on the ground floor he decided to move in with, and will be leaving the moment I find somewhere, anywhere, available for immediate rental. I can’t risk seeing the thing again. I’m also seeing doctors, trying to get a referral for psychiatric treatment or possibly some antipsychotic medication, but I felt I should probably give you a statement as well. I don’t expect you to believe me, but if “ghost spiders” falls under anyone’s remit, I suppose it’s yours.

Archivist Notes:

I think the most important lines in this statement come at the very end. Antipsychotic medication and disbelief are, I think, exactly what Mr. Vittery needed to get through his problem with, er, “ghost spiders”. There simply aren’t enough details given in this statement to actually investigate, short of Martin confirming that Mr. Vittery did indeed live at the addresses he provided.

I would have asked Tim to follow up with Mr. Vittery himself, but he appears to have passed away shortly after giving his statement. He was found in his Boothby Road residence, after neighbours complained of the smell, and had apparently been dead for over a week. Coroner’s report lists asphyxiation as the cause of death, probably due to choking, though it doesn’t say what he choked on, simply lists “foreign organic material” blocking his throat.

If I were of a more alarmist nature I might think the appearance of Mr. Vittery’s corpse lent some credibility to his tale. But as I told Martin earlier, he was there for over a week, so there is very likely a perfectly natural explanation for the fact that his body was completely encased in web.

Source: Official Transcript and Podcast (MAG 16 Arachnophobia)

#the magnus archives #magnus archives #MAG #MAG16 #MAG 16 #Arachnophobia #Statement #The Web #Spiders

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ltdedngallery-blog · 6 years

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THE BIG INTERVIEW / AUDREY KAWASAKI

(First Published

AUDREY KAWASAKI HAS HAD AN ACTION PACKED FEW MONTHS – HER SOCIAL MEDIA PAGES HAVE BEEN PACKED WITH AMAZING PHOTOS FROM HER RECENT SHOW AT THE MERRY KARNOSKY GALLERY (ALONGSIDE TARA MCPHERSON AND DEEDEE CHERIEL), THERE ARE ALSO THE OBLIGATORY PHOTOS OF BEAUTIFUL FOOD AND DRINKS, BUT HOLD ON! AMONGST HER BEAUTIFUL ARTWORK THERE ARE ALSO A NUMBER OF PHOTOS OF… WAIT FOR IT… NORWICH.

IN THE UK, NORWICH, UNFAIRLY PERHAPS, HAS SOMEWHAT OF LESS THAN GLAMOROUS REPUTATION. IT COULDN’T BE MORE DIFFERENT THAN AUDREY’S HOME CITY OF LOS ANGELES. SO WE HAD TO FIND OUT JUST EXACTLY WHAT AUDREY HAD BEEN DOING IN THE WET AND WILD FLATLANDS OF NORFOLK?

LTD/EDN: Hi Audrey, let’s cut to the chase, Norwich? Norfolk? What is going on?

Audrey: My fiance lives there!

Fiance? Wow, congratulations, that’s lovely news and explains a lot! So will we see a lot more of you in the UK? We’re not expecting Norwich to be the home to your next solo show, but how do you like Norwich, Norfolk and the UK?

I’ve visited Norwich a total of three times this year (with a fourth on the way), and spend a good amount of it exploring the surrounding Norfolk areas. I fell in love pretty much at first sight. Soooo unlike where I grew up in LA. Its’ like a fairy tale world really, with its history and old building and cobble stone streets, so much character. I was worried the cold and cloudy skies would be tough for me, but when walking through the city, you realize its very fitting, and all a part of the beauty of the landscape.

What are your favourite Norfolk hotspots? Have you tried a Full English breakfast? And what about the Great British pint at a Great British pub? A fan?

Yes! my first full English Breakfast was at this little place called House. it was amazing! You don’t hear people rave about English foods, but actually food standards are so much better/higher there. Fresh ingredients, even fast food places tasted and felt much better than American ones. Pub food is great. I’m not much of a beer drinker (more of a wine and cocktail drinker), but love the meat pies, fish and chips, bangers and mash. Indian food is also excellent there! I also love how cafes and coffee houses often have delicious sandwiches ready to go. The bread and cheese there is so yummy. Oh! and seafood! Cromer crabs! prawns! every other day I’ll get one of those seafood cups from street vendor/markets.

One thing Norfolk is famous for are turkeys! Will it be turkey for Christmas this year? Where will you be for the holidays? Any Holiday traditions?

I don’t do turkey much, but I did meet a Norfolk Black Turkey. he was magnificent. The low rumbly noise they make! This Christmas, hopefully I will be in Norwich with Rob, my fiance. It’ll be our first Christmas together. I’m very excited to experience the winter holidays in a cold place, looking forward to the cozy warmness, next to a fire place, with yummy hot foods and drinks.

This time last year we released your now sold out Limited Edition silk scarf ‘Under the Full Moon’, it found it’s way under a lot of Christmas trees! Is there anything you are hoping will be under your tree this Christmas?

Um. can’t thinking of anything in particular.

Can you remember what was your favourite Christmas gift when you were a child? Or the gift you always hoped for?

It must have been the Super Nintendo. My little brother and I were all about it. Mario, Donkey-Kong, Sim-Ant, Mario Paint.

So aside from getting engaged and your new found love of Norfolk, do you have any other revelations that might surprise us?

I can be a video game geek sometimes and my favorite book/audiobook setting is post-apocalyptic.

Video games? What type of games do you play? What are your all time favourite games?

I like RPG’s and first person shooter adventure games, with a strong story line. ‘Fallout 3’ can quite possible be my favorite, as of now. but then again, ‘Last of Us’ and ‘Dishonored’ were really good too. I also love city building simulation, building, managing, and growing.

And what post-apocalyptic books should we be checking out?

Hmmm, I’ve gone through so many, mostly audiobooks when working. I can’t really recall a specific one though..

Most sane people fully acknowledge that one day the Zombie apocalypse will be upon us, how will you cope? How are your survival skills?

In my head I’m a tough bad ass!! but in reality probably not so much…

I could never get sick of mysteries, ghost stories, and strange and creepy things.

So Halloween must a favourite holiday then? We loved your Boardwalk Empire costumes in 2013. What was your costume this year?

I was Ramen Noodles! hand made, hand sewn with felt. I think making crafty things may be one of my favorite past times. (oh i love cooking too!)

Lastly one question about your work! What’s up next? Anything you are really excited about?

No big solo shows this year, a few group shows scheduled for next year, and I will be curating a fun show in the summer at Giant Robot. I’m putting together a book of my works, hopefully that will be ready at some point.

Also, possibly attempting at my first mural painting!

Wow! Where is this lucky wall? Please say Norwich…

There’s a few talks here and there. will keep you posted, but no, not Norwich. I need to do a solo show in the UK though someday.

We need that too! Thank you Audrey and Happy Holidays!

#art #artists on tumblr #audrey kawasaki #interview #gallery #limitededition

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babylon-bitch · 7 years

Text

Just Friends ~ It's Hard To Stop (part 66)

Harper White is best friends with Luke Hemmings, they always have been. Not only is she friends with the rockstar, but with the rest of 5 Seconds Of Summer, as well as a really nice girl named Erika.

Harper has a few secrets, she can play all the instruments the boys play and many more. It’s a talent she has kept hidden, only very few people know.

What will happen to the six teens, wondering around the world together?

***

Luke’s p.o.v.

The sunlight streaming through the window and onto my face wakes me up, and I take in my surroundings – a familiar room I used to wake up a lot in.

Good times.

An even more familiar person my arms are wrapped around and is pressed up against my body. Her hair a little messy that’s going to be a bitch to brush out the knots, her hand holding mine, and her eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks.

I push some hair out of her face, and trace some random shapes on the part of skin that her shirt had ridden up.

Originally we went to bed on opposite sides of the bed, facing each other, but apparently at some point during the night we managed to find each other and cuddle up together, and I’m not complaining.

Harper shifts a little and rolls onto her back, letting out a groan then drifts back to sleep again. I remove my hand from her waist, and pick my phone up, checking the time: 8:45. I trace random shapes on her collarbone area, as I scroll through my phone.

It’s moments like this I miss from our relationship.

Those insignificant ones that you don’t talk about, but once it’s over you miss them and they’re taken for granted. You never know the significance of a moment once it’s over. I’ve found myself thinking that a lot this past year.

I miss her, I do, but I’m not going to risk losing her just so I can love her without it being a secret. I’ve just gotten her back and I’ll do anything to not lose her, I don’t think I can handle going through that again. She’s knows I still love her romantically, and I know that she still loves me, but we agreed to just be friends. I’m more than okay with that, I’d rather have her than not, so I’ll take what I can get, and try my best to not fuck up again.

Key word try.

There have been multiple situations where I have to physically stop myself from kissing her. It sounds fairly simple but let me tell you, that shit is fucking hard. Half the time it looks like she wants me to too, or she’ll look at me, almost asking for it. Maybe she’s testing me or something, but I find it at times hard to keep away from her in that sense. I’m almost glad she’s going back tomorrow because then I’m safe. I can control what I say, and there’s no chance of me kissing her or anything. Even though I’ll miss her, it’ll be easier for me.

It’s not like every moment I’m with her all I want to do is kiss her, there’s just little moments every now and then that I have the urge to just kiss her until I can’t breathe.

She’ll be scrolling through her phone, leaning against the wall or sitting down, and she’ll be oblivious to everything going on around her, and I’ll just have this urge to kiss her.

I’d never force myself on her, if it does happen, I’ll only keep it up if she’s as into it as me. That’s how our relationship works, it’s both of us, not just one of us, it’s either us or nothing, no half ass relationship.

We always said that, it’s either all or nothing.

Harper begins to wake up and she stretches, some bones cracking in the process, then she turns over on her side to face me.

“Morning.” She mumbles.

“Morning.” I echo and continue to scroll through my phone.

“Did you see any demons last night?” Harper asks after some silence.

“Um, I don’t think so.” I answer.

“Good.”

“They might be friendly ghosts, and you just upset them and now they’re coming to get you at night.” I tease.

“No! What if they travel with me back to England?” Harper panics.

“I’m pretty sure they don’t exist.” I reassure.

“That’s not what you said last night.” She tells me.

“Okay, I doubt they will follow you, Harper.” I rephrase. “But I can’t guarantee there aren’t any ghosts, demons, spirits, or creepy little girls at your place, as I’ve never been.” I smirk.

“Luke!” She whines and sits up, poking back at me.

I look at her, seeing her messy hair, annoyed smile adorning her features, slightly sleepy eyes, and part of the sun shining onto her face.

“I hate you.” She mumbles laying back down.

“Do you?” I raise an eyebrow at her, knowing the answer.

“Well kinda, your hair gets weird, your voice is annoying, then you look strange sometimes, and I guess all of you is annoying, so take that how you want.” She shrugs and I laugh, rolling my eyes.

“Now I hate you.”

“Good we have something in common.”

“What hating each other?” I question.

“Yeah.” I nod.

“Mate, I think we should find something else we have in common.” I tell her.

“Maybe.”

We both go on our phone’s for a little while, showing each other pictures every now and then.

“Do you think you’ll come visit me when I’m at home?” Harper asks after a while and rests her chin on my chest, looking up at me.

“Do you want me to?” I question, putting my phone down, and giving her tickles on her shoulder blade.

“Yeah.” She nods.

“Then maybe I’ll go and visit you.” I suggest. “But I don’t know, we’re gonna be really busy soon, moving to L.A. and then recording the album, so I’m not sure how much free time I’ll have for flying out to places.”

“Fair enough, me either to be honest, but we’ll see each after Christmas, I’m pretty sure.” She replies. “Will you still be here after Christmas?”

“We go at some point during January, I think mid January.” I answer.

“I go back on the 19th I think.” Harper tells me.

“We’ll have some time together, don’t worry.” I reassure her and push some hair behind her ear.

She nods and lays back down on her stomach, picking up her phone, beginning to scroll through.

“Do you think you could come visit me/us out in L.A.?” I ask her, running my hand down her back, resting it on the small of her back.

“The next break I have is in February.” She responds.

“How long is that for?”

“A few weeks, I’m not entirely sure.” She shrugs.

“Do you think you could fly out?” I ask.

“Maybe, I’m not sure.” She answers. “I’ll tell you when it gets closer.”

Silence creeps over us, but it’s the comfortable silence, there aren’t any words that need to be spoken.

Haven’t had any of this type of silence in a while, usually it’s awkward silence, which if you have ever been in, it’s unbearable and you want to stab yourself in the eye.

“Do you want some breakfast.” Harper asks after a while.

“Uh, I think my family is going out for brunch or something, so I’m alright.” I say.

“Okay.”

Harper sits up, rubbing her face and begins to stand up, walking over to her wardrobe. I watch as she searches through the hangers for an outfit, already knowing she’ll pick out a pair skinny jeans then a shirt of some sort then a hoodie.

“Hey, I’ve still got a couple of your shirts, do you want them back?” Harper questions.

“Which ones are they?” I question.

She pulls out a hanger of some shirts, some I’d just bought and she’d stolen them prior to the break up, and some I haven’t worn in ages, a few even having holes in them.

But the reason I gave the ones with holes to her was because when we would be cuddled up in bed at night, I could feel her through the holes and it gave me another level of closeness.

“Can I have the black one with the skull on it back? I was looking for it for months.” I ask.

“Sure, even if it is my favourite.” She sighs and throws it towards me.

“Do you have any other stuff of mine here?”

“I have a pair of shoes, some jewellery, your hairbrush, and a hoodie.” She explains.

“I’ve got some of your stuff at my house, life some make up, jewellery, headphones, a couple of your CDs, and hair bands, also I’m forever find bobby pins all over my room and bathroom by the way.” I reply.

“Sorry about that.” She chuckles and pulling out some items of clothing out of her wardrobe.

“Do you want them back? I started a pile.” I joke.

“You know, I think I’m alright.” She tells me. “Now, turn around, I need to get dressed.”

“Why? It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” I tease.

“Yeah well now we’re just friends so it’s weird for you to see me naked.”

“Is it though?” I raise an eyebrow with a smirk.

“Yes! I’m not getting changed in front of you, Luke. So close your eyes or turn around.”

“I don’t see the big deal, I’ve seen it before, so it’s nothing new.”

She rolls her eyes and walks out the door, and I laugh.

As she’s in the bathroom, I may as well get dressed too, so I put on the shirt I’ve just gotten back and put on some jeans, then using my phone as a mirror as I do my hair.

By the time I’m all finished, Harper still isn’t back, so I go on her laptop to play some games she has on here, still remembering her password.

“What are you doing?” She asks as she walks in, her hair curled – that’s what she was doing.

“Playing Sims.” I answer as I design a sim.

“Okay.” She nods a little confused but shrugs it off and goes over to her vanity. “I got some custom content a couple weeks ago, so there should be some good clothes.” Harper informs me as she sits next to me with her make up bag.

“Yeah it’s all girl’s clothes, I don’t want to put a dress on a guy.” I remind her.

“Luke get with the times, you can do whatever you want.” She slaps my arm.

“I mean if you say so.” I shrug and put the dress on him. “Do you want me to add ‘typical’ girly things?”

“If you want, it’s your sim.”

I continue to make my sims whilst Harper does her make up, sometimes putting her input in.

“What’s it like putting on make up everyday?” I ask her as I’m building my house. “A pain in the ass.” She mumbles as she does stuff to her eyebrows.

“And you’ve been doing it since you were like 13?”

“12 or 13.” Harper confirms.

“I remember when you used to do some emo shit to your eyes.” I chuckle.

“My eyeliner went all the way to my temples.” She smiles.

“You looked kinda hot though.” I laugh.

“You think?” She raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah, then you used to wear all these chokers, and these bracelets.”

“I still wear the bracelets.” She states and lifts her arm up revealing multiple bracelets.

“Remember when you begged your mum to get all these piercings?”

“I did get some of those, just not all of them. Like I got multiple ones in my ears, then an eyebrow piercings, one in my nose, but then I wanted my lip pierced and she drew the line there.” Harper reminisces.

“The eyebrow piercing was a good look, I liked it, added a bit of spicyess.” I click my fingers in a z shape.

“Will you ever get any more piercings?” She questions.

“Probably not.”

“Whatever you do, do not take the lip piercing out, because I really like it.” She tells me.

“Do you?” I wiggle my eyebrows at her.

“Tattoos?” Harper ignores my response.

“Not as long as my mum’s alive.” I joke.

“How on earth did you get her to agree to the lip piercing?” She questions.

“I didn’t, then when I showed her she didn’t speak to me for 2 days.” I confess.

“Shit, I don’t remember that.” She mutters as she puts some mascara on.

“Remember when you used to dye your hair all the time?” I question.

“Yeah, my hair is only just recovering from that.” She chuckles.

“I really liked when you had blue hair.” I inform.

“What about my hair now?” She looks up from doing more things to her eyes, with an eyebrow raised.

“Your hair looks great now…” I trail off and she gives me a playful glare.

“You don’t like it as much do you?” She asks.

“It was a different time, things have changed, hair has changed.” I try to save myself.

“Whatever, I know how you feel.” She mumbles and I just roll my eyes with a smile.

“Can I do your make up?” Harper asks after a little while.

“What the fuck? No.” I decline.

“Why?” She asks.

“Because I don’t want you to.” I simply put it.

“Please.” She drags out.

“I’m not into that kind of stuff.”

“So?”

“So I don’t want to.” I sigh.

“But you said my hair looked bad!” She claims and lays in my lap, looking up at me with a pout.

“I didn’t say that.” I laugh and run my fingers through her hair.

“Yes you did, so let me do your make up as an apology.” She tells me.

“Babe, I didn’t say your hair looked bad, I just said that I liked your blue hair, and I said your hair looks great now.” I inform.

“Just let me so your make up!” She whines.

“No!” I imitate her.

“I’ll make you look really good.”

“What about my face now? You don’t like it do you? Just because you said that, you can’t do my make up.”

Harper looks up at me with face I can only describe as wanting to kill me or burst out laughing.

“Just please let me do your make up, you get it done fairly regularly, it won’t be any different. I’ll let you do whatever you want after.”

“But it’s hot and I don’t want to be hot.” I pathetically excuse.

“We’re doing this whether you like it or not.” She declares and gets up, walking over to her desk and picks up her make up bag. “So do you want a dramatic look or a natural look?” She questions as she stands in front of me.

“No look.”

“Let’s go for natural.” She mumbles to herself.

“Harper.” I whine and touch her thigh briefly.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t want to do this.” I pout.

“Well deal with it, it was always going to happen.” She shrugs and picks up a brush and a bottle of what looks like a melted body.

“What’s that?” I question.

“Foundation.”

“Oh.” I nod and watch as she pumps stuff on her hand.

“It doesn’t quite match your skin tone, you’re more tanned than me, but it’s not far off.” She says.

“It’s cold.” I cringe as she starts putting the stuff on my face.

“You get used to it.”

“Now what’s that?”

“Concealer.” Harper answers.

“What does it do?”

“Covers up blemishes and stuff but I’m mainly using it to cover up your stubble.”

“What? I shaved yesterday.”

“Clearly you’re a fast grower or not very well.”

“All of this is a bit much don’t you think? Like you do most of this everyday when you don’t even need it, maybe I’m just lazy.” I furrow my eyebrows.

After a while of her doing my make up, she’s getting into the intricate parts, and is concentrating.

“Luke stop moving.” She says.

“I can’t help it!” I exclaim and she just rolls her eyes and sits on my lap to stop me moving, my hand instantly going to her waist. “Geez, moving fast are we?”

“Now, don’t be alarmed.” Harper ignores my teasing and grabs some weird tube.

“Masaray?” I question.

“No, mascara.” She corrects. “You always say that.”

“Is it actually better than sex?” I question as I read the label.

“Sometimes.” She shrugs.

“Really?”

“Depends on the person.”

“What about when we were together?”

“No comment.” She says and I chuckle.

“Have you been with anyone since we broke up?

“Um, no comment.” Harper repeats.

“Come on.” I squeeze her waist.

“I’ve been with a few people, but nothing else.” She mumbles and I bite my lip. “You?”

“A few.” I confess. “When do you think you’re going to meet someone else?”

“I have no idea.” She shrugs. “I’m not sure if I’m looking for someone new.” Harper sighs as she holds the back of my neck to keep me steady.

“Blink.” She requests and I blink feeling the brush go through my lashes, and she tells me to blink a couple more times. “Again.” She orders when she does the other eye.

I look up at her as she’s concentrating on putting the lid back on. Her concentrating face has always been cute, her eyebrows furrow slightly, and her mouth opens a little, and her tongue goes to the roof of her mouth.

She’s always looked stunning, but right now I don’t know what it is, maybe it’s the way the sun is shining, maybe it’s the angle, maybe it’s just her facial expression or something, but right in this moment, she looks even more stunning than ever. I’ve always been attracted her, but right now I’m so drawn to her it’s almost alarming.

I squeeze her waist gently and she takes her attention away from whatever she was doing and looks down at me, a small smile on her lips. We kinda stare at each other for a while, and then I must be imagining this, but I swear I can see her leaning in, all I can do is stay frozen.

“We shouldn’t.” She whispers as our lips nearly touch.

“No.” I agree.

“But it’s hard to stop.”

“I know.”

“We can’t.”

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