#i probably woulda found out he was talking about v if i looked back at the other tweets that day

[purelintrash]

Oh. Perspective on this. (Also, my fucking heart jesus.)

(Playlist here.)

[agirlunderarock]

How I accidentally wrote 20 page paper on Boromir for one of my Final Ever University Papers PART 2

So this took me 5ever because I had to go through my actual paper again to find the sources and the citations I had, and then throw out the academic fluffer I had to speak with. But anyway just be prepared for a long ass read because we gotta touch on nearly every source I argued with in this post before getting to the good stuff. If you haven’t read Part 1 well here it is

Okay Okay where was I?

I said that academics were wrong with how they were judging Boromir right? Is that where I left off? Well thats where I’m starting

So before I go further I need to explain that the main premise for my paper is an argument to characterize Boromir with loyalty and fear, instead of power hungry and whatever the hell used, and then throw out this good vs. evil binary that’s often used to describe the lord of the rings- because lets be real, it looks like that on the surface but everyone has their ups and downs at least once or twice, and if not within the Lord of the Rings, it comes from books that are set in previous ages. 

ANYWAY

Keep the fear and loyalty things in mind alright?

Fear sounds like an odd choice for a character I’m supposed to be defending right? I know.

We’ll get to that just bear with me. 

So in order to say that academics were wrong, I first had to look at where they were coming from and try to see what textual evidence they had. Because if you’ve done academic research, you know how important textual evidence is. 

So while finding literally nothing that focused specifically on Boromir, I found  J.R.R. Tolkien Encyclopedia : Scholarship and Critical Assessment by Michael D. C. Drout, which I still have questions about but hey it was a good starting point. You would think that a whole Encyclopedia dedicated to Tolkien would have more than a handful of entries dedicated to Boromir. I mean mentioning him in Gondorian politics or relations with Rohan or even Boromir I instead of just Boromir II but heres the thing, IN THE WHOLE IN ENCYCLOPEDIA HE WAS ONLY MENTIONED 8 TIMES.

THE NAME BOROMIR (which in this document only refers to Boromir II) ONLY APPEARS IN EIGHT ENTRIES.

You know what those entries are? 

‘double of,’ - okay what the fuck does that mean?

 I honestly don’t remember what it means I think it had to do with character foils, you know like how Neville is a foil for Harry in Harry Potter? If I remember correctly, it identified the common foils, Gandalf v. Saruman, Frodo v. Gollum and Aragorn v. Boromir. I could be totally wrong about this, its been exactly a year and I didn’t focus on this entry.

 ‘Faramir and,’- yes we know Boromir is Faramir’s older brother. What else ya got?

 ‘herosim of,’- Ah yes sounds promising

And you think it would shed some positive light on our boy right? RIGHT? Heres what the entry said per the quote in paper “It is in fact Boromir’s desire for the victory of Minas Tirith and his own glory there in that motivates his own grasp for the ring: the heroic motivations of fame, reward, and revenge (in this case on Sauron)” ( Drout 270 ).  

LIKE EXCUSE ME WHAT THE FUCK- sorry wait, let me show you how I rephrased that for academic purposes:  This description does not actually describe Boromir as being heroic, but later explains why these descriptions of heroism are actually evil compared to characters like Aragorn, Frodo, Gimli and the rest of the Fellowship.

 ‘penance of,’- Yet another character who achieves redemption through death. Great. I hate it. Shut up. Kill this trope.

 and finally,  ‘tyranny of.’- yes because Boromir was obviously a tyrant, but I say again SHOW ME TEXTUAL EVIDENCE

AND I’M TALKING ONLY ABOUT THE BOOKS HERE REMEMBER ALL OF THIS IS INFORMATION ON THE BOOKS. like there were entries on things from the movies, and even fanfiction, but THESE ENTRIES WERE BUILT ON RESOURCES THAT BUILT ARGUMENTS ABOUT THE BOOKS

I’m getting off track here

SO 

ANYWAYS

At the end of each of those entries were list of sources that the author used to create those entries. So guess what that meant- Ya girl was hand delivered sources to search for and hopefully they had some specific pages references for me to look up within the actual book series. At least you would think thats what I found, but NOOOOOOOOO, what I actually found is that EVERY SINGLE REFERENCED SOURCE CHARACTERIZED BOROMIR ONLY BY HIS ATTEMPT TO TAKE THE RING FROM FRODO.

Thats like living your whole life and having people who say they know you intimately (not in the romantic sense in the knows you to your core sense) BUT the only thing they really know about you is that one time in pre-school you tried to draw a rocket on the wall but actually it looked like a penis thats the only thing anyone will remember you for. I didn’t do this by the way, nor know anyone who did this but some kid somewhere probably did

But you know me at this point I had to check the sources and see what they were saying. So I took up Patrick Grant’s  “Tolkien: Archetype and Word,” where he talks mostly about Frodo. I know its a stretch BUT he talks about loyalty specifically Sam’s loyalty to Frodo, and remember we want to establish that Boromir is incredibly loyal, so we have to see what he’s actually up against according to the critics

“…Sam Gamgee, whose part is least publicly acclaimed of all, but who in the sense in which we are now using the word, is especially heroic. His unfailing devotion to Frodo is exemplary, and here again Sam is a key link in bring the meaning of the book to the reader, the everyman who admires great deeds but wonders what his own part might be in important events which seem well enough wrought without him” ( 180 ).  

Okay that seems fair from how Tolkien himself has talked about Sam right. And you’re probably like okay, but what the fuck does that have to do with Boromir? Literally just further down the page  he says:

“…. The fellowship breaks only when the bond of obedience is broken, as it is by Boromir, whose pride and lust for personal power are evidence of false heroism” (180).

LUST FOR PERSONAL POWER???? PRIDE?????

SHOW ME THE PAGES SIR

GIVE THEM TO ME

I know you’re probably thinking, ‘but wait he’s actually kinda right-”

WRONG

Its anxiety, I’m telling you

I counted 

its fear and anxiety

but again I’m getting a head of myself. Basically Grant just took a shat on Boromir to make Sam look good.

EXCUSE ME SIR SAM IS A GODDAMN MASTERPIECE ON HIS OWN THANKS. DON’T TRASH BOROMIR TO COMPLIMENT SAM. Also be wary of people who do this in general, if they put someone else down instead of just out right complimenting you take it as a warning

Oh and did I mention that because Grant says Boromir is technically being selfish, another critics analysis makes Boromir Evil, because acts done out of selfish pursuits are seen as evil and a “perversion of human will.” But you know, thats just how it be sometimes when you’re putting literature in conversation with one another.

Just know I pick on Grant a lot, mostly because he says shit like this:  “…the most blinding love derives directly from such obedience,” (180). when it comes to Sam, and then takes a shit on Boromir. Like we’re going to come back to the obedience thing in a little bit, but just know that Merry, Pippin, Faramir, Eowyn, Even Sam at one point, and I mean I guess by some extension movie!Arwen take a big ‘ol shit on the idea that the only way to be heroic is to be OBEDIENT.

I get it, its another Catholic thing. I’m Catholic, I know what its getting at. But consider- no

Basically I boil this shit down to one thing

Sam Only Owes Loyalty To Frodo.

Literally his main concern throughout the book is Frodo and then the Shire and what that encompasses. So yeah its easy to be loyal and obedient to someone who shares all the same ideas and values as you and has a pretty similar lived experience right??? ABSOFUCKINGLUTELY And before anyone says Sam was loyal to the fellowship, Sam would literally cut a bitch for Frodo. He woulda fought Aragorn in the Prancing Pony if he thought he had to. He gave a second thought to Merry and Pippin when they left the Fellowship, but it wasn’t a “we should go back for them all or wait for them” It was “i’m gonna support mr. Frodo, even if Idon’t much like the gollum creature he decided to drag around but fair i guess cuz none of us know the fucking way into Mordor.” 

So I made a chart to demonstrate why comparing Boromir and Sam is a big no no, and what kinda things Boromir was working with the whole time he was part of the fellowship.

Did I forget to mention that this was supposed to be a visual research paper?

So Sam and Frodo had a lot of the same Fears and values.

Our Boy Boromir over here has to deal with being a political/military figure, meet the demands of his father, he’s gotta try to be a good brother, he’s gotta learn to get along with the fellowship, and then each of those new or old loyalties has different responsibility and expectations he’s supposed to meet. And because I had to include Aristotelian ideas as part of the class, to quote myself: Despite the Aristotelian concept that it is impossible to be a virtuous friend to many, Boromir’s actions throughout The Fellowship of the Ring show him attempting to do this ( Aristotle 9 ). Like thats literally why he ends up a member of the Fellowship, he’s a little unsure of this plan, but hey its the best one he’s heard and if everyone thinks its going to work then by golly he’ll see it done. But again Aristotle (just in your head pronounce it like chipotle for me please) wants to try to establish a structure that I think is stoopid, he’s got a thing that says  “it is a more terrible thing to defraud a comrade than a fellow-citizen, more terrible not to help a brother than a stranger, and more terrible to wound a father than any one else” (15). 

So remember those loyalties in the little blue squiggles up in the picture, we already know that Denethor, and Faramir bump heads a little, and then the soldiers serving with Boromir probably have their own ideas about how Gondor should be defended, and then he goes to the Council of Elrong and they’re saying something completely different from what he’s heard- theres a lot of threads pulling the Captain in different directions. He’s got a lot hats to wear and demands to fulfill and living under the shadow of Mordor with all of those responsibilities is bound to give anyone anxiety. 

But don’t just take my word for it

The movie actually reinforces this. I know the book says Boromir was “...pierced with many black feathered arrows” But the movie specifically makes it 3

Now I’m sure Mr. Peter Jackson didn’t intend for what I’m about to say, but I think its a pretty cool notion to think about. Because you can summarize Boromir’s conflicting loyalties into “family’ ‘country’ and “Fellowship’. Like his father would have him bring the ring to Gondor, his role as a military/political figure for Gondor means he should be doing whatever he has to in order to protect his country, and the Fellowship is like nah man we destroy this thing and everything else will fall into place, and Boromir is left having to decide whih of these things to act upon. Family, Country, and the Fellowship are the competing signs that make up is character arc, and his grapple with these three things is ultimately what leads to his death.

Now if your thinking family and country should be lumped together- theres a reason for it, just trust me, bare with me please

But basically what I’m trying to get at is given all these factors, you can’t compare a character like Boromir with all these responsibilities hanging off him to be comparable to Sam whose only responsibility is Frodo. 

But you know who does share all these same demands

Faramir

Like take a look at their character arcs- if you can the text on this next pic is super teeny

If thats too small for you don’t worry about it because we’re gonna get into why Faramir is a better foil for Boromir, and how this should affect the way we as the reader come to understand his character. So fun stuff in the next part! Sorry for dragging this out, but just like my original paper, this turned out to be WAY longer than I expected. 

[hitchell-mope]

(Second film. At cotillion. Part three. After Mal’s been pulled into the water by huma)

Ben: where is she I can’t see her?

Carlos: how long can she hold her breath

Jay: I. I don’t know

Ben: not long.

Evie: what?

Ben: our first date. She thought I drowned. Went in after me and

Jay: you saved her. I remember. Now we gotta save her again.

Ben: I know to oh boy

(Just then the water bubbles furiously and Uma rises from the surface the lower half of her body octopoid and at least the same height as Ursula was during her final battle, perched on her should is Harry. And bound in a tentacle, barely conscious is...)

Ben: MAL!

Doug: Uma stop this now! You’re acting crazy!

Uma (voice booming): oh no dear. Spiteful vindictive

Harry (having the absolute best time of his life): INCREDIBLY LARGE!

Huma: but never crazy!

Uma: now on to business

(She drops Mal into the ocean and begins trying to capsize the boat)

Elsa: time to put that rusty old wand of yours to work headmistress. Children! Jay Evie Jane Ben. With me

Jane: what’re we doing

Elsa: we’re going to stop this boat from becoming the second titanic. On three. 1...2...3!!!!

(They’re eyes all glow and the boat steadies)

Evie: how the

Elsa: the beauty of a crisis. Now Ben. I assume you’re about to do something heroic and foolhardy

Ben: probably

Elsa: try and make sure that nobody gets hurt.

Ben: of course. I might have a plan. Doug is Agrabahn silk shrinkable

Evie (sternly) and Doug: yes

Ben: ah. Ok then how about this

(A flick of his wrist and he’s back in his vk outfit with a few small differences)

Evie: what happened to the jacket

Doug (tired dad mode): and the undershirt

Ben: they’d weigh me down. Jay could you hold this please?

(He hands Jay the crown)

Jay: sure but oh jeez (Ben’s jogging to the railing) wait wait wait

Ben: yes yes yes?

Jay: first of all stop that. Second of all. Here (he summons Maleficent’s sceptre our of thin air and hands it to Ben). Take this. It should help her

Ben: thank you so much woah head rush. Ahem woozy. Hm. All better now

Jay: yeah that’s because it recognises your magic but not you

Ben: I love being a hybrid

Adam: a WHAT?!?!?!

(Ben uses telekinesis to shove his father out of the way into the corridor)

Ben: blow it out your ass dad. Wish us luck. Imma coming honey!

(He launches himself over the side and into the water. Just barely missing Uma’s tentacles)

Doug: his magic will protect him right

Jay: possibly. If not. Hope you like the throne

Carlos (hitting his arm): not funny.

Jay: sorry

Doug: genies can breathe underwater right?

Jay: yes

Doug: Ben has five minutes. Then you’re going in after them

Jay (phoney British accent): as you command. My liege

(Under the water Ben’s swimming to Mal who’s sinking fast. He keeps dodging Uma’s tentacles. Finally he reaches Mal and put her mothers sceptre within arms reach. The moment it touches her hand her eyes open)

(Back on the ship)

Elsa: can anyone see them and Dizzy please stop throwing canapés at Uma

Dizzy (conspicuously giving Merida the food): it was Merida (innocent giggle)

Elsa: remember that I have a younger sister.

Doug: Hook seems to be having some sort of religious experience up there

Evie: yeah. He sorta reminds of someone

Devie (looking at each other in recognition): Troy McClure

(The waters bubbling again)

Jay: come on guys. Come on. Don’t let her win. Not like this

(Ben and Mal come shooting out of water. Mal’s now a dragon. Ben’s perched on her back laughing and shrieking his head off)

Ben (at the top of his lungs): WAAAAAAAAAAHOOOOOOOOOO!!!! MY GIRLFRIEND’S A DRAGON!!!!

Devie: donkey from shrek

(Mal climbs further up into the sky. Ben slips. And falls off her).

Harry: He not gonna make is he?

(Ben plummets through the clouds but pulls up out of it just barely skimming the water)

Harry (fed up): of course he did

(Ben shoots up into the sky. His clothes melt away. From blue and gold to green. He lands on the railing still sopping wet. Now clad in green skelton leaf)

Ben (at the top of his lungs): COCK-A-DOODLE-DOO!!!! (He strikes a power pose, fists on hips and turns to the others on the boat) that was amazing!

Jay (laughing): wow. You look

Carlos: like Pan.

Evie: HAHA! Harry’s in the drink. Again. (She cackles)

(Harry’s fainted dead away off Uma’s shoulder and crashed into the waves below)

Evie: lets boil him

Jay and Doug: no

Evie, Carlos and Dizzy: aww man

Ben: alrighty then. Anyway.

(He flies up to the girls and puts himself between them)

Ben: This isn’t the way. Both of you know that letting whatever happened years ago influence your actions today won’t solve anything. The best thing to do is to keep moving forward and

Uma: back off flyboy

(She swats Ben away and he gets knocked into a pole)

Uma: c’mon Mal let’s finish this once and for all

(Cecealia vs dragon fight begins)

Evie: and that only took twenty minutes to happen

Carlos: yeah. I woulda thought it’d happen the moment ma turned up not dead

Devie, Jay and Dizzy: yeah

Lonnie: we have to help him

Evie: right. Jay get a ladder. I’ll climb up

Lonnie: no. Not Ben. He’s fine. Look

(Ben’s currently trying to help Mal. Setting up shield after shield against Uma’s tentacles)

Lonnie: I meant the other one

Evie: no.

Jane: we should at least try. It’s the right thing to do

Doug: usually is be inclined to agree but you’ve not seen him in action

Carlos: I say we let it drown

Devie: ditto.

Jay: we’ve gotta fish it-him-out.

Carlos: why?

Jay: because if we wanna get Uma on side then the mollusk has to live. No matter how much he deserves to be lost to the depth

Carlos: I hate it when you’re right

Gil (Boyce quivering): please. Please don’t let him die. Please?

(Carlos looks at Gil stony faced. And relents)

Carlos: have it on record that I WILL stab him at the first opportunity. No matter how much the human golden retriever begs

Jay: so you’re not against Evie and I fishing him out

Carlos: against as in anti harry? Yes. Against you doing what’s gotta be done. Reluctantly no

Jay: love ya C

Carlos (giggling): you are now officially out of the doghouse.

Jay: Melody could you?

Melody (now in a lovely ice blue crystalline dress courtesy of Elsa): yes?

Jay: wow nice threads. Anyway. I have it on good authority that you carry around a certain family heirloom?

Melody: Ja

Jay: don’t know what that means. I’m not danish.

Melody: yes I’ve got my grandfathers trident. So I can help you however you want

Adam: miss Boisen I absolutely forbid you help them

Melody: I do not take orders from you Adam. Never have. Never will. Because I am not part of your staff. I am a student teacher. I am my sisters assistant until such time she graduates. But I am not your employee. So yeah. I’m helping my students. Jay. What do you need

Jay (massive grin on his face): we’re going squid fishing

Melody: where do I aim?

(She juts our her hand and the trident spears)

(At the buffet table)

Vision!Harry: sup losers

V!Ben: oh fuck off you no handed blunder

V!Harry: two hands. Numbnuts

V!Ben: keep talking. See what happens. I would love to dismantle you like a Lego Death Star and immolate your bones with you skin still on them

V!Harry: and the bitch says Uma means nothing to her

V!Ben: no. It’s the island Mal doesn’t care about. If Uma meant nothing to Mal. I’d still be jay.

V!Lonnie: ok I’m completely lost

V!Doug: we change when the closest person to our one changed. I used to be Evie. Tall ghostly pale and terrifying used to be Gil. And our “esteemed” leader. Used to be jay.

V!Carlos (smugly): I’ve always been like this

The other soul guides (sans Lonnie): yippee for you

(V!Carlos smiles indulgently)

(Back to the action at the railing)

Jay: so you’re sure you know how to do this without killing Uma?

Melody: oh my friend. With a fun and grin it works fine

Jay: what

Melody: yes. Yes I do know how to do this without hurting my second cousin

Jay: I’m sorry. Did you say second cousin?

Melody: yes. Ursula is my mother’s aunt. That makes Uma and my mother cousins. That makes her and I second cousins.

Jay: I am so sorry

Melody: why would you be sorry? So I’m related to a villain and her daughter. So is Ben. So are you and your little found family. Let’s help your friends.

(She throws the trident in Uma’s direction and it nicks the tentacle that was about to knock Ben out of the sky. Uma bellows in pain)

Uma: WHO DID THAT

Melody: hey! Hey you! Giant scary girl! Listen to. Ben. Or you know, me. Either one will do so

Jay (aside to her): not helping

Melody: yeah thought not

Jay: ok here’s what we’re going to do. Evie. Carlos. Fish the creature from the black lagoon out of the drink. I’m gonna help Ben.

(With that he flies up to where Ben is)

Jay: hey buddy. Need a little help?

Ben (still desperately dodging the tentacles): yes please

Jay: then grab a tentacle

Ben (scandalised): what?

Jay: you heard me. If we don’t do this then the student body will be a human interest story on the news tomorrow morning

Ben: ok

(They dive down and grab one of Uma’s tentacles. Below them in the water Harry’s screaming at them to let her go. Uma for her part does a good job of fighting them off. Mal just hovers there confused)

Jay: and lift

Ben: oh dear

(They fly upwards past Mal and drag Uma along for the ride. Harry grabs on to a tentacle and refuses to let go. But then he slips and lands painfully on the railing)

Carlos: finally. The Hook family line has ended

Harry: I HAVE TWO SISTERS

Carlos: who the fuck cares! Lonnie. Doug. Would you be dears and drags that on to the deck. I’ll get the carving knife

Doug: should we

Lonnie: quiet I don’t think we’re allowed to talk

(They deposit Harry in the deck and Carlos stands over him knife in hand)

Carlos: what do you want me to do Jay!

Jay: keep him there. And E! Keep those force fields up. Otherwise the first thirty rows WILL get wet

Evie: what are you gonna do?

Jay: this (to Ben) DROP HER

(The king and the genie let Uma fall into the water and the impart would’ve reflooded the deck if not for the shields. Unfortunately. This only serves to make Uma mad again. And she channels this anger by ensnaring Ben in her tentacles slowly choking the life out of the king. Jay’s had enough. His body assumes its golden lustre and he flies up into Uma’s face)

Jay: THAT. IS. ENOUGH. YOU KNOW THIS ISNT THE WAY. YOU KNOW THIS WILL ONLY SERVE TO FURTHET ALIENATE YOU. IF YOU WANT WHAT WE HAVE YOU NEED TO STOP ACTING LIKE A PETULANT CHILD AND START PLAYING THE GAME RIGHT. OTHERWISE IT WILL BE JUST YOU AND THAT THING THAT IS SPEWING TWICE SWALLOWED SEA WATER ON EVIES MANOLOS LEFT ON THE ISLAND TO ROT

(On the deck Evie jumps out of Harry’s range)

Jay: SO WHAT IS IT GOING TO BE. A TANTRUM OR ARE YOU GOING TO USE THE BRAINS I KNOW YOU HAVE

(Uma’s face silently crumples. She (surprisingly gently) puts Ben back on deck, soaked to the bone and retching slightly from the choking but none the worse for wear, plucks up Harry and swiftly disappears beneath the waves leaving Ben’s ring behind)

Jay: well. That was surprisingly easily handled

(He flies down to the deck and hands Ben back his crown. Mal flaps back down, purple and green smoke surrounds her and she’s back in human form, except her hair’s undone, her dress is purple green and black and she’s holding the sceptre in her right hand. She smiles weakly at the crowd. The promptly spins around and vomits over the side. Loudly. For two full minutes. Jay rushes over to her)

Jay: hey you. Now. I got you a cap of mouth wash. And a breath mint. There you go. Now. (Loud whisper) a dragon. A giant fire breathing scaly ass mother fu

Mal (taking his face in her hands gently to shit him up): I know. I know.

Jay: how?

Mal: that I don’t know

Jay: oooh the sceptre.

Mal: that’s probably

Jay: now. The king awaits. Shall we?

Mal: we shall

(They walk down the stairs to where the series is. She and Ben smile at each other. Then he scoops get up and plants one on her. Carlos, not one to be outdone, scurries over to Jay, dips him and plants a longer one in him. Which gathers an even bigger cheer from the crowd. Especially Gil who can be heard over the others)

Doug: it’s about damn time.

Mal: hey jay. Stop by my room later. We gotta talk

Jay: well let’s see have you talked with Doug yet?

Doug: no. No she has not

Jay: you first then me. Capiche?

Mal: capiche

(On the chaperones platform Fairy Godmother is tight lipped)

Elsa: they’re teenagers headmistress. They will kiss.

Fairy Godmother: oh it’s not that your majesty. I can smell something unpleasant

Elsa (sniffing): you know what. I can too

Merida: it’s rotten skeleton leaves. What our dear little boy king is wearing.

Elsa: Oh. Queen Mother. Your turn

Belle: Ben?

(Ben doesn’t answer, he’s still looking at Mal in reverence, until Mal clears her throat and cocks her head to Belle’s location)

Mal: it seems that your clothes are rotting away dear.

Ben: is everything

Mal: oh yeah. But your shoulders are exposed

Ben: right. Ummmm. Wait right here

(He teleports to his mothers side. When the smoke clears he’s back in his vk outfit. Still without the beanie jacket or undershirt)

Ben: better?

Mal: ooooh so much better

Belle: the tuxedo was so much more

Evie: don’t worry Belle. The silk used is shrinkable. So this is preferable.

Belle: ah. Ok. Now Ben. I and the others adults are going to the yachts bar. Lumiere is going to be here as damage control. But you are in charge. Understand?

(Ben nods emphatically. The four women turn to go but Mal catches up with them before they leave)

Mal: Fairy Godmother. Do you think I could get my spell book back from the museum? Tomorrow I mean. Only that the last few days did a number on me and made me realise I can’t not use what I have. It’s not healthy and it’s not right. Is any of this making any sense to you at all?

Fairy Godmother: of course dear. It’s your property after all. Just say the word and it’s yours

Mal: please?

Fairy Godmother: where would you like it to be?

Mal: Jay’s room. Bedside cabinet. With a protection spell on it so only Ben and I can use it. Because. I have helluva lot to teach him

Ben: I very much look forward to learning from you

Mal: and. I’m sure Ben would agree. Magic classes. For those that want them. I know I would. No. I know that I need to learn more control WOAH!

(Ben’s scooped her up in a bear hug)

Mal: I take it you like that idea

Doug: when you were >ahem< out for the count Ben decided that it was time that magic be fully reinstated

Mal: I LOVE THIS BOY

Belle: I can see that the kingdom will be in very safe hands with you two and you are on his back

(Mal’s clambered onto Ben’s back and she’s stroking his hair away from his face)

Elsa: Queen Mother. I believe this is our exit cue

Merida: aw but I wanna dance

Elsa: the bar has Guinness whiskey

Merida: PEACE FECKERS

(She runs off)

Belle: that was easily handled

(As they’re leaving)

Belle: Verna could you get me the family lawyer please

Verna: of course ma’am. Uhhhh. Heh heh. What for?

Belle: I need to see mr Hartcourt about divorcing Adam and adopting that young man

Elsa: Gil? You want to adopt Gil?

Belle: yes. Problem?

Elsa: none whatsoever. In fact I’ve got an idea I’d like to run through with Ben. When the cotillion is over tomorrow of course

Belle: I assure you your majesty you shall have the full unwavering support of my son and I

Elsa: god save the king and his mother then

Belle: indeed

(Back at the cotillion)

Carlos: alright. ALRIGHT! Everyone. The ones of the hour. My parents! King Ben. Lady Mal. Take it away old man

Ben (laughing): I’m only two years older than you C

Carlos (a “I’m cute so I can get away with it” look on his face): still older

Mal (chuckles as she tilts Ben’s crown): I think what Carlos is trying to is: let’s party

(She uses magic to levitate the electronic equipment above the deck and they all start dancing)

(This is when “it’s time” happens)

[primalspice]

newb my husband 😭, 🍟, 🕷️, 🌱, 🌌, ✂️, 💎, 💧, ☁️

:P

😭 what makes them cry? do they cry easily?

he could probably count the amount of times hes cried in his adult life on his fingers; he has a hard time with it regardless of how upset he is. i think he’s only cried about his parents and that whole situation once or twice and hes pretty numb to it. i think he’d cry at a season finale just as easily. I think he can also be prone to anxious crying but he’s not gonna sit there and sob about it hes just like :| :| :| my eyes are leaking :| :| 

🍟 do they order food often? or they prefer to cook their own food?

he almost never cooks for himself but when he does its just like soup or cereal or somethin. never bothered learning how to do it apart from watching binging with babish. more often than not he has beretta bring him takeout and he pays her back. sometimes he’ll come along for the ride but usually not.

🕷️ what is their biggest fear? do they have any irrational / mundane fears?

generally death and loss of control over things are his biggest fears but i think that encapsulates a lot. very debilitating. i think his main concerns in relation to that are car accidents and random Or premeditated violence killing but he seems to be forcing himself to push thru his fear of the prior.

🌱 what is their most vivid memory from childhood?

realistically probably nothing special but i think his exposure to his parent’s psycho doomsday shelter had an effect on him (and his brain chemicals) considering he’d only really seen it once or twice in his youth and immediately decided to move there permanently after his parents died..... also i found this old pic while looking for something else so maybe he remembers 9/11 more actually

🌌 what was the inspiration behind your oc? what was the first thing you decided about them?

jesus its been so long. um. i wanted an Antagonist but my plot was like 100% different back then. he was supposed to be a Shit Starter and an asshole and he still kinda is but he doesnt do crimes and harass hes just rlly pathetic. i think the first thing i decided was that he’d be rich and ginger. that’s still true. his doomsday fearingness was also v early and then i got rid of that and then i brought it back. he’s taken many forms in his 5 years of existence. i think his current/final form came about when i finally listened to Rasputina Watch TV and decided that he can be a gore freak but ALSO be a poor little meow meow. heres some throwback art *cringes* 

✂️ what is the "last straw" for them to cut someone out of their life? how easily do they let go of people?

i think its quite random hes kinda temperamental and subject to whatever his fucked up brain tells him to do LOL beretta is really the only person he’s had a conflict-propelled falling out with tho (dollskill graduated hs and never really talked to him that much after that. he probably woulda replied tho. yea even after all the weird harassment). basically, he thinks hes cool with cutting off beretta bcz she’s no longer sympathetic to his Situation but hes not actually cool with it bcz shes the glue thats been holding his sad little life together for the past 2 years. she dont wanna baby him anymore and that pisses him off. he also thinks shes like. tampering with his car tho so. thats also part of the issue ig LOL

💎 how rich are they? can they live the lifestyle they want to?

his funds are. plenty sufficient LOL. he inhereted his parents’ money after they died and they were quite wealthy considering their fancy jobs and investments. he can easily afford takeout every day and living in fancy places and paying beretta/sometimes lowell for their errands with plenty to spare. if he had any desire to move somewhere even fancier or do anything extravagant often then he might make a dent in those funds but he’s pretty hunkered down where he is. he doesn’t have to look at the price tag before he buys things. 

💧 random angst headcanon

his entire life is angst but idk. i think he rlly likes lowell and thinks of him Brotherly despite looking down upon his Poorness (I think he likes that he goes along with his shit even tho hes kinda traumatized by it LMAOOO) but lowell dont rlly know how Tortured he is til after he dies bcz like he literally got there. ofc he goes thru his stuff afterwards tho. ofc he does. yes he wrote down wtf is wrong w him Daily yes he left him a sum of Money.

☁️ a soft headcanon

him and beretta were Actual Besties despite their differences for most of their time with each other, we jsut caught them at a bad time. they enjoyed doing normal high schooler things. they went to prom together as besties. i think their fav thing to do woulda been playing xbox and being nuisances at restaurants. idk if this counts as soft but.

[some-guy-writes]

FTB Ch 1.

50 Tungsten Bullets Chapter 1: Fifty

Summary | Next

“Who did you get this from?” Jeebs asked.

Spiv leaned on the pawner’s counter. “Who?” he smirked. ”Ain’t no ‘who.’ Found it ourselves, old man. Though, I might be willing to part with the where for something extra.” 

“I ain’t that old.”

“Twenty years my senior at least,” Spiv snickered. “Makes you old in my book.”

Truth be told, Spiv wasn’t sure as to the exact age of Mr. Jeebs. Looked just as wrinkled and grumpy as he did the day Spiv tried to steal the shoes off his feet as a kid. Spiv got caught and beat till he was seeing stars. But by the fourth attempt, Jeebs sat him down with some lukewarm soup and taught him how to make an honest living. Well, a more honest living.

Jeebs stared at the immaculate metal cylinder with a solemn glare. He didn’t even bother responding with one of his famous ten K curses. The device was silver in color, with a gold tint and despite the dim sunlight peeking through the cracks in Jeeb’s shack, it lit up the room as if being struck by mid day. Fifty thousand kollars, easy. Spiv hadn’t the foggiest what the thing he found was, but old world tech like that would fetch a pretty penny from collectors. He brought it to Jeebs because, fuck, even he got a little sentimental at times. Spiv figured it’d only be right for Jeebs to make the first offer. 

“Put it back,” Jeebs spoke without looking up. 

“Sun bake your brain while I’ve been gone?” Spiv pushed off the ancient dead wood table and paced in a circle. “Shit, Jeebs. My crew almost died a dozen times over to get that thing to town and now you’re saying put it back? This could really change things for us if we find the right buyer.” 

“Ain’t gonna be no buyers, put it back,” Jeebs growled. 

“Old man, I got nothing but respect for you. You’ve done a lot for us over the years, but now you’re talkin’ about taking money out of our pocket.” 

Spiv reached for the device. Jeebs slammed his hand down on its casing with such force that it knocked a crystal on the shelf behind him to the floor, shattering in a myriad of iridescent colors. 

“Take it past Yonder’s Mountain, to the bunker where you found it, and put it back.”

“How’d you-”

Jeebs eyes burned beneath droopy lids and a thick brow. “Because I’m the one who put it there.”

“You couldn’t have,” Spiv stammered. “The hull was sealed for centuries. We checked the logs.”

“User authenticated,” a synthesized voice spoke from the device. There was a hiss as white fog seeped out. A panel popped open to reveal a hollow interior. 

Spiv’s eyes bulged like a rock rabbit that’s been left dead two days on a dirt road. “Shit… You’re an old worlder. One the immortals.” 

“Ain’t all that. Can still die, same as any of you. Just don’t get any older is all.”

Spiv’s gaze drifted back to the capsule. Jeebs turned it around so he could see. Inside was a massive revolver and a single shell with a name on it. Gun like that put everything in the crew’s arsenal to shame. Probably put everything in the whole town of Bakersville to shame.

“It’s my gun,” Jeebs said. “Hideo model 12 hybrid, fifty cal. Made to fire tungsten rounds with ionized neon core. Could punch a hole the size of my fist in a tank from a quarter mile off. And that casing is from when I shot the man who killed my wife.”

“You could buy all of Bakersville with that thing. Fuckn’ shit.”

Jeebs looked away. “And all it cost me was two tickets to Fluorescent.”

“Bull crap,” Spiv laughed. “Old man Jeebs living it up with the rich folks on Fluorescent? I can’t even picture it.”

“It’s the truth. Would have been. If, well...”

“Sorry about your wife.”

“No need to trouble yourself,” Jeebs said, rubbing his nose. “Happened before your great great grandaddy could piss himself.”

“Why leave the gun in the ground?”

“Killed two dozen men with that thing. Didn’t want to be reminded of the kind of man it made me. Stuck it in a casimir vacuum chamber and left it at my wife’s grave.”

A minute of silence passed between them. Jeebs refused to look at the capsule. Spiv couldn’t look away. 

“What does it take? To become immortal, that is,” Spiv asked. 

Jeebs let out a sigh. “Wouldn't tell a soul even if I knew. Wars were fought over that question. Wouldn’t want to be the cause of the next.” 

“Does that mean you’re the last one left? Thought all the immortals were rounded up and killed off in the last conflict.”

“No, not all. They just keep a low profile, like me. Can’t be having any more joining the club neither. Just pray that you never meet one. Seen what happens when people live long enough to lose their humanity.”

Spiv took a deep breath, resting his hands behind his head. “Could just as easily turn you in and buy a ticket to Fluorescent myself.” 

“Do what you will,” Jeebs spoke. “You’re a good kid. Wouldn’t want my head to pay for nobody else’s trip to Flour. But I won’t be goin’ easy. Last thing my wife said to me before she died was to live a long and beautiful life. And I don’t intend to let her know how cruel that was to say.”

Spiv cracked a smile. “Wouldn’t dream of throwing my father off a cliff to save my own skin. Might never met him, but you’re sure as hell the closest thing I’ve got.”

Jeebs wiped his eyes. “Don’t say shit like that. Might even make this ol’ life worth living.”

“But what about the gun? Even if I put it back, someone else is just gonna come along and find it.”

“I know.” Jeebs said. “Just get it out of my sight. It’s yours. Spent too much time remembering things I’d hoped to forget.”

“Ey, Spiv,” a wary voice spoke from behind. 

“Well if it ain’t lil’ Kit,” Jeebs chuckled. “Still think you’re better off runin’ with Spiv than workin’ the brothel with your mum.”

“Fuck off, Jeebs. But seriously,“ she said, tugging at Spiv’s arm. “We gotta go. Like right now.”

Spiv glared at her. “What’d you do?”

“I got kinda bored waiting and I mighta scammed a few shady pricks. Now let’s go!”

“Weren’t wearing black masks, were they?” Spiv asked. 

“Yeah. Why?”

“Fuck, Kit! That’s the Faceless Gang from the down south. I warned you about them. Those fuckers will straight up kill you. Like chopped up into little bits and fed to livestock kinda dead.” 

Kit chewed on her cheek. “...Well that’s even more reason why we need to go.”

“Take the door out back,” Jeebs said. Right as the one in the front was knocked clean off its hinges by a large, black boot. 

Spiv scooped up the capsule and bolted. “Find the crew and skip,” he said to Kit as they crept out of the shack. “Not the usual place. Second cave past the landfill. Got it?”

“Yeah. What about you?”

“I’m staying for a bit. Gotta see if old man Jeebs needs my help.”

Kit nodded. She pulled her scarf around her face and dashed off. Like lightning on a sunny day the kids used to call her, and for good reason. Spiv breathed a little easier. Ice cube’s chance in winter on Sebrum anyone’d catch Kit when she got going. 

Spiv peaked between shelves filled with Jeeb’s junk. Just enough to see a cloaked figure in all black strutting towards the old man, an intimidating gun at his hip. 

“Lookin’ for a little roach that ran away with my money,” the stranger said. “Wouldn’t happened to seen where it went, would you pawn man?”

The man in black spoke through some sort of filter. His voice sounded distorted, robotic, like that of the AI in Jeeb’s capsule. 

“Don’t do business with roaches.” Jeebs eyed the man from where he sat. “If you’re here to buy or sell, then we can talk.” 

The man in black stepped closer and put both hands on the counter. “Well I’ll be. You are the spittin’ image of the man that killed the ol’ boss Joey Iron Rod. Grandaddy o’ yours? Grandaddy’s granddaddy?”

“Wouldn’t know nothin’ ‘bout it.”

“Nah. ‘Cause I know for fact the fuck never made spawn. You are the man that killed Joey Iron Rod. Woulda thought time’d do my work for me. Guess the only way to make sure a job is done is to do it yourself, right?” the stranger laughed.

“Might have a point there. Figured the rest of you immortal cunts got blown up in the wars with the rest.” Jeebs reached for a shotgun under his desk.

“Nah see, the old old gang made it through the wars alright. Hid out in the desert, got by. ‘Course, really should be thanking you. Made picking them off myself a whole lot easier.” The stranger leaned in closer. “Let you in on a secret. Reason my gang wear’s masks is so I’ll always be on top. Just gotta purge a couple cunts and call myself something new. ‘Course, now that you know, I’ma have to kill you.”

“Best move your failed fetal acohol abortion ass along,” Jeebs said. “This is my town. Been here forty years. Anything happens to me, posse of thirty to three hundred be after you.”

The man in black stepped away, turning his back, arms raised in a V. “Town might be yours, but the whole world of Sebrum is mine. I am its god. Its immortal ruler. Anyone who stands against my rule will be-”

Before the stranger could finish his sentence, Jeebs landed two rounds of buckshot in his back. The man stumbled from the impact, but he just laughed. 

“Gonna need more than that to kill me,” the man in black spoke. 

That voice made Spiv the coldest he’d ever felt. Tasting ice once when he was seven was now in second place. He swallowed, hard and dry.

The stranger rolled up a dark sleeve. Underneath was a metal arm. It gleamed like the capsule Spiv clutched in his hands. 

“While you been playing shop keep, I’ve been quite productive with my time,” the stranger said, admiring his body. “Took a few generations of scavengers to collect all this. Enough old world tech to make that ol’ cyborg Joey Iron Rod green with envy. Count yourself honoured. You’re the first to see this hand in the better part of a century.” 

He raised his palm to Jeebs.

Jeebs shoved another two rounds in his gun and took aim.

“Your wife screamed bloody murder as Joey split ‘er in two with his iron rod,” the man in black chuckled. “Thought I’d let you know, for when you meet ‘er again.”

There was a soft wine as capacitors discharged. A red light shined from the stranger’s hand, bathing the shop in blood red. Jeebs fired two shots.

Spiv blinked. The next thing he knew, the shack was in flames and Jeebs was on the ground in two pieces. Spiv shook. He’d feared for his life many a time before, but nothing quite compared to this. He wasn’t one to heed monsters. That was, until seeing one in metal flesh. 

The man in black strutted out the way he came, whistling to himself. Spiv wanted to go after him. Wanted to take him from behind and smash his deranged face in. But Spiv was scared. So scared. Too scared to move. He crawled out of the rubble, capsule in hand, tears in his eyes and a tremble in his step. 

It was night when Spiv returned to Jeeb’s shack. The poor thing was looted to completion in hours and the rest burned to the ground. A few people stood around a mound out front with a stone on top. Under normal circumstances, if someone fucked with this town, there’d be a posse after them in no time flat, for better or for worse. How places kept their peace and independence. Nothing like that tonight. By now, everyone had heard the rumors of what the Faceless Gang did to Westbrook Oasis a few miles south. Rumors Spiv was certain to be true. 

Spiv adjusted his belt. He wasn’t used to the weight of fifty tungsten rounds quite yet. Cost him one thousand kollars each. His hand went to the cloth wrapped revolver resting in a holster at his side. The barrel alone nearly reached his knee. He pulled his hat a little lower, spat and walked off into the night. Word was the Faceless Gang was headed up to Jepsum. As luck would have it, so was he. 

[callsignbaphomet]

1-60 for Jelani (i believe thats how u spell it omg im sorry im AWFUL w names)

Yeah, that's how you spell his name. I'm terrible with names as well, it's why I gotta keep repeating them or I'll forget lol1: What is your character's biggest fear?Migraine attacks. He gets them at random and after countless tests no one has any idea what sets them off or why. Besides the immeasurable amount of pain that can cause him to blackout, his blood pressure spikes and he gets really bad nosebleeds and what's worse is that after a migraine attack his night terrors and sleep paralysis act up even more which makes him freak out and often ends with him being sedated.After migraine attacks he's hit with some very heavy insomnia that can last a week and some odd days, which brings a whole new mess of problems and risks: the fast and erratic heartbeats, the schizophrenia-like symptoms, imbalance of hormones, memory loss, headaches, microsleeps, hallucinations and so on. The only thing that sorta helps is a chemically induced coma.2: What is your character's favorite memory?When he was a kid Loke and Alfr would always take him everywhere and would constantly play with him. Alfr was kind of like an older sibling to him. One time Loke and Alfr set out to take some supplies to another village which was a 4 day trip and they took Jelani with them. Just four days with his brother and his brother's boyfriend travelling by themselves.3: What is your character's least favorite memory?During a raid his paternal grandfather was gravely injured and as much as Jelani tried to help he still died in front of him.4: Does anyone have a crush on your character? Is your character aware of this?Currently Mason does. Jelani knows but he is not going to do anything about it. He's married.5: Describe your character's dream date.Something simple. Out to eat, find a nice and tranquil place to just talk until sunrise.6: What is your character's sexual orientation?Pansexual.7: How does your character feel about their name?What's not to like? He was named after his maternal grandfather, the name means "mighty" and it only helps to boost his already elevated ego. He probably woulda ended up being named Ragnvaldr but his dad insisted that his mom name him.8: Does your character hate anyone? Why?Lucian. Out of jealousy he turned the other celestial beings against Jelani and a whole drama started that ended in war and billions dead. TBH Jelani shoulda known better but he had a short temper back then.Hróarr. The man that killed his paternal grandfather. He became Hróarr One-Armed after Jelani and Loke crippled his arm to the point where it had to be cut off.Angelus' entire maternal family. Kinda obvious as to why.9: How does your character feel about religion?He doesn't care for it much in terms of being "really devote", not exactly his thing though he does respect it. However, he does not respect the concept of Christianity, he doesn't trust it. But he has no problem with Christians themselves as long as they don't come at him with "drop paganism it's wrong" or those that use it as an excuse for pushing forward hate.10: Would your character ever kill someone?That's practically his job. Most of the threats they face HAVE to be taken out. When he was younger he and his family were dedicated to wiping out related threats.11: How did your character meet their best friend?He was born lolJelani considers his older brother his best and closest friend.12: How would/does your character feel about roller coasters?He loves going on roller coasters! The scarier and faster and bigger the better!13: What would your character die for?His brother, husband, family and close friends.14: What is the cutest thing your character has ever done?He was too nervous to propose face to face so he grabbed Maya (Angelus' pet ferret), tied a ribbon around her neck with the ring on it and sent her to Angelus. He didn't exactly ask, Angelus kind of asked him if that's what he meant and in the shiest whisper he confirmed that that's what he meant.15: What music genre would your character listen to?Black metal, symphonic metal, death metal. Metal!16: What other fictional characters remind you of your character?I don't wanna compare any OC to other fictional characters. Sounds stupid but I really don't like that.17: Does your character have any irrational fears?Absolute darkness. Not like the night or just a dark hall. I mean absolute darkness where you can't even see your own hands in front of you.18: How would your character feel about having their life recorded?Pissed off. He likes his privacy.19: What is your character's deepest, darkest secret?Okay, tl;dr. When Morris, Loke, Jelani and Trevor got Angelus away from his abusers Angelus made Morris promise not to hurt them. Morris never did, only because he thought it would make Angelus' guilt and mental state worse.Skip to 2 centuries later and by sheer coincidence Angelus bumped into Lexington who was the most abusive towards him. Lexington just took him with him and tortured him. Why? Idk he's an abusive predator who hated his nephew more than anything else and the thought of Angelus still being alive and happy pissed him off.So after they found Angelus Jelani and Loke found out it was Lexington so Jelani went to find him. Spent a week torturing him and then killed him. He dropped what remained of Lexington at Angelus' grandmother's place and warned her that if anyone of them ever came near him again he'd personally kill her entire family in front of her and then turn her over to some Slayers.Angelus doesn't know Jelani did that. The only one who knows anything is Loke.20: What is the most surprising thing about your character?He sleeps with a nightlight on because of night terrors that he never outgrew.21: Is your character flexible?Physically? Personality wise? Not really for the first. Yeah for the second one.22: What is the worst thing your character has ever done?Started a war that ended in the deaths of millions of celestial beings, almost destroyed an empire, led to his and thousands of other's exile.23: Is your character morally gray or black or white?Gray. V E R Y gray.24: What prejudices does your character have?None. He and his brother were raised to treat others as they'd like to be treated, to treat everyone with respect, that prejudices are harmful and why, and to be honest if he had any prejudices he wouldn't have been accepted into the organization much less been made second in command or even eventually end up as first in command.25: Would you want to hang out with your character?YES!26: What is your favorite headcanon for your character?Wouldn't this make it canon? Lmao.Anyway, been playing with the idea that after his arc he begins to try to tap into his abilities which some include magic so he switches between male and female just for fun.27: What would be the worst way for your character to die?Dying knowing that his brother or husband or family or close friends were in danger but he wouldn't be able to do anything about it.28: What pet would your character like to have?He actually has a female ball python named Slinky.29: What would be your character's favorite food?Sushi.30: Would your character have any hobbies?Reading. He reads a lot. Also video games.31: What social media would your character use?Most likely Twitter and Instagram.32: What does your character look like?Cheapo rundown. Well built, very tall, long black straight hair that he's not really fond of since he feels it just sits there and looks dull as hell, blue eyes, really dark skin and has a strange mark on his lower left side that looks like a burn. It's a sigilbut he doesn't know that until his arc.33: In what ways is your character like you?Stubborn and competitive.34: What is cliche about your character?Metalhead that's really into satanic aesthetic and imagery just for the shock factor.35: What is unique about your character?I guess the fact that he is a Maker (god of all gods) of the primordial pantheon.36: Does anyone want to harm your character?So many enemies over the centuries. There's a lot of people that wanna kill 'im but Lucian NEEDS to if he plans on keeping the realm under his command.37: Do people have justified grudges against your character?Check the previous answer.38: What role does your character play in their story?He's one of the main characters.39: What would be your character's niche on Tumblr?He would probably last three minutes on Tumblr. See what a dumb mess it is and then deactivate.40: What would be your character's favorite school subject?History and science.41: Would your character want to have any children?He's thought about it but not really.42: What would be your character's dream career?He's been doing what he's been doing for so long that nothing else would be as satisfying or even worth it.43: What is your character insecure about?Not being good enough. Messing up so badly that it would cost someone their life.44: What is your character proud of?How much he has climbed within the organization. He was the top agent for centuries which landed him a place amongst the three leaders and not just any, once Morris steps down he'll leave the organization in Jelani's hands.45: What would your character change about themselves?He'd prefer to have his mother's hair. Most likely different eye color because he's had it up to here with comments like, "Oh, wow, that is so rare on someone like you."46: Would you want to trade places with your character?God, yes, you have no idea.47: What fandoms would your character be in?He wouldn't be in any fandom. He'd peak in a little bit every once in a while but he'd never go into it.48: How would your character type?On mobile he's pretty fast. Keyboard not fast but not slow either.49: How does your character stand politically?You know the side that's NOT xenophobic, racist and downright horrible unless you're a rich, straight, cisgender, white male? Yeah, that one.50: What is your favorite thing about your character?Despite the fact that he's so powerful and capable of taking care of himself in practically any scenario he still needs his older brother.51: What is your character's favorite animal?Otters.52: How would your character act in gym class?Would participate but wouldn't go all out.53: What clubs would your character join?Book club and anything to do with video games.54: What is the saddest thing about your character's life?I can't think of anything. He's one of my OCs that's had it relatively good.55: Would your character do the Ice Bucket Challenge?Why do something idiotic when you can just donate the money directly?56: What's one of your character's quirks?He's a bit of a neat freak, everything has to be clean and tidy in his apartment.57: How would your character feel about feminism?He IS one. Without it a lot of things wouldn't have happened to make life livable for many people, himself included.58: Is your character dorky or more athletic?More dorky.59: What is your least favorite thing about your character?His ego can be jarring.60: If you could title your character's life, what would you title it?Lol I couldn't think of anything.

[emmaspirate]

The Birds

A/N: Hey look! 500 years later and I’m back! Anyone still here? Thank you to @lenfaz for looking this over for me! Please forgive me for any spelling/grammatical mistakes, I rushed through this trying to get it up for you all! 

Summary: Meet Emma Swan: mother, detective, and angel. She’s just trying to get through her eternal afterlife in one piece. Naturally the universe has other plans for her. When a murder occurs in the divine community, she must enlist the help of angels and demons alike to help crack the case. Enter Killian Jones, a mysterious demon who has every intention of making Emma’s life a living hell. Angel/Demon AU. 

AO3

Chapter I/Chapter II/Chapter III/Chapter IV/Chapter V/Chapter VI

Chapter VII: Off I Go

“If you gave someone your heart and they died, did they take it with them?” - Jodi Piccolut

She was late. Of course she was late. Regina had called her maybe ten times, and Emma had ignored each of those ten calls. It wasn’t like the plane was going to leave without her.

Perks of flying on a private plane she supposed.

She’d thrown a tantrum when Hook had insisted they take his jet to London. She’d flown commercial her whole life and she didn’t see the point in changing that now. Regina had taken Hook’s side, of course. She’d said that there was no way she could handle the two of them and all the common people. Emma had then asked Regina why she was even coming, to which the Queen demon had told her someone needed to make sure they didn’t have a repeat of the Zelena incident. That had made the angel quiet.

That was how Emma found herself running through Logan Airport at six in the damn morning about to board a plane with two of her least favorite people. She also felt like she had the world’s biggest hangover, and she hadn’t even been able to enjoy the means of getting to that state. No, she’d spent about two hours scrubbing red paint (it had been paint, thank God) off her wall. She’d then spent the next two hours staring at said wall before it was time to drop Henry off at David’s. The kid could clearly tell something was off, but bless him for not asking questions.

She just wanted to take a nap for the next few years.

So it really wasn’t her fault when she was a little short with the attendant at the gate desk. The woman’s plastic smile really grated on her for some reason, probably because she figured no one should be so happy when the world was clearly going to hell. “Emma Swan?” the woman asked.

Emma sighed and adjusted her blonde curls. “Who else would it be?”

The woman continued to smile, clearly used to people’s frustration being taken out on her. “We’re all set to go. Shall I escort you to the plane?”

“No, I’d much prefer to waste some more time here for a while.” When the attendant just gave her a blank stare, Emma continued. “Lead the way.”

The human gave her a cheery nod and took her bag before Emma could say anything. The pair quickly made their way outside into the cold Boston air where a shiny jet was waiting. She rolled her eyes and pulled out a pair of black sunglasses from her purse as she climbed the steps.

Stopping suddenly, she took in the spacious interior. Regina was chattering away on her cellphone in the first row, where a large tv was mounted on the wall. Hook was a few feet back on a large white couch thumbing through a newspaper. The floors were hardwood, and there were several more spaces for sitting down. “This is a different plane.”

Hook looked up from his paper and gave her his infamous smirk. “You’re very observant this morning, aren’t you, Swan?”

Emma huffed out a breath and moved towards him. “How many planes do you have?”

His smile grew. “A few. This one happens to be my favorite.”

The angel rolled her eyes. “You have a favorite plane?”

“Yes, this one is a Gulfstream G550.”

The angel crossed her arms over her body, staring at him over the top of her sunglasses. “I don’t speak plane… or rich people, for that matter.”

Hook raised an eyebrow and ran his eyes over her form. “No, I don’t imagine you do. It has the capability to fly 6,750 nautical miles, and was one of the original jets in the ultra-long-range class.” Hook looked around the cabin with a critical expression as he added, “it’s a bit outdated at this point, I’m looking to update, but it gets the job done.”

Emma let out a low humming noise like she was following anything he was saying. “How much does it cost to run this thing?” She asked as she waved down a stewardess carrying a tray of champagne. She wouldn’t normally drink this early in the morning, but she’d already been up for several hours. There was also a time change from Boston to London, so where she was going it was later. Plus she really just needed a damn drink after the morning she’d had.

She could just say that the demons were having a negative effect on her  if all else failed.

Without any hesitation, Hook said, “About seven thousand dollars an hour.”

In all of her abundant elegance, Emma proceeded to choke on the alcohol she’d been downing and spit it all over the floor. She’d figured it’d be expensive, but she couldn’t even fathom that amount of money being blown in only a few short hours. Just how much was Hook worth?

“Can you pull it together for five minutes, Ms. Swan? Your lack of decorum is astounding,” Regina quipped from the front of the plane.

Emma curtseyed and shot the Queen a sneer as she turned back to Hook. “Seven grand? Seriously?” When Hook nodded, always smiling, she shut her eyes. “I’m going to need another drink.”

Hook, ever the gentleman, offered up his own amber alcohol. “Ask and you shall receive.” There was a hint of a challenge in his voice, daring her to take it and not expecting her to do just that.

She’d throw herself into the fiery depths of hell before she ever backed down, particularly where he was concerned. Emma took the glass from him and downed the rest of it. Rum, per usual. Placing the glass down, she took a final look around the cabin before sitting next to him, much to his apparent surprise. “I’m naming the plane Irv to cope with this,” she informed him.

It was his turn to sputter like a fish on land as the smile dropped from his face. “Absolutely not.”

Emma laughed and settled in. “I didn’t ask for your permission.”

“You are not naming my plane something as undignified as Irv! If you insist upon naming it, it needs to be something strong,” he shot back, sounding as though she’d just murdered his first born.

Emma toed off her boots, Hook’s outrage only making her more at ease. “Nah, I think I like Irv.” She pulled her legs underneath herself, sitting criss-cross on the white couch. She patted the wall of the jet and didn’t take her eyes off his face as she said, “Good old, Irv.”

“I’m also likin’ Irv,” a familiar voice called out.

Emma whipped her head around to find Will Scarlet emerging from the bathroom. She wasn’t sure why, but she was actually mildly pleased to see him. Will’s total and complete “lack of decorum”, as Regina had put it, nearly rivaled her own, and that put her at ease. “Scarlet, it’s good to see you again.”

Will did a little jig and gave her an exaggerated bow. “Milady,” he quipped as he tipped a faux hat. “Glad to see you again too. I wasn’t quite sure we’d be runnin’ into each other again, which woulda been a real shame, given how nicely we work together.” Will then proceeded to pick up two glasses of champagne from the stewardess in the back of the jet and give one to Emma. “See ya two are getting along a bit better,” he said as he looked back and forth between her and Hook, one eyebrow raised.

Emma, who had no idea what he was referring to, followed his line of sight to her and Hook’s shoulders, which were firmly pressed against one another. She hadn’t even realized the lack of space between them, and quickly shifted so that she was further away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she muttered at the same time that Hook shot, “we aren’t.”

From the front of the plane, she heard Regina snort in a decidedly un-regal way. “That was ridiculously unconvincing, especially for you Hook.”

Hook stood and shot her a glare, but chose to ignore the comment. “I’m going to go tell the pilot we’re ready to go. Everyone should get comfortable.”

Will moved into the spot Hook had just relinquished. “So, you two are gettin’ along then.”

Emma pulled off her sunglasses and rolled her eyes. “No,” she said and she heard Regina snort again. “We’ve just been spending a lot of time together, which means we have to be civil.”

Will looked at her like he wasn’t buying anything that she was saying. “Seems ya two are quite civil . He’s not all that bad lookin’.”

She stared at him in disbelief. “You and I are not seriously having this conversation, are we? I barely know you!”

Will huffed in annoyance. “You know me; we took a lovely trip to New York together.”

“Not by choice.”

“Details. Point is, we’re friends, you and I can talk about this stuff.” Will stood and moved so that he was sitting next to Regina. Not quite done with the conversation, he turned back to look at her and quickly added, “and don’t think I missed the fact that you didn’t deny he wasn’t bad lookin’,” before turning away.

If Emma could still blush she would have. Instead, she fixed her eyes forward and sipped at her champagne. Whatever rum Hook had been drinking had been good stuff, she could feel it loosening her up already.

Hook emerged from the cockpit, speak of the devil, no pun intended, and made his way back over to her. “Champagne treating you nicely, Swan?” He sat down next to her, keeping a distance between them.

Emma hummed affirmatively. “The rum wasn’t too bad either. Hopefully it’ll help me get through this flight.”

Hook looped his hands behind his head, looking quite content. “Won’t be that bad. Just take a nap and we’ll be there right quick.”

Emma froze up, her blood turning to ice in her veins. He couldn’t possibly know how much the simple prospect of falling asleep scared her, and she didn’t want him to. “I’m actually quite rested, so you know, I’ll probably just chill. Or something,” she shrugged, failing miserably at appearing nonchalant.

Hook stared at her. He stared at her for a very long time. So long, in fact, that Emma began to squirm under his gaze. She thought he’d call her out, she could tell he knew. Instead, he just nodded and gave her a tight smile. “Very well,” he said. “Do whatever it is you need to do.” With no warning he stood up from the couch and made his way to a bar in back to refill his glass.

Emma stared at him as he began to make small talk with the stewardess. The woman was clearly a demon, there was no other angelic presence on the plane other than her own. She watched the petite redhead bat her eyelashes at him and swat his arm playfully.

It shouldn’t bother her, she knew that.

But it did.

She didn’t know why. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know why either. They had both made it expressly clear that they weren’t close. She wasn’t sure she’d even call him a friend.

Emma watched the stewardess push herself up against Hook and felt her stomach twist in knots.

Tipping her champagne back into her throat, she leaned her head against the wall and closed her eyes.

Emma’s first impression of jolly old England wasn’t exactly a positive one.

Granted, she was in a pissy mood when they landed, having been hovering between sleep and wake for the last 6 hours. Everyone else had slept for the majority of the flight, but she had been too petrified of what might happen if she allowed herself to drift off. She had probably been amusing to watch, given that every half hour or so she’d find herself succumbing to sleep only to jolt up like she’d been electrocuted. Hook had caught her once, and while he’d shot her a questioning look, he still hadn’t asked.

It was raining when they landed, and while Emma assumed it was just typical London weather, she couldn’t be sure that it wasn’t her newly discovered weather party trick. Judging by the way Regina was staring at her with a judgmental look, she suspected that could be a part of it. Then again, when was Regina not shooting her a judgmental look?

She noticed the two black Range Rovers waiting for them on the tarmac as they deplaned, and turned to raise an eyebrow at Will, who was coming down the steps behind her.

“Probably Hook’s,” he shrugged, and she could tell he was as in the dark about their plan of action as she was.

Emma watched as Hook, who was leading them off the plane, made a beeline to one of the cars, where a man in a red cap was waiting. “You all remember -”

“Smee,” Emma finished for him as she stopped in front of the demon. “Nice to see you again.”

Smee didn’t even spare her a glance. “You didn’t tell me a bird was coming, Sir.”

Hook, who had been staring at Emma for the entire conversation, turned and looked at the man with unbridled outrage. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t under the impression that it was me who was reporting to you? Have you forgotten who’s in charge?”

Another demon, who had been standing off to the side, one that Emma didn’t recognize, spoke up. “Well sir, maybe if you hadn’t been wasting time in Boston we wouldn’t have forgotten.”

There was always a moment of pure and absolute calm before the chaos hit. It was a moment of silence, of peace, that Emma had yet to experience anywhere else. Whenever it happened, she felt an almost euphoric high. She was certain that was a bad thing, that it said something about her character that she felt the best when the world was at its worst. She really was a horrible angel.  

Emma felt that euphoria as she watched Hook turn to stare at the demon. It was only when she felt darkness saturate the air that she realized things were about to go horribly wrong.

Hook seemed to make a split second decision, one Emma had no time to react to, and swung out his arm, sinking his hook deep into the man’s neck. He dug in deep, making sure to twist it around before quickly pulling it out. Hook stepped back as black blood, characteristic of a demon, began to pour from his subordinate’s neck.

Emma looked on in mute horror as the demon clutched at his neck before falling to the ground, dead. She then proceeded to stare at the body for what felt like hours as Hook wiped his weapon off with a handkerchief he pulled from his back pocket.

It was Will who took it upon himself to fill in the silence. Turning to Regina he smirked and said, “I thought you were bad.”

Regina, who had been watching the whole situation unfold with apparent disinterest, hoisted her bag higher on her shoulder. “Mouth off like he did and I can assure you I’m much worse,” she replied, boredom leaking into her voice. “Shall we go.”

Emma looked up, her tranquility and subsequent shock were quickly giving way to rage. “Are you kidding me? What about the body?”

Hook stared at her, confusion and annoyance on his face. “What about it?”

Emma stared at him, exasperated at his actions over the past twenty four hours. “You can’t just leave it here! Isn’t there someone we can call? His family?”

Hook regarded her with a neutral expression. “He doesn’t have any family.”

The angel huffed in reply. “I’m sure there’s someone who cares about him.”

He smiled at her, as if he were enjoying her frustration. Maybe he just liked arguing with her. “There’s no one. Besides, anyone who has any sort of kind words to say about him, and I assure you, there are none, work for me. Considering I just killed him, people aren’t going to be lining up to attend a funeral. We’ll leave the body here, someone will dispose of it.”

Emma was about to shout at him, scream at him, ask him why he didn’t get it. Instead, she let her shoulders slump. He was clearly past reasoning with. Instead, she moved to grab the dead man’s shoulders and began to tug.

Hook did little to hide his surprise. “What are you doing?”

Emma didn’t look up from her task. She pulled the body along the asphalt easily; her angelic strength making the bulky man seem light as a feather. “You made it clear that anyone who is afraid of you isn’t going to do anything,” she spat.

He was evidently still confused. “Aye, so what are you doing?”

Emma looked up to meet his gaze. “Doing something.”

Whatever he’d been expecting, it hadn’t been that. His face shifted into a sneer, and he grabbed her by the shoulder, yanking her upright. His hand remained squeezing her shoulder as he whispered, “You seem to be under the idiotic assumption that there’s a way to skirt around violence in this world. I don’t know how things work in the world of birds, but let me clear something up for you, for us,” Hook looked at Regina, Will, and Smee. “Killing is a necessity. If you don’t assert your dominance, you die. If you show weakness, you die. If you allow people to tread on you in any way shape or form, you die. Get it?”

Emma shook him off. He clearly hadn’t learned that she wasn’t one to be easily deterred. That, and she absolutely despised being talked down to. “I may not be as old as you, but I’m not stupid. I know about the ins and outs of the ethereal world, and believe me , things aren’t sunshine and lollipops on the other side of the fence either. I know it’s kill or be killed. Doesn’t mean you need to enjoy it. Doesn’t mean that you can’t feel bad about ending a life.”

Hook stepped back, and it was one of those rare instances where he seemed unsure. “You don’t know what kind of person he was,” he muttered.

He was right, there was no denying it. But so was she, and so she asked, “Do you? Do you know who his parents were, because at some point he had them. Do you know if he had siblings? Maybe a dog? Hell, he could’ve been married. Do you know the answers to any of those questions? He was a person before you decided he was nothing.” Emma paused. She usually liked to attribute behavior like this to her angelic side, but this was different. This was different and she wanted him to see that. “If it were you what would you want?” She knew what his answer would be before he even said it, but she tried anyway.

Sure enough, he didn’t disappoint. “I don’t deserve -��

She interrupted him. “Look I know you’ve done some messed up stuff, but your crippling self-hatred aside, what would you want?” She needed him to know that this wasn’t just about this specific man. This was about any loss of life and the tragedy it symbolized. She needed him to know that even for people like him, people like her, there would at least be someone to take care of things at the very end. “I’m burying him.”

Emma went back to dragging the body across the tarmac, trying to get to the grass a little ways away. She watched as the black blood smeared against the pavement and, whether it was her doing or not, she was grateful for the rain. She wasn’t sure how long it would take for his body to lose its ethereal power, and become similar to that of a normal human. At the very least she knew it would decompose eventually. She was so lost in thought that she didn’t even hear him approaching.

His voice was so quiet that even she had to strain to hear him. She didn’t think he whispered out of shame, but rather so that she would be the only one who could hear. “I cannot be seen as weak.”

Emma let the body fall for a moment as she straightened up to really look at him. There was something in his face that looked apologetic, but she had a sense it was more for her sake than his. She knew what he thought of her. That she was perfect, a beacon of moral behavior. The fallen all thought that about angels, that they had no spine and had never experienced true struggle, because if they had surely they would’ve embraced the dark. So Emma met his eyes and allowed her voice to drop into a whisper as well. “There are worse things than that.”

He didn’t say anything this time, and for that she was grateful. Hook looked on as she made her way to the edge of the tarmac, being careful to avoid the blood on the ground. God forbid he get his shoes dirty. Come to think of it, they were probably worth more than Emma’s life.

The angel laid the dead demon carefully on the wet earth. Her boots dug ever so slightly into the mud, and she was grateful the ground was soft; it would make digging easier.

“You don’t have a shovel,” Hook remarked ever so helpfully.

Emma gave him an exasperated look. “Thank you, for that wonderful observation. Nothing gets past you, does it? I’ll just use my hands.”

It was his turn to look put out. She half expected him to chastise her in his usual patronizing tone, but instead he moved past her towards the body. With no explanation, he pulled out the handkerchief he’d used earlier to wipe the blood off his hook. It was stained a dark black color. He looked over at her expectantly. “Go on then,” he commanded.

Emma was absolutely sure he had lost it. Regina had warned her before she’d met him that he was unhinged. “What?”

Hook looked at her like he was amazed she remembered how to breath. “Set it alight,” he said like it was the most obvious thing.

“What?” Emma repeated.

He let his arm drop for a moment. “Set the damn thing alight. I’m not going to have you rolling about in the mud; you’ll get the car dirty, so we’ll just burn the body.”

Emma quirked an eyebrow. “You want to cremate him?” She asked slowly.

Hook nodded, seemingly pleased she was finally getting the point, or, maybe he was just happy he’d come up with the idea. Probably the latter. “And since heat and light are your kind’s area of expertise,” he explained as he dangled the handkerchief in front of her face once more.

There was something in his eyes, an almost earnest look, that kept her from arguing with him. He seemed to be trying to appease her, in his own unique way. He was trying to understand where she was coming from, and while there were still issues between them, she wouldn’t ignore the gesture. So, with a pronounced eye-roll, she twitched her fingers and the cloth went up in flames.

Hook quickly tossed it onto his former employee’s body, and soon enough his cotton t-shirt also caught fire. “Satisfied?”

Emma watched as the fire quickly worked its way up the demon’s body. Emma’s magic was strong, so the rain did little to dampen the flames. She didn’t meet his eyes as she croaked out a “yes,” before turning and marching back towards Regina and Will. “Let’s go,” she called.

The angel hadn’t realized the rain had picked up until Regina was staring at her pissed and soaking. “What? You two don’t want to continue your little melodrama? Perhaps we should go roast marshmallows over his burning body and sing Kumbaya!”

“I told you to wait in the car,” Will muttered under his breath, but it was loud enough for Regina to hear, and she shot him a withering look.

“You work for me, Scarlet, so I’d be careful what you say next.”

Emma pushed past the two of them. “Let’s just go to the hotel,” she called as she yanked the car door open.

From behind her, Regina let out a sharp laugh. “Ms. Swan, I wasn’t under the impression that you were staying at the hotel with us.”

Emma paused and maybe it was the exhaustion, but Regina’s words weren’t making any sense. “What are you talking about?”

The Queen smirked at her and Emma was briefly reminded of those girls who used to make fun of her in high school for wearing the same thing everyday. “I wasn’t aware you could afford to stay at Claridge’s, and on such short notice too. I guess they’re paying Boston PD better than I assumed.”

Emma was in front of Regina in, literally, a flash, rage flooding her veins as the demon’s words clicked. “You didn’t book me a damn hotel room? Anywhere?!”

Regina stepped forward to meet her, still maintaining her superior facade. “I’m not your personal assistant, Ms. Swan. It’s not my job to find you accommodations.”

Emma let out a disbelieving laugh and as she readied herself to give Regina the smackdown she deserved, but Hook was in between them before she could.

“No reason to go at it ladies,” he purred in a voice Emma suspected was usually reserved for getting human’s to do his bidding.

“Can’t say I’m surprised really. Ms. Swan’s complete and utter inability to show any degree of competency is all too familiar at this point.”

Emma reared up, but this time Hook physically restrained her. “Let me kick her ass,” Emma argued, and she knew she could probably get away from him, but she stopped herself for the moment.

Hook moved so that his lips were at her ear, his head turned away from Will and Regina. “Not worth it, Swan, as much as I wouldn't mind seeing that. Just go get in the car.”

She felt his grip loosen and she debated just lunging at Regina. She didn't want to do any permanent damage, obviously, Henry would be pissed, but she wouldn’t mind smacking her upside the head. Nevertheless, she heeded Hook’s words and slowly backed towards the car. She was sure she looked childish, but she kept her eyes on Regina, and it took everything in her not to do the “I’m-watching-you” sign.

Emma waited impatiently in the Range Rover, her knee bouncing up and down as Hook exchanged words with Regina and Will. Smee was in the driver’s seat, watching her with calculating eyes in the rearview mirror.

“I don’t like you,” he said suddenly.

She didn’t turn to meet his gaze. “How will I live?” She replied dryly.

Smee turned around in his seat so that he was facing her head on. They then proceeded to engage in a staring contest for a good minute and a half before he spoke again. “I don’t like you, and I don’t like whatever is going on between you and my leader, but, all that aside, I respect you.” Emma’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion as the little demon continued. “I respect you for what you did for Hank.”

Emma nodded, suddenly understanding. “He’s the one who died?”

Smee faced forward again, not saying anything. “I don’t like you, but I respect you.”

Emma wasn’t quite sure what to say, and judging by what she could see of Smee’s facial expression in the mirror, she sensed the conversation was over. So, instead she said, “Tell me something, because I’m curious, how do your tiny little legs even reach the gas pedal in this thing?”

Smee smiled.

She was in his house.

When he’d informed her all too casually that she’d stay at his place, she’d vehemently rejected the idea. They’d been blurring the imaginary line she’d drawn between them since Lily’s, and now he was proposing they just skip right over it. She wasn’t sure when he’d decided to throw all the rules out the window, but she wasn’t about to allow it.

He kindly told her that she could spend the night on a bench in Hyde Park if she wanted, since she had no other options. She’d almost done that, but it was still raining pretty heavily and she wasn’t in the mood to be both exhausted and soaking.

So now she was in his fucking house.

It was a beautiful home, although she’d expect nothing less from Mr. “I’m-looking-to-expand-my-fleet-of-private-jets-because-my-current-one-is-too-small.” He lived in Kensington in a big white terraced house, well, technically, four white terraced houses that were all connected. He owned the entire block. Which was completely normal and average and she was handling it all very well.

By very well she meant she was not handling it at all, at all.

Granted, she knew that Regina liked luxury, but she was quickly discovering that was apparently a characteristic of creatures of the dark. The property wasn’t what she would’ve expected for a demon, and, more specifically, for him. It was a very bright space, with floor to ceiling windows and white walls. Every room that she’d been in had a massive fireplace, and various trinkets that he must’ve collected over the years were scattered about the house. She couldn’t imagine how much that stuff was worth.

It did, however, feel a lot like a museum. The place lacked a warmth that she’d come to recognize in most homes. In fact, it was oddly reminiscent of Lily’s apartment save for the difference in opulence. There were no photos, nothing was out of place, and the entire house was the temperature of a morgue. Someone existed in this space, but it wasn’t truly lived in. “When was the last time you were here?” Emma asked as she stared at a painting hanging above the fireplace in one of the sitting rooms. It was an odd piece, a bunch of different colored blobs spread out on a canvas. She did her best to ignore the name scribbled in the bottom right corner, because, if it had truly been painted by him, it likely cost upwards of a million dollars.

Hook, who had been standing in the hallway texting someone, entered the room. “Couldn’t tell you. I spend most of my time in and out of hotels on business,” he called from behind her. The demon paused, and she could practically feel the smirk forming on his face. “Or pleasure.”

Emma rolled her eyes and moved to run her finger across a golden telescope on the mantle. “What is it that you do?”

“I’m an investor,” Hook said much too quickly. Emma turned to see him standing there, scratching at his ear, looking incredibly uncomfortable.

It was her turn to smile. “For someone who pretends to be as confident as you do, you sure don’t like to talk about yourself.”

He shifted back and forth on the balls of his feet. “Let me show you to your room, I already had your bag put upstairs.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

Hook shot her a disbelieving look. “Nonsense, Swan. It was the least I could do,” he said before he exited the room.

She was certain his mood changes were going to give her whiplash one of these days. Pulling her purse higher on her shoulder, she followed him down the hallway. With each room they passed, she made sure to peek inside where doors were open. Maybe something in them would finally clue her in as to what game he was playing. They made their way to the end of the hall, and he slowly began to make his way up a staircase.

“That,” he pointed to a painting hanging above the stair landing. “Was done by my brother.”

Emma stopped walking and felt the breath rush out of her lungs. It seemed to have been off-hand comment, but Hook never struck her as the type to give up personal details. “You have a brother?” She whispered.

Hook didn’t meet her eyes, and he tensed up as he seemingly realized that he had just revealed something deeply personal about himself. “I had a brother,” he breathed.

The middle of the stairs wasn’t really the ideal place to be having this conversation, but she couldn’t drop it. “What happened to him?” Their voices were so low they weren’t audible to human ears.

Hook gave her a tight smile and looked up at the painting. “The same thing that happens to all of them.”

It all made sense to her then. Why he was so blunt about Henry’s fate on that first plane ride, why he promised David to keep her safe at Lily’s, even when he insisted that he would never hurt her brother. She had known that he’d probably experienced loss during his many years, they all had at one point or another, but this was different. He’d had a brother. “You know firsthand how fragile humans are,” she reiterated, more to herself than him.

“I wasn't talking about humans,” he replied, interrupting her train of thought. Without another word he turned and walked the rest of the way up the stairs.

Emma paused, trying to make sense of his words. Realizing that he was moving very quickly down the hallway, and that she didn’t want to get lost in his gigantic house, she raced after him. “What do you mean? Who were you talking about?” She shouted.

He stopped abruptly in front of a door on the right and she almost bumped into him. He didn’t speak as he produced a key from his back pocket and shoved it into the door. Swinging it open he looked pointedly at her as he said, “I was talking about the good.”

Emma stared at the ceiling.

There was a tiny crack in the crown molding in the far right corner. Directly above her there was a dark smudge and the paint was slightly chipped, as though someone had thrown something up there. The chandelier, which had probably been connected to a gas line, had six white bulbs, one of which appeared to be slightly loose.

She’d knew all this because she’d been staring at it for nearly six hours, having completely familiarized herself with the layout of the room. It was a beautiful space, with big, ornate looking couches and a large four-poster white bed that was the most comfortable thing she’d laid on in a long time. If only she could fall asleep.

It was three in the damn morning, and she was wide awake.

She was just trying to do her civic duty and make sure that she didn’t murder anyone while she slept. Such a good Samaritan. Letting out a sigh, she swung her legs out of the bed and stood up. If she was forced to stay awake she might as well poke around a bit. She was sure Hook would object to it, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

Emma allowed light magic to pour through her hand, using it as a makeshift flashlight to guide her way down the hallway. She was surprised at how many paintings lined the wall; she wouldn’t have pegged him as an art snob. A vast majority were nautically themed, and she vaguely wondered if perhaps he’d been a sailor at some point in his life. Moving quickly through the darkness, she made her way over the stairwell, and creeped down slowly. She wasn’t sure what part of the house his bedroom was in, and she didn't want to risk waking him up. When she reached the bottom floor, she proceeded to wander around aimlessly, occasionally pausing to examine some sort of bauble. Eventually, she found her way into the kitchen, which she could only assume from the quiet, but familiar, hum of a refrigerator. Emma decided that perhaps she’d indulge in a late night snack, at the very least she could try and find his undoubtedly expensive stash of alcohol. She felt along the wall, searching for a light switch. Angels heightened senses were dulled ever so slightly in the dark, so it took her a little longer than usual. After what felt like an eternity, she finally found it, smiling as she flicked it on.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Hook called.

Emma shot up and let out a startled yelp. He was leaning against the kitchen counter wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt with an amused expression on his face. She closed her eyes and tried to get her heartbeat under control as she muttered, “Don’t do that.”

Hook held up his hand and hook in mock surrender. “I figured you knew I was here.”

Emma’s shoulders sagged as she finally calmed down. She made her way over to the nearest cabinet, undeterred in her hunt for food. “Yeah, well I didn’t.” Pausing, she looked over her shoulder at him. “Is it possible that I could be growing used to your presence? We have been spending an inordinate amount of time together.”

Hook chuckled quietly. “Perhaps. I haven't spent enough time with your kind to know if that’s a thing that occurs.”

The angel nodded and opened the cupboard, annoyed to find it empty. She quickly moved on to the refrigerator to find it equally as barren. “What the hell?” She shot Hook an annoyed look, demanding an explanation.

“Why would I stock my house with foods I can’t eat?” He shrugged and took a sip of rum out of a glass Emma hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

Emma huffed and moved so that she was leaning against the counter next to him. “You can still eat food, you just can't really taste all that much of it. It’s good to keep up with the habit.”

Hook twirled the glass around in his hand, so that the amber liquid spun at the bottom. “Yes, well, I don’t have anyone living with me who would need access to human food, nor do I have any need maintain that habit. Rum, on the other hand, has proven to still be a necessity.”

The angel paused, unsure how to respond. Smirking, she plucked the glass from his hand and hoisted herself up onto the counter, so that she was now sitting on it. “Were you a sailor?”

Hook’s head whipped around quickly to look at her. “Why do you ask?”

Emma placed the glass against her lips. “You have a lot of pictures of boats, and, well, there’s your affinity for rum,” she pointed out before tipping the liquid into her mouth.

Hook looked away from her. “I suppose you could say that,” he replied. There was a long silence, as he appeared to be debating with himself, and then, “my brother and I were in the Royal Navy.”

She nearly choked on her drink. “You were what?” She was surprised at how much she was discovering about him over the course of a few hours. Emma had no idea what had prompted him to open up, but she wasn’t about to tell him to stop.

He gave her a tight smile and swallowed nervously, still not meeting her gaze. “Aye, he was Captain of a ship in the Queen’s Navy, The Jewel of the Realm. I was Lieutenant.”

Emma couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her at the thought of him wearing a navy uniform. “You were a lieutenant in the Navy?”

He finally looked over at her, and while he looked affronted, he was smiling. “And a damn good one at that. Does that surprise you, Swan?”

Emma let out a very unladylike snort. “No, of course not. You, in the Navy, that’s exactly what I would expect given what I know about you.” Her amusement was short-lived, however, as a new thought popped into her head. He couldn’t have been older than thirty when he died, and she knew that six hundred years ago they probably enlisted them young, but there was a good chance that’s how he’d met his end. “Did you die while you were serving?”  

Hook paused, and she was sure he wasn’t going to tell her anything else. Instead, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Quickly, so quickly the words blurred together, he gave her his answer. “I was born in 1350, right at the beginning of what’s now commonly referred to as the Hundred Years War. My brother and I joined the Navy when we were teenagers, and worked our way up from there. In 1372 I fought in the Battle of La Rochelle, it was a huge navy battle and we were slaughtered. That’s when I lost my hand.” He stopped then, drawing in another breath.

She could tell this was where things were about to take a turn. Without thinking, she reached forward and grabbed his hand, which was curled into a fist. She held on until he loosened up just enough so that she could intertwine their fingers together. Giving him a reassuring squeeze, she waited until he was ready to continue.

“Western Europe was in complete and total chaos. The Black Death had wiped out a large part of the population, and taxes were high because of the war. The peasants were hit the hardest, as they always are, and they decided to take action. They rebelled and tried to kill anyone they thought was associated with the royal government. I thought,” he cut himself off then, sighing heavily. “Liam, my brother, told me that it was our duty to protect those under our care, the very same people that were being targeted. He died trying to save as many people as he could. I was turned into this.”

Hook didn’t say anything, and Emma started rubbing circles on the back of his hand with her thumb. She was having trouble processing his words, the sheer magnitude of what he was telling her weighing heavy on her heart. To lose your life and your humanity was one thing, but to lose the only family you had was an entirely different ballgame. She wanted to know when he’d become a demon, but she recognized now wasn’t the time. So instead she asked the most important question she had. “Why are you telling me all this?”

He finally looked at her, and he really looked. There was something else in his eyes too, a softness that she’d never seen there prior to this moment. He cocked his head and, in spite of it all, he smirked at her. “What you said a while back, in Regina’s office, about not being able to trust me; it shouldn’t have bothered me.” The smile dropped from his face as his tone became deadly serious. “It shouldn’t have, but it did. I’m not pretending to be a good person, and I’m not saying you should, but I’d like you to feel that you can trust me.”

Emma had completely forgotten she’d even said that. She mulled over his words, and she knew he wasn’t expecting a response, but she found she wanted to give him one. “Hey, I know what I said, but I do trust you, Hook. When push comes to shove, I know you’ve got my back. Believe it or not, you’re one of the few people that I feel comfortable opening up to.” She paused then, and this time she was the one smiling. “But lay a hand on my brother again, and I’m gonna have to kill you.”

Hook rewarded her with a laugh. “Understood and respected.”

Seeking to change the subject, she asked, “Are you ready for tomorrow?”

Hook bristled visibly. “I don’t think I’ll ever be ready for an encounter with Mr. Supremely Delusional, but I also reckon I don’t have much of a choice. See what you drag me into,” he tacked on with a very forced smile.

“You two know each other?”

It was becoming quite apparent this was a subject he wasn’t interested in discussing, but he humored her nonetheless. “We’ve bumped into each other a few times, none of our encounters ended very well. He used to have a working relationship with the man who taught me my mind trick.”

It took Emma a moment to understand what he was referring to, and when she finally grasped that he was talking about his ability to inflict mental torture, she was understandably surprised. “Someone taught you that skill?”

Hook grimaced. “Aye, Love, even the most skilled protege needs a teacher. He was a nasty demon, very powerful. I can’t overstate that. He saw something in me, I guess, and took me under his wing. Taught me everything I know, although I’m not sure why. He never did anything like that again, as far as I know.”

“What happened?”

She didn’t really know what she expected, only that whatever had happened had clearly been bad.  

The demon’s jaw flexed and his expression shifted into one Emma had never seen before. “We had a falling out, the details of which are unimportant. It’s a story for another time.” With that, he sent a clear message; the conversation was over. Maybe not forever, but at least for now.

She was never one to be forthcoming with sentiment, but he’d told her a lot, and it only seemed fair to give him something. Emma knew she shouldn’t tell him. She shouldn’t tell anyone. Yet, she’d just said herself that she trusted him, and for some strange reason she believed it. She knew that he wouldn’t tell anyone else, that he wouldn’t give her up. They weren’t friends, not really, but they understood each other. It was that mutual understanding that prompted her to say, “I had another dream, or, memory. That’s what they are; memories.” She was sure of that now, that she was reliving moments from some past life she couldn’t remember. “I met this homeless guy in New York when I came to find you, and I just gave him some money but he seemed to recognize me. Then he cropped up in my dream except he was just a kid and I was wearing some weird 1960’s-esque outfit which is odd because that would mean-“

“That you were having a memory from the 1960’s,” Hook interrupted. He was nodding slowly to himself, seemingly lost in thought.

Emma shook her head vehemently, not wanting it to be true.“But that’s not possible because I wasn’t alive during the 1960’s. Then I woke up and I was covered in dirt and I’d written on my wall in red paint Nesir Sah Roivas Eht.” Every time she closed her damn eyes she kept seeing that message. It was killing her that she didn’t know what it meant; Hook, Regina, and Google Translate had all confirmed that it wasn’t written in a foreign language, so what the hell was it?

“The message we keep seeing at all the crime scenes.”

Emma rolled her eyes and let out a humorless laugh.“Yes, thank you for reiterating all of these things,” she muttered before continuing. “So now I’m scared to close my eyes because what if I’m the one doing all this, what if I’m the killer?”

Hook turned to look at her, and he seemed genuinely concerned. “When was the last time you slept?”

The question, not in line with the rest of the conversation, took her off guard.“What?”

“When was the last time you slept, and I mean a good, hard, restful sleep? That’s what you need.”

Emma scoffed. “Did you not just hear what I was saying?”

She hadn’t realized that they were still holding hands, that she was clutching onto him like a life line, until he was tugging her off the counter. “Come on then,” he commanded as he dragged her down the hallway.

“Where are we going?”

“To your room,” he answered like it was obvious.

Emma stopped walking, he wasn’t listening. “Hook-“

He interrupted her by giving a sharp tug. “I will sit on the chair and watch you to make sure you don’t do anything psychotic,” he explained quickly.  

Emma raised an eyebrow, voice dropping with disbelief. “You’re going to watch me sleep?”

“In a very non-creepy way, of course.” He gave her a patronizing smile as he quickly added, “I’ll make sure you don’t murder anyone.”

With that the two headed the rest of the way up the stairs, Emma still confused at his ever shifting moods. She knew she wasn’t useful without any sleep, and she was loathe to admit that having him there might finally be enough to get her to rest. At least then she wouldn’t be so damn afraid of herself.

He dropped her hand when they entered her room, and she was surprised by the sudden coldness she felt at the lack of touch. She watched as he made his way over to one of the couches in the corner, and she hadn’t realized how uncomfortable they looked until now.“You can sit on the bed,” she muttered as she herself got under the covers.

It was Hook’s turn to be surprised. “What?” The disbelief in his voice was almost comical.

“You can sit on the bed.” She didn’t like the idea of him literally studying her while she slept, and with him on the couch that’s very much what it felt like. However, she also realized it would be breaking a lot of the boundaries that had been set up between them, so she added, “It’s a very big space, we won’t have to touch or anything, and you can stay on top of the covers. It’ll be more comfortable… for you.”

Hook smiled, seemingly on to her. “If you’re scared you can just tell me, Swan.”

“I’m not scared.” She was. She didn’t want him to know that, obviously, but he read her like an open book, so it wasn’t hard for him to figure out she was lying.

He didn’t call her out, the gentleman that he was. “Of course not.” Hook positioned himself so that he was sitting up against the headboard on top of the covers. His eyes scanned the room before landing on her, a lazy smirk on his face.

She would never admit it to him, but he really was beautiful, particularly when he wasn’t being insufferable. Suddenly, she was exhausted, the weight of the past few days slamming into her like a freight train. She couldn’t explain why his presence made her feel more at ease, she only knew that her eyes were finally drifting closed. “Goodnight, Killian.”

All she heard was a sharp intake of breath and a soft “Goodnight, Emma,” before sleep claimed her.  

[agentdagonet]

Echoes, Ch. 7

can’t believe I forgot to put the last 2 chapters of Echoes up here. Seeing as I’m about to upload chapter 9, I’ll put 7 and 8 up beforehand. Thanks for sticking around, guys!

Find it here on AO3

Find it here on tumblr:  1 2 3 4 5 6

Fic Summary: Feet dangling off the edge of the bed, hands still resting on the earpieces of his glasses, Eggsy opened his eyes.

         And promptly shut them again, screwing them shut like a child who had the distinct misfortune of biting into a raw lemon. Breathing harshly in his nose and out his mouth, trying to stave off whatever delusional panic had befallen him, Eggsy reopened his eyes.

‘Harry?’

Or: The Hologram Story Nobody Asked For

         Eggsy had spent the weeks following the Hologram Incident trying to go back to the way things had been before it. Sure there were things missing in the house now, a few knick-knacks and paintings- the most notable loss was that picture of a demon-looking thing by the kitchen which Eggsy was only too happy to part with. Mr. Pickle was one thing, he had a sentimental excuse, but the demon-thing (he didn't even want to give it a name. When you name something, you want to keep it- no way Eggsy was going down that slope) had put Eggsy off from eating more than once after tough missions.              

         He didn't wear the glasses inside, changed from his suits as soon as he was able, locked everything back up tightly in the wall, and moved on. It's what Harry would have wanted.              

         Except he couldn't put Holo-Harry from his mind. He'd wanted Eggsy to have something of him than those few periods they'd had together that hadn't involved Eggsy reading to an unresponsive body. What had he meant by that? What was hiding in those hard drives that Harry had wanted him to have? As curious as he was, he knew that now was not the time. He was still mourning him, he was still reeling from the loss of him, and to go and peruse his private files... Eggsy was just about positive it would break him, to learn more about Harry than he had already known. If this was how shattered he was from losing a near-stranger how much more painful would it be to have lost a friend?      

         It's a unique situation, to be able to learn more about someone you already felt connected to after they had died, but it wasn't one Eggsy thought he could get through. Not yet.              

         So he snatched up every mission he had the opportunity to bid for. He kept himself busy, out of the house, away from his mum and Daisy; he kept himself from thinking too deeply about anything other than completing the mission at hand and getting out alive. Of course, these things weren't meant to last, and soon enough Eggsy had broken his left arm and was forced out of the field for just over a month barring emergencies.

         'You can't be serious- the fuck am I supposed to do here for a month?!'                        'You could always catch up on your reports- last I heard Merlin was ready to break a limb himself if it would get you to write them up.' The words were muffled in the way only holding a pen cap between your teeth can make them, but they needn't be perfectly clear for Eggsy to hear the smile in her voice. Roxy had a sharpie in one hand, Eggsy's arm in the other, held at such an angle that he had no idea what she was doing with the former of the two.         

         'That's exactly what I'm gonna do, yeah? Out of commission so I'm gonna write about all those times I actually did the job without fucking up. Cheerful.' It's bitter, but he chuckles anyway. In his haste to get in and out of his (Harry's) house he hadn't bothered to sit down and type up his reports. 'Why do they need me to write 'em down anyway? They was there and there's recordin's and shit why torture us with paperwork?'              

         'Just because we're not affiliated with any government doesn't mean that we're without governing, Eggsy.' She'd spit the cap out, now, her tongue sticking out slightly in concentration, 'But I also think they're a bit mad you've been doing so much. There's policies about working too much, you know, and if it weren't for the world still being a relative wreck from V-Day you'd have passed them long ago.'              

         'I don't see you getting corrected for bein' out on assignment so much.' This was the first time they'd had more than an hour together since the Hologram Incident- not that Roxy knew anything about that. He didn't know how to put it into words- and he highly doubted Merlin was off telling Roxy about all his personal time outside of HQ. Still, the point remained: Roxy had been just as busy as Eggsy had been, she wasn't one to talk.              

         'That's probably because I do what they ask the first time, Eggsy.' She nods to herself, taking a picture on her phone before capping the sharpie. 'Anyway, I'm off for the next two days- you up for a night in tomorrow? I'll bring pizza, you grab beer, we'll Netflix a shitty film?'              

         'Yeah, alright.'

-----

         'Hey, mum.' Eggsy kissed her on the cheek before swooping down to do the same to his sister; if he was gonna be grounded for the next month he was going to use the time to catch up with his family. No better use for it.

         'Surprised to see you 'round, sweetheart- it's been a while.' She continued to stir the pot, but nods him towards the place at the table he sets up every time. It was autopilot, and luckily he was over often enough for dinner to warrant the muscle memory, though he often arrived more injured than the last time she'd seen him.              

         'Yeah, sorry 'bout that- they had me travelling from posh place to posh place picking up fabric- got this blue silk in that would look lovely on you, mum.'

         'Oh none of that tripe here, love. Forge' about work and enjoy a nice dinner with your family. Just cos you've got your own place and a fancy job doesn't mean you can' come back home and relax, babe.'

         Dinner itself was uneventful, on the whole; Eggsy made sure Daisy ate all her food and didn't feed it all to her imaginary dragon, Spots. Cute as the notion was, the mess was not fun to clean up, so Eggsy was sure to act out leaving some food for Spots in the living room before they actually began eating. The evening settled down when Daisy tuckered out, Eggsy brought her to bed and read her a story about knights and dragons (she had an unnatural obsession with dragons for her age), and now the two adults were sat on the couch with mugs of hot chocolate.              

         There was something to be said about the little things.              

         'Had someone come 'round about your dad, called himself Merlin.' Eggsy didn't want to have this conversation now. Actually, he wasn't certain that he wanted to have this conversation ever but this was his mum and there was no way he was getting out of this.              

         'Oh?'              

         'Don't play dumb, Eggsy; there's only so many people in the world who would willingly introduce themselves as Merlin- I know he's your boss.’

         ‘Yeah, well, forgive me if this is all new territory- I never really expected you to meet. Let alone in those kind of circumstances.’

         ‘So you knew he was coming, then? Pretty out of nowhere.’

         'You can’t plan finding someone’s Will when you didn’t think one existed, mum. And I wasn’ gonna drag up the past- not after you just getting through everything else.’

         ‘You knew what happened to your dad and you didn’t tell me?’

         ‘Yeah; I mean it’s not like I could just pop up and say “hey, mum, I know how dad died!” cos you’d have asked how I found out and it woulda been a mess. Never you mind that Dean literally tried to kill me the day I found out and only stopped cos of that voice saying he was gonna tell the police. Never felt like an okay time to tell you, after that.’ Eggsy shrugged; he couldn't meet her eye, not with that between them.

         ‘I- well... you still shoulda told me.’

         ‘Why, to get you all depressed all over again right as you were getting through this? I remember what you were like right after dad died. I wasn’t gonna subject Daisy to that.’

         ‘I did my best, Eggsy!’

         ‘You let dads death eat you up inside so deeply that you forgot my birthday and I had to go and make myself somethin’ sweet cos I wanted my birthday to be like before. Twice.’ Michelle had no response to that, looked down at her lap and wrung her hands trying to think of a way to show Eggsy she had been trying. ‘I know it was hard, mum, but it was like you forgo’ all about how your decisions were affecting me after that. I don’t blame you now, but it weren’t fun either and I wasn’t gonna let Daisy go through something like that if I could help it. So no, I wasn’t gonna tell you.’

         ‘Well I know now. And I haven’t ended up like that.’ She’s justifying the past and defending the present all in one go. Or trying to, at least.

         ‘And I don’t think I’ve been more grateful to the universe in all my life.’

         ‘... So he also mentioned his friend.’ It's said casually, overly casually, and Eggsy was immediately on alert. This wasn't gonna end well.

         ‘The one who died?’ Maybe if he acts disinterested she'll let it go.

         ‘Yeah; said his name, too’ Oh no. ‘Said his name was Harry an’ doesn’t that sound familiar.’

         ‘Mum, do you really want to talk about this now?'

         'Yeah, I do- why're you so banged up about his friend's death that you're still needing nights with Roxy? I love her, don' get me wrong, but it feels like every time you both are over she ends up holdin' you while you cry.' She may not have been there for him before but she sure as hell was going to be there now. If it wasn't already too late.              

         'Yeah, well I don't want to talk about this.' C'mon Michelle, you can do this.              

         'Tha's just too bad, Eggsy, cos I got the feeling you need to talk abou' it. I'm not letting this slide, love, it's been over a year-'              

         'Yeah well it certainly took you longer than tha' to pull yourself together after dad so sorry if I'm not over his death yet.'              

         'I-' She looked contrite, one hand extended as if to offer comfort, but Eggsy didn't want anyone touching him right then. He's never good about tactile comfort in times of stress. Dean left a pretty deep scar over the whole touching thing.              

         'I'm heading out, mum. I'll see you next week, maybe.' She'd pushed him too far, too soon.

         Michelle covered her mouth with one hand, stifling a sob as the door clicked shut behind him.

[christianmenatwork]

No When-Then or Coulda-Woulda-Shoulda-Selah26-CMAW097

S = Something on My Heart

See 8/16 Pastor Adam Cook message from Union Church on the Power of saying Thanks https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pAcuskM-0nY.  I've spoken on this podcast before about the importance of being grateful to God about all of life but particularly as it relates to your heart while you're working.  I've talked about how work is a gift from God, how work is so important to God that it's the first thing he did after creating Adam and Even was to give them something to do. Work is inherently good and something we should be thankful for, and not just thankful for the money that it produces, though that should be part of what we're grateful for.  Pastor brought some fresh insight from his sermon that I wanted to pass along and add my own additional thoughts as well.  I'll provide a link for this sermon in the show notes.  First of all, Pastor Adam said that gratitude is not a one-time "Thank You" but a mindset and a way of seeing the world.  Probably the most often referenced scripture about giving thanks is 1 Thess 5:16-18, in the NIV version says "Rejoice alaways, pray continuously, give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus".  One thing I like about this verse is that it specifically says being thankful is God's will.  I know I often struggle with wondering what God's will is for me and my life, and I think it's a good practice to particularly note verses that connect our actions to God's will.  Being grateful is one of those things that you dont' just hear about in the Christian world, people with all different belief systems talk about the power of having an attitude of gratitude.  You hear it in self help books, on motivational posters in the workplace, and on social media memes.  If you think about it, other than thanking another person for something they've done specifically, having an overall attitude of gratitude doesn't make a whole lot of sense unless you worship a God who has the abliity and has proven to have chosen to be a giver, a giver of all the good things in life.  Pastor Adam suggests 2 ways we can be grateful.  The first is to eliminate when/then thinking.  This is all about being present and being grateful for and appreciating and enjoying where we are right now, rather than longing for something that may happen in the future, or for something we had in the past.  It's easy for us to point fingers at the Children of Israel who complained about only having manna to eat int he wilderness and longing for when they were slaves in Egypt and had other food to eat.  The reality is I have been guilty of this type of thinking my whole adult life to different degrees and at different times, in my personal life and my professional life.  If I talked to my Mom when growing up about something that I should have done in the past or something that might have been, she would wisely respond "Oh shoulda-woulda-coulda".  With my own kids, I've more often tried to pass along in a similar situation the wise advice that they should do as Boston says and "Don't Look Back".  We can all think of things we don't like about our work.  That's easy.  What takes effort is to purposely focus on the good in our work. There's the income, of course, but there's also the feeling of satisfaction for a job well done, the opportunity to interact and collaborate with others on a common goal, the chance to sharpen our skills and get better, it provides a sense of purpose, and ig gives us unique opportunties to share our faith with others and to just love on them.  Psalm 118:24, in NKJV says "This is the day the Lord has made.  We will rejoice and be glad in it".  As my Pastor said, we should thank God not just for what He did, but for what He is doing TODAY. In John 5:17, Jesus said "My Father has been working until now, and I have been working". The 2nd suggestion Pastor Adam had for being thankful was to be the one who circles back.  In Luke 17:15-18, after Jesus heals 10 lepers, "

15 And one of them, when he saw that he was healed, returned, and with a loud voice glorified God, 16 and fell down on his face at His feet, giving Him thanks. And he was a Samaritan.

17 So Jesus answered and said, “Were there not ten cleansed? But where are the nine? 18 Were there not any found who returned to give glory to God except this foreigner?”  I did one thing right this past year in this regard.  After finishing a project, I sent out an email to each of the contractors who had done work on the project and thanked them for the work they had done.  Sure, they had gotten paid for their work, and sure not everything went exactly as planned and mistakes were made, but I could not have completed the project without and I wanted to take the time to specifically thank them. Someone once said to me that it's a good idea to email a thank you after someone does something for you at work.  In my Handy Tips section I've been talking about how to be more effective with the use of email, and a big part of that is not sending out too many emails.  I think this is one exception, and its worth noting that you don't have to use email to say thanks you can pick up the phone.  If someone regularly does helpful things for you as part of their job, you may want to occasionally thank them rather than every time they do something, and when you do so try to be specific about the work they do, noting anything that is unique about what they do and how they do it.  When I sent the email to my contractors I didn't just thank them, for each of them I pointed out specific things they did that made a difference.  The great thing about circling back is that it will likely make a big impact on others, because most people, like the 9 ungrateful lepers, don't do this. A few final thoughts on this issue.  First, Pastor Adam said that every blessing in life that is not turned into praise is turned into pride.  We could spend multiple Selah episodes talking about the danger pride and the scripture that demonstrates that Gods hates it when we're prideful.  I think this point is a powerful motivator for us being thankful.  Yes, being thankful is the right thing to do and will produce great fruit in our lives and the lives of others, but if we dont' do it, it can and will lead to pride will create destruction and should be avoided at all cost.  Another thought I have is while we're focusing on being thankful for our work and thankful to our co-workers, remember at the end of your work day to be thankful to your wife.  There's a temptation to bring our best selves to the workplace and then only bring our frustrations and judgmental attitude to our wife and kids.  Whether she's out in the marketplace working or a stay-at-home Mom, our wives deserve our thanks every day and in a way that's meaningful to them.  For my final thought, I heard a song by Jeremy Camp called Keep Me in the Moment on the radio today on my way home from church and I'd like to read some of the lyrics from that song. 

I've been thinking 'bout time and where does it go How can I stop my life from passing me by, I don't know I've been thinking 'bout family and how it's going so fast Will I wake up one morning just wishing that I could go back?

I've been thinking 'bout lately, maybe I can make a change and let you change me So, with all of my heart this is my prayer

Singing oh Lord, keep me in the moment Help me live with my eyes wide open 'Cause I don't wanna miss what you have for me

Singing oh Lord, show me what matters Throw away what I'm chasing after 'Cause I don't wanna miss what you have for me (what you have for me)

Keep me in the moment Oh, keep me in the moment Keep me in the moment 'Cause I don't wanna miss what you have for me (oh)

When I wake up in the morning Lord, search my heart Don't let me stray I just wanna stay where you are

All I got is one shot, one try One go around in this beautiful life Nothing is wasted when everything's placed in your hands

Singing oh Lord, keep me in the moment Help me live with my eyes wide open 'Cause I don't wanna miss what you have for me (what you have for me)

Singing oh Lord, show me what matters Throw away what I'm chasing after 'Cause I don't wanna miss what you have for me (what you have for me)

Keep me in the moment (keep me in the moment) Lord keep me in the moment (keep me in the moment) Keep me in the moment 'Cause I don't wanna miss what you have for me

I've been thinking about heaven And the promise you hold So, it's all eyes on you Until the day you call me home

Singing oh Lord, keep me in the moment Help me live with my eyes wide open 'Cause I don't wanna miss what you have for me (I don't wanna miss, I don't wanna miss)

Singing oh Lord, show me what matters Throw away what I'm chasing after (oh) 'Cause I don't wanna miss what you have for me (yeah)

Keep me in the moment Oh, keep me in the moment Keep me in the moment 'Cause I don't wanna miss what you have for me

Keep me in the moment (keep me in the moment) Oh, keep me in the moment (keep me in the moment) Keep me in the moment 'Cause I don't wanna miss what you have for me (what you have for me)

  E=Example of Faith at work

  2 men From episode 096, when Leighton Ford was age 14, his mother left for a while and during that summer Leighton was lonely but went to a Bible Conference put on by a local business man.  A speaker talked about praying out loud from the Psalms and this was a turning point for Leighton. He felt God knew and understood that teenage boy.

When Leighton was 14 yrs old a man named Evan Hedley, came to his hometown to start "Youth for Christ" there and Leighton was appointed to be president.  Evan was a business man who had been in insurance.  He wasn't a preacher but he was an organizer and a mentor.  Evan lived to age 90 and 60 men including Leighton who had been mentored by Evan came to his funeral.

  L=Logos = Work verse

  “Imprint these words of mine on your hearts and minds, bind them as a sign on your hands, and let them be a symbol on your foreheads. Teach them to your children, talking about them when you sit in your house and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. Write them on the doorposts of your house and on your city gates. Deuteronomy 11:18-20 - CSB

  A = Announcement

  “"The Classic Christian Rock podcast by WildMan & Steve encompasses all a Christian Music fan would want in a podcast. They interview Christian Rock artists twice a month- those from the past and the musicians who are rocking for Christ today. On the same podcast is a weekly radio show called Metal Talk where you will here great talk about politics, current events and faith- all while listening to great Metal music. Subscribe to their podcast today where ever you get your podcasts, find out more at WildManandsteve.com"”

  H=Handy tip to increase productivity and effectiveness 

Pretend CC doesn't exist, thing long and hard about who you're sending your email to.  Why is each and every person on there.  There should be a reason you can explain.  I do use the CC but I'm trying not to use the CC.  It's used to keep people informed, to cover our butt by making sure those cc'd know that we've done something, sometimes used to get someone in trouble or to point out to someone what someone is or is not doing. We can very easily damage relationships and trust using the CC the wrong way.  Another danger of using CC is if the email turns into a back and forth, some higher upper people that you just wanted to keep informed end up being dragged through a bunch of back and forth emails that you may not be able to stop or control.

  Check out this episode!

[labellerose-acheron]

Maurice Beauton -- Character Sheet

Archetype — The Explorer Birthday — January 24, 1958 Zodiac Sign — Aquarius MBTI — ENTP Enneagram — 4; the Individualist Temperament — Melancholic Hogwarts House — Slythdor but a Hufflepuff model Moral Alignment — Chaotic Neutral Primary Vice — Gluttony Primary Virtue — Diligence Element — Water

Overview:

Mother — Carine Beauton (nee Gouin) (deceased, 1971, pneumonia) Father — Julien Beauton (deceased, old age, died 2011 age: 87) Mother’s Occupation — teacher Father’s Occupation — teacher Family Finances — middle class Birth Order — younger Brothers — Matthew (deceased, 1993, car accident) (five years older) Sisters — none Other Close Family — Matthew has a wife let’s name her Romaine. And they have a son who is like 27, his name is Antoine. He’s married to a girl named Lydia. They have a 5 year old daughter named Estelle. They live in Paris. Belle knows vaguely about this but definitely not that Antoine is married and has a daughter bc after Matthew died, Romaine didn’t keep in touch with Maurice. So after Julien died, Maurice stopped getting updates and Maurice never talked to her about his family once she got older. She knows she has an uncle and a cousin. Best Friend — he has a few friends up in London Other Friends — eh Enemies — none? Probably Hades lmfaooo kidding i kid maurice is too sweet truly Pets — he’s got a cat, her name is Ettie, tho her full name is Pirouette Home Life During Childhood — Had an okay childhood, his mom died when he was about thirteen from a flu that turned into pneumonia. They moved to France after their mother died bc his dad got a job at some university. His brother was older than him and more sporty/popular so he didn’t want to hang around his weird kooky younger brother. He stood up for him when other people teased him but he didn’t go out of his way to hang out with Maurice. Their father was loving but he was sad when his wife died, though he always supported both of them and he didn’t mind Maurice living with him well into his thirties bc he was lonely. Town or City Name(s) — Grew up in Swynlake and then Paris. Moved to back to Swynlake after marrying Charisse. What Did His or Her Bedroom Look Like — Normal? Probably had a workbench in it and was always messy bc he was working on some invention or another. Always had like grease on things. Any Sports or Clubs — lol no. I mean he probably was in uhh like chess club. Maybe the debate team? Or like a science/engineering club? But he got kicked out of most clubs bc he didn’t understand how to play by the rules and would just kind of do his own thing. Favorite Toy or Game — fiddling with things! prolly really into his rubix cube Schooling — decent schooling, he was really smart but he didn’t apply himself well because he just wasn’t interested in things like literature and history more than like face-value. Like he likes reading but he doesn’t want to lEARN about BOOKs. Was much more hands on--liked science and like idk woodshop lol Favorite Subject — Science definitely Popular or Loner — Loner, even though he tried really hard to popular. Like too hard. He would just go and sit with people and start talking to them like he’d known them forever and people found him like too aggressive and weird so they’d just get up and like move tables. Important Experiences or Events — When his mom died! Moving to France! Getting his apprenticeship with the clockmaker! Meeting Charisse! Marrying Charisse! When Belle was born! When Charisse died! Leaving Belle! Going to a mental hospital! Getting out of the mental hospital after three years (he woulda been good after like a year but he just kept hanging around.) Nationality — English Culture — English/French Religion and beliefs — ehhhh no he is a man of science, but his family is Catholic. His brother and father were very devout.

Physical Appearance:

Face Claim —  Jeff Perry Complexion — wrinkly lol kind of red in the face Hair Colour — greyish/whiteish now but it used to be dark brown Eye Colour — Blue Height — 5’9 Build — he’s short and stout, kind of overweight, does not exercise or properly take care of himself Tattoos — lmfao no Piercings — also lmao no Common Hairstyle — he just lets it do what it wants, it kind of sticks up all over the place Clothing Style — uh? He just wears shirts and pants like nothing special, stays with neutral colors browns/greens Mannerisms — doesn’t really make eye contact well, wrings his hands (like Belle), stutters when he talks, trails off mid-conversation, misses the Point a lot, puts his hand to his forehead when he’s overwhelmed.

Health:

Overall (do they get sick easily)? — yeah he does not have good health lol probably gets winded like walking up the stairs Physical Ailments — uhhh none? Probably has a lot of scars from things EXPLODIGN wears glasses Neurological Conditions — depression, anxiety, tbh probably on the Autism spectrum? Allergies — none really Grooming Habits — ehhhhh not great especially if he gets hyperfocused on a project Sleeping Habits — terrible he kind of naps throughout the day, doesn’t have liek a set sleeping pattern. Eating Habits — also bad, can’t cook so he just makes himself like shit u heat up Exercise Habits —  the only time he exercises is climbing up into clocks to fix them Emotional Stability — uhhhhhhhh like a 3 lol it is Not Good Body Temperature — eh probably overheats easily lol Sociability — i mean he is super social, but like?? social cues are not his thing so i’ll give him a 6 Addictions — none except maybe caffeine Drug Use — none except his prescribed meds when he takes them, which is only, when he’s in the hospital, Alcohol Use — not really

Your Character’s Character:

Bad Habits — being inconsiderate, hyperfocusing, withdrawing when upset, flighty, cowardly Good Habits — loving, kind, he tries!!, really smart, enthusiastic, passionate Best Characteristic — kind and intelligent Worst Characteristic — just has no clue Worst Memory — losing Charisse Best Memory — meeting Charisse!! (Belle’s birth? I mean, yes, but it isn’t what would come to mind for him exactly.) Proud of — not a lot really? Embarrassed by — also not much tbh bc he just has no awareness, he v much just views the world the way he wants to view it, though he knows when people laugh at him and think he’s weird and that makes him sad. Driving Style — doesn’t drive Strong Points — intelligence, really a great clockmaster Temperament — chill af Attitude — optimistic, kind of stupidly so Weakness — over-enthusiasm Fears — doesn’t really dwell on fears Phobias — none Secrets — none Regrets — also none? Feels Vulnerable When — people laugh at him or make fun of him Pet Peeves — people laughing at him Conflicts — attempting to navigate his mental illness and living a good life. Motivation — uh he doesn’t really have motivations? Short Term Goals and Hopes — make up with belle Long Term Goals and Hopes — just keep on keeping on Sexuality — heterosexual tho rly p asexual Exercise Routine  — none existent Day or Night Person — night owl for sure Introvert or Extrovert — extrovert surprisingly he craves community and closeness Optimist or Pessimist — optimist!

Likes and Styles:

Music — not really super into music, but likes instrumental stuff if he does listen, or operas, though they just make him sad Books — he likes most books but he likes reading things like the Origin of Species the best Magazines — none Foods — all food is good food, except spicy stuff Drinks — really likes milk, Animals — cats and horses are his favorites. He likes most animals though, even spiders and snakes and stuff like that Sports — lol Social Issues — none?? Really?? He’s p magic-friendly but in his own problematic way, Favorite Saying — “If it’s not baroque, don’t fix it!” - nerd humor (yes i stole this from the movie but maurice would find it hilarious.) Color — blue probably Jewelry — does he still wear his wedding ring? probably Games — none Websites — none is hopeless at computers even tho he can take one apart and put it back together TV Shows — none Movies — eh none really Greatest Want — to fix things with belle, for charisse to be alive again D: Greatest Need — to stop living in the past and embrace what still is.

Where and How Does Your Character Live Now:

Home — he has a little flat that he probably shares with a friend let’s name him Daniel Household furnishings — plain just the bare minimum, very bachelor pad Favorite Possession — his wedding ring Most Cherished Possession — his wedding ring Neighborhood — somewhere in London idk Town or City Name — London Details of Town or City — it’s fuckin london Married Before — yes to the love of his life Significant Other Before — only ever loved/dated one woman Children — Belle! Relationship with Family — estranged Car — none Career — clockmaker/fixer Dream Career — famous inventor! Dream Life — a rich, successful famous inventor with his loving wife and daughter by his side though he’ll take a life where charisse is alive over anything else Love Life — none Talents or Skills — super smart, can p much build anything from scratch, really intuitive when it comes to problem solving Intelligence Level — so smart, just truly brilliant, but not super great with people so he doesn’t come off as intelligent Finances — low, low, lower middle classs

Your Character’s Life Before Your Story:

Past Careers — has always done the same job but for diff places/freelancing Past Lovers — none, just charisse Biggest Mistakes — fuckin leaving belle on her own smh Biggest Achievements — none? really?