#i promise proper safety protocols were being followed in all of these stories

[hylianengineer]

*asks about job*

Anon you are my favorite.

Okay, so, I'm a laboratory and field technician in a soil and water science lab.

I love my job so goddamn much. I get to work with fancy machines like the gas chromatograph and spectrometer! (The spectrometer is actually really boring but shhh.) I get to go outside and watch birds while I collect water samples! I am getting paid for this! I get to learn data processing and engineering and wilderness safety precautions and how to explain complex science to people whose careers are Not This.

Also, research labs are chaos and I delight in it. Okay maybe not ALL research labs, I'm informed the chemistry department does not look like this. BUT this is an environmental science lab. It is full is bizarre, deeply nerdy, deeply passionate people. Who do things like eat baked potatoes like apples, improvise experimental setups with mason jars and duct tape, and nickname every instrument either a human name or a Pixar reference. I love them so much I have no words.

Crazy and fun things I've done for this job:

Freezer jenga followed by freezer tetris (had to take all the things out of a the freezer, put them in coolers to keep them cold, defrost the freezer, and put them back in except organized this time. I was delighted by this for no logical reason, my boss thought I was nuts).

Okay you know in scifi movies where they have some weird mystery substance and they put it in a box with gloves attatched so they can work with it without actually touching it? I've done that! Not because of hazardous substances, we just needed to put stuff in jars without exposing it to oxygen. But still! It was cool!

Shopping trip to get food for like half a dozen people for three days (I had weird dreams about being overwhelmed with tortilla chips afterwards, this doesn't sound that crazy but I promise you it felt like it).

Taped plastic tubing to 200+ funels until the boxes we were storing them in overflowed and there was no longer floorspace to walk (AFTER cutting the plastic tubing into 200+ equally sized pieces and stuffing it with ion exchange resin, which is like evil microplastic sand. Between all those things, this took WEEKS. It got really boring).

Dissolved like 10kg of KCl (KCl my behated, its very harmless but hell to get off glassware) in water to make 80 LITERS OF KCL SOLUTION (that's over 20 pounds of solid KCl and over 20 gallons of solution! My coworker and I were sort of laughing hysterically over this entire process because come on! 80 liters! For reference most lab protocols need like, a liter or less of whatever solution.) Fun fact about solid KCl, it tends to stick together into a giant brick. We were chiseling at it with scoops, spoons, whatever was on hand (i really wanted to attack it with a screwdriver but it would introduce dirt into the chemicals so i couldn't) and eventually we got so frustrated we went outside and dropped the thing off a second floor balcony. After wrapping it in like 3 layers of plastic bags because we knew at least one bag was gonna break. This did not actually help much but it was very cathartic.

There was a project once where we had to take sealed mason jars and replace all the air in them with nitrogen gas. Repeatedly. For over a hundred jars. My PI (principle invesitgator, means the scientist in charge of a project and usually a lab) is good at building things, so of course he assembled this manifold thing so we could pump nitrogen through a dozen jars at once. Which was great, except it involved two dozen needles, half of them attatched to flexible plastic tubing so they'd kinda bounce around when you pulled them out of the jars. It looked like a very stabby centipede-slash-octopus monster. Impressively, we only stabbed ourselves a couple times each with this thing (and changed the needles of course, we are aware of the risks of transmitting blood diseases).

Actually one of the craziest things about this job in my opinion is how many fucking needles we work with. You see, we study atmospheric gases. And to do that, we need to transfer gases between sealed containers, which means needles and septa (the rubber things they put on vials so you can poke needles through them). So. Many. Needles. Did you know you can only use a needle four times before it gets too dull? It's extremely noticeable as you're using them - not as they get dull, but when you discard an old needle and get out a new one it is a huge difference. I don't know why I find this so fascinating, but working with needles is honestly so fun. I feel like a mad scientist or something. Also, for the first couple months I kept poking myself on accident so I was just walking around with these pinpricks and papercut looking wounds. It felt a bit like a badge of honor, somehow, like a rite of passage for working in the gas lab. Another thing about needles, if you get scratched with one horizontally instead of stabbed, they look like papercuts. It's weird. Also weird is how good you get after a while at not stabbing yourself.

I think I like working with needles because they're something that used to make me nervous. Not horribly, but I have more than typical anxiety and I get nervous about everything. And yet I am now totally chill about needles, because I work with them all the time. It's... freeing I guess. Maybe empowering, even. I am scared of so many things, but I am not scared of this. Ditto large quantities of acid, once you've had to work with dozens of liters of the stuff you stop being scared of it - this was for the same project as the KCl and yes it was equally ridiculous. Dilute acid, thankfully, but to make dilute acid you have to mix the really concentrated stuff with water. It does not come as dilute acid, that would be too easy. So we spent multiple days in a row diluting acid and soaking things in it, there were plastic boxes full of the stuff on every available counter space with handmade warning labels, it was A Thing™️.

Anyways, I'm a person who's scared of everything, except weird stuff like hydrochloric acid, needles, and wasps. I can blame all three of those things on this job, which I love dearly. I love to learn new things, pretend I'm in a scifi movie, be surrounded by crazy people (affectionate), and apparently overcome my numerous fears. You absolutely did not sign up for this big puddle of feelings, anon, but thank you for inspiring it nevertheless.

[filmtv2022]

Moving Forward: Chapter Three

(18+ MDNI)

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Masterlist

Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Kazansky!Reader

Synopsis: The first day of training goes just about as poorly as one could expect when Y/N and Jake get paired up to fly together. Events from the past prove to be problematic even in the present as Y/N an Jake struggle to find a way to work together after a shared tragedy ruined so much for both of them. Bradley, lost as to how to navigate the situation, tries to help, but finds himself in rough waters with his former best friend (reader).

Warnings: language + injury recovery + reference to past accident of some kind

A/N: Well... I don't know if anyone cares about this story anymore (it's been ages since I updated), but I promised myself that this year I'd write what I wanted and what felt good. I finally had the inspiration to return to this story, and I'm glad I did. Here's to hoping that I can keep going with this story. As always, I apologize for any mistakes.

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The roar of jet engines tearing through the sky refocused you on the present but did little to settle your nerves. You paced quietly along the back side of the room, your eyes glancing over the sea of pictures that covered it. There was one in particular that caught your attention. You’d seen a copy of this one many times before as it hung from the wall of your father’s office. Running your fingertips over the frame, you easily found the familiar faces captured amongst the rows of aviators. The youthful smiles of Maverick, Goose, and your father warmed your heart. But there was always a level of sadness and wondering tacked onto the love and admiration. What would things have been like if Goose was still alive? 

“All right, next up we have Kazansky and Seresin.” Hondo’s commanding voice called into the room. 

Ignoring the snide comments Jake continued to throw in your direction you made your way down to the tarmac. Your pre-flight checks took you past Rooster who sat catching his breath after pounding out his 200 hundred push-ups. His eyes caught the other aviator who followed a good distance behind, and a surge of worry tightened in his chest as he saw that it was Hangman. Taking advantage of the fact that Jake wouldn’t be able to hear, he shouted a word of warning. 

“Watch your back up there, Kazansky.” 

“Worry about yourself, Bradshaw.” 

Bradley’s retort was lost in the sound of engines flaring overhead, leaving you to pound further down the tarmac toward your jet. Following the proper protocol, you entered the pilot’s seat, the heat rolling off the dark pavement already had sweat pooling along your hairline. Sliding into a seated position, the ever-present ache in your hip flashed anew, sending shooting pain along the outside of your leg. The air caught in your chest and forced you to close your eyes and breathe through the spasm. 

 Knowing you could no longer put it off, your heart fluttered wildly as your trembling hands flipped switches without thinking. The motions were second nature even after all this time away. Things moved quickly and then there was nothing more you could check, it was time. Pushing back from your spot, you were given radio clearance to take your place on the runway. With one final go-ahead from the tower, you were off, barreling down the tarmac and into the sky. 

Hanging as low as the hard deck would allow, you watched and waited to see what Hangman would do, his slippery nature in the air was a well-known hazard. For the time being, he stayed a reasonable distance above you as if getting too close would cause him to falter. Eventually, even he got antsy as signs of Maverick remained non-existent. Unwilling to wait it out, Jake peeled off into the sun where you lost track of him visually.

“And there he goes. Typical, Seresin.” 

“Feelin’ lonely, Riot? There’s plenty of room up here if you’re willing to get up off your safety blanket.”

“Screw you, Bagman.” 

Jakes, hard laughter poured through the comms. It didn’t take long for Pete to catch up to him, the two were locked in a battle of speed and wits. Continuing to listen in silence, you heard the banter between the captain and Hangman as Pete closed in on the younger pilot. 

“Riot, where the hell are you?! Get him off my tail?!”

“I’m not the one who flew away from my wingman, Seresin. You need some help, you know where to find me.” 

Lightening fast, Jake swept back into view with Maverick hot on his tail. They were flying toward you from the rear, the aim was clearly to utilize the blaring sun to blind you until the last second, but you knew Pete and Jake too well. 

Breathing slowly you heard Maverick aim at Hangman, hitting his target with exacting precision. Now it was just you and Mav. The rest of the world fell away with the remaining nerves that’d kept you glued in place. This left you free to calculate when to move. Unwilling to rush the process, you waited patiently, biding your time. The only change to your flight path was a gradual upward movement to gain enough altitude to maneuver safely. Clocking his final approach you pulled back hard as the whining tone of an approaching jet poured into your headset. Lifting your jet up and over Maverick’s left you in the perfect position to take the shot. Without hesitation you connected, your aim sure and true. 

“That’s a kill! How you feelin’ old man? Had enough yet?” 

Maverick’s laughter filled your ears as he caught his breath, “Jesus, Kazansky where the hell did ya learn that?”

“It’s straight out of your playbook, Mav.” 

“Remind me to send an apology to your father for teaching you that.” 

“Don’t worry, he already knows you’re a terrible influence.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Get yourself down to that tarmac.” 

“You got it, captain. Also, Mav?”

“Yes, Riot?”

“Take ‘er easy with those push-ups. We wouldn’t want to have to call in a medic to scrape your ass off the pavement, now would we?” 

Another bout of barking laughter tore through the comms. Still a little hazy, you found your way back to the runway and proceeded to move through the end-of-flight procedures. The adrenaline wore off more quickly than you hoped, leaving behind the nasty ache of still-healing injuries. With everything in working order, you gingerly reported back to the ready room. The audible buzz from inside the space was evident even before the door was open. The thrill of it pulled a meek smile from deep within even as your steadiness waned.

 Shoving the door open with your good hip, you fought against the bone-deep exhaustion. The rest of the crew erupted into enthusiastic congratulations. The rough pats on your back were far too aggressive given the lack of familiarity. Each touch jolted your body, leaving you more desperate to sit down. Everything was stilted and stiff as your body screamed. Simply walking sent shock waves through your nervous system. Masking it as best you could, you nearly collapsed into one of the more cushioned seats and rested your head against your hand. Waiting out the spasms, your eyes shut tight in a feeble attempt to block out the rest of the world. Still keyed up, the rest of the crew flew back to the window in the hope of catching Maverick in the thick of his “punishment”. 

Across the room, Bradley looked your way for the first time since your interaction on the tarmac. What others had easily passed off as exhaustion, he saw through immediately. You were suffering… in more ways than one. The tension in your body paired with the furrow of your eyebrows was more than enough to clue him in. He’d seen that look of anguish only a few times before, but the sight of it was burned into his memory. Breaking away from the group, Bradley started in your direction, but the jarring smack of metal against drywall rang through the room freezing him in place. 

Tearing his focus from you, he watched as Hangman stormed into the room. His helmet was held in his outstretched hand as his attention fell directly on you. 

“What the fuck was that Riot?” 

“Not now, Jake… please.” Your eyes remained shut in the hopes that it would calm his tantrum.

“No! You don’t get to slide out of this one, Kazansky! Your bullshit cost me up there. If this had been anything other than training, I’d be dead.” Jake’s eyes narrowed as he took another step closer. His shadow now loomed over your body, “But then again, that’s just your style isn’t Y/N… who cares who you bury, as long as you come out on top, isn’t that right?” 

Your eyes snapped open, fury glimmered in your steely gaze. Rushing to your feet, you ignored the screaming throb in your hip and knee as your hands came up, hard and fast reaching for Jake. Making contact with his chest, you pushed with every ounce of strength you could muster, sending him back a few steps as your voice cracked, “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about Seresin!” 

Taking a quick step past him, determined to extricate yourself from this situation as fast as possible, the tug of Jake’s hand on your wrist had you turning on him. A rabid look took over your features, pinning him into place. Letting go of you, he spoke quickly, his volume continuing to rise as he fired more shots across the bow.

“Really?! Because I think I know better than every goddamn person in this room! Do you want to tell ‘em or should I? Because they deserve to know just what kind of coward they’re flying with.” 

“Fuck off, Bagman!” stepping back into his space you once again reached for Jake, but your movement was cut off. 

Seeing that unhinged look in your eyes, Bradley had moved out of pure instinct to your side, his hands closing around your biceps as he hauled you back from the edge of something you were sure to regret.

“Y/N, stop.” 

Prying yourself from Rooster’s grasp, you whirled around, snarling at him, “Stay the hell out of this Bradshaw.” Bradley’s normally stoic face flinched almost imperceptibly at your words. 

Wasting no time, you turned back to face, Jake who’d had enough presence of mind to take a few steps back. The rest of the aviators stared in silent horror at the scene that had unfolded in front of them. 

“And don’t you ever pretend like you know what happened that night. Because trust me when I say, if I could trade places with them, I’d do it in a heartbeat, no questions asked.” 

Storming away from the ready room, you let the door crash back against the frame behind you. Not bothering to hold yourself together any longer, the tears flowed down your cheeks in hotlines, and your nose burned with emotion. Swallowing hard, you found your way to the locker room, tearing off your flight suit the second you cleared the door. Discarding it in your locker, you worked with unsteady hands to pull on the jeans you’d brought to wear for your ride home, but you didn’t get far in the process before your knee gave out.

Collapsing in on itself, you buckled, sending yourself in a crumpled heap to the floor. Your hands smacked against the wooden bench in a reflexive attempt at slowing your fall. The swift thwack reverberated through the empty space as you rested your forehead between your outstretched hands. Breathing slowly, you fought against the memories that threatened to flood back. The tick of the clock on the wall marked the passing of time, but it was meaningless in your stupor. With each grounding breath, you regulated your heart rate enough to move to sit on the bench. Resting back against the brick wall, your shoulders slumped with the weight of the world. 

If it wasn’t for the creaking groan of the locker room door swinging open, you’d have sat like that forever. Instead, the grating noise sent your eyes snapping open, a counterargument perched on your tongue for whoever decided to confront you about the shitshow that had unfolded earlier. Forcing yourself to meet them, you focused your attention on the spot you knew they’d soon inhabit. The heavy fall of boots on tile echoed for a few seconds longer before their owner turned the corner. A wave of thankfulness that it wasn’t Hangman was quickly washed away by the fact that Bradley Bradshaw stood before you. Stopping at the edge of the lockers, he stayed silent watching you watching him. 

His flight suit was tied around his waist, leaving his strong arms exposed as he crossed them in front of his chest. The look on his face was confusing, a warring mix of so many things. On one hand, he looked like he was about to throttle you for the way you acted earlier. On the other hand, he looked broken as if seeing you like this was more than he could handle. Like it was taking everything in his being to keep from crossing the room and holding you in his arms. 

The two of you stayed quiet for a few more seconds, but it was finally Bradley who broke the silence. 

“Are you okay?” 

Staring back at him, you kept a deadpan look fixed to your features, afraid of what he’d see if you let it slip, “I’m fine, Bradley.” 

“Come on now, Y/N. You know that’s not true. What the hell happened back there today?”  

“First of all, why do you suddenly care how I’m doing? Because that hasn’t seemed to matter to you in a very long time. And more importantly, I don’t need your pity, Bradshaw. What happened between me and Hangman has nothing to do with you.” 

“But it-”

“Don’t you dare try to pull the, ‘But it does matter to me, we’re on the same side’ bullshit. You and I haven’t been on the same side in a long fuckin’ time. You worry about you, and I’ll worry about me. End of story. Okay?”

Turning away from him, you picked up your bag and started zipping up the pockets. With your back to him, the clip of his boots on the floor gave away his continued approach.  

“It’s not okay, you’re not okay.” stopping a few steps shy of you, his hands dropped to his sides, fists clenched tightly, “Just talk to me, Y/N.”

Turning to face him, you glared at him as you spoke, “Honestly, I don’t give a shit what you think, and you’re the last person I care to talk to right now. I’m not here to make friends, I’m here to fly this godforsaken mission, and if I’m lucky enough to live through it all… I’d like to keep moving forward with my life.” 

“You sound just like Hangman when you talk that. Maybe you two really do deserve each other.” 

A momentary flash of surprise, and hurt passed over your features. Caught off guard, your next words were shakier than you’d have liked given the circumstance, “You’re right, Bradley… maybe we do deserve each other. At least with Jake, he doesn’t pretend to be something he’s not.” 

Throwing the heavy bag over your shoulders you flew past Bradley, leaving him to flounder in stunned silence.

[weareallstoriesintheend]

Freedom - (Reader x Zemo)

Zemo and a guard at The Raft have struck up an unlikely friendship

Prompts: Taken from @prompts-in-a-barrel

Word Count: 1,641

Warnings: None; takes place after The Falcon And The Winter Soldier (Season 1) so some small spoilers!

Part 1 of the Escape Series

You had arrived at work early today; an odd feeling nestled at the back of your mind was denying you sleep so you’d decided to clock in early. You were given your morning duties as you began the meticulous process of strapping yourself into the various components of your guard’s uniform; thankfully it was a slow morning– inmate checks only. Since The Raft currently only held three prisoners you presumed, with a small smile to yourself, that breakfast was on the cards nice and early today.

The Raft had several floors where prisoners could be kept and right now, for safety, each prisoner was kept in a cell on a separate floor. It was nice and quiet this early in the morning with only you and a few cleaners milling around the floors so you could take your time walking between each level.

It was early so Trish Walker and Willis Stryker were still fast asleep in their cells. Trish was curled up in her tight, protective ball as usual and Willis was sat up, head leaning against the metal wall behind him eyes tightly closed. A scan of the cell rooms, a glancing health check on each prisoner, check the locks and integrity of the cell glass and that’s another tick on the list.

You stopped, leaning against the cold metal wall of the stairwell checking your watch, an hour till breakfast. You were making your way through each prisoner reasonably leisurely for a number of reasons; one of those reasons had to do with who was housed on Level 3.

Working on an underwater containment facility didn’t really have too many perks, it often felt like you were a prisoner here yourself but it paid well so who were you to complain. Although, when you stopped to think about it, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen daylight. Every day was pretty much the same, which was until a new prisoner was brought to the facility by the Dora Milaje of Wakanda.

Baron Helmut Zemo had certainly livened things up around here, at least for you. He was kinder and calmer than anyone had expected him to be, given the stories that followed in his wake, and unlike the other two prisoners he held no contempt towards those in charge of his care. The guards on the other hand tended veer towards hate at his pretentious turns of phrase and his intelligence, you guessed this was because they didn’t like feeling less than someone being kept as a prisoner. But for you it provided some much needed entertainment. You would never admit it but listening to his deep gravelly tone tell you stories of Sovokia often brightened your day, sometimes you would even stay on shift well past the end of your working day to hear him speak of his family. Unable to stop him as his eyes clouded over with grief, there was so much more to this rich, cocky Baron than what met the eye. He’d often made you bets or promises of what he could provide for you if you were to help him leave this place; these offers always met with a scoff and roll of the eyes from you trying to hide how nervous it made you. He would sweeten his offers with soft nicknames and tell you how he would even marry you to give you the life, in his words, that you deserved.

You reached level 3, punching in the code to the heavy reinforced door; you walked in to see exactly what you had expected. Zemo was sitting up in bed, lights on, reading one of the few books he’d been allowed upon his arrival. The room was pretty much in darkness except for the dull lights on the ceiling and bright light of his cell illuminating him in front of you. He sat, leaning casually, in a blue inmate’s uniform. “Morning Zemo, how you are today?” you said cheerily as you approached the cell. You gave the room a quick scan and saw nothing amiss; you pulled out your report notebook from your pocket.

“What do you want?” he replied, voice so low it was almost a whisper. He seemed tired today; you guessed his mind was plagued again today so he hadn’t slept. The dark bags under his eyes gave that away.

“Just checking in. Are you okay? You haven’t tried to breach containment since last Tuesday.”

He chuckled in a low tone and carefully placed his book, open with the pages down, on the grey blanket beside him.

“Well… I have no reason to leave nor can I at present, therefore…” he shrugged to end his sentence. He curled his feet up under himself and shuffled to face you.

“You look tired milaya” he commented, studying your face with his classic tilted head. His eyes were squinted but were travelling over your face so intensely it made you squirm on your feet.

“Keep your pet names to yourself” you grumbled, writing your check-up report in your notebook.

“Ah of course, I always do forget you can speak Russian” he smiles as you roll your eyes. “So many skills you have Krasotka, wasted here I should think” You roll your eyes again, raising them from the page of your notebook to look at him, but you can’t help the small laugh you let out at the satisfied smirk on his face. Unfortunately it was at that moment your superior officer decided to arrive on the floor, catching you in the act of being just a little too friendly with a prisoner… again. He pulled you aside with a gesture of his head, you trundled after him knowing exactly what was coming.

For the next few minutes he gave you another lecture on proper protocol when talking to inmates. During his rant, with his back turned to Zemo, he couldn’t see the mocking faces being pulled at his words. You bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from smiling. The officer took your three inmate reports from you and sulked back off into the stairwell.

“Well he is pleasant as ever this morning” Zemo quipped as the door to the stairwell closed loudly. “You are going to get me in serious trouble one day Zemo” you tsk’d, tucking your notebook back into the pocket on your uniform.

“They don’t appreciate you. Not a single one of them.”

“You talk big for someone stuck in cell you know that right?”

“I’m just saying it as I see it. But you already know that, don’t you? That they’re only using you. That they’ll never accept you or your talents.”

“Me and my talents are leaving now.” You turned on your heel, making for the door.

“I see you. I accept you. I’ve offered you a place beside me before. The offer still stands. You would be valued. Cherished.”

You turned back around abruptly, unable to listen to him talk anymore “Don’t bullshit me. I’m not some fragile idiot you can manipulate to your side. You want to use me just the same as they do.”

“You’re wrong.” He said simply.

You eyed him cautiously “I know how this goes Zemo. I break you out of here and you run off leaving me to end up in my own cell. No thank you”

He smiled, chuckling quietly to himself as he rose off the bed and onto his feet; placing one hand on the glass he beckoned you over. You shook your head and didn’t move, but something in the way he was with you made you…intrigued. You didn’t want to play into his game but you’d seen him with other guards and, mostly, his words for you seemed sincere. He beckoned again and you stepped a little closer, still maintaining a distance despite him having no way of getting to you through the thick glass and bars on his cell.

“This is not what you think. You know what I can give you and you know I am right” he whispered, running his eyes over your body. You squirmed again, his gaze igniting something within you that was more confusing that uncomfortable.

“Oh really? Because I think I’m right, I’m not getting champagne on a private jet out of this. I’m getting a nice cushy cell, much like this one, for the rest of my life for breaking a terrorist out of prison!”

Zemo smiled and shook his head “Is that all you want? Champagne and a private jet? I can give you that and more, you know this. Have you ever joined the… what is you Americans call it? The mile high club” he laughed darkly at the swift, nervous shift of your expression.

“We’re done here” you retorted matter of factly, trying to ignore the heat creeping up the back of your neck. You spun on your heel once more, your quiet steps the only thing filling the void within the room.

As you reached out for the handle of the door his voice made you flinch, so loud in the potent silence, “Just think it over Krasivaya. The life I can give you would be so much more than what you give yourself day to day within the walls of this prison. I would say we both yearn for a little… freedom”

“Enough!” you shouted, voice echoing around the room.

He raised his hands in defeat and you watched as he flicked the radio on, a quiet crackle before a news channel began playing filling the painful stillness that had come over the room once more. He sat back down on the low bed and picked up his book, gently licked the top of his middle finger and used it to turn the page; he didn’t look up as he spoke “Just some food for thought”

[neon-junkie]

Loyalty

Summary: Is someone here to steal your chickens again? Or is it a long lost lover who accidentally comes across you and your homestead?

Pairing: Javier Escuella x gn!Reader

Word Count: 1444

Rating: SFW 

Tags: Angst, Fluff, Happy ending, Pre-RDR1, Crying, Reunion.

Notes: Tumblr ate this anon’s ask sooo I’m posting this as a fic instead. Will be doing more of these :) 

It's been so long since the events of Beaver Hollow, since the Pinkertons tracked the gang down for the last time, since the standoff that tore the gang apart. The obvious choice was to stand beside Arthur and John, which is what you did, leaving your former sweetheart on Dutch's side.

That was the last time you saw them. Their broken heart visible in their eyes, tears refusing to fall since they just couldn't believe you were turning your back on them. You weren't, you never thought you were; you were just siding with the right side, the side they should have been on, the side they clearly wanted to be on.

You moved on. You had to. You had to escape the surrounding area and push as far as your horse would take you, over the river to West Elizabeth, down past the Great Plains, heading over to New Austin. You'd started a new life here, working on a ranch until you could afford a small one-person shack with a few chickens and your horse.

Season's changed. The leaves fell from the trees time and time again. Your former horse passed and you eventually got a new one. Your former lover never left your mind, despite how much you tried to shake them off. You'd tried to love again, tried to move on. You'd spend countless nights at the saloon trying to pick up anyone, trying to enjoy one night stands, trying to fall in love again, but nothing ever worked.

And here you are, currently feeding the chickens on a warm summers eve, the suns rays peeking from the mountains. You gaze at the sky, the red reminding you of all the blood that fell to the ground those many years ago. Most of the time, you ignored those thoughts. You were used to them by now, those feelings of grief and despair now turning numb and hollow. But tonight was different, tonight your heart ached for the first time in a while. Something felt off, despite everything seeming normal.

You retire for the evening after shooing the chickens into their expensive coop, locking the pen behind you as you left. You enter your cabin, locking the door and putting your coat on the rack whilst you kick off your boots. Dinner doesn't take long to prepare, re-heating leftovers from the night before, taking your time to eat whilst you write in your diary. You push the plate to the corner of the desk, giving you more space to write.

Something's telling you to go back through your memories, so you do, turning back through your diary, pulling your old one out from the set of draws built into your desk. There are pages and pages of camp stories, photos of the gang, small wrinkled bits of paper from where your tears had fallen as you'd written in the book when the gang was falling apart.

As you go over the pages, your ears perk up at the sound of your horse nickering, whining uncomfortably from their small sheltered pen. You get up to your feet, peering from behind the curtain that overlooks your horse's stable. They seem fine, nothing's there, they must have just gotten spooked from their own shadow. No surprise.

You go to sit back down but you hear the sound of your chicken coop gate opening, that distinct little clicking of metal from the lock on the gate. Somebody's definitely out there, probably attempting to steal your chickens. Unfortunately, you'd had strangers attempt to do this before.

You follow protocol, picking up your already-loaded shotgun, despite it not being fired in a while. After turning the safety lock off, you unlock your door, quickly slamming it open, cocking the gun as you raise it to your shoulder, ready to fire.

"What the hell do you think you're doin'?!" You bark, startling the stranger who's stood in the chicken pen, their hands about to reach down and grab one of the poor birds.

"No need for that," they reply, quickly standing upright and raising their hands. "I can leave," they tell you.

"I think that'd be wise, and don't bother coming back," You tell them, eye peering down the barrel of the gun. Something about them felt... familiar.

They shuffle backward out the pen, kicking the gate shut with their foot. They go to reach down to lock the gate but you cut them off. "Leave it," you order. Their hand returns to the air, continuing to slowly back away from your home.

Damn that large tree you had, despite it being perfect shade for your chickens, it's blocking the light from the moon, barely showing their figure, let alone their face. It isn't until they finally move back into the light that you feel your heart sink.

The beautiful shade of tanned skin, the shoulder-length black hair, the distinct facial hair. Either your former lover had an identical twin that he never told you about, or he's stood right in front of you, attempting to steal your chickens.

"Javier?" You softly ask, lowering your gun ever so slightly so he can finally see your face.

Javier's heart drops as fast as yours did, his mouth parting slightly as he realizes who he just tried to steal from.

"Amor?" He asks, his hands lowering from head height.

"It's you?" you question.

"It's me," Javier shrugs.

You're quick to prop your gun against the inside of the cabin, rushing over to him. Javier rushes over to you, in sync, removing his sombrero as chucking it to the ground so he can hug you properly. You've not felt a hug this tight in a long time, and you can't help the flood of tears falling from your eyes. Javier does the same, not holding back, allowing himself to whimper into your shoulder as he grips tightly onto you.

"I thought you were gone," you tell him through sobs, dampening the ends of his shortened hair as they brush against your cheek.

"I had to flee. And you..." Javier breaks the hug so he can cup your face, both hands on your cheeks. "...I thought you had moved away. Gotten married. Started a new life," he tells you.

You shake your head, your hands coming to rest on top of his. "I couldn't," you tell him.

"You've aged like fine wine," he smiles, tilting your head down so he can kiss your forehead.

"You..." you pause, finally taking a proper look at him through your tears. "...you look tired, Javi'. You look rough," you honestly tell him, noticing the bags under his eyes, the jagged way his hairs been cut, the weight he's lost.

"I am," he shrugs. "Too many sleepless nights without you," Javier tells you, moving his hands down to your waist so he can pull you back into a hug. Your arms wrap back around his shoulders.

The two of you hold each other for a few moments, enjoying the long-awaited contact, the touches you thought you'd never feel again. You move away, one hand coming up to cup his jawline, gazing into his eyes. He's really here. Your former love, your other half, the man you swore you'd spend your life with, is finally standing in front of you, his hands around your waist as he gazes at you with love-struck eyes.

"Come here," Javier whispers, moving his hands back up to your jawline, finally pulling your mouth against his. The kiss is gentle at first, shy yet so familiar. He feels different, but he still feels like he's yours. His mustache lightly tickles your upper lip, just how you remember. His nose slightly bumps against yours, just how you remember. His kisses are gentle and passionate, just how you remember.

You feel one of his tears run along your cheek, and all that does it make you cry more. "Javier, please, come inside," you break the kiss to tell him. It's not a question because you know he'll say yes. You know he'd walk to the other side of the earth just to see you smile, and you know he could never deny you of anything.

You take his hand, walking him back into your cabin, soon to be our cabin. He's quick to pick up his hat from the dusty ground, placing it on your coat hanger as he enters. You shut the door behind you, locking it, ready to spend the night crying and going over the years apart.

Javier's ready to stay by your side, this time promising to never leave, to never run, to stay loyal to what truly matters, and that's you.

[ask-de-writer]

NIGHTMARE NIGHT LESSON : MLP Fan Fiction : Tales to Read AFTER the Lights are OUT!

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NIGHTMARE NIGHT LESSON

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

2871 words

© 2017 by Glen Ten-Eyck

Writing begun 10/19/17

All rights reserved.  This document may not be copied or distributed on or to any medium or placed in any mass storage system except by the express written consent of the author.

//////////////

Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information remains intact.  They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

///////////////////////

The palomino waitress, Peanut Brittle, called, “Um, Boss!! They are back!  They are roosting on all the stronger branches of our hedges and up on the roof, too!”

Caramel Treat called back from the kitchen of her restaurant, Caramel Treat's Sweets, “I know, Peanut!  They are a little early, that's all!  I set out some meat for them in the back dining area!

“Don't worry about the vultures!  They are behaving, just like Roe promised that they would!  He says that the bats will be right on time!”

Peanut Brittle looked up at the big vultures roosting all around the outdoor dining plaza of Caramel Treat's Sweets.  They were looking right back at her, except for the ones that were staring at the customers.  And licking their beaks in anticipation!

The customers were clearly enjoying the bizarre show!  Caramel Treat's Sweets was known all over Equestria and the many lands beyond for being a place for superb food and for their unique Nightmare Night Celebrations!  Those presently dining were happily accepting the big black carrion birds as a part of this year's celebration.

After all, Peanut had already dyed her fur green and was wearing her traditional witch costume as she took orders.  Several goats disguised as small “Demons of the Underworld” lounged about, holding tridents or other instruments.

She glanced up at the big black birds and muttered to herself, “Only one more full day and it will be Nightmare Night!

“Caramel sure is keeping it close to her chest about who her secret Guest of Honor is!”

Caramel, whose extremely sharp werewolf's senses allowed her to hear the comment, replied, “That is because I have pulled off one of the best ones yet!  I don't want anypony trying to pull her away from our celebration!  I have special decorations ordered from Bleater's Hallow, too.  Those should arrive later today in a closed van.”

Shrugging, Peanut went back to taking orders.

Shortly she was joined by Fangrin, Caramel's mate, in his pony form.  He was gray all over.  His mane and tail were the same gray but darker.

He confided, “Caramel has not told me, either.  I do have a guess.  I saw the drawings for the dining area decorations.  More like a stage set, really.  There will be a dark throne at the center of it all.”

Almost instantly, Romaine, roving reporter for the Ponyville Prancer, and usually having light green fur with a darker green mane and tail, was there.  As part of the Caramel Treat's Sweets Nightmare Night staff, she was glamored to resemble a somewhat skeletal dark colored thestral.

She pointed out, “I have been with Caramel's Nightmare Night celebrations since the beginning.  May I quote you about the dark throne?  You know that I will not reveal anything without clearing it with Caramel first.”

Fangrin nodded thoughtfully.  “You may quote me on that but you must keep this whole thing secret until Caramel releases it, OK?”

“I promise it,” Romaine replied.  “Will there be a Dark Court to go with the Dark Throne?”

Fangrin snickered a bit as he said, “Yes, there will be!”

Further exchange was stopped by the arrival of a large delivery van pulled by six goats.  Their leader, a plain tan color, unhitched and trotted over to Fangrin.

“Pardon, Sir.  We have the decorations and set for the restaurant's Nightmare Night.  What shall we do with it?”

Caramel was out from the kitchen at once!  She was in her pony form too.  She conferred with the goat's leader and one of the pulling crew.  They were going over the set diagram.

“The tables will be reset like so.  Keep the throne shrouded until our guest arrives.  We need to work around our dining guests.  Got it?”

The goat leader nodded, “Got it!”  Turning to his crew, he called, “Put the van's loading ramp down!  We are starting the set up now! Don't do anything to disturb the diners.  We just have to work around them.”

Van doors were opened and a stout ramp secured.  The industrious goats began to unload many pieces and fabric curtains.  As the set began to take shape, it was clear that it was looking very like a large, dark, bare stonework, castle room.

Last, the goats wrestled out a large object shrouded in black cloth.  They set it up with care on a stage-like dais at the back of the room. In front of the dais, they set up Caramel's traditional cracked cauldron, supported on chains from a stout tripod.

The vultures had waited on the roof until all was ready.  They swooped about and found perches on ledges and rods provided for their use. The dark birds stared out to the various games and tables, suggestively licking their beaks!

All was in readiness for the big day and night tomorrow!  The van was now stored behind Caramel's restaurant.

It was late, almost closing time when Caramel's secret guest of honor arrived.

The call came from above!  “Make way!  Royal Guard landing!”

A flight of six Royal Armored Pegassi in the livery of Princess Luna landed in the street in front of Caramel Treat's!  They were in an open Vee formation, with the open side facing the now decorated restaurant!  Princess Luna landed lightly in the center of their formation and paced forward, into Caramel's shop!  Her Guard followed, breaking formation to enter through the tables across the front of the outdoor dining area and reforming as soon as they were clear of them.

It was a most impressive display of marching skill.  Luna turned to them and smiled.  “My good Guards, you are now released to recreation as you see fit.  You have served me well on the night flight to this place.

“I know that you have deep and honest concerns about my safety.  I am as well guarded here as I could be.  This event is being watched over by two Werewolves, Grumpter Goat, and the Litch King himself.

“If I may be so bold as to recommend it, the food here at Caramel Treat's is some of the finest to be found in the whole kingdom.  And whatever you get will be paid by Royal Largess.  The Lovely Witch pony here, is waiting to take your orders.”

Caramel and Fangrin came out and managed good courtly bows, in spite of being in their wolf forms.  They chorused, “Welcome to Caramel Treat's Nightmare, oh, Ruler of the Dream.”

The three disappeared into the restaurant proper.

Watching them go, one of the Guard spoke to Captain Lightning, “It still makes me nervous when the Princess just takes off like that with commoners.”

The Captain, relaxing at a table and examining the menu, replied, “It used to bother me too, Baron.  The worst risks that she has ever faced mostly came from the nobility.  Most of those were Counts or Dukes.  When she is among the Rom or supernatural beings, I really worry less.  They are VERY careful to protect both Princesses.”

“I understand that, Captain.  I am worried about all of the common ponies that she will be around with this Nightmare Night thing.”

The Captain turned to Peanut and requested, “The Clover Steak with Sea Grass Puffs, please.  The Honeyed Cider sounds perfect to go with it. Thank you.”

Returning his attention to the Baron, he pointed out, “Among those watching her, this visit is the Litch King.  A being who can not be dodged or avoided.  One who can stop any attack by simply saying Drop Dead! And make it stick!”

Sitting to the table, the worried Baron said, “I see.  Sort of like last Nightmare Night, when we went to that realm of monsters that Princess Luna said was on the edge of Nightmare.  She controls more than is apparent.”

“Precisely. I understand that the security arrangements for this event make Palace Security look like foals playing with rag dollies.”

The Baron looked about the place and commented, “Perhaps, but I see no sign of it.”  He paused thoughtfully for a few moments before adding, “It could be that it is so good that we do not see it.”

Back in the kitchen, Luna was delightedly cooking up the dinner orders as they came in.  “This is so much fun, Caramel!  This short order cooking is so different from banquet or snack cooking!  Let's see, this scramble will be fast, so I start it last . . .”

The two big Everfree Ridgeback Wolves watched tolerantly while Princess Luna took over their kitchen.  Caramel confided to Fangrin, “This was her price.  Uninterrupted cooking except when she is being part of our Nightmare Night Staff.”

Romaine quietly entered the kitchen and politely asked, “Your Highness, is it OK for me to get pictures of you cooking?  They will be part of my annual Caramel Treat's Nightmare Night story for the Ponyville Prancer.  I already got pictures of your arrival with the Guard.”

Princess Luna looked up from her cooking to exclaim, “Romaine!  I haven't seen you since we made that book deal to clobber the so-called Celestian Church!  Of course you can!  That is a blanket permission for the whole event!”

Caramel grinned, “You have the scoop, Romaine!  You know where the Magic Net mirror is!  Call it in and send your pictures!  We managed to keep this visit secret even from Luna's Protocol Ponies!”

With a final few pictures, Romaine nearly flew to the Magic Net mirror to call in her story and pictures!

The next morning, just after staff breakfast, the vultures all took to the air, forming a swirling cone of birds of ill omen, centered on Caramel Treat's!

Looking out through spy holes in the set, the staff saw a long line already formed!  Out front, a news pony was hawking the Ponyville Prancer's morning edition!

“Extra! Extra!  Read all about it!  Princess Luna has come to Caramel Treat's Nightmare Night Celebration!”

Caramel turned to Princess Luna and suggested, “Let's not keep them waiting, your Highness!”

Taking that as a cue, two of the goats pulled the cover off the object on the dais, revealing The NIGHTMARE THRONE.  Luna actually drew a breath of surprise.  

“That is a very good copy of my Nightmare Throne in the Fortress of Nightmare!”

One of the goats smiled at her.  “We had to work from our folklore!  I am glad that we got it done so well!”

The glamored goats, appearing to be twisted creatures of Nightmare, stepped forward on the set and began to beat the start of a Processional on deeply resonant kettle drums.  The doors of the set opened impressively.  Caramel and Fangrin stepped out and went each to one side of the doors.  In full view of every pony waiting, they transformed into their monster sized Wolf forms.

Luna's Guard stepped out by twos, glamored as thestrals.  They formed up before the throne and split to two ranks, one flanking each side of the throne.

Trumpets blew a fanfare while the deep drums kept their part of the processional going.  Princess Luna stepped forth, glamored to a Nightmare Alicorn.  She was all jet black, fur, mane and tail, her eyes glowing red coals, stark yellowed fangs in her jaws and small curls of flame were arising from her nostrils!

She paced forward faced the crowd and blew out flare of fire.  The Nightmare then ascended to the Throne of Nightmare.

She called, “Prepare the Cauldron of Fate!”

The Cauldron was brought forth by a skeletal Alicorn, a witch pony and a Goat skull with fangs, glowing eyes and a candle burning between its horns.  The goat's body was invisible but clearly supporting his leg of the cauldron's tripod.

They set it up some meters in front of the throne.  The witch touched it with her wand and mist began to arise and boil over the lip and some out through a prominent crack in the side of it.

The big black gryphon, her flight feathers outlined in stark red and her eyebrows picked out in it too, admitted the foals and their escorts in groups of five.  Each “trial” game was set up for five to do at once.

She whispered to one foal who was looking worried, “The Nightmare does not expect you to be perfect.  If you try at each game, that is enough.”

Soon the area was an orderly madhouse of foals trying their luck at the games before “Advancing” to the Cauldron of Fate!  There, they chanted “Nightmare Night!  What a fright!  Give me something sweet to bite!”

Plunging eager hooves into the famous Foal Bowl cauldron, they brought out treats for their loot bags!

Besides taking photos of the unfolding event, Romaine had a sign up.

Your picture with the Nightmare!

Only ONE Silver, rolled in a tube

Only TWO Silver, framed!

All proceeds go to the Widows and Orphans Fund to feed and house the needy.  All donations will be matched from Royal Largess.

In spite of the fairly steep price, there were many lined up to get their pictures made!  As he brought out a new stack of frames, one of the glamored goats commented, “It is good thing that when we heard about the photo thing, we brought our frame shop along in the van with the set!  You are keeping us hopping!”

It was approaching noon when a goat, glamored as a creature of the underworld, began pushing a cart down the line waiting to get in.  He had small cheap snacks and an order book.  For those who wanted more than the snacks, he took orders and gave out numbers.

Soon a second cart came down the line, delivering the ordered meals.  And more snacks, of course!

Princess Luna was having a ball, hamming it up for the many photos of her and foals!  A favorite pose was her possessively gripping a costumed foal and making a threatening blast of flame.  Since the flame was a carefully designed glamor, it was totally harmless but delighted the foals!

As evening came on, big cressets on either side of the throne lit up with flaring flames of blue, yellow and green!  Again, like her flaming breath, it was carefully designed glamors, totally harmless but a lot of fun!

Among the new evening glamors that Grumpy was managing for Caramel and Fangrin was causing the whole set and cast to glow in a spectral and ghastly pale blue.

Oohs and aahs of appreciation for the effect arose from the line.  The bats made their scheduled appearance, fluttering all about the set! The glow and the cressets were drawing in tasty moths and the little guys were having a field day!

The well fed vultures were happily perched where they could look menacing and enjoying the whole show!

A pegasus in full Royal Court attire fluttered down, landing self importantly in the midst of the set!  Without preamble, he demanded, “YOUR HIGHNESS!!  It was most difficult to find you!  Your presence is REQUIRED in Canterlot, immediately!  You must stop this foolishness with these commoners at once and come with me!”

He was moving to block the next foal in line for a picture as he spoke.

Princess Luna's pale midnight magic, shot through with stars, reached out and slapped him from his feet!  It gently picked up the filly in her Princess Celestia costume and brought her to the dais.

Ignoring the outcries of the outraged Count, she asked softly, “How would you like your picture to be made?”

The filly thought for only a second.  “I'd like one of those vultures perching on my right wing and a couple of the bats on my left!  Want to be sort of rearing like Celestia facing down the Nightmare!  Can we do that?”

For answer, a smiling Nightmare brought a vulture from its perch and herded a pair of bats to the filly's wings.  She helped them all to be rearing and looking menacing towards her.  She reared in her own turn and held them all posed with her magic while Romaine got the picture!

While waiting to have it framed, the filly pointed to the fallen count and asked, “Isn't he awfully important?”

Luna gave her a hug as she replied, “He certainly seems to think so. The answer is that he is wrong.  You, your dad and mom, and all of the other so called common folk of Equestria are who is really important.

“All of his wealth and position rests on the work of all of you.  You are all the foundation upon which the house of the nobility rests. Without the foundation, the house would collapse.  

“It works the other way too, dear.  A foundation with no building is but useless stones.  Together, they form a whole building.  But never forget this.  It rests on the solid foundation that is all of you.

“That is why I am here.  I honor the solid foundation of all of Equestria.”

Admiring her framed picture, the filly replied, “Wow!  I got a real treasure, this Nightmare Night!  And it wasn't just this picture! Thank You, Your Highness!”

~THE END~

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[garudabluffs]

yeah, sure...

Sakya-Kosala War – Fall of the Sakyas

In the latter half of the 6th century B.C. the Sakyas clan came under the suzerainty of Kosala. The Pali texts throw some light on the circumstances which led to the final extinction of Sakyan liberty by Kosalan aggressions. King Prasenjit of Kosala was a great admirer of Buddha and the Sakyas, the clan in which Buddha was born. Therefore, he sought the hand of a Sakya princess. But the Sakyans being too proud of their lineage, refused to give the hand of a Sakya princess to him. They committed a fraud on Prasenjit by offering a slave girl to him as a Sakya princess. A son, named Vidudabha was born out of this wedlock. Meanwhile the fraud was detected. The flickering flame of Sakyan independence was extinguished in the gale that arose over this fraud. Kosalan royal house promised to take a stern revenge on the Sakyas. When Vidudabha ascended the Kosalan throne, he invaded the Sakya country. He perpetrated a brutal massacre of the Sakyas, sparing not even the women and children. This brought the virtual downfall of the famous autonomous Sakya clan, in which was born one of the greatest teachers of the world.

READ MORE https://imp.center/i/sakya-clan-sakya-buddhism-sakyas-269/

September 29, 2008

Story of Prince Virudhaka & the Massacre of Sakya Tribe

http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Courtyard/1652/Story/Massacre.html

“Ancient India was a country of many Kingdoms, and wars frequently broke out among them. But, according to the teachings of the Buddha, the Law of Karma is always applicable to individuals as well as to whole nations. One should therefore treat the citizens of other nations with all the due respects they deserved.

According to historical records, the Buddha's home country, Kapilavastu, had a very strong neighbour known as the Kingdom of Kosala, whose King was named Prasenajit (in Pali, Pasenadi). These two countries had numerous conflicts for many generations.

Before the Buddha was enlightened, King Prasenajit sent an embassador to the Sakya people (the citizens of Kapilavastu) to court one of their Royal Princesses. But, the Sakya was a proud people. They considered the Kosalans to be barbarians and refused to send in a Princess as a bride. But, King Prasenzjit was a military strong man, and so, to avoid a bloodshed, the Sakya General Mahanama, told the Buddha's father, King Suddhodana:

"I had an idea. Kosala is a very strong country militarily and politically. If we had a conflict with them, we may not be a match. I have a beautiful and attractive slave. Let us lie to them that she was my daughter and send her out as a Royal bride."

However, during those days, marriages between two different classes (such as between a Princess and a worker) were unheard of. This is of course cheating and therefore the Buddha disagreed, saying that it was not a proper manner to treat another nation with lies. But, no one listened and so a slave girl from Kapilavastu was sent to King Prasenajit to become a Royal Queen.

The King and Queen of Kosala soon gave birth to Prince Virudhaka (literally, precious stones). The Royal couple later became followers of the Buddha. When Prince Virudhaka was about eight years old, he was sent to Kapilavastu to learn weaponry, specializing in arrows.

That was just the time when the Buddha was returning to his hometown to see his family ten years after his great renunciation. The Sakyas was of course very excited. They built a huge, magnificent and gorgeous platform to welcome the Buddha back home, decorated with beautiful carvings and with incense sticks. The workers than put up a holy altar to prepare for Buddha's sermon.

Prince Virudhara was just a small kid. He played in the streets of the city with his school friends and soon wondered into the huge platform. When the Sakya soldiers saw him playing in what was considered to be a holy altar, their Commander got furious - the descendant of a slave should not be seen inside a Royal building and mixed with high class Brahmins. He ordered the soldiers to kick out the young Prince Virudhaka and the workers to resurface and repaint any areas touched by a lowly human being. Such areas were considered to be dirty and had to be covered with fresh soil or paint.

Prince Virudhara was angry of this whole affair and vowed that, "When I become King of Kosala, I will take revenge against the Sakyas."

When the Buddha learned of the incident, he knew that the fate of his own country was dated, because everything that the Sakya people did was against international protocol.

After King Suddhodana (the Buddha's father) had passed away, General Mahanama became the King of Kapilavastu. Many years had passed and there had been peace between the two countries because both the King and Queen of Kosala (together with Crown Prince Jeta) were the Buddha's followers. But the world is such an impermanent place to live that one day, peace came to an end when King and Queen Prasenajit went outside his palace to inspect his own subjects. Prince Virudhara had staged a military coup, sizing power from the King and killing his step brother the Crown Prince Jeta.

In the confusion, King Prasenajit and his "slave" Queen fled to Kapilavastu to seek political asylum. Soon King Prasenajit, now about 80 years old, died of sickness and was buried with much pomp and circumstances.

Meanwhile, Prince Virudhara, having seized power, announced that he was now King of Kosala and declared war on Kapilavastu.

When the Buddha learned of the impending conflict, he tried to stop the advancing Kosalan army by meditating under a dead tree on the face of the advancing King Virudhara.

The King did not like the Buddha at all, but he stopped his chariot and asked him, "You should be meditating under a Bodhi tree, not under a dead tree."

"You are right, " replied the Buddha, "but what is the use of a Bodhi tree without love and peace?"

It was customary those days in India that an army had to retreat if they came across a holy religious man on the way, and what they met was the Buddha. Therefore, following international protocol of those days, King Virudhara ordered his army to return home.

But soon King Virudhara mounted a second assault and a third assault, but each time he met the Buddha seating underneath a dead tree facing the advancing army. So according to ancient Indian international protocol, the Kasolan Army returned home.

The fourth time, however, the Buddha was not there, and King Virudhara's army marched straight towards Kapilavastu.

"My Lord Buddha, " said Ananda, one day at the monastery, "why are you so sad?"

"The Sakya people will be massacred in a week," replied the Buddha sadly. "They had broken international protocol and insulted a Royal Prince from their neighbourhood Kingdom. They never felt sorry of what they did nor gave an apology. No matter what his ancestors was, a human being should be treated with respect. Therefore, the karma of the Sakya people had ripened and there is little I can do to help."

"But, that is my country," protested Maha-Maudgalyayana, one of Buddha's Senior student. "I will do whatever I can to help Kapilavastu out!"

"It is their sin and no one will escape the law of karma." said the Buddha. "If they do not confess that they are wrong, no one can save them!"

The Kingdom of Kapilavastu was now surrounded by the Kasolan troops. Maha-Maudgalyayana, an expert in performing mystic powers, flew into the city and put 500 Sakyas into his begging bowl. Then, he took the bowl with him and flew out to safety. But, when he open his begging bowl and looked inside, there weren't any people. All he had was a bowl of bloody water! Now, he understood that the Law of karma is the supreme law of the Universe and no one is above it!

After many days of war, General Mahanama gave in and surrendered. During ancient times, "surrender" also meant death and King Virudhaka immediately ordered a massacre of all 30,000 Sakyas.

"No matter what, " said General Mahanama to King Virudhaka, "you are still my adopted grandson. I have a last request."

"What is it?"

"It is not easy to kill that many people. I beg you to let some people out. I am now going to submerge into the river while my people are fleeing. Once I come out of the water, you can start the killing." said General Mahanama.

"Good," King Virudhaka bursted into laughter. "I want to see how long can you stay under water."

So the Sakyas started to flee, and King Virudhaka laughed loudly at the embarrassment of his enemies, thinking that it was funny to see them getting out in a mess. But when most of the Sakyas had fled, King Virudhaka, became curious, "how come General Mahanama stays under water for so long?" He sent his soldiers to check it out.

"Your Majesty, " replied his soldier after the investigation, "General Mahanama is dead. He gave up his life to save his own people." bursting into tears as he made his report.

Thus, King Virudhaka, the son of the Buddha's devoted follower, killed his own family and massacred another nation. But shortly after his victory, a fire occurred in his Palace. Was it an "accident" or was it an act of his enemies, or was it a fire from Heaven, no one knew. But no one seemed to care and he and his Queen were killed in that fire.

Finally, another Buddha's follower, King Ajatasatru, consolidated both Kingdoms to form the Empire of Rajagrha.

READ MORE https://venyifa.blogspot.com/2008/09/story-of-prince-virudhaka-massacre-of.html

[knightofbalance-13]

RE:RWBY Chapter 3 Review

http://archiveofourown.org/works/10099949/chapters/22790120

Students gathered in Beacon Academy’s large auditorium for an opening assembly. Ruby and Jaune managed to join to the crowd once they saw first-yeats flood towards the innards of the school.

Yeah, again this is a constant problem throughout the story as the author doesn’t understand that you need to add a bit more than what is necessary to keep an audience excited. Detail is the name of the game as it helps the reader visualize and see what is going on. Even in the original scene, I could tell the audience was excited due to the chatter and slight movement which made me excited as well. Here it sounds like everyone is like a robot. awaiting their orders.

“O-oh, okay! Bye…!” He sighed. “She thinks she has it bad, I can’t hold anyone’s attention for more than ten minutes. I gotta listen to Dad more…”

Another problem: Jaune’s original line “No where m I going to find another nice, quirky girl” was both cute, understandable and human. This feels...awkward and artificial due to the change in Jaune’s speech pattern.

“Yang Xaio-Long!” She announced as she walked up to her. “Oh hey, how’s your first day going, sis?” She waved happily, completely unaware of the trouble she experienced in such a short amount of time.

Um, again, detail. Maybe add in: “ up to her, ready to let out her frustrations and woes onto her elder sister.” Would have been more interesting.

“You’re lucky we weren’t blown off the side of the cliff!” Weiss warned. “Oh my god, you really exploded…” Yang did her best to contain laughter.

Yeah, in the original, Yang’s voice expressed surprise at Ruby being literal as well as Ruby’s compliants were being said just as we were seeing Weiss’ angry face thus it was one joke after another. Just as well, the way the Yang line is structured is just bad considering it should go like this: “Yang said, trying her best to contain her laughter.”

“It was an accident! An accident!” Weiss held up a pamphlet in front of Ruby’s face entitled “Dust for Dummies” and shoved it towards her hands. “The Schnee Dust Company” she began, “is not responsible for any injuries or damages sustained while operating a Schnee Dust Company product. Although not mandatory, the Schnee Family highly encourages their customers to read and familiarize themselves with this easy to follow guide to Dust applications and practices in the field. Well-readiness in the field of Dust applications can lead to none or fewer legal issues with the Schnee Dust Company and its providers.”

Describe Ruby’s lines as crying out and then it becomes funny. Weiss shoving the pamphlet into Ruby’s hands may not seem like a bad thing but it was the punchline of Weiss’ “read this and never talk to me again” line. Now, the line will be said without a punchline or a joke.

And Weiss’ talk is nowhere near as funny with it being speed up or seeing Ruby being overwhelmed. In fact, it’s not even funny just....there.

“I noticed your Dust cartridges,” Weiss said in reference to Ruby’s ammo belt. “Even if you do use an inferior and cheaper brand, that’s no reason you can’t familiarize yourself with proper safety protocol. For the sake of me and everyone at this school.” “U-um, it’s not really all that ch-cheap-” Ruby spluttered. Weiss ignored this. “You really wanna start make things up to me, dolt? “Absolutely?” “Read this, and don't ever speak to me again.”

yeah, the interjection of the two extra lines are completely superfluous and adds nothing. You could edit them out and it wouldn’t lower the quality at all. In fact, the joke of Ruby being awkward is now overstaying it’s welcome and becoming pretty damn boring.

“Look, uh, it sounds like you two just got off on the wrong foot. Why don't you start over and try to be friends, okay?” She offered. Clearly this girl had no intention to let things go with her little sister.

One word can make all the difference, like adding “hopelessly” after “offered.” Without that word, the lines here are kind of confusing as I don’t know why Yang is doing something she knows she’ll fail at while “hopelessly” implies she’s taking a chance.

“Yeah!” Weiss exclaimed with sudden and obviously-not-forced enthusiasm. “And we can paint our nails and try on clothes and talk about cute boys, like tall, blond, and scraggly over there!”

Narration is suppose to be factual and informal, not sarcastic. That defeats the purpose of narration. Everyone knows that.

“Wow, really?!” Ruby asked, far too optimistic for Weiss’s sense of humor.

Weiss offered no response but dead silence and a very disgruntled glare.

Okay, what narration style is this? This all over the place third person narration is something that beginners have hammered out of them by the second chapter. I know this because I had this problem in my very first work and didn’t repeat it.

Also, waiting for the punchline. You know, the frank “No” Weiss says that is the payoff to the build up of her sarcasim, Ruby’s hopefulness and her glare? ... Not happening? Then your joke falls flat. Also, Jaune’s “I’m a natural blonde” was set up by Weiss mentioning him but that’s also edited out so that’s another build up wasted.

A man walked on stage and the room began to quiet down. Ruby squinted and saw none other than Professor Ozpin make his way to a microphone stand with Professor Goodwitch in tow. Ozpin seemed to stand with regal straightness despite reliance on a cane. For that matter, Ruby felt like his eyes lingered on her for just a moment despite his sweeping, aloof gaze. A very unsettling, ghostly presence. He quietly adjusted the microphone to his height, and gave a slight cough to draw the crowd.

Normally this would be praiseable given that it’s fine detail...but it shows the author is too lazy to do it for everything else which is what really needs it. Youw atsed detail on Ozpin when this detail should have gine to the Weiss and Ruby part or to Ozpin’s introduction.

“Kind of a creepy guy, huh?” Yang asked, hardly respectful without the experience Ruby had. “Hey, he’s just a little strange. I promise he’s got it together more in person.” “Didn’t sound all there to me.” “Maybe he’s getting on in years,” interrupted Jaune Arc, who appeared between them. “You know, my grandpa hasn’t been able to tell me or my sisters apart since I was six.”

Creepy? I never got a creepy vibe from Ozpin. Your language from ebfore fits that but doesn't fit his character: Those description are better suited for Salem NOT Ozpin who is a mentor character and thus this unsettling vibe would conflict with that. And removing that and replacing it with creepy is both a downgrade and makes him superfluous.

Also, Jaune line here is...just dull and sad for people with Alzheimer disease. The blond line was much funnier.

Pyrrha Nikos commanded attention wherever she went. The young girl wished to keep things quiet on her first day at Beacon, but students who had heard of her fighting prowess and seen her face from magazine to cereal box refused to give her that peace. Weiss Schnee, the queen of entitlement, hardly attracted a crowd herself but made sure to make herself the forefront of Pyrrha’s followers. “Oh, Pyrrha, your gown looks simply divine!” Weiss kicked off a torrent of compliments, even though her night garb advertised nothing but modesty. Ironically the white-haired girl dressed richly and without shame of her wealth. Hundred-yard stares of awe and envy showered her every move. Everyone in the ballroom must have gawked to some extent; all except that scraggly blond boy who cluelessly wondered what made all the ruckus.

Okay, again, this clusterfuck of a narration style is giving me a headache as this gets hammered out of you mere days within writing. It’s too specific for normal 3 person and two wide spread to eb character specific.

This praising Pyrrha thing only worked because Jaune was there to provide a direct foil and counterpart to Weiss at the moment, bring misery for Weiss who at the time was the perfect joke magnet due to her bitchy side being the only side we see so far. Now there's no misery except Pyrrha who is too kind and composed for it to be funny. Also Jaune not noticing Weiss is very OOC.

Speaking of: You showed you can do detail now mind explaining what Weiss is wearing? no? The why is it so attractive?

“I know I do!” She purred seductively through her teeth. Several shirtless guys had taken the opportunity to flaunt themselves before they turned in. “Oh come on, after your sixteenth birthday, I don’t think he’d want you having sleepovers anymore.” “Ah yes, Lilac,” she reminisced. “Really made it a ‘sweet’ sixteen.” “Gross,” Ruby shuddered. “Is it really that much more gross than the time I walked in on you polishing Crescent Rose ?” “It’s very different!”

because the joke about Ruby being sexual attracted to weapons didn’t die out after Volume 1 ended...there years ago!

Also, ruby’s grossed out by Yang mentioning sex but had a sexual depiction of Blake?...Not only is this inconsistent with this version of Ruby, it’s OOC as Ruby would probably have a joke like that swing over her head! God, you know a joke is unsalvageable when Taiyang is mentioned and I’m not smiling like a goofball.

PS: Jaune was suppose to wlak in here and make Yang roll her eyes which is funny because Jaune was in a onesie which has lead to many a funny fanart. Here we have...a sex joke and a joke that went stale two years ago. See why jaune is important?

“Whatcha writing?” Yang asked, head tilted towards the scroll. “Just a letter to the gang back home. I promised to tell them all about Beacon and how things are going.”

Okay, the incosnistancies in the author’s writing style is pissing me off. it’s too robotic to be casual and too casual to be informal! It’s really ruining my experience.

Next: Ruby was writing a letter in the original script which kind of reinforced her being simpler than the others, hence “a simple soul.” Typing doesn’t work the same.

“The girl looked over her book to see Ruby unsuccessfully struggle against Yang as she leads her sister over to spot below a vast ballroom window. “Hel-looooo! “ Yang sang, “I believe you two may know each other?”Ruby, right.” She put her book in her lap and leaned back. “You exploded earlier and got that Schnee pissed off.”

Yet another example of animation failing to translate to written form. In the original we had Ruby visibly AND audibly fighting against Yang while Yang’s line was delivered in a cheerful and funny way. This lacks that charm and makes it just dull.

“Ruby, right.” She put her book in her lap and leaned back. “You exploded earlier and got that Schnee pissed off.” “Uh, um…yes?” “Made for a pretty good first day,” she said with a smirk. “See? She likes you,” Yang whispered as she nudged Ruby. “Keep it up!” “I don’t know what to say!” She hissed back, glad that she had the girl’s approval but completely lost on what conversation to make.

See here, this just feels artificial because Blake was so factual and netural about the incident in the last chapter that we would think Blake wouldn’t say something like that whereas the original just had Blake mention she exploded and Ruby tried to shake her hand she sniffed Ruby, reinforcing her awkward personality naturally instead of this unnatural crap.

“Blake,” she sighed. She had just began to pick up her book when Yang asked. “Well, Blake, I'm Yang, Ruby's older sister! I like your bow! “Thanks,” Blake said, a little irritated now. “It goes great with your, ya’know, pajamas!” “Mm..?” Blake tilted her head, impatient for them to either get on with the conversation or leave her be. Yang thought she even saw the bow twitch with annoyance. Ruby laughed uncomfortably as Yang continued to throw out topics.

Okay, this is where the narration style crashes and burns as I cannot tell what is going with it. Is Yang making the observations, is Blake , is the author? It’s mixing in all these things that do not work together!

Also, Blake was perfectly fine before with Ruby whereas in the original she was being factual and showed annoyance earlier on, displaying she didn’t want to talk naturally. Now it feels like Blake is annoyed because “plot!”

“Well, that's why we're here. To make it better.” “Oh, I am so proud of my baby sister!” Yang coddled. She smothered Ruby with a tight hug, which she valiantly fought and lost against. “Cut it out!” Ruby kicked at Yang’s legs to knock her down and they ended up in a pile on the floor. Somehow Yang’s hug turned into a headlock and soon enough sleeping bags were tossed tangled beneath them and pillows flew across the room. Blake sunk into her place against the wall further as eyes turned on the arguing sisters.

If they were being that rambunctious in the original, Glynda would storm in and scold them or at the least someone besides Weiss would come up and tell them to stop.

“What in the world is going on over here?!” No one but Weiss Schnee stormed in on the scene. “Don't you realize some of us are trying to sleep-” Yang and Weiss locked eyes, fed up with each others presence. “Oh, not you again!” They both shouted in exasperation. “Shh! Guys, she's right! People are trying to sleep!” “Oh, now you're on my side!” “I was always on your side!” “Yeah, what's your problem with my sister? She's only trying to be nice!” “She's a hazard to my health!”

Do I even need to point out how the original surpasses this due to voice acting and Blake’s expression?

Blake sighed and closed her book for good. She had been ripped from her peaceful night but couldn’t say the bickering didn’t entertain her some, especially with Weiss angry at an innocent Ruby. Something about the way that girl got worked up gave her a deep satisfaction, but that she would keep to herself.

Why would Blake not know why making Weiss upset satisfy her? She’s a Schnee and from her view Weiss is a spoiled privileged brat that caused her kind Fanaus and her comrades the White Fang trouble for years?

... Blake’s not a member of the White Fang in this is she?... It’d say how dumb that is and how by removing that Blake should be a completely different person but I’ve got house work to do.

Final thoughts: The writing is boring and uniteresting, lacking detail and comedic timing to be engaging or funny. The changes just make the story worse and the narration pisses me off.

[phenyxsnest]

Legend Debunkers

@awesomecat42 on Fan...demon: I'm not really that into bands or anything, but if you replaced BABBA with, say, the Mythbusters or something, this is exactly how I would react! Mythbusters... OMG SWEET GRUNKLE OF ALCOR YES YES YES!!! What if the TAU had it's own version of the Mythbusters and after the Transendence they also started busting myths about real supernatural things and magic and stuff cuz that stuff was real now and what if one time they summoned Alcor for a myth and you just know that adorable little nerd would totally geek out over the whole thing and everyone would just be like what even and this needs to be a thing and I really want to write this now but I can't write worth crap and please write this fic please please please I'LL GIVE YOU MY BLOOD!!!

Every so often, I manage to deliver. Goals for 2017: deliver on random fic requests.

On AO3 // On FF.net

Legend Debunkers had been on for years. It had a dedicated following and over three hundred episodes to its name, alongside a cemented, permanent spot in pop culture.

They'd moved on from urban legends a few seasons back, focusing on movie myths and viewer submissions for the most part, though occasionally returning to their roots. They were more than enough to keep the show going, even after the Transcendence hit and everything had changed, as people began to adjust.

But the viewer requests were changing, and there was a cry for help in most of them.

The world had changed, and suddenly many of the myths, the ones that were supposed to be superstitions or stories, were true. And people didn't know how to deal with that.

And while the hosts, Aaron and Jared, might not have known anything about magic, they did know science, and get enough of that and you could figure out just about anything.

Finding volunteers to help test some of them were going to be difficult. Neither host particularly wanted to do the myths that might end in someone getting hurt, even if said someone was supernatural. They and the build team might have taken stupid risks now and again in the heat of the moment, but keeping everyone involved safe was still important.

So no myths about 'does x hurt y' or 'will x part of y supernatural creature really do z', though they were considering testing ones like 'can vampires cross running water'.

It was a balancing act – which myths would help people, which would hurt people if it were common knowledge, and which ones would lead to Aaron and Jared being able to make things explode.

Plus, think of all the things they could blow up now that they had magic!

Of course, it took awhile to get all of it going. The production team had to find experts in the area of magic, and those weren't exactly thick on the ground just yet. Despite everything, some things really just couldn't be tested without an expert around, and magic wasn't understood enough yet to mess with.

With magic so new to the rest of the world, most of the people who knew anything about magic had been the weirdos in the old world, witches or freaks or crackpots, and some of them were still bitter enough about how they'd been treated to refuse to share their knowledge with others yet.

Of course, there were others, eager to spread the word, but there were also people out there spreading false information to further their own agendas, make people afraid of this new world and try to change it back.

Well, Legend Debunkers wasn't going to stand by that if they could help it. They'd helped people before, with their episodes on what to do if you were in a sinking car or myths about holiday trees, so they could do it now. No way they were just going to stand by while people spread around false information if they could help it.

And blow things up in the meantime, but just as a bonus. These explosions were sparkly, now that they had magic!

It took them four seasons before the demon myths began coming in.

That...was a problem.

Because while Jared and Aaron were willing to do some pretty dumb things for this show, summoning a demon was crossing the line by a bit.

But people were clamoring for answers, and their mailboxes were overflowing with requests.

Eventually, they were going to have to cave.

It took months of pursuing leads, examining information they had been given and found to be incorrect, before the production team found a possible lead.

Demons were treacherous, and no matter what precautions one took, it seemed that they always twisted everything to their advantage.

But, it seemed, they may have hit on a possible answer.

It was dangerous, and had a higher than comfortable possibility of going wrong, but it was also about the only thing that was going to give real answers.

They were going to summon up a demon, and they might have found just the one to fit their needs.

Of course, it wasn't going to be that easy – they were going to have to blur out a lot of things so no one watching would be able to copy the circle they were using, and both blurring out their mouths and covering their words with bleeping was going to be expensive.

But with editing and time constraints...they may just need that footage, blurred and edited as it was.

To increase their chances of a good summoning, the production team sent out inquiries to Gravity Falls, hoping someone there, in the town their chosen demon had claimed as his own, would be willing to help.

Alcor was somewhat unpredictable, but there were enough stories and documented instances of fair deals, being kind to children, and the like to make them choose him as their final informant.

Demon hunter Wendy Corduroy, only twenty five but already gaining a reputation, answered their call.

No one was quite sure a demon hunter was the best choice for summoning a demon, but Corduroy assured them over and over that she and Alcor were cool, and that he'd talk to her.

And since Jared and Aaron were still hesitantly enthusiastic but not sure about doing this, well...

Calling on an expert seemed like the best idea if they were going through with the episode.

Though the fact that she had them ordering so much candy to do this with made them wonder about Corduroy's expertise. Why did they need so much candy to summon a demon, anyway? Shouldn't they have to get, like, more pigs or something?

Either way, if they didn't get killed doing this, it was going to make for an amazing episode.

Corduroy showed up, just as promised, though the production team did have to pay for her flight both ways from Gravity Falls and send a rental car to pick her up from the airport.

She sauntered in, waving at the crews setting up as she went, and introduced herself to Jared and Aaron, standing hip-shot and listening as they went over basic safety protocol and how filming worked.

“Okay, so you dudes want to film your opener then?” she asked when they were done. “I'm just gonna get this circle drawn, oh, and make sure your crews don't get a good look at this circle, 'kay? Alcor's kiiiiinda picky about who uses this version. I've got a sort of truce with him so I can, but he'll be pretty upset if it gets broadcast.”

“Don't worry, we're not showing anything, it's all getting blurred out,” Aaron was quick to reassure her. “And here, we've got the bleep helmet for when you do the summon,” he added, holding out a helmet. He plopped it on his head and flipped down the front, and a plastic strip with curse word replacement symbols landed in front of his mouth. “See? And we'll be bleeping out the words. Only safe way to do it.”

“You guys are really taking this seriously,” Wendy laughed, accepting the helmet. “Dorky, but practical. Did you get all the candy I asked for?”

“Over here, Ms. Corduroy,” a production assistant said, gesturing. “Why don't we go over it with you and get everything set up while Jared and Aaron shoot some of the interim sequences, then we can film your introduction and get things started?”

“Okay, first things first,” Corduroy, who insisted they call her 'Wendy', said as the hosts and crew gathered around the circle she'd meticulously drawn on the floor. “I want you to make sure you cut out the summoning. You can show Alcor showing up, but not how I got him here. And make sure you plaster this thing with warnings, 'cuz Alcor knows me and we get on so he's gonna be fair with me, but he's still a demon, yanno? Gonna be different if you're not from the Falls and you try summoning him for a dare or something. He puts up with a lot from us. Seriously, he puts up with all  kinds of stuff for Gravity Fallers.”

“So it's like bringing a bomb into your house and hoping it doesn't explode,” Aaron said helpfully.

“Exactly!” Wendy said brightly. “I'm assuming you read over the stuff I sent you, so we're good on that front. Okay, dudes, let's get this get this party started. Oh, and you might want to let me do the talking when he first gets here. I'll let you know when you can take over.” She dug out a small lancet, pausing when Jared spoke.

“Wait, don't we have to sacrifice something?” he said. “I'm all for not doing it if we don't have to but still. We need to do this right the first time if we can.”

“Eh, just a bit of blood'll work to get him here, since we're not asking a lot, just information,” Wendy said with a shrug. “If you have something around that'll work, I'd rather not poke myself again.”

“I'm sure Jared has something,” Aaron said, adding to the camera as Jared walked off, “probably his lunch. The Hymeran satisfies his primal hungers in a civilized fashion.”

Joking aside, Jared did find some blood somewhere, enough to use to summon Alcor. No one wanted to ask where.

It didn't take much blood, not with this circle.

With a firm nod, Wendy flipped the cover of the bleeping helmet over her mouth to obscure it from view and dripped the blood into the circle, calling the proper, formal incantation to call for Alcor.

“Stella splendida, te invoco. Te invoco ut facias voluntatem meam. Dico nomen tuum: Alcor!”

The circle sparked and smoked, and a ball of smoke rose from the center. Then, between one blink and the next, Alcor floated there, with less dramatics than anyone on the Legend Debunkers crew expected.

He looked on edge, claws bared and braced, but relaxed when he saw Wendy standing hip shot at the edge of the circle, smirking slightly.

Then he saw the Legend Debunkers and the crew.

Alcor's eyes went huge, and his fisted hands came up to cover his mouth before he began to vibrate.

Just as everyone was beginning to worry they'd somehow broken the demon, Alcor let out a high pitched squeal, happy fists shaking with excitement.

“Oh my gosh oh my gosh ohmigosh!” he squealed, shedding glitter, and Wendy coughed, a cough that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

Alcor froze, a blush covering his face. He coughed into a fist, attempting to recover his dignity, still shedding glitter that was rapidly disappearing and slowly stopping.

“Wh̷y͡ have̸ ̧y͜ou ̡summ͠o̧ne̵d ͟me?͡” Alcor asked, a faint blush still coating his cheeks, and hoo boy that echo was going to play merry hell with the audio. “C̸òrduro͢y̡?”

“Don't look at me like that, dude, they wanted to talk to you,” Wendy said, pointing a thumb at Jared and Aaron. “I'm here as a go-between. Cameras are rolling, by the way. We've got candy over here to trade you for answers.”

Those eerie eyes went wide again, and turned from Wendy to the hosts, the echo dropping almost entirely from his voice. “Wait. You. Want answers. From me?”

Wendy gestured at them, obviously letting the hosts say their piece.

“Ah, yes,” Aaron said. “We have a few myths about demons to bust, and we needed experts. So we want a deal with you.”

Alcor was vibrating again, and Wendy rolled her eyes. “Chill, dude. We don't need you exploding into happy glitter again. There's way too many places to lose it here, they'd be finding bits of demon for years.”

Alcor stuck his tongue out at Wendy, but he did stop vibrating.

Aaron and Jared looked at each other doubtfully. They'd known Wendy Corduroy was from Gravity Falls and therefore somewhat used to having Alcor around, but this seemed far more familiar than they had expected.

“Look, dude, they got candy and it's time to make a deal,” Wendy was saying in the background as Alcor kept sneaking little glances at them. “I gave them the prep talk. Say, so much candy per hour?”

Alcor glanced around Wendy at the candy piled up in large, plain cardboard boxes, and they could all see him doing the mental calculations. “Those boxes all full?” he asked.

“I know you, dude,” Wendy said, crossing her arms and smirking. “All full, and each one's different.”

“An hour per box,” Alcor declared. “And I get to see the footage before it airs, and have final say over the episodes. You know, to make sure nothing dangerous airs. Oh, and I get to decide which questions I answer. And I want autographs from Aaron and Jared.”

“Two hours per box,” Wendy countered, “And final say over the episode, along with discretion over answers and what you have to deal with in terms of experiments, provided you play along to a point, for the autographs. Takes a lot of time and effort to edit these things, yanno. Plus an assurance you're not going to hurt anybody. I'll be sticking around, dude.”

Alcor eyed the boxes again, calculating. Each box was huge, roughly twenty five pounds each, and each box held a good five hundred bars.

It was a bit steep perhaps, but on the other hand, they would be pretty intense hours of testing and questioning, and it was possible they'd have to call Alcor back tomorrow to finish. At two hours a box, they should have enough candy for two days of experiment filming.

“Okay, deal,” Alcor said. He rubbed his hands together in glee. “Let's get started!”

The episode ended up as one of the most popular Legend Debunkers episodes in the show's history, despite the amounts of footage shot when Alcor, Aaron, and Jared began geeking out that later had to be cut and destroyed. (Although Wendy did claim a copy of it first, as part of her payment.)

It was completely worth trying to explain to the people in charge why they had such a massive bill for candy.