#i really do feel bad for warehouse and it employees if it's really some sort of a tech infrastructure collapse

[themslash]

it's a very mysterious type situation. i saw a lot of red flag big corpo stuff in the news articles i read. allegedly they're putting out a statement on "monday the earliest" but i guess i'll just say that buying up their most popular competition in this country and making a deal with temu of all places surely cannot be contributing to some sort of an influx of packages they may or may not be prepared for. but that's just my interpretation. see you on monday

[casspurrjoybell-33]

Wreckless - Floating Embers

*Warning Adult Content*

Finnegan

Five hours later the sun has risen and the fire is contained enough to take stock of the damage even from the barricade I'm behind.

It's not a total loss, at least not to my untrained eye.

The warehouse seems to have the most damage but half of the production floor is gone too.

Both may need to be completely rebuilt due to water damage.

The offices, somehow, don't look too bad.

I have no idea if the sprinklers went off or not and of course the fire department soaked the entire area but maybe that wing is salvageable.

I speak with the EMT's and fire chief and as far as they know, no one was in the building.

No firefighters have been hurt, either.

Apparently the security guard called it in and he was the only one around.

Good... Buildings can be rebuilt, people can't be.

I flag down the fire inspector but he refuses to give me any information, just takes my business card.

It's fair, he doesn't know much more than I do yet.

The biggest question is how it started.

If it's due to our negligence, insurance will be a nightmare.

Either way, what's next?

I call my father and the department heads and tell them the little I know.

All hourly employees and low-tiered salaried employees will get today and tomorrow off with pay.

I need to have Megan rent space in a hotel nearby so that we can start strategizing tomorrow.

I need some sleep... I need Emmett.

I feel bad showing up at his door but luckily he hasn't left for work.

"Hey darling, come in."

"I should have gone home, I'm sorry, I just... your place is closer."

"It is and I'm here so there's that. How is it?"

I repeat what I told my father earlier... I'm on autopilot. 

"It's a disaster. Parts of the warehouse are still burning."

"I'm so sorry, darling," he says, pulling me into his arms.

He feels amazing but now that I'm not surrounded by it... all I can smell is rancid smoke.

"I stink."

"I'm going to a garage, not to church. Can you get some sleep or do you have a full day?"

"I need a few hours, I have to."

I'm going to be no good to anyone if I don't. 

I'm not lucky enough to be one of those people who can survive and sometimes even thrive on five or six hours of sleep and last night I got much less than that.

"Is there anything I can do?"

"No, no, go to work. Can I sleep here?" 

The thought of getting back into my car and going to my apartment is too much to handle right now.

"Of course you can. There's a spare key in the wooden box on my dresser. Lock the door behind me and call me if you need me. There's yogurt and cereal, make sure you eat. Stay as long as you want and come back whenever you can."

He's too good to me, really.

"Okay, thank you. Really. Go, don't be late, I'm fine."

He kisses my dirty, stubbly cheek.

"Be safe," and then he's gone.

It's odd being in the house without him.

I've become fairly comfortable here over the past few weeks but everything shifts when he walks out the door.

I'm fine but it's strange.

I head upstairs to get out of these dirty clothes.

Thankfully he has a working washer, at least.

I decide to wash mine before the smell permeates through the entire house and take them down.

Back upstairs I go, intent on finding the key so that I don't forget it later.

I've seen the box he mentioned... I know which one he means.

I open it and it's obviously a treasure box of sorts.

There's a picture on top... him and his mother when he's maybe fourteen.

He's gangly and boy but definitely on the cusp.

A letter written in a woman's flowing cursive.

Probably from her too.

A photo of him and some army buddies in BDUs.

They have helmets on and rifles against their chests and are seated in the back of a truck in a desert, somewhere.

Some army medals and pins and his dog tags.

Random coins, not American.

An old car key and what I'm pretty sure is the spare house key.

I put it onto my key ring and feel guilty for snooping even though I didn't any more than necessary and he gave me permission to look inside.

I can't get into bed with my hair smelling like this so I take a quick shower and then climb in.

It feels good to snuggle into familiar blankets and pillows, ones I share with Emmett.

I'm asleep before I can even make a mental list of things to do later today.

I wake up groggy and thirsty.... I brush my teeth, get some water, have some yogurt and call my father.

"Finn, I've talked to the board of directors and the fire inspector. I've given it some thought and I think you may as well come on home. There's no reason to rebuild in Baltimore and we won't be able to until the arson report and insurance payments come through. You've been gone awhile, I'm sure you'd like to get back home. We'll do right by the employees, if there's anyone you really think is an asset we'll see about a transfer."

I can't think. I haven't gotten much past 'come on home'.

Do I love Baltimore? No.

Do I love Emmett? Maybe.

I will miss him horribly, that's not up for debate.

We were supposed to have more time.

"I don't think it's a total loss. We already have the site and employees, shouldn't we wait for the fire inspector's report before we give up?"

I honestly don't know what else to say.

"Finnegan, I think you should come home at least for awhile. Your mother is worried sick and you need a break. You've got this afternoon and tomorrow, wrap up some lose ends and come home. Make sure there's a security detail posted and the site gets fenced off. If someone needs to fly out in a few weeks to assess the damage, see what we can salvage and put it on the market, we'll make it happen. Keep me posted and make sure you're taking care of yourself, son. See you soon."

He hangs up and the silence is deafening.

I wander into Emmett's spare room to check on Marten.

I just need something tangible right now, something real.

He's sleeping in his little hammock so I just sit next to the cage and try to think.

My cell-phone rings, it's Megan.

"Hello."

"You sound exhausted and I know you're busy, sorry to bother you Mr. Walker."

"I've got a conference room booked and I booked a room in the hotel as well, we got a huge discount and I thought it might come in handy. I emailed you all the information. If you tell me what time you'd like everyone there I can do an email blast to management."

"Nine a.m. Thank you. Bring in the top three we have left in accounting."

Not having a department head is going to make things much more difficult.

"I need whichever of our lawyers handle tax and insurance as well."

"Will do. Also, I canceled everything for the rest of the week except your Dept of Defence appointment... I just want to confirm whether you want that canceled or rescheduled."

Shit, I've been waiting on this appointment for so long that I forgot all about it.

It's been 'coming soon' for so long that it's become a non-entity.

The Department of Defense appointment is tricky because I'm sort of going behind my father's back.

They contacted us about a year ago asking us to bid on a job for circuit boards but my dad turned them down cold.

He refuses to help the military. I'm a bit more pragmatic.

Department of Defense contracts are lucrative... Very lucrative.

They rarely go belly-up even when the economy does.

They're flexible, we can bid on those that we can easily accommodate and only when we have the time and manpower.

I see no downsides... That's not true, there's one huge downside... the appointment is tomorrow and I'm supposed to be working with my team to shut everything down.

No, I'm not doing it... I'm not leaving Emmett and I'm not giving up.... Not yet.

"Don't cancel, I'll be there. What time is it again?"

"5:00 p.m. They say to arrive fifteen minutes early to clear security."

Right, I remember thinking it was going to be a long day and being surprised that the Department of Defense didn't close up shop earlier than that.

"Send me the info."

I should head back to the site now and see what I can find out.

I need to know how bad it is and when we can get on the site and into the offices to assess the damage.

I also need to get the whole area fenced off... the last thing we need is people squatting, vandalizing or robbing the place.

[roman-cates]

Nobody tried to talk to him at all? Bryce throws a glance over at Roman. He doesn't seem upset about it. It sounds upsetting to Bryce, but Roman is still getting used to being around people again, he supposes. He remembers how overwhelmed he seemed at the Walmart.

"Okay," he says out loud. "This next one will probably go similarly. The one after that has a very simple, flat layout, so I might have you do at least some of the installation work with me, if you're okay with that." And if he can actually get Roman to do hands-on work, that might provide him some cover to put in more spycams.

Previous

"Okay. This next one will probably go similarly. The one after that has a very simple, flat layout, so I might have you do at least some of the installation work with me, if you're okay with that."

Roman nods, although he's a bit nervous about pain. He trusts that Bryce won't knowingly subject him to something that going to hurt, though. And if it gets bad enough that he needs to speak up, Bryce will listen, right..?

When they get to the second warehouse, it's pretty much the same as the first. They head inside and Roman hangs out in the break room with a bunch of the employees all enjoying more pastries. Roman doesn't eat any this time— he's really not hungry at all.

The employees are a lot more chatty at this warehouse. They ask Roman's name— he tells them it's Reagan— and they skirt around asking about any of his injuries. They're so intent on avoiding that topic that, to Roman, it feels a bit awkward. Still, it's... sort of nice in a way for his injuries not to really be acknowledged at all.

The employees are nice enough, although Roman doesn't really want to converse with people— he'd much rather be ignored like at the last warehouse. He doesn't let any of that show, though. He returns conversation and is polite. He's not sad when the employees in the break room start to dwindle, however, or when Bryce finishes whatever he's doing in the warehouse and they can leave.

[unhingedexperimenter]

"Yeah, I know. Who would've thought?" Henry definitely wasn't happy with learning that information at all. "Oh, that poor boy. No wonder he copes in such a way. To have a father like that man." Henry shook his head at that. Dr.Two-Brains was surprised by how his boyfriend reacted to finally getting the picture. The villain quickly apologized to the poor employee and finished ordering their food. Henry was now in deep thought about his student. It didn't take very long for them to receive their food. Dr.Two-Brains paid for it, and they left for the villain's warehouse. "Shockingly, the kid is still much better than Calvin. That's for sure. He might be a pain in the neck, but he's nowhere as insufferable as Calvin. The only reason I can't stand him is pretty much because he kept flirting with my daughter when she's WordGirl." The mad scientist huffed. "He actually makes an effort to get along with others unlike that prick. I'm shocked that he actually listens to you. You have a knack for making an impact on others." Henry really wanted to help the kid now. Perhaps find another way to direct his anger and frustration through other means. They just about arrived at Dr.Two-Brains when Henry spoke up. "Dearest, you said that you needed to speak with me about Lucian. What was it that you had to bring me here to speak about?" The mad scientist's eyebrows furrowed at the question. "You'll need to be seated inside the warehouse when I do tell you. It's not something you'll want to hear or believe, but please. Trust us." That made the teacher's stomach twist up. It must be something really serious. Dr.Two-Brains parked, and they got into the lair where the four were waiting for them. Alan was with Hugh, holding onto his hand. They all looked grim and angry. Hugh still looked quite shaken up from the counter. "He's here with me, guys. Henry, please sit on the couch." It didn't take Dr.Two-Brains to tell him twice to do as told. Henry seated himself upon the couch. They all exchanged knowing glances, which only fed into the dread the teacher had been feeling. Dr.Two-Brains sat beside him as the others surrounded them. "What about Lucian? Did he do something?" This made Hugh frown, avoiding Henry's gaze. "Something like that, yeah. Last night, Hugh was alone at his apartment while Alan was out making his rounds about the city. During that time, Lucian showed up at Hugh's door. He wanted someone back from him. While Lucian did, in fact, receive said item back. He had noticed Hugh tampered with it. Lucian wasn't very happy with that." This made Henry more curious by the moment. What did Lucian want? Tamper with what exactly? "Lucian tried to force information out of Hugh with violence. If Alan hadn't shown up, our friend would've been hurt from it. The item that Lucian wanted back from Hugh was HJ7, your formula. He claimed that Robert sent him to fetch it. Hugh also said he felt the same wrong feeling coming from him, yet much worse. It was much more intense. He wasn't happy to see Hugh take some of the formula from the vial Robert left. We don't think Robert is a bad person, no. We're not saying that at all. He might not have any say in any of this. I'm so sorry, love. We believe that Lucian is Robert's version of Hyde.” Henry's face was drained of color, his blood ran cold at what his boyfriend revealed. Not only confirming that Robert did in fact ingest his formula but had been continuing to do so. As well as knowing that Lucian had attacked an innocent person because of the formula. That means Robert's counterpart was willing to resort to violence. Did this mean Robert was repressing a violent nature of some sort? He hated to think of it. “Robert…and Lucian are like Hyde and I?” His tone was confused. “I'm afraid so, Henry. I'm so sorry. I wanted to tell you gently. You deserve to know what we found out. While Robert himself might not be a threat, Lucian has made it clear that he was one. We didn't want to spring this on you so soon but you need to know.” Hugh spoke up. “He wanted to keep the formula a secret from you so badly.”

@thecountoflondonfansite

Henry felt devastated for his oldest friend. "That's absolutely horrible. I can't possibly imagine what Robert is going through. Even though he had issues with his father, this would no doubt affect him greatly.” His heart ached for Robert. Having lost his father due to a murder. Who could've done that? Was it the same person who attempted to kill Mr. Danvers Carew with the fire which Hyde got framed for? “You said it seemed personal. Why do you say that, old friend?” The lawyer took a moment to answer. “The murder was grisly and there wasn't anything stolen from the crime scene. It sounded more than just a robbery gone wrong. If it was truly that, expensive items would've been missing yet it all remained. I'm honestly shocked that Robert never told you. You two were always so close. Practically inseparable from college.” Henry looked visibly uncomfortable and solemn due to what his friend had said. “Thank you for telling me this. I do hope Robert will tell me about this on his own time. I won't force him or rush him.” Gabriel nodded at that. “Are you going to tell him?” The teacher seemed hesitant to answer that. “I will, once he has his own problems sorted. I would rather not add onto his problems with my own.” While it was true, Henry also didn't want to make things more complicated for Robert. He knew that his best friend had HJ7 and possibly could have ingested it. Leading to his own soul being split. It would only stress him out which could lead to his possible version of Hyde to get better control over him. It would only serve as ammo Robert's counterpart could use against him. “That is quite understandable. You two have been through a lot. Also considering the incident with your former employee. Mr. Hyde. It's been so stressful for both of you.” Hyde felt nervous whenever Gabriel would mention him. It felt like he could so easily uncover who he truly was to Henry. It was why he never appeared around him either. It's not that they didn't trust him. Not at all. As crazy as Hyde thought he was, he didn't want to possibly lose a friend he technically never met. He actually liked Gabriel and knew that the lies Henry kept would hurt the man deeply. It was a shared fear between Henry and Edward. “Thank you for understanding that, Gabriel. Also thank you for helping me.” Gabriel offered him a warm smile. “Of course. I would do anything for my dearest friends.” It troubled Henry. Why didn't Robert say anything about his father? Yet again, Robert did keep it a secret that he had a vial of HJ7 too. Becky looked confused, she had known about the murder of Dr. Lanyons father before he did. She was sure he would've known. Before the young girl could think about it further, she heard a voice calling for her. It was her uncle's voice. She listened to him calling, luckily Gabriel was too occupied with Henry to notice that. She went over to her father and tugged at his sleeve. Making Dr.Two-Brains lean over so she could whisper into his ear. “Dad, Uncle Alan is calling me. It sounds really urgent, I'll be back as soon as possible.” The mad scientist seemed reluctant to let her leave but nodded. “Alright, please don't take too long. Be careful.” With that said, Becky left. The moment she was alone, checking to make sure it was safe, Becky transformed and flew straight to Alan's and Hugh's apartment. She wondered why he called for her instead of going there himself. It must've been something serious. When she arrived, Becky went to the apartment she knew they resided in. Giving the door a couple of knocks before it was answered by Alan. Behind him were the other three of the four. “Uncle Alan? What are the others doing here?” His expression remained stoic. “We wanted to tell you something. We need you to tell your dad to turn his phone on. We have urgent information to tell him. Something has happened. We need to tell him what as well as the information we gained from it.”

Becky looked alarmed at what her uncle had just said. "Does it have something to do with Dr. Barriton?" Becky inquired as she remembered her dad telling her about the blonde scientist. Becky never really met him since the guy was fired when she was a baby. Her dad did describe him as an absolute narcissus and prick who was Athena's cousin. Becky didn't hold it against anyone to be related to that psycho woman since her twin brother Eris was a good person. She held the man's character and lack of morals against him. Alan shook his head. "No, it wasn't Calvin. Have you heard any of the adults speak of a Lucian Bennett?" Alan asked his niece. Becky pondered the question a bit and shook her head. "Not really, no." She answered. "Who is he?" The four looked at each other, not really sure how to explain. Hugh decided to speak about the man and his encounter to a degree. "We are not entirely sure who Lucian is as a person, but we know he is like Edward Hyde. By that, I mean he is the counterpart of someone who took the HJ7 formula." Becky's eyes widened at Hugh's explanation. There was someone out there who had their own Mr. Hyde! "Does Dr. Jekyll know about Lucian?" Becky asked in an urgent tone. The others gave a nod. "Yeah, he is aware of Lucian. He is also aware of the man having his own variation of the HJ7 formula though he isn't entirely sure how it is possible." Jenkins explained. "Listen, Becky. We really need to get in touch with your dad. It's difficult to explain but Lucian had nearly gotten physical with Hugh. We need to tell your dad what we know and what happened. Alan couldn't fly to Henry's house since it would have caused some alarm and we know the others are still recovering from Athena's attack. That is why he contacted you." Patricia explained in a serious tone. Becky nodded as she understood the gravity of the situation. "Okay, I'll get my dad." The heroine then took off back to Dr. Jekyll's apartment. "Where did your daughter run off too?" Gabriel asked. "Oh, she remembered she had to go outside and call her uncle Alan and let him know she couldn't spend the night at his and Hugh's home this Friday since personal things came up." Dr Two Brains quickly explained. Utterson looked surprised at the response. "She had to take her phone call outside." The lawyer exclaimed with a slightly suspicious tone. Two Brains internally panicked. 'Why can't this guy be as dumb as the rest of the civilians in this city.' "Oh well it was special bonding family thing they had this weekend though Becky is no longer feeling up to it. She and her uncle Alan have unique traditions that are not meant for other ears to hear. It shouldn't take to long for Becky to speak with Alan." Two Brains exclaimed. Henry seemed to catch onto the hidden meaning of his boyfriends' words and decided to help cover for him. "It's a strange but endearing characteristic that my boyfriend's family has. They like to keep their personal businesses private, even if it is just regular, family matters." Henry added. Gabriel looked a bit confused but quickly shook it off for now. "If you say so, Henry." He then turned to Dr. Two Brains. "So your brother is dating Dr. Mann?" Gabriel asked Two Brains shook his head. "No, Alan is dating Hugh, but he isn't my brother. He is technically my brother-in-law. He is Becky's mom's sibling." The mad scientist corrected. In what seemed to be a short amount of time, Becky returned inside. "Hey, kiddo. How did your talk with Uncle Alan go on the phone?" Dr. Two Brains inquired. Becky greeted her dad with a smile but Two Brains and Henry could tell that it was faked. "It went well, but he wanted me to let you know to turn on your phone. Hugh and the other four have been trying to reach you and see how you were doing." Becky respond. Two Brains looked embarrassed and quickly pulled out his phone to turn it on. His eyes widened as he saw the missed calls. "Oops. Sorry. I turned my phone off because I was having a conversation with Henry and didn't want to be disturbed." Two Brains exclaimed. @unhingedexperimenter

[poetrusicperry]

the poets go to ikea for the first time !!!

sooo this morning i made a list of things i have to take back to college with me and i always pack my stuff in these big, blue ikea bags which got me thinking about what the poets would be like in ikea bc i genuinely cannot do anything anymore without thinking about how the poets would do it HAHA. so here we are lol– i hope you guys like this !!(:

neil: something tells me that neil would really enjoy ikea. there are so many tiny little relics and fun decorations to browse as well as models/displays that are so nicely put together. just the right kinds of things to appease neil’s hidden juvenile wants (since he never got to experience a real childhood with his parents treating him like an adult since he was like 8). for example: all of the neat little stuffed animals and children’s bedroom sets that have all sorts of fun colors, etc. neil would appreciate the whole aesthetic of the store as well, liking how well-organized and modern it is inside. would definitely hide behind pieces of furniture in the displays to scare todd. also he is in charge of pushing the cart (that charlie is proudly sitting in bc he doesn’t want to “walk around everywhere”).

todd: like neil, todd appreciates the feel of the place bc he’s always had a bit of an interest in interior design, but is a little bit overwhelmed with just how big it is both outside and inside. desperately wants a djungelskog bear (which neil buys for him, bc of all the things neil struggles with, saying “no” to todd is certainly the biggest one). genuinely freaks out every single time neil scares him, even if he should see it coming after the second or third time. trails behind the group, (as he seemingly always does), taking special note of certain things he’d like to have in his own house one day (’:

knox: upon being invited, he seemed hesitant bc it’s just a furniture store, big whoop (”will there be girls there at least?”), but once they got there he was incredibly thrilled that there was a cafeteria and insisted that they go there both before shopping and after shopping (”look at how big the store is, don’t you think we’ll be hungry again by the time we’re done?”). definitely would rather be doing something else, but is just happy to be spending time around his pals (:

charlie: as previously stated, king of the cart. refuses to get out and walk because it’s “a big store and he’s tired.” neil doesn't mind pushing him, though. fully embraces the semi-chaotic feel of ikea during the weekend (so many people, which is not good for todd, but charlie full-on thrives). he would also insist on actually buying a few pieces of new furniture for his and cameron’s room (completely oblivious to the fact that he will actually need to assemble the pieces himself until they get down to the warehouse), even though it would most definitely be confiscated by mr. hager (”they’ll only confiscate it if they find it,” charlie says, to which cameron replies, “i’m pretty sure a full size vanity and bureau would be pretty easy to scope out, dumbass.” then they both flip each other off). he is definitely the reason knox decided to come after charlie begged him for at least ten minutes (”c’mon, knoxious, it’ll be fun! even if there aren’t girls there, you’ll still have me to look at (;”). offers to buy neil a couple of the stuffed animals he’s been eyeing bc he just wants to see his best friend happy. has to go back up and around the store to take note of numbers of the furniture he actually wants bc he didn’t understand how it worked (”all that time in the cart, wasted” and ”they should really have like an instruction manual before entering the store??”). and enlists meek’s help trying to find the right boxes of parts because “he’s smart like that”. still stays squished in the cart even when he puts all the boxes in it

meeks: just along for the ride, honestly. he just likes spending time with his buddies, but isn’t hesitant about going out and doing things like knox (“i’ll try anything once!”). gets into a pillow fight with pitts in one of the displays, garnering the attention of an ikea employee who sternly asks them to “act their age” and to “fix all the things they made fall on the ground”. the most adventurous eater at the cafeteria; tries the swedish meatballs and really likes them (”we have to come back here just to eat these again, guys”). rates each display on a scale of 1-10 and gives reasons for why he likes things and why he doesn’t (mostly in a joking way).

pitts: bumps his head on some of the hanging arrow signs that direct you into the next section of the store, sighs after every time. buys matching stuffed animals with meeks (’: is the designated driver, and never asks for gas money from his friends bc like knox and meeks, he just likes hanging out (but they give him gas money anyway !!). asks neil for a turn pushing the cart, which neil agrees to. when in control of the cart, bumps it into things, much to charlie’s displeasure (”wouldn’t peg you as a horrible cart driver since you’re the only one with your license, but alas, i was wrong”). feels v bad for getting in trouble w meeks about the pillow fighting and makes sure to fix any messed up things in any of the displays following the incident. also unsure of how much space is in the car for charlie’s boxes, leading him to argue against the purchase of any items.

cameron: also didn’t get the allure of a furniture store, but tagged along because he wanted to get off campus (and really does care about making time and hanging out with his friends, though he’d never admit that). pickiest when it came to the food court/cafeteria (”i just don’t want to try it, why do i need a reason ??”). actually considered buying a new desk organizer, but refused when charlie said it would look great on their new vanity (”charlie, they’ll confiscate that, too. how many times do i have to explain it ??”). unlike meeks, seriously rates each display on a scale of 1-10 talking about how some of the colors just don’t go, and it hurts his eyes to look at it. lowkey got lost for a bit and freaked out bc he couldn’t find anyone, but caught up with todd finally when they were exiting the kitchenette section. this caused him to ask what todd was doing all the way back behind the group, leading to a small, but nice conversation they had (”just making some notes about things i like for later on” todd had said. “that’s really cool, todd,” cameron smiled back at him, unknowing that todd was most certainly picking out things that not only he would like, but neil, too). finally caved and helped charlie build the new furniture when they got back because as much as he couldn't stand charlie sometimes, it made for an incredibly interesting bonding session. 

anyway, that’s all. i feel like the poets out in public and not on campus just harness a complete chaos anywhere they go HAHA. idk if this sucked or not, but it was super fun to write hehe. happy sunday i don’t want to go to work tomorrow, but such is the life of someone who has rent and bills to pay in the coming months, sigh

[tennessoui]

49!!!!!! Please

finally!!!! baby, finally!!!!

49. Boss/Intern (35yo!Boss!Anakin, 19yo!Intern!Obi-Wan)

(2.4k)

Obi-Wan rubs his hands rapidly down his face. He feels distinctly like he’s about to burst into tears, which would be a very bad thing to do here and now. His supervisor had come in fifteen minutes ago to tell him everyone was going to lunch. She’d invited him along, but he’d said no.

He always says no.

Lunch for the rest of the office means he gets to have a scheduled breakdown at his little cubicle.

He just. He just doesn’t know anything.

He’s only had this internship at Temple Tech for one week and already he’s floundered and fucked up more than anyone else probably has put together in their lifetimes.

He shouldn’t have ever applied, but he had been getting so desperate for summer employment, any sort of employment and, yes, this internship was out of his career field, and yes, he did have to lie at least five times on his resume, but it was an internship and it was paid.

It had felt like a good idea at the time. But then he actually got the job by some stroke of hellish luck, and he’s been learning every day since that it was actually probably a terrible idea. The learning curve is too steep. Obi-Wan is trying, but wow is he bad at it. Tech. Data stuff.

On his open computer, the sound of an email pinging rushes through his ears and he takes his hands off of his face to look. It’s from Anakin Skywalker. The boss.

Obi-Wan thinks he can feel his fingers grow numb. His heart feels like it’s stuttering in his chest, like it’s about to stop once and for all.

Temple Tech is a start-up company, still small but growing quickly. At its head is thirty-five year old Anakin Skywalker, which shouldn’t be any sort of a problem because Obi-Wan’s nineteen now and he can keep it in his pants, even if Anakin is hot as hell, smart as well, and so terribly kind whenever they run into each other.

Which happens a lot. Because it’s a small company, operating out of one renovated warehouse turned office. The floor plan is open enough that Obi-Wan’s able to see Anakin’s space--he gets a proper office, as part of being the boss, but he’s chosen to make the walls glass so it doesn’t feel as if he’s cut off from everyone else--from across the room. And Anakin is big on making everyone who works with him feel like family. A lot of companies say they do that or support that, but Anakin actually does. For one thing, he tells them to call him Anakin, not Mr. Skywalker. For another, he’s open about his personal life, but not so much that it makes anyone feel uncomfortable.

He’s quick with a smile and so understanding, and if he ever gets mad—and from his stories of his younger days, Obi-Wan knows he must have a temper—it’s never been in public.

And Anakin has never commented on how often Obi-Wan blushes around him, or how hard it is for him to focus on his work if Anakin sits on the edge of his desk to talk with him. Or any of the other employees, Obi-Wan has had to remind himself many times. Even though Obi-Wan feels hypersensitive and like a schoolgirl whenever Anakin is in his general vicinity, Anakin is a professional. He’s Obi-Wan’s boss. Nothing could ever happen between them. Not while Obi-Wan works under Anakin.

Even if Anakin is so nice and so kind and has asked to meet him now when everyone else is out of the building. It’s not suspicious and it’s definitely not cause for concern of any kind.

He thinks about shooting back an email, confirming it, but he’s never been good at the whole office environment thing. Instead, he logs off his computer and stands up.

It’s a short walk to Anakin’s office, hardly enough time for his palms to get sweaty.

Anakin’s typing something when Obi-Wan enters the room and he looks up at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh,” Obi-Wan says, aghast when he realizes he’s forgotten to knock. “I’m sorry, I--”

“Obi-Wan, come in, please,” Anakin gives him a slight smile and gestures for him to sit on the couch next to his desk. Obi-Wan takes a seat hesitantly. It’s as soft as it’s always looked.

Anakin types for a few more seconds on his computer before pushing away from his desk all together and taking a seat next to Obi-Wan on the couch.

“I’ve noticed you never go out to lunch with your coworkers,” Anakin says, positioning himself so he’s facing Obi-Wan completely. His body language is open, like he’s read one of those business books on how to sit so everyone knows you’re nice but you have an agenda.

It puts Obi-Wan on edge, and he fidgets around on his seat.

“You’re not in trouble, b--Obi-Wan,” his boss murmurs. “I just want to know why. Do you not like them? Have they been mean to you?”

“No!” Obi-Wan denies immediately, looking up at Anakin and biting his lip when he sees that the man’s attention is fixed so squarely on him. “No, of course not. Everyone here has been amazing.” He widens his eyes and raises both eyebrows. “Really, sir.”

Anakin looks distinctly uncomfortable. “I’ve told you to call me Anakin,” he criticizes, and Obi-Wan blushes more.

He’s really messing this up.

“Sorry, sir, I mean. Anakin. Sorry. Anakin,” he coughs. His palms are sweaty. He’s sitting on his attractive boss’s couch when everyone’s gone on lunch, and his palms are sweaty.

He doesn’t even want anything to happen.

Alright, so that’s a lie. He definitely has spent a lot of late nights thinking about something happening between them, just like this, but those are fantasies and Anakin is his boss. More than that, Anakin is a good man. He’d never take advantage of an intern in that way, no matter how frequently Obi-Wan feels as if he’s walking around with a sign around his neck that says, Take Advantage of Me, Mr. Anakin, Sir!

“Why don’t you go to lunch with them, Obi-Wan?” Anakin asks softly, gently.

Obi-Wan’s hands clench down on themselves. It’s really the moment of truth, now. He really can’t keep lying, not when Anakin sounds so concerned. He has no right to be concerned! He shouldn’t care about Obi-Wan at all; hell, he shouldn’t even know him!

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he mumbles, staring down at the stretch of fabric on his knees.

Anakin hums. Obi-Wan wonders if he learned that from his fancy How to Run a Business books as well: don’t say anything, just let the other person talk until you know everything you need to know to crush them.

Damn if the silence doesn’t work to get Obi-Wan speaking again though.

“I...I’m behind on the work,” he admits. “I don’t have time to go to lunch because I need to figure out how to do my work.”

Anakin makes a sympathetic noise deep in his throat. “If...if your workload is too heavy, Obi-Wan, we can look into cutting it. I don’t want to be known as the company that runs its interns into the ground.”

Obi-Wan’s throat tightens too much and he shrugs. He can’t cry. He really shouldn’t cry. He did this to himself. “It wouldn’t help,” he whispers.

“What?” Anakin asks, leaning forward to hear him better.

“It wouldn’t help,” Obi-Wan says again, louder this time. Anakin blinks at him, and Obi-Wan finally tells him the truth. “I don’t know how to do any of this. I...I lied on my resume. I needed a job, for my student visa. I needed the money to keep it while not in school. And...and internships are supposed to look good on your resume, so I...I thought I could figure it out, I’m smart, sir, I’m so smart. I don’t know why I can’t figure it out.”

He drops his gaze to his hands again and breathes out shakily. He’d been carrying the weight of that secret for far longer than he should have been. It should have been a relief of the utmost degree to give it away. But instead he’s waiting for the punishment. Anakin will have to fire him now. Anakin might even get mad at him for lying.

When his boss doesn’t say anything for several long seconds, Obi-Wan chances a glance up at him through his lashes. Instead of anger on his face, there’s only a confused sort of sympathy.

“I’m...not sure I understand, Obi-Wan,” he says slowly. “You lied on your resume to get this internship, but...why couldn’t you have just applied to an internship in a different field? One you actually want to study? I know you like biology, you’ve told me more about biology in the past few weeks than you’ve told me about yourself.”

“None of them wanted me,” Obi-Wan sniffles and hates himself for it. “I tried, I promise. I promise I didn’t want to lie, but I needed the money, and this internship paid so much better than working at a coffeehouse would.”

Anakin puts his hand gently on his shoulder and Obi-Wan can’t stop himself from turning into the pressure of it. “It’s alright,” Anakin murmurs. “Oh no, please don’t--please don’t cry, b--Obi.”

“It’s Obi-Wan,” Obi-Wan wails.

Anakin hushs him. “Alright, Obi-Wan, alright. Let’s see what we can do.”

“You’re going to fire me,” he says with absolute certainty. He doesn’t even much like his job at Temple Tech, but how is he supposed to find another one on such short notice?

Anakin is quiet. He doesn’t say no.

“Look, I’ll try harder, I promise,” Obi-Wan stutters out, turning to look up at Anakin with wet eyes. What a picture he must make. Nothing professional about him at all. Nothing worth keeping around either. “I promise, please, don’t--I’ll--I’ll stay after hours, I’ll work late, come early. I need this job, sir.”

Anakin’s eyebrows furrow and he looks genuinely regretful, which is little comfort. “Obi-Wan, it’s not about...your work ethic. I promise, your work ethic is stronger and better than most of the people on my team.”

Obi-Wan wipes at his eyes hastily. He knows there’s a but coming soon.

“But I can’t...if you’ve lied on your resume, you can’t put Temple Tech there later. That’s not fair for anyone else who applied and was rejected in favor of you. The spot you have...I need someone there who knows what they’re doing with computers. Who wants to be there. Obi, it makes sense that you don’t know anything about tech. You never look like you really want to be here unless you’re talking to someone else.”

Obi-Wan’s bottom lip trembles and he can feel another wave of tears coming. “I understand, sir,” he mumbles, standing up and preparing to leave the office and Anakin Skywalker behind forever. He’s never been fired before. He doesn’t know what the decorum really is in this situation.

Being tugged back and into his boss’ arms doesn’t feel like how it normally goes, though.

But he can’t resist melting into Anakin’s tight hug, rubbing his cheek on the man’s nice shirt. He wants to give him something to remember him by, even if it’s just tear stains on expensive cotton.

“Lemme help you,” Anakin suddenly says, voice very gruff. Obi-Wan freezes in his arms and tilts his head to try and see Anakin’s face. Help him?

“I don’t understand,” he admits, biting his lip.

“I like you, Obi-Wan,” Anakin confesses. “I do. I’ll be sad to see you leave. I was already going to be sad to see you leave when your internship concluded, but this is much sooner. I…”

He trails off as if trying to make up his mind. It doesn’t take him long to nod to himself.

“Be honest,” he warns him, but there’s a joking lilt to his voice. Obi-Wan, personally, thinks that’s a little too soon. “Do you know how to clean house?”

Obi-Wan pulls out of Anakin’s arms to stare at him.

“Or walk dogs,” Anakin adds.

Slowly, Obi-Wan nods. Cleaning up a house and walking dogs feels like something he can figure out how to do. Feels pretty self-explanatory for the most part. The only thing he’s confused by is why Anakin is asking this of him.

“Would you...that is, just for the rest of the summer, until your classes start again--how would you feel about cleaning my house? And walking my dogs?” Anakin seems to hold his breath.

Obi-Wan feels like he’s stepped into the Twilight Zone or something.

“You’re...firing me,” he says slowly. “But...you’re offering me a job? As your….maid?”

“‘We should call it housekeeper,” Anakin says quickly, a pained look flashing across his face. “Too...many connotations with maid.”

“Why?” he has to ask. “I mean. I lied to you, sir. I...you’re firing me.”

“Because I need someone in that position who knows what they’re doing,” Anakin explains slowly.

“Do you want me in another position, sir?” Obi-Wan asks. He blushes furiously as soon as the words are out of his mouth.

Anakin’s eyes darken and he clears his throat. He doesn’t say no, and his silence, the double entendre of his silence, makes the breath catch in Obi-Wan’s throat.

“You said you needed money to keep your visa,” Anakin says. “I’m trying to offer you an honest means of employment. I need someone to keep up my house and walk my dogs. If you can do it, I’d hire you over anyone else in a second.”

“Why?” Obi-Wan whispers, suddenly so very aware of how close they’re still standing to each other, how nice Anakin smells, how handsome he looks with just the beginning of a silver streak at his temple.

Anakin sweeps his gaze over Obi-Wan’s face and chest, and Obi-Wan has to wonder what he sees there. Whatever he does, he must like because he smirks. “Work ethic,” he murmurs.

[stxleslyds]

It’s very interesting to see your thoughts on Winnik cause personally while I like that he made jason a bit unhinged and fun in utrh his other characterizations of his were eh at best. Like why would jason not care about the world and why would he take over the drug trade of all things considering his history. I feel like Winnick had a very surface level understanding of Jason. There was a lot of his past to explore but it wasn’t explored that deeply. Plus I absolutely HATED his Bruce and talia characterization. And how he wrote Talia in both utrh and lost days was absolutely disgusting and his explanation for why he did it was that Jason loves Talia and that they were both messed up ppl??? Which is where I can’t forgive him. I feel like he was a one hit wonder because ever since utrh his Jason story started to go downhill. I also feel like it’s because DC doesn’t know how to write a character that’s from a poor background and that’s a huge disservice to Jason. I do hope that Rosenberg or another writer (hopefully female) does a good job on him. He’s been suffering under shitty writing for so long. Sorry for the long ask I really enjoy reading your posts.

Hi Anon, thank you for sending your ask!

Well, this is a great question because I love giving my opinions on Winick’s UtRH and Lost Days. I know those books (or some moments in them) are not everyone’s cup of tea and I had and have some problems with some of them but I have also come to understand them or even accept them as a writer bringing up a morally grey area in his books and doing it well (or at least I saw it that way after re-reading and researching a bit about his thoughts on those matters).

This is going to be a long post (I suppose) because there is a lot to cover and I want to let you know in a clear way why I think that what Winick wrote works beautifully for Jason. I will try to answer this as coherently as I can, so I will talk about the points you made in your ask separately so I make sure I don’t forget anything.

Let’s begin!

“Why would Jason not care about the world?”

I assume with that you meant about what happened in Bludhaven when Chemo was dropped there by the Society? That is valid but that really wasn’t Winick’s fault (I believe), that whole thing was shown in the book because back then the Bat-related books were more interconnected and that was what was happening in Dick’s Nightwing run at the time, which I think was used to explain why Dick suddenly stopped helping Bruce in Gotham.

And then I think Jason and Bruce watching that happen when they were having that conversation on that roof was very well planned out. I think Winick used that opportunity for Jason to be his peak level of little shit and make Bruce feel bad about not arriving in time to save another one of his kids. Even though Jason later revealed that he never blamed Batman for not arriving in time to save him, I believe Jason said that about Dick to make Bruce hurt more. Jason was trying to make Bruce stay in Gotham so either Bruce or him killed the Joker that night. Winick on the other hand had to finish his story, him branching out and having Batman go to Bludhaven would have benefited absolutely no one either, and it just didn’t fit the story that was being told in Under the Red Hood.

That’s why I think that Jason reacted that way to the Bludhaven and Chemo situation. If by caring about the world you meant something else let me know! (He obviously cared about Gotham in UtRH and other people in Lost Days).

“Why would he take over the drug trade of all things considering his history?”

Well, I have to be honest with you Jason wanting to control the drug trade in Gotham makes absolute sense to me, and even more when I think about Jason’s past history.

Jason and Bruce have always been (to me) clear opposites in various angles, and in UtRH, Winick talks about that a little bit too.

Batman was created to eradicate crime from Gotham after Bruce witnessed the death of his parents, that was the tragedy that set him off, and even though it was tragic and awful he had everything outside of his parents, he had a home, a support system, people that cared and gave him love, and money. He never had to be in contact with the cruel reality that was Gotham. We know through various stories that Gotham is deeply rotten and corrupted.

But Jason did know how corrupted, rotten and devoid of hope his city really was, he lived in the streets and in an abandoned apartment alone because he didn’t trust the police or social workers (he didn’t believe the system was helpful). He had seen his mother die at the hands of drugs after his father was sent to jail due to his criminal behaviour. Probably his father was a drug dealer and was the person that got his mother into drugs, (I believe that was later made canon, I might be wrong). But why did he do that? Maybe because he came from a poor and complicated background and nobody wanted to employ him so the real bad people of Gotham, like Black Mask, Cobblepot and many others, saw his vulnerability and his desperation to make money and they gave him a job as a drug dealer.

Considering that Jason was made out to have very deep problems with people selling drugs in schools and all that, I can estimate that maybe one of the big Drug Lords at the time employed Jason’s father when he was barely a teenager, that way he earned money, he stopped going to school and sold drugs to his peers so the bad people could control more people while they were vulnerable.

If all of that is true then Jason wanting to control the drug trade in Gotham, by becoming a Drug Lord himself, makes perfect sense to me. I mean let’s talk about this, what were his other options?

Kill every drug lord?

What if that set off a gang war in Gotham over who got to be the next big Drug Lord? I mean, it would be like real life, if someone dies in that sort of position there would always be someone else to take their place. Drugs are clearly (in Gotham) a great way to get money and power.

Also, if he killed all the drug lords then what happened to the people that were working for them, how could Jason help them get another job?

Explode every warehouse and facility with drugs in them?

And then what? Wait for Black Mask and the others to buy more and put a target on his back? Maybe kill some innocents so they can send a message to Red Hood that if he keeps destroying their drugs or whatever people will pay for it?

Maybe all the drug lords would come together and kill the Red Hood themselves, what could one man do against everyone else? Black Mask and the others had vulnerable people on a payroll, if they stopped working or went against what their boss said they would have been killed and then families would still be vulnerable and desperate to survive in Gotham.

Come forward as Jason Todd, the not so dead son of Bruce Wayne, and start a campaign against drugs?

Jason would have ended up dead in seconds, everywhere you look there are corrupt people. What could have been the point of that? What could have Jason be able to give families like his so they could stop living under the control of drugs and Drug Lords?

-

Jason being a Drug Lord himself was the best option because Jason KNOWS the reality of Gotham and Gotham’s people. His way of dealing with drugs could control the drug trade in the first 10 years and then eradicate it after that time. His plan was genius!

Jason knew that for people not to suffer as his family did, he had to take the slow and hard path of becoming the thing that he hated the most. He needed to attack the monster from within. So, when he made his first move he controlled the street-level dealers, he told them “I will protect you from both Black Mask and Batman if you stop dealing drugs to kids and in schoolyards if you do that, you are dead”, it is genius! By being clear about not wanting to have kids and high schoolers involved with drugs he set out a new path where those people weren’t forced into drugs and driven away from school. And that’s the way Winick made us see Jason’s not so new morals, he protects Gotham’s kids and he will kill you without hesitation if you endanger them.

From that he built, Winick made it clear, at first Jason would convince the people working for other Drug Lords to work for him if they followed his rules (and he offered them protection!). If Jason worked on the drug trade, he could have controlled who was inserted in the drug life or could have made it exclusive to the rich or club exclusive. In his intention of taking over the drug trade, he could have moved drugs away from Gotham’s most vulnerable.

And if he employed those vulnerable people, he would have made them work for him on other levels, that way those vulnerable people still had jobs and were protected from people like Black Mask. And in due time, fewer young and poor people would be involved with drugs or the drug trade.

Red Hood employs poor people and makes them not sell to other poor people or kids, he pays his employees good money so their families make a better life for themselves and their kids go to school, they are all protected by the Red Hood and his team (Jason could have trained others and make a team or gang that focused entirely on security), those people then get to retire with their families far away from drugs and maybe Gotham too.

I mean, Winick never did those things but I think that was the way he was thinking about it, he really set a golden path for future writers, his story had to finish Jason’s dilemma with Bruce and Joker but then his life as the Red Hood continued. And it could have been good if other writers used the characterization that Winick had given Jason: protector of children, killer of rapists and everyone that endangered women, children and teenagers. All of that was thrown away for a mythical fight with Ra’s al Ghul for people that were as trashy as Ra’s.

“I feel like Winick had a very surface-level understanding of Jason”.

I have to disagree. I think he understood Jason’s character before his death well and then built a grown-up version of him with those morals more developed after he suffered more and then saw how the world and Batman’s ways hadn’t changed after his murder.

We are talking about post-crisis Jason here; he was sweet and he loved being Robin but he also saw the world differently from Bruce and Batman. He lived a very different life than the one that Bruce lived when he was a kid. Jason even said that he “could fend for himself just fine” and that he had “graduated from the streets of crime alley”.

To me Winick understood this completely, he knew that Jason had had close contact with how drugs could affect people and what a criminal record could lead you to, but he also understood that Jason was a survivor of "crime alley" and all its worst people. He probably knew of things that people were doing of he saw them happening. He knew how to protect himself from those things but understood that not everyone could do it. And when Batman took him to Ma Gunn’s school Jason learned that Batman was ignorant of how awful and manipulative Gotham’s people could be. Ma Gunn wasn’t running an orphanage or cool school; she was teaching children how to steal and harm others. He hated it, he was “okay” when he was alone and now, he was locked in with older kids that beat him and Ma Gunn who was exploiting children’s vulnerability.

I assume Winick took that and maybe decided that was the moment when Jason knew that even if Batman was trying to do good, he still didn’t see Gotham (or that side of Gotham) for what it truly was.

When Jason became Robin and worked along with Batman, we could already see that Jason thought very differently about what should be done with rapists, and abusers of all kinds, Jason saw the world differently when he was a kid and a teenager and then after his death, Winick used that to build a Jason Todd that as a young adult still saw Gotham for what it truly was.

“There was a lot of his past to explore but it wasn’t explored that deeply”.

I am really confused by this (and I am very dumb), did you mean that his past before his death wasn’t explored? Because that was not the point of this book, the information was already there with Jason’s previous appearances in comics, and even then, Winick explored through flashbacks in UtRH how he saw Jason and what it was that Jason thought about crime.

If you didn’t mean that and you meant his past before the events of UtRH but after his death then, well, I would say that Winick couldn’t have fit that in UtRH but he did write a story about that time in 2010 when he wrote Red Hood: Lost Days.

“I absolutely hated his Bruce and Talia characterization”

I will only talk about the Bruce part here because you mentioned Talia later in your ask.

To me his Bruce was perfect. I really think that his characterization of him was spot on, but maybe I am biased because I don’t like Bruce at all? I suppose that you are talking about Bruce’s characterization in those last moments in "crime alley" with Jason and Joker? And how he decided that making Jason drop the weapon by throwing a batarang to his throat and saving Joker was a better option than Jason killing the Joker?

If it is that then I would love to see what you think Bruce would have done at that moment because I didn’t really see Bruce using a gun (in any way) as an in-character thing for him, and even though DC has always danced with the idea of Bruce actually killing somebody I know that they wouldn’t have him do it, and even less when it comes to killing the Joker.

I mean, Bruce brought back Joker from the dead when Dick finally killed that piece of shit so, yeah, I don’t know.

I feel like Winick was trying to show just how loyal and squared Bruce is when it comes to his own no killing rule. Jason wasn’t asking for Bruce to go on a killing spree he just wanted Bruce to kill the Joker and he didn’t. Winick even had Bruce say that about him not wanting to kill one person because he felt that if he did that, he wouldn’t be able to stop and I think that’s pretty true. Maybe it is a bit too much but I don’t think it’s a lie.

“How he wrote Talia in both UtRH and Lost Days was absolutely disgusting”

That is absolutely valid, listen, if you didn’t like how he wrote her at all I really can’t say anything against that. My first real and solid contact with Talia’s character was in that book, so when I read UtRH I really liked how he wrote Talia in that, it seemed to have that aspect of Talia’s love for Bruce being so strong that when she saw Jason was alive, she wanted to help him so Bruce could see how much he loved her. It is messed up but I believed it fitted her character, she had good intentions but her reasoning was a little bit wonky.

With Lost Days, I thought that her character was well written, she isn’t a hero and she isn’t a villain, she is just a player in the game that is the League of Assassins and that world. That obviously changed up until we had that scene happen between her and Jason, I was grossed out and I didn’t understand why that had happened which leads me to what you said next in your ask.

“His explanation for why he did it was that Jason loves Talia and that they were both messed up people”.

This is a part of the interview where Judd Winick answered a question about Jason and Talia sleeping together. The interview was done by Sara Lima in ComicVine’s podcast.

“SL: Why did you decide to write the romantic scene between Jason and Talia in Lost Days?

JW: For those playing at home, Jason Todd, at the end of Red Hood: Lost Days, and Talia slept together. I did that because it was really disturbing and to shine a light on the fact that these are not really well people. A lot of people didn’t like that, which was correct. “You weren’t supposed to like that. That was supposed to be, ‘oh God, stop that, what are you doing?’ It really was. As well as, for Talia, her reasons, being that Bruce had wound up inadvertently killing her father and she was ragingly angry with him and went from love to pure hate and still loving him at the same time. And Jason, given the opportunity to have sex with just about the only woman who Bruce has had sex with or really cares about, ‘Yeah, I’ll go there.’

SL: He’s like, ‘yeah, cause I hate that guy.’

JW: Yeah! ‘I hate that guy!’ And I think that Jason probably had the hots for Talia. She’s hot, he doesn’t exactly have a lot of relationships going on – It’s not a good thing for either of them. These are two people who murder people, two people who are screwed up, screwed up emotionally. There’s this question that why would he do that and Talia only loves Bruce. She might only love Bruce, but she does have sex with other people because that’s just sex. And we’re all grown-ups here. I think those who shake their fist and get angry at this kind of thing might be some of our older readers. I’m an older reader, but I acknowledge the fact that people aren’t that chaste and grow up: people have sex. That’s why I ended it like that; It was messed up.

Maybe it was in another interview or something but this is the only time that I have seen Winick talk about that and I don’t think he mentioned Jason loving Talia but he did say said that “These are two people who murder people, two people who are screwed up, screwed up emotionally”.

When I looked it up, I found that someone that is described as screwed up is a person that is “emotionally disturbed”. That description is one that I feel is valid for both Jason and Talia at the time, they both had a lot going on and were fighting some demons so maybe it’s not a nice thing to say but I can’t say that the statement isn’t true. Or at least that’s how I see it.

When I came across that interview for the first time, I wasn’t expecting Winick to apologise for writing that interaction but I did want an explanation so after he said, “A lot of people didn’t like that, which was correct. “You weren’t supposed to like that. That was supposed to be, ‘oh God, stop that, what are you doing?’ It really was” and “for Talia, her reasons, being that Bruce had wound up inadvertently killing her father and she was ragingly angry with him and went from love to pure hate and still loving him at the same time. And Jason, given the opportunity to have sex with just about the only woman who Bruce has had sex with or really cares about, ‘Yeah, I’ll go there.’”

I felt like that was enough, granted I didn’t like it and I still don’t like it but I don’t see it as Winick writing something disturbing with evil intentions, I just see it as him writing these two morally grey people doing some very morally grey stuff.

This is not me saying that this is how things have to be taken, I know and understand many people who absolutely don’t like this at all and that’s valid. I am not here to change your mind about that, personally when I read the why he wrote that I felt like that explanation was enough but that is just me.

“I feel like he was a one-hit-wonder because ever since UtRH his Jason story started to go downhill”

I think Winick was only meant to write Jason’s comeback to comics, around the time he was writing Outsiders and Green Arrow. And there was also the “Infinite Crisis” (Winick wasn’t involved with that one) event going on in the middle that explained some stuff like how Jason was resurrected which was explored in Batman Annual #25 in 2006 (like a year after the UtRH book had come out and it was also written by Winick). Then with the popularity of the UtRH book the animated movie was made (written by Judd Winick) and because that was coming out DC allowed Winick to write the six-issue mini of Red Hood: The Lost Days in 2010.

The UtRH story didn’t go downhill, DC simply couldn’t handle that level of mature storytelling at the time, just after that event ended DC was already planning on changing stuff and then the New 52 came years later.

Winick’s Jason even made an appearance in Outsiders #44-46, there Red Hood wanted to help the Outsiders break out a good man (Black Lightning) out of prison because he hadn’t killed anyone (it had actually been Slade). Jason/Red Hood’s characterization and story going downhill wasn't on Winick, it was on DC and their lack of interest in making their characters complex and dual.

“DC doesn’t know how to write a character that’s from a poor background and that’s a huge disservice to Jason”

Absolutely. But in my case, I do think that Winick did work with Jason’s background very well. To me, he set a path and no one could follow it but I might also be horribly wrong.

-

I also hope that Rosenberg does an amazing job! I absolutely love his work, as I have said before he is super funny and isn’t scared of writing characters who kill. I feel like he will bring back the sarcastic little shit that Jason once was but he will also bring back that sense of seriousness and dedication that Jason has for the work that he is doing. Rosenberg even showed us some of that in that prelude to Task Force Z in Detective Comics, I absolutely recommend them if you haven’t read them, issues #1041 and #1042 were the ones with that backup story.

I can see that we have very different opinions but that’s just a part of the comic world, we all perceive these comics differently and that’s valid! I am glad you enjoy reading my posts and I hope that even though we have those different opinions you were still able to enjoy my answer! If you think that I misunderstood anything that you say please let me know, sometimes my brain just doesn’t click.

Hope you have a fantastic week!

[spyvstailor]

GRAVEYARD DIRT & SALT

CHAPTER FIVE: BENNY

“South Carolina abouts they have this critter called a 'Boo Hag', said to be a skinless sort of vampire and they like to ride you to death and steal your breath. If they like you, they keep you alive, sucking your air, sustaining themselves. But if they don't, if you struggle or make them angry, they skin you and wear your skin. Just walk around like they wear pants or such. But they can't stay riding you forever, they gotta be home and in their skin before sunrise or they become trapped forever without skin.”

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Chapter Five: Benny

When everything went to hell, Benny had been at the top.

  Maybe he still was? He had no idea how Vegas handled the swarms of the dead.

  Probably no better than Atlanta.

 God, what a fucking hole in the ground to be caught undead in. Why had he even agreed to come here to the middle of Satan's nutsack to make a deal?

  By the time he waded through the packed streets, filled with fleeing idiots, days had passed and the wave of infection had spread.

  When he made it to the edge of the city, it was almost completely overrun.

 And his private helicopter, that last hope he had of leaving Georgia, was useless, no pilot. So, he was wading his way through the land of good ol' boys and peaches, heading home.

  Because what else did he do? Just stay stuck in Georgia with the undead on his ass? Forever? The idea seemed to tickle him. It was divine retribution for all his sins. This was hell. He was in hell. Well, thanks but no thanks. He'd take his chances back in Vegas with his well-stocked warehouse and his penthouse in The Golden Rose.

  God, he missed The Golden Rose. Melody's pretty little voice chirping 'Hello, welcome to The Golden Rose', every time he passed through the lobby, or the weird night gamblers bellying up at the bar around two in the morning, sipping on complimentary Flash-bang's, the signature drink created by Bruce behind the bar. Sure he had more employees than Melody and Bruce, the others, the late-night workers who always were just a little bit off, but friendly enough. The kids fresh out of school, old enough to work at the casino, who tried too hard to impress the boss. Sven in the kitchen, who never seemed to leave, always yelling at him for coming down and making those 'nasty little sandwiches' as he called them, the open-faced ones made with peanut butter and sliced bananas on plain white bread, the sandwiches Valerie had gotten him hooked on when they were first dating. They were her favourite midnight snack and they had fast become Benny's too.

  Valerie.

  Ten years. Holy fuck had it been ten years?

 Plucking at a stretchy beaded bracelet he wore, Benny snapped it hard and shook off his thoughts of Valerie. They didn't do him any good in this new society.

  From where he sat. Perched on the railing of the bell tower, looking down across a darkened Georgia, barely peeking over treetops that surrounded the convent, Benny exhaled.

  Annie had given him the stink-eye at their new spot, full of bird shit and leaves and any kind of crap that the winds blew into the little tower, but Benny had sat her down gently onto the bearskin rug and the sleeping bag on top of it and promised her they would clean it up in the morning.

  He didn't tell her what he was thinking, he didn't tell a lot of people what he thought, no one wanted to hear his bullshit. His old man used to say 'if I want your opinion, I'll beat it out of you' and he meant it.

  The truth was, the trouble on the wall, the nun dying, had reminded him how dangerous it was. He had become too soft and spoiled lately, the dead were thinning out and he had forgotten what it was like when the outbreak first happened when it was really bad.

  They were safer in the tower, should anything happen to the gate, there was a heavy church door to open and a narrow ladder to climb before anything could get at them.

  And, sitting on the trapdoor that led to the ladder, Benny knew Annie was safer here than anywhere else.

 It had been a long, long time since anyone had relied on Benny and he took his job seriously. Nothing would happen to Annie as long as he was alive and kicking.

  During his flight from Atlanta, he had somehow wound up arm in arm with Annie and her mother Laila. They had sort of run across each other and just kept running in the same direction.

  Benny had immediately liked Laila, she was tough as hell and he had to admire that about her. Not that he knew much about her or the kid, they weren't real big on talking and he also had to admit he liked it that way.

  But Laila had his back and he had hers and they made a good team, but when she went out one morning to scrounge for breakfast and never came back he didn't think for a second the dead had gotten her. He knew her, she was a survivor.

  Something else happened.

 So he stuck around the area, hoping he'd find something which would let him know where Laila had gotten off too. And somehow, sticking around the small town, he wound up running into that marine and that Grayson kid, and when the kid started talking about men taking his sister, Benny started thinking. He wasn't a gambler by nature, despite him living in a casino in Las Vegas, but he would bet everything he had that when they found these men, he would find Laila.

  And Jesus, if he didn't also kind of like that marine.

 Not that he'd ever admitted that out loud. Admitting you liked someone, admitting you wanted to be someone's – what? Drinking buddy? At his age? Embarrassing.

  But he liked him just fine. The Cajun was a tall puppy dog, but there was something about his optimism that balanced Benny's nihilism nicely.

  On the wall below, three nuns kept vigil over Sister Mary Patrick's body. They couldn't retrieve her until morning, so they kept a quiet, mindful watch.

  And just like those nuns, Benny would keep a silent watch over Annie all night long, he would sleep when she was old enough to take care of herself.

 Sitting by the nuns' water pump in their convent yard the next morning, he watched Annie as she brushed her teeth, brushing his own with the travel toothbrush he kept in his jacket pocket. He liked to travel as light as possible, gun, bullets, knife, toothbrush and tube of toothpaste, and while he'd never admitted it, reading glasses for emergency reading, because fuck if he wasn't getting old.

  He noticed the marine traveled with a goddamn apartment on his back and that was just fine for him. Marines were trained for distance and roughing it, they were pack mules. And just as dumb.

  He needed more bullets for his tidy little Springfield, come to think of it.

  “She's a good kid,” someone said from his left. It was a male voice and not Grayson's.

 Benny ignored the marine for a moment, not wanting to chat about the fucking weather or some bullshit, spitting his toothpaste foam into a bucket of water to be dumped over the wall with the rest of the handwashing and face washing water.

  There was a nun's body being buried out behind the church right now and he didn't feel like jibber-jabbing.

 “We did our best last night,” the Lieutenant said, easing down beside him on one of the folding chairs the nuns had set up around their water source. For what? Water pump gossip? Maybe.

  “Dead nun though,” Benny replied, sipping at some water to rinse his mouth.

  The marine was quiet beside him, gazing out across the dewy lawns.

  “I didn't mean to put the squeeze to you,” he began. “Yesterday in the church. I know you don't like talking about yourself.”

  “Sure you did,” Benny returned.

 Withdrawing for a moment to regroup, the marine went on, “fine. I did a little, but...it's hard trusting people nowadays, yeah?”

  “Hard to trust people before this bullshit,” Benny shot back.

  “Fair.”

 There was a tension to the marine that told Benny he was gearing up for something, angling to reach for something during the entire conversation.

  “You got something to say, don't pussyfoot,” he said calmly.

 “Not that I don't believe you, but I want a reassurance that you're not trying to fuck us on this deal with the copter,” the marine said.

  Benny nodded. “Yeah, I thought you'd think that. I wouldn't blame you. But it's real.”

  “Well, we go in smart then,” the man stated.

  “We go in smart,” Benny agreed, stretching out his legs and resting them on another chair across from him.

  Beside him the marine remained seated, quiet in the growing daylight.

  “We done?” Benny inquired.

  “You ever hear about the boo hags?”

  “The what?”

 “South Carolina abouts they have this critter called a 'Boo Hag', said to be a skinless sort of vampire and they like to ride you to death and steal your breath. If they like you, they keep you alive, sucking your air, sustaining themselves. But if they don't, if you struggle or make them angry, they skin you and wear your skin. Just walk around like they wear pants or such. But they can't stay riding you forever, they gotta be home and in their skin before sunrise or they become trapped forever without skin.”

  “And the moral of this story is...?” Benny prompted.

  The Lieutenant shrugged, folding his arms. “Nothing really, I just think about the Boo Hags sometimes.”

 “My granny used to tell me about this guy she knew from Corpus Christi, used to hate wearing pants. He wasn't crazy or anything, just said they were too hot and itchy, so he'd walk around in his boxer shorts everywhere.”

  Around them, the nuns went about their morning routine, chores, and preparing for their morning mass after burying their fellow nun.

  “Well,” Benny said. “Maybe he was a little crazy, I guess.”

 Annie came to him and climbed into his lap, watching the activity around them quietly. It was a strange sort of calm to the morning, despite the funeral. It felt like the soft morning's Benny had at his grandparents, warms sunlight, peace, and quiet before the hectic activity of the day. It brought him back home to a home he mourned every single day of his life, a home he had only fleetingly as a boy before it was replaced with the boozy smelling mornings of his parents home.

 “Mornings like this feel like my Mamere getting ready for church,” the Lieutenant said. “She used to sing when she was getting ready in the mornings, and she'd sing,

There's a land that is fairer than day,

and by faith we can see it afar;

for the Father waits over the way

to prepare us a dwelling place there.”

 In his lap Annie rest her head against Benny's chest, listening to the marine as he sang in a fine, deep baritone. Benny knew the song well, it was his grandmother's favourite. When she finally came and took him home, to his real home with her and his grandfather, away from the chaos of his mother and father's lives.

  They were the only people who ever really loved him.

 The hymn brought back memories of Sunday mornings dressing for church, of Sunday evenings with the smell of roast chicken and his granny's baked apples, sweetened with brown sugar, butter, and cinnamon, sticky and warm.

  He didn't live with them long. They were hit by a drunk driver and killed two years after he moved in with them. Benny went back to the chaos and Edna and Merle were buried in Oak Grove.

 At the sound of the gentle singing, a few nearby nuns gathered in closer, curious, and quiet. Raised Baptist by his grandparents at least, Benny joined in with the marine, singing only very, very faintly, as though he were doing it for his granny and no one else. He would sing in a voice only barely above a whisper.

  It was Annie who joined in the singing, almost eager and happy to do something that wasn't fighting and surviving.

In the sweet by and by,

we shall meet on that beautiful shore.

In the sweet by and by,

we shall meet on that beautiful shore.

We shall sing on that beautiful shore

the melodious songs of the blessed;

and our spirits shall sorrow no more,

not a sigh for the blessing of rest.

In the sweet by and by,

we shall meet on that beautiful shore.

In the sweet by and by,

we shall meet on that beautiful shore.

To our bountiful Father above

we will offer our tribute of praise

for the glorious gift of his love

and the blessings that hallow our days.

 “My granny used to sing that one too,” Benny finally admitted, in the stark silence at the end of the song. “Yours lived with you?” He asked.

  The Lieutenant nodded. “Yeah, my grandparents raised me.”

  “Where were your parents?” Benny asked.

 “Due to circumstances beyond my control, nowhere in sight,” the Lieutenant replied, a grin in his voice. “My ma was hospitalized most of my young life,” he added in a more serious tone. “The man who impregnated her was...not important.”

  “Pump and dump?”

  “Of sorts, not really given permission for it though,” the Cajun finished tentatively.

  Benny felt his blood chill a little. “I get you.” He said, not wanting the marine to have to open up old wounds.

  “You?”

  “I lived with my grandparents for a while, yeah. My parents were...selfish pricks, they lived in Galveston.”

 “I get you,” the marine repeated his own words. Easing back in his chair, the Cajun asked, “where you from? Where'd you grow up? You said you lived in Forth Worth?”

  “My grandparents lived in Fort Worth, so I guess I moved between there and Galveston mostly.”

  “What happened to the twang? You lose it or hate it?” The Lieutenant inquired.

  Benny chuckled. “I haven't lived there for years.”

  “Can never really shake the twang though, yeah?” The Lieutenant teased.

  “I guess not. You? I know Cajun when I hear it, but where you from in Louisiana?”

  “Eunice.”

 “Eunice? That's...down south, isn't it? Way down the bayou,” he mocked the Lieutenant's accent, prompting the marine to laugh.

  “Yeah, yeah it is.”

 “Annie,” he turned to the kid in his lap. “Why don't you head inside the infirmary, okay? I'll be right there to get you set up for the day.”

 The girl slipped down to the ground and nodded, heading obediently for the building where Grayson was already getting his shit together.

 Sullen, a little pissed that he was forced to face things he had buried long ago in Texas, Benny remained quiet for a good long time. Long enough that eventually the anger dispersed.

  Benny sat still and silent so long that eventually, it was just him and the Cajun, who remained, squatted down on his haunches, resting.

  “We're running on a very short timeline,” Benny finally said to the man.

  The marine nodded. “Yep.”

 “That girl, if she is still alive, won't be so young and vibrant if she's with these men, I can tell you that right now. Feel like with no law, men will become animals, women will become prey.”

  “What's going on in that tiny bird brain of yours?” The Cajun asked.

  “You need to stay here and train up some of these damned nuns, right?”

  “Yeah.”

 “Think you could trust me?” Benny asked suddenly, turning away from the middle nothing he was staring at and pining the Cajun with a look.

 For a good long while the marine eyed him back, blue-grey eyes hard and scrutinizing. At rest the man's face was regal, but villainous, betraying his genuine kindness, at rest his face was the face of a man you didn't want to fuck with.

  “Yeah, I think so.”

  “You're going to have to know so,” Benny urged.

  “Alright, I know I can trust you.”

  “It might be riskier, but time is important, isn't it?”

  “What's your plan, fancy man?”

 “When I was poking around the church earlier, I spied some priest shit, a get up for a proper man of the Lord. Might give me a pretty good shield, might get me close enough to those men if I can find them, to get inside their group.”

  “Espionage?”

  “Whoa, slow down there Bayou-bred, that's a big word for you.”

  The two men hushed up as Grayson began to head over towards them.

  “Fuck off, Grayson!” Benny shouted.

  “Fuck you, assclown!” Grayson snarled back, veering off in anger towards the wall and the gate.

  “That kid is going to murder you in your sleep some night, paon.” The Lieutenant mused.

  “Ah well, he's a good kid, needs toughening up. Mouthy little fuck though.”

 The two men settled a little again, their ruffled feathers smoothing out in the tranquility that followed the exchange between Benny and Grayson.

  “You could get yourself killed ducking in on a group like a priest. If they find out you're not or if they happen to find out what you're up to.”

  “I know,” Benny replied. “But I'm good at it.”

  “Good at it?” The Lieutenant asked.

  Benny smiled. “Getting into places I shouldn't be as someone I'm not.”

  The Cajun was quiet, before sighing. “Okay. Cut the shit, what the fuck are you?”

 “I'm goddamned good at what I do. You just worry about these nuns. When I head out, you need to do one thing for me. You just need to trust that whatever happens once I leave this convent, I'm not going to fuck you over. Annie will stay here, she'll be my guarantee that I won't let anything happen.”

  “Okay.”

  “You tell anyone you need that I ran off in the night, just not Annie. You tell her I'll be back. You need to do this for me. Can you do this?”

  “I don't like handing the reins over, but...you're right. Time is important and these nuns can't be left alone. Splitting up might be the best bet for everyone. I'll play my part.”

  “Pact?” Benny offered, holding out his hand. He knew it was childish, but he wanted God (if there be any) to witness his honesty. For once in his goddamned life of other names, other faces, he wanted some higher power to see his bluffing ass telling a truth.

  The Lieutenant leaned back a little, before saying, “brothers. It makes you blood. You don't cross blood.”

  “Brothers,” Benny swore, the two men shaking hands firmly.

 Releasing hands, the two men sat back a little, trying to look like two men just sharing a conversation, as Mena poked her head out of the convent cloister and started their way.

  “We meet up tonight, dead of night when everyone is asleep, in the back room of the church,” Benny said softly, hurrying before Mena could join them.

  The Lieutenant nodded.

  “Gentlemen,” Mena greeted in the high toned, pretty magnolia blossom voice of hers. Pure sugar, pure south. “Good morning.”

  “Why Miss Mena, you're as pretty as a bluebell this morning,” Benny teased, mocking her southern accent.

 She offered him a stern, but sparkling warning look, the corners of her mouth lifted a little like a cat. She looked like she was grateful for the teasing distraction, grateful because otherwise, it was pure mourning and fear that remained should she not have anything to distract her from it. “You may mock me all you want, Mr. Malone, but I lost one of my flock last night and I'm not in the mood. Now, we've buried the poor woman, and we were promised training. The sooner the better, I think.”

  “Are you thinking of staying? You and Annie are very welcome to.”

 They had gotten the nuns started with whatever makeshift weapons they could find and while the Lieutenant gave them a rifle handling and maintenance crash course, Mena had once more sidled up beside Benny as he stood in the shadows of the eastern side of the church, watching the chaos, while idly thumbing through a small bible he had found in the church.

  “You're thinking of the wrong man,” he replied, motioning with his head at the marine. “He's probably yours for life though.”

 She smiled. “We love having you here, Mr. Malone. All of you.” She hesitated, before adding, “I sort of forgot how boring convent life can be until you all arrived to shake things up. Granted, we suffered a loss, but...I think we're stronger with you and the Lieutenant and even Annie and Grayson. We're no longer cloistered, we're a community center, a...a home.”

  He opened his mouth about to say something, before considering it, finally he relented. “I know a nun's faith is sacred to her, but...why did you become a nun? You seem...unhappy with your lot.”

  “I wouldn't say unhappy,” she replied. “I'm ungrateful in a small way. I became a nun to help people. Work missions and aid the poor and those most unfortunate. I suppose, I just...never felt like I was helping much here. Feel sort of immured behind these walls.”

  “Immured?”

  Before Mena could answer his question,  the Lieutenant joined them, easing against the church for a rest in the shade.

  “So?” Benny asked him.

 “Well, they don't like the idea of hitting anyone, seem hesitant, but I think when push comes to shove they know how to do it.”

  Scoffing, Benny turned to Mena. “What about you, debutante? Wanna fight with the others?”

  Mena laughed. “I'm afraid I don't care much for fighting.”

  “You need to learn how,” he went on.

  “I know how to throw a punch, Mr. Malone,” Mena argued gently.

 Inhaling calmly, Benny scooped the nun up easily in one move and had her stomach perched on his shoulder as she dangled over it in shock, her legs and knees digging into his chest in shock.

  “So you're telling me,” Benny began as Mena struggled to be put down, trying to maintain her dignity while being treated like a sack of flour, “you know how to prevent being carted off by someone like this?”

  “Mr. Malone, please?!” Mena shouted, panicked. Her ever calm facade breaking into a sort of girlish embarrassment. Shrill and just a little tremulous.

  “Don't break the nun,” the Lieutenant warned with a small grin.

 Sensing the rest of the nuns' attention and maybe wanting to cheer them up just a little with a distraction from the death of Sister Mary Patrick, Benny perked a little more, hefting the woman on his shoulder as she squirmed.

  “Are you kidding me?” He demanded loudly. “I'm two steps away from giving her a noogie. This is fun. I'm going to hold her down and snicker-snag on her if she can't break away.”

  “Don't you dare! Put me down!” Mena shouted as the rest of the nuns began to notice the noise and started wandering over towards them curiously.

  “Look at how small she is,” Benny laughed. “I could toss her over the wall into a pile of leaves like a little mouse. Hey, give me a hand, I want to try playing keep-away with this shrimp.”

 “Are you seriously bullying me right now, Mr. Malone?” Mena demanded, still draped over his shoulder, her veil fluttering to the ground, all dignity lost. “Lieutenant, please?”

  “I can't step into another man's training ring,” the Lieutenant lied. “It's not courteous.”

  “Courteous?!” The nun hollered.

  “Think if I put her down and follow her she'll lead me to her pot of gold?” Benny asked, spinning with the nun.

  A stray knee from the poor nun hit Benny in the mouth and he reeled back a little, blood drawn.

  “Alright, play time's over, kids,” the Lieutenant stepped in, moving to take Mena from Benny.

 As soon as the Cajun set Mena right again, kneeling to get her veil for her, she was puffing up like a little ruffed grouse and twirling around to poke at Benny in the chest.

  He was too distracted by the taste of blood on his lip to notice.

 Behind them the nuns that had gathered were all trying to conceal their amusement at the scene, a few of them giggling into their veils, some turning their soft laughter into mild coughs.

  “Serves you right,” Mena stated. “The indignity!”

  Benny, idly licking at his torn lip, grinned and held his hands up. “Hey, okay. Put the guns away, shrimp, you win.”

 “Blood has been drawn, no harm done,” the Lieutenant said. At Mena's sharp look, he amended that statement to a soft, “maybe?”

  “I am an Abbess,” Mena snarled, whirling on Benny again, her little finger pointed at him like a rifle. “I deserve a modicum of respect.”

  “A what?” Benny asked, pocketing his hands. “Hey, don't get mad, country mouse, you said you could handle yourself, and boy, did you sure prove me wrong.”

  “I,” Mena began, a little louder than her normal soft-spoken Southern belle coo. She stopped short and seemed to inhale, calming herself. “I...will not let you goad me into a fight, just to prove myself capable, Mr. Malone.”

  “One punch,” he pushed. “Just one solid punch and I'll leave you alone.”

  Mena was quiet, still trying to smooth her habit and veil back into place after her manhandling.

  “It might give you back a bit of that lost dignity,” Benny added in a whisper, leaning towards her.

  “Sock him, Mother!” One of the older nuns shouted.

  “And just like that the teachings of peace and forgiveness of Christ have been forgotten,” Mena murmured.

  “If you punch him then he'll stop being a bully,” another nun suggested.

  “I don't think Sister Mary Patrick would approve of this,” another nun pointed out.

  “Like it nothing, she'd love to see this cheeky man popped in his cheeky face,” yet another nun added.

  “I will not,” Mena declared. “We are not animals and I refuse to hit a man without due cause.”

 “He just picked you up like you were a duffle bag, just hit him in his pretty face and get it all over with,” Sister Mary Agnes, one of the few nuns Benny could tell apart suggested. “I would,” she added, before crossing herself quickly in a form of silent absolution.

  “Aw,” Benny gushed. “She thinks I'm pretty. Come on, Abbess, just give me one solid punch and prove yourself capable. Come on,” he went on, “I know there's an animal concealed under those robes of yours, let the lioness out.”

  “Lieutenant?” Mena asked.

  The tall man sort of took a thoughtful step back on one foot and considered it quietly, before he answered with a simple, “hit him.”

  Mena was quiet, sizing up Benny for a bit.

  He could see her small hands curling into fists at her side and tightened his jaw to take the hit.

  Instead, Mena's hands relaxed and she shook her head, turning to Annie who was watching.

  “We don't hit people who don't deserve it,” she explained to the child. “A lady must always take the high road.”

  “As short as she is, the high road would be the best option,” Benny murmured.

  Mena leveled her chin almost indignantly, still looking at Annie.

 “Good for you, Mother,” Mary Elizabeth said. “Remember Matthew 5:39. But I say to you, do not resist an evil person; but whoever slaps you on your right cheek, turn the other to him also.”

  “If he keeps taunting her I'll show him both cheeks,” one of the older nuns grumbled.

 Benny laughed to himself. He didn't know much about each individual nun yet, but he knew he liked the older nun with just that one sentence.

 “We are not a boxing club,” Mena went on. “Though we will train to defend ourselves, senseless violence is never the right path. Despite how much a man may want to be hit by a lady.”

  “It's always been my dream,” Benny added playfully.

  “I'm gonna hit him for you,” the Lieutenant broke in.

  Laughing, Benny backed away, hands up. “Okay, I wanted to get hit, not knocked out today.”

  This seemed to break up the gathering, nuns moving off, heading back to their training.

  Mena, still a little fired up, remained for a moment.

  “No hard feelings, Thumbelina,” Benny said. “I just wanted to see your form.”

 “I'm sure you felt enough of my form while I was riding high on your shoulder,” she returned a little bitterly, before walking off.

  Benny sidled up beside the Lieutenant, still grinning. “She was real mad.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Has kind of a temper.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I kind of liked it.”

  “Easy now.”

  “Don't tell me you've never thought of picking her up,” Benny went on. “She's so fucking small.”

  The Lieutenant smiled. “I mean, I could.”

 “Hell yeah, you could. You could pick me up, big guy.” As they walked off, heading for the infirmary, Annie following behind, the fancy man added, “but don't ever fucking try, because I will lay you out.”

  Chuckling, the Lieutenant opened the infirmary door for the shorter man and said, “you could never, little fancy man.”

 Inside the infirmary Grayson sat on his cot, reading a well-thumbed copy of some real crime book, looking bored and still angry.

  “Hey kid,” Benny greeted. “You need to learn some fighting too or do you think you'll pull some karate moves out of your ass when the time comes?”

  “Could kick your ass,” the kid grumbled.

  “Want to give it a try?” Benny offered sincerely. “See what you got?”

  “You have, like, thirty years on me, think I'd win, grandpa,” Grayson replied.

  “Only one way to find out.”

 “You think you'll be ready to head out tomorrow morning?” The Lieutenant asked the kid, playing his part perfectly to Benny's delight. At least the marine had a poker face. “We have to get to that airfield before noon if we want to find proper camp before dark.”

  “I was ready two days ago, what have you two been doing?”

  “Keeping these nuns safe first and foremost,” Benny said. “You know, about eleven lives versus one? Using our brains.”

  Grayson glowered at him.

  “Can the shitty attitude, we're trying,” Benny went on firmly.

 “Tomorrow,” the Lieutenant said firmly, breaking up the tension, “we will continue on the hunt for these men. Right now, I have to head out to get something for dinner for all of us.”

  “Not taking your life partner with you?” Grayson asked.

  “Surprisingly progressive, kid,” Benny mused, folding his arms. “I don't even think it's an insult.”

  “More observational than insulting,” the Lieutenant added.

  “You could do worse than me,” Benny teased.

 “Could do better too, paon.” The marine retorted dryly, offering Benny a small grin as he grabbed up his rifle. “Don't kill each other while I'm gone, yeah?”

  “Can I hang him from a flag pole again?” Benny asked. “Seems to be the best way to take the bite out of him.”

  “Fuck you, Benny,” Grayson growled.

  “That is no way to speak to your elders, son!” Benny replied.

  “Come on, kid. Let's head out for a hunt.” The Lieutenant said, stepping in calmly.

  Grayson jumped up, eager to finally help, but couldn't resist grumbling, “don't call me 'kid', old man.”

  “Don't call me old, son,” the Lieutenant murmured, ducking out of the infirmary after the boy.

  Alone in the infirmary now with Annie, Benny inhaled and turned to her.

  “You like those two?”

  She shrugged.

 Looking at the child in his care, Benny wanted to say something to her, to emote. But emotions were never his thing, once he opened that pandora's box they wouldn't stop. So he reached out and ruffled her hair, the two puffs on top, at least.

  He liked the kid, he really did. Hell, he could almost admit to himself that he loved her and if it wasn't for circumstances and his fucking weak need to be helpful, he wouldn't be leaving her at the convent.

  There were mornings, before they ran into the marine, that he would wake up from light, cautious sleep, to find her sitting up and watching him.

  She never said much, and he always wondered what was going on in her undeveloped little noodle, she didn't even really speak much even when Laila was with them. Horrors, he assumed, something that kept Laila on edge and wary of their surroundings, haunted the two of them and when Benny found the mother and child, or rather when they had found him, they were almost feral.

  He assumed it was something to do with the wedding ring on Laila's finger, of the way it took Annie months to finally take his hand without him telling her to.

  She kept close to him now, she had lost her father – as far as Benny knew, and now her mother and the child was wafting on the breeze, drifting around with no moorings. Nothing to tether her to safety and comfort, but for him.

  And Benny hated that it had to be him that poor girl relied on. He wasn't reliable, not to people who loved him – at least. He had cut his moorings a long time ago, or...maybe they had rotted with Valerie. Moldering in the grave with his beautiful wife, her cold hands clutching the last strands of the rope that had kept him from drifting.

 He didn't mind being tethered by Valerie, he liked it even. Whenever he'd go off and come home, he had a home to come to. She would be there, bright and smiling, her flower garden always in bloom, it seemed, even in the cold Rhode Island winters, when the wind came across the Atlantic frigid and cruel.

  She had died in the winter, or the early spring, rather. March. The witches tit of a month, the cold, brown spring.

  Valerie wanted to be buried, not cremated, so they had to wait another month before she could be buried.

  Benny was gone long before that. He had left the night she died, just walked away.

 He liked the poetic idea of their beautiful home and everything in it rotting with his wife, like the idea of her garden drying up and withering. No one deserved her things, or her garden or even dare come near anywhere she had walked.

  If he could, he would have built a stone wall, higher than the one that kept them safe at the convent, wider than it needed to be, all around Rhode Island. He would have kept everyone from that state. It would become a shrine to Valerie. His angel. Patient and sweet and everything he didn't fucking deserve.

 So with no option to do any of that, he burned Rhode Island from his mind, it didn't exist in his world. It was a crater, with his wife dead in the center.

  Everything he owned, everything that remained clinging to him when he walked away, was thrown into the ocean to fucking disappear. Except for his wedding band, wrapped like a napkin ring around a rolled-up photo of her, that he kept in his sock, secured by the knife strap he wore.

  When he began to feel too alive, he would torment himself, like a form of self-harm, only instead of cutting his body, he wounded his soul. He would unroll that photo and wear that ring and he would feel every moment of sorrow all over again.

  Was that healthy? Was grieving like that right? No. He knew it was sick.

 But life was fucking sick, because she was good and he was not, and she died, starving to death because the cancer that had started in her uterus had swept viciously through her body, into her stomach and everything she ate, would be thrown up, black and diseased. And she withered fast, like a rose when the frost touches it.

  But she didn't wither fast enough not to suffer.

 And even now, with the fucking infected, or the dead, whoever you asked, when they ravaged and tore people apart, he somehow lived. At first, he wanted to live, it was human nature to fight to survive.

  Valerie wanted to live too, and she died. So he would live for her if only to eat all the pain he couldn't eat of hers.

 And then he had Annie and Laila, and while they were never anything more than people surviving together, Benny had formed an attachment, the first kind of real attachment to the two of them. He had begun to re-weave that tether that had rotted away from Valerie and then one morning, Laila was just gone.

  She had left a note, she always did when she went out on her own to scavenge.

  But she never came back.

  And Benny felt another tether begin to rot.

  He was a man struggling to hold on to a handful of sand in a wind storm.

  So he held Annie's tether tight because he knew she held his just as tight.

  Yes. He did love the child.

 He wished the world was better for her, but he thanked the chaos and the randomness of numbers that he had her, and if these men had Laila, if she fell prey to them, he would get her back if she was alive and he would hand over the tether that Annie held that connected to him, back to her mother.

  But he was still stunted and fucked up emotionally, so all of this, loving the kid and wanting everything for her, came out in a hand rubbing the top of her head. Because Benny's parents didn't hug and Benny didn't know what to do with a child, he and Valerie had never had one and they never talked about having one. And then she died and he had never been around children except when he was one.

  So he tousled her hair and thought to himself that maybe someday he'd be able to express himself to someone else.

 Maybe someday Rhode Island would exist on his maps again. Maybe Valerie would finally rest in peace because he could move on and grow and learn to be a human being.

  Or maybe he would die trying to get Laila back to her mother and that girl back to her brother and maybe there would be no lesson for him to learn, no more room for him to grow.

  Maybe Georgia would become to Annie what Rhode Island was to Benny. Not because of him, he didn't assume the child held any love for him, she was only clinging to him because she was lost, no perhaps she would bury Georgia behind a wall, because of her mother, because of her father, because of the dead and because every day she woke up, she had to see a corpse.

  No child should ever have to live in a real nightmare.

  Or.

 Or maybe someday, Annie would stitch Georgia back together, maybe there could be hope for her future. The dead were thinning out and maybe her mother would return and maybe she'd find happiness, though he knew she would still have nightmares about the dead, he had nightmares about the dead, about Laila and Valerie and Annie, all roaming across the wastelands of his dreams, their eyes cloudy, milky with rot, because the cornea's had no blood flow, their fingertips turning black, their skin waxy and bloated.

  Since it had begun, Benny had seen too many children among the dead, small forms, corpses that hungered, but never seemed to eat, only tear and shred and maim.

  The thing was, the dead or the infected didn't make very loud sounds. They shuffled and they slogged, their feet dragging, but they didn't moan like the movie zombies, they would give off mewl-like moans. Something almost like the air just rising up from their bloated bellies. It was soft enough to miss if you weren't listening for it. And it wasn't often like they were sleeping and then would moan or when they mimicked and exhale of air. They were near silent forms moving like manifest destiny towards eternity.

  Beside him, Annie was very much alive and he would make sure she stayed that way. Benny was nothing if resourceful and he could use those resources to the best of his ability.

  If brute strength and survival were what the Lieutenant did best, Benny's abilities were subversive action and artful manipulation.

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Burned Part 4

Summary: Alfie Solomons is in need of a secretary. Tommy Shelby mentions a young woman in need of employment. From there the two step into a dangerous dance together.

Chapter Summary: Alfie gets his own revenge on Louise’s husband and has to face the consequences. 

Warnings: Violence, mention of suicidal thoughts. 

         Even though Louise was prospering in Camden Town, Alfie didn’t let go of the grudge he had against her husband. He still noticed when the stitches on her stomach caused her pain. The slight wince crossing her features and the sharp gasp of discomfort. Tommy was hesitant to give the man’s name to Alfie. But he gave in as long as Alfie promised not to do anything more than just break his nose or few fingers. After all, Louise didn’t ask the Peaky Blinders to kill her husband.

           A few days passed and Alfie waited patiently, or as patiently as he could.

           One night, after everyone had gone home, sounds of a scuffle started to kick up in the warehouse. Puzzled, Alfie stood up and reached for his gun. He opened the door and saw a few of his boys. “What you doing?” He strode over to them, pocketing his gun. “Fucking go home.” His boots shuffled heavily across the concrete floor of the distillery. The metallic sounds of his cane echoing through the large warehouse.

           “We found the man you were looking for, Mr. Solomons, Kelly.” One of the boys shoved a lanky man to the floor. Offering him like a sacrificial lamb to their boss.

           “Oh…very nice. Go on, stand up.” Alfie poked at him with his cane as he tucked his gun away. He’d have to keep his finger off the trigger so he would limit himself to just physical force.

           The man staggered to his feet, clutching his stomach in pain having been jumped while staggering out of the bar. “What hell do you think you’re doin’?” He demanded.

           The man reeked of alcohol and he was disheveled. He was taller than Alfie but looked like a weed, easy to snuff out but annoying as hell. One of those gits that didn’t know when to quit. Alfie hated men like that.

           “Daniel Kelly, correct?”

           The man had dirty blonde hair sticking to his sweat covered forehead. He squinted and tried to size up the gangster boss through his gin-kaleidoscope vision. “Yeah, who’s asking?”

           “Well, that don’t matter, do it? All that matters is you’ve been a bit unkind to one of me employees, yeah?” Alfie cracked his knuckles and gripped his cane tightly.

           “Don’t know what you’re fuckin’ talking’ about.” The man was too intoxicated to see what sort of danger he was in. It was a shame what gin did to inflate the ego. Alfie had killed a lot of men who were so hopped up on liquid courage that they didn’t turn away when they had the chance. Pesky flies just begging to be smacked down by a biblical force.

           “Don’t even know who you are, mate. Where am I?”

           “Now why would a man harm his wife?” Alfie looked at his boys. “Any guesses, lads?”

           They didn’t respond, knowing their boss was just working up to the finale of caving the man’s face in. It wasn’t wise to interrupt his monologue lest they wanted to join the victim.

           “No? I’ve got one.” He raised his right hand as if he’d come to a divine epiphany. “Maybe, right, he’s a fucking lowlife and a drunk who don’t deserve someone like her. What you think, mate?”

           “Louise?” Daniel furrowed his eyebrows and his lanky body wavered, trying to stay upright. “You talkin’ ‘bout me wife?”

           Alfie didn’t answer. He was on a roll of working himself up, stroking his temper like a feral tiger ready to be unleashed. “Thing is, I like going through me day without having to come across fucking scum of the Earth, like you.” He jabbed his finger at his chest. “I also prefer women not get taking advantage of. You fucking think you're tough, yeah? Picking on a girl half your size. Think it makes you man?”

           “Bigger man than you,” Daniel smirked and looked down at the Jewish gangster. “Fucking little man.”

           Alfie just chuckled darkly. His associates knew that was the last straw and braced themselves for impact.

           “Right…” He passed his cane to his other hand and punched the man with a power that nearly caved his entire face in.

           Daniel’s nose made a sickening crack and blood poured down his face. He collapsed to his knees holding his face. “Jus’ tell me where she is, this ain’t any of your fuckin’ business!” His voice was distorted from his broken nose. Dark warmth pooling in his palms, streams slipping out between his fingers and down the front of his hand. Thick blood drops hit the concrete with a sticky sounding plunk.

           “It is me fucking business because look where you are. You’re standing in me bakery and ain’t no one gonna hear you scream, mate. You tried to kill my secretary. You dug your own fucking grave, mate, you put yourself here.” Alfie calmly wiped the blood from his knuckles. Blood spatter accenting his sleeves in a violent design. “Next time I hear about you doing something else like this, I’m gonna have me boys bring you back here, to me, and I’m going to fucking break your fucking legs!” His voice lost its frightening restraint. His shout rang loudly through the bakery, frightening a few birds from the rafters. “Yeah? Got it? Get up, and fuck off. Don’t fucking let me catch you doing this again.” Alfie turned and went to walk away. Despite the irritating nature of the man, he assumed his job was done and the message was clear. Although, Alfie had a sliver of hope that his threats didn’t get through Daniel’s thick skull. He decided he would want the pleasure of breaking a few more bones.

           He’d get the final laugh anyways.

           “Have fun with her then, she’s a fuckin’ whore, she’ll open her legs up for anyone, even a fuckin’ monster like you,” Daniel called out after him and spat at the ground. His saliva clotted with blood.

           Alfie stopped in his tracks. His hands curling into fists as his temper hit a peak. He threw his cane with a loud clang against the concrete floor. He walked over to him with the devil shaking beneath him. A storm raged in his ocean colored eyes. He reached into his waistcoat and retrieved a switchblade. It was typically for daily use but Alfie didn’t discriminate against weapons. If it could kill a man, he’d use it.

           Daniel gave him a look of confusion when he returned, trying to hold his shirt over his bleeding nose.

           “Right,” The gangster dragged Daniel to his feet and slammed him up against a nearby support beam. “Guess what I’m gonna do with this?” Alfie flipped open the blade and held it to the man’s stubble-covered jaw. “I’m gonna do the same thing you did to Miss Barnes. ‘Cept you’re not going to live. I’m sending you straight to fucking hell, you save a spot for me, yeah?” He hissed and thrust the knife into Daniel’s stomach. Dark maroon spread over the man’s white shirt, eliciting a scream from the man with every stab.

           After a frenzied vortex of time as Alfie blacked out from rage, the blade broke off in the man’s torso. So he let Daniel fall to the ground. He took out his gun, cocked it, and shot the man between the eyes.

           The gunshot echoed through the empty warehouse. Then a quiet settled as if nothing had happened. The night continued on.

           Alfie pocketed his gun and dropped the broken blade handle. Blood spattered over his shirt and soaked his arms. Painted with the aftermath of his crime. He sliced himself a bit in the fevered attack but didn’t feel the pain. Adrenaline coursed through his veins and took care of numbing his nerves.

           “Right, fucking get it outta here.” He huffed and shook blood off his hands, drops flying against nearby barrels. “Don’t care where you dump it. Then come back and clean up.” He waved the boys off and returned to his office to cleanse himself of sin.

~~~~~~~~~~~

           The next morning, Louise was unaware of her husband’s death. She walked into the bakery and found one of the men mopping up a dark, sticky puddle. Confused, she went to Alfie’s office.

           “Come in,” Alfie called after she knocked.

           Louise slipped off her coat and hung it up beside his overcoat on the hook. “What spilled outside?” She asked.

           “Just some resin, nothing too bad.” He lied through his teeth and continued reading. He should've known she'd pick up on the little things. Minor details like that didn't go over her head, she was as sharp as a whip.

           “Oh…” She sat down and took out her diary. His hands appeared in her line of vision and startled her. “What about your hands?”

           Fresh bandages covered the cuts on Alfie’s hands. “Splinters.” He muttered.

           The answer wasn’t convincing but she didn’t want to pry. That wasn’t her job. “Okay, well-” The telephone interrupted her.

           Alfie grumbled incoherently under his breath and picked up the receiver. “’Ello?”

           “What did I fucking tell you?”

           The voice on the other line was unmistakable. And it was far too early in the morning to listen to Tommy Shelby chewing him out. “Tommy, so good to hear from ya, mate, anything I can do for you?”

           “I said I’d give you his name if you didn’t kill him. Now you’re getting sloppy, couldn’t even get the body to the river to dump it?” The Blinder demanded. “Your boys dumped him on the side of the road!”

           “No fucking idea what you’re going on about.” Alfie’s eyes flicked up to see Louise patiently waiting across the desk. She had no idea.

           “Really? Right, well now you’ve got to tell his widow what happened. And you better tell her the truth, Alfie, of I will.”

           “You fucking what?” His fist fell onto the desk making his secretary flinch. He gritted his teeth and restrained himself as best he could for her sake. “You trying to back me into a corner, Tommy boy?”

           “She paid us for protection, she didn’t say anything about murdering him.” He retorted, not intimidated by his fierce opposition.

           “Had it fucking coming, didn’t he?” Alfie demanded. “Yeah? Don’t think he’s some saint, do ya?”

           “Right, I can understand, really, I can. But you need to tell her. You can’t cover this up or the police will start asking her questions. You want to save her the trouble of being a suspect?”

           The gangster looked at Louise. She appeared puzzled but not uncomfortable. “Fine.” He forcefully returned the receiver to the hook.

           “Everything alright?” She had a sinking feeling in her gut that the call from Mr. Shelby had something to do with her.

           Alfie sighed and interlocked his fingers on the desk. “Your husband was found dead.”

           Her eyes widened and a hand flew to her mouth. “What?” Her whisper muffled against her palm. “W-when? How?”

           “I uh…” He cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair. There wasn’t any telling what kind of reaction she would have. But he didn’t expect her to see how distraught she was. “He…”

           Louise hadn’t seen him so lost for words. The uneasiness on his face was unmistakable. Her jaw dropped in disbelief. The realization and horror spreading over her face. “You didn’t.”

           He swallowed and his eyes flicked down to betray his stoic expression. “Louise-”

           “Alfie, please tell me you didn’t. Tell me it was someone else.” She begged. The last thing she wanted was for her view of the man to be too utterly distorted to fix it.

           He shook his head. “I only meant to rough him up a bit.” He muttered. When had he ever felt shame for committing murder? Maybe his first time but it wore off soon after. He thought he was doing something chivalrous for her. But she was cut from a different cloth.

           “I told you.” Her voice shook violently as she glared at him, hints of fear behind her eyes. “I told you to leave it, didn’t I?”

           “Yes-”

           “I told you to leave in the past. You went behind my back. I didn’t ask you to do this, I didn’t want him dead!” She cried, her voice rising.

           Alfie dragged a hand over his face. “I was planning on just breaking his fucking nose-”

           “But I didn’t ask you to do even that! How did you even learn who he was?” She demanded.

           “If ya just let me finish me fucking sentence, I’ll fucking explain!” He couldn’t help but feed off her angry energy. His temper was always starving for a reason to go off. Even if it was Louise.

           “Don’t you dare,” She stood up and leaned over his desk, pressing her palms into the wood. “Don’t you fucking dare yell at me! Not after what you did!”

           He pressed back in his leather desk chair. It was the first time he’d ever heard her swear. It affected him more than he realized it possibly could. He clenched his jaw and composed himself. “I’m not trying to yell at you. But I have a reason for what I did.”

           “I can’t imagine you have a good enough reason when I explicitly told you not to get into it.” She spat. Her entire body appeared to tremble with anger.

           “He fucking wouldn’t shut his fucking mouth!” Alfie matched her volume and heaved himself up out of his chair.

           “And you’re so good at that?” She retorted. “You can’t do whatever you want, you don’t make up the rules. The world doesn’t bow down to Alfie Solomons!” She shouted.

           “He called you a whore!” He slammed his fist down on the desk making it quiver. “I ain’t fucking apologizing for giving him exactly what he deserved!”

           Louise flinched but didn’t back away from him. “I can’t believe you. I thought you were different, but people were right about. You’re heartless.” Tears formed in her eyes.

           Alfie tensed up and his heart froze over. He wanted to inform her that he cared so deeply about her and would do anything for her because he knew she deserved it.

           “I can’t even look at you.” She turned and roughly wiped her tears away with the sleeves of her blouse.

           “Louise!” He called after her but didn’t follow after she slammed the door to his office shut. “Fuck.” He mumbled and collapsed back into his chair.

           Cyril whimpered softly from his bed. The dog’s sagging cheeks resting on his front paws, his sad eyes looking up at his master.

           Alfie put his head in his hands, tugging at his hair out of frustration. “She’ll be the death of me.” He grumbled to his dog. “Mark me words.”

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

           Louise showed up at work the next day. Her face was plastered over, stuck in a stony expression. She wore a black dress as if to drive the blade further into Alfie’s chest. She didn’t ignore him; everything had to do with business though. Her voice was dull and emotionless. She wouldn’t show him any weakness.

           It crushed Alfie far more than he expected. Once the day finished, he was worn out even though he hadn’t gotten much work done. He was too preoccupied with Louise’s behavior. He wondered if he could ever make it up to her or ever have her the way he wished he could. Smiling and happy on his arm. Making him seem like a better man than he really was. Heartless. She couldn’t love a man who was heartless.

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

           “Hello?”

           “Tommy, it’s Alfie.” The gangster boss muttered. It was about eight at night and had begun to rain. Alfie didn’t want to return home, he was afraid that without any distractions he would drive himself mad.

           “Something you need?” The Shelby asked curiously.

           “I want you to come pick up the money you gave me, the half of Louise’s inheritance.”

           Tommy went quiet. He knew it had to have something with Alfie murdering Daniel. “You should give it to her if you really don’t want it, eh?”

           “Doubt she’d take it from me. Fucking hates me guts now, don’t she?” Alfie’s hand tightened around the receiver of the phone.

           “Just add it to her paycheck then.” He suggested. “I don’t want to take it.” The man didn’t think it was right to take more money from the woman.

           Alfie grunted. “I fucked up, Tom.” His voice lost some of its usual sternness.

           “I know.” He wasn’t going to sugar coat it. “Can’t take it back now though.”

           “She’ll hate me. Thinks I’m this soulless thing. Fucking evil of the Earth, exactly what everyone else thinks.” It was a rare thing for Alfie to let his outer shell crack. But he knew Tommy had been in love and could sympathize even a little bit.

           “You could try to right it. Can’t buy yourself out of it though like everything else,” He warned. “Woman can see right through that, especially women like her.”

           Alfie rested his elbow on his desk, putting his head in his hand. “She’s got my bollocks in a vice, she does. Haven’t even told her what I feel for her but she’s fucking got me wrapped ‘round her pinky like I was nothing but a toy.”

           Tommy was a little surprised he was being so honest. It showed the most humanity he’d ever seen in Alfie and it made him downright uncomfortable. “Well, you can figure it out, right? You know her better than me.”

           “Don’t know.” Alfie lifted his head and scratched the nape of his neck. “Still…you won’t take the money?”

           “No. You’ll find something to do with it if she doesn’t accept it.”

           “Don’t want the fucking money.”

           He wanted her.

~~~~~~~~~~

           That same night, rain spattered against the windowpane. Alfie had finally gone home. He sat in the parlor, trying to read. But he’d been stuck on the same paragraph for a while. His brain couldn’t absorb the information so he kept rereading.

           A banging on the door interrupted the struggle of his thoughts. Alfie set his book aside and heard Evelyn trotting down the stairs.

           “S’alright, Evelyn, I’ve got it.” He didn’t want the girl opening the door so late at night. He walked to the door and opened it.

           Louise was standing on the front step, looking like a wet cat. The rain had soaked right through her dress, her curls limp and sticking to her face. It was impossible to distinguish the raindrops from the tears on her cheeks.

           Her lower lip quivered. “Can I come in?”

           Alfie nodded. “’Course.” He said quietly and let her in. “Why’re you out there without a fucking coat?” He asked.

           She shook her head but didn’t answer.

           “Evelyn, get some towels, yeah?” He called up to the girl.

           “Yes, Mr. Solomons!” She replied.

           He led Louise to the parlor where flames blazed in the fireplace. He let her warm up a bit while Evelyn came downstairs with a heap of fluffy towels.

           “Miss Barnes, you look freezing!” She gasped and quickly helped the woman wrap up in the towels.

           “Thank you, Evelyn.” She said, her voice cracking.

           “That’s all, Lyn,” Alfie said steadily.

           The girl looked worried, not sure why Louise was there in such a state but left the parlor on his orders.

           Louise stood stock still near the fire aside from brief shivers wracking her body.

           Alfie backed up and sat down on one of the couches. He wasn’t sure what to say to her after their argument and subsequent coldness between them that day. He leaned forward, his hands clasped between his wide spread knees.

           She used one of the towels to do her best to dry her hair. “I’m sorry, I’m intruding so late.” Her voice finally came out in an ashamed tremble. The fire lit up her hazel eyes, glowing flecks of amber hidden in the irises.

           “S’not a problem.” He mumbled. “There a reason you’re here?” He didn’t want to sound cold, but he wanted to get down to the bottom of it. He wasn’t exactly in the mood to argue with her again. It hurt too much last time despite fully engaging in it without hesitation.

           She sucked in her lower lip, tugging on it between her teeth. “I have to apologize for how I treated you today and yesterday.” Her eyes were on his, holding sincerity.

           “You don’t need to apologize, yeah? Your emotions are your emotions, can’t change that.”

           “The truth is I’m not really angry with you. I don’t know what I’m really angry at.” She lowered the towel and folded it over her arm. Her chilled body slowly warming up beside the fire. “You don’t know what I went through with Daniel.”

           “You could tell me, yeah, if that would help.” He offered. “I’m all ears. I’m not angry and I’m sorry ‘bout all that yesterday. Weren’t fair for me to yell at you after what I did.”

           “No, I know.” She hugged herself close, keeping the soft towel around her shoulders. “I uh…I guess I should start from the beginning.” She swallowed the lump in her throat.

           Alfie patted the couch beside him so she would sit down.

           “I’m still damp.”

           “Don’t matter, it’ll dry, s’just water.”

           She nodded and walked over to sit on the couch. She kept her distance though, afraid he was still upset with her despite what he’d said. “My parents wanted me to marry this man that we’d known for a while, a family friend’s son. He was wealthy, Oxford graduate, with very good manners. But when I was with him...I felt like I was nothing but a little toy to tote around the events. He’d show me off and then act like I was just emotionless or nothing but a shell of a person.”

           Alfie furrowed his eyebrows and let out a grunt with a frown. He could get that impression from a lot of wealthy men.

           “I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life with him, and if I married him that’s what I would have to put up with. My parents would look down on me if I tried for a divorce.” She reached up to brush her damp hair away from her face. Then she used the towel around her shoulders to try to dry her curls again. “I met Daniel, he was a driver for another family we knew. He swept me off my feet and I felt so excited knowing that there was something else to life. He’d take me out dancing and drinking. I felt like I was free. My parents hated him but I didn’t care. I eloped with him after six months. It was all right for a bit. He could never hold a job so I had to work too. I sold some jewelry, anything to keep us afloat. We had to move to Birmingham. But I was too stupid to see how things were changing. I thought he was just a down on his luck boy that would turn into my prince in shining armor. My parents would see that he was perfect for me.” She laughed bitterly. “I was such a daft teenager.”

           Alfie pursed his lips. He wanted to tell her that it wasn’t her fault and that most teenagers were daft. He certainly wasn’t a wise and orderly chap. He could imagine her parents would disapprove of him as well. The teenager with an unstable temper, a penchant for stealing, and the gift of riling up police officers.

           “I guess a year or so into the marriage I couldn’t ignore everything. He rarely kept a job longer than a week. He’d take my earnings and go off.” She waved a hand in the air disgust pricking at her eyes. “Gambling, drinking, having an affair, I never knew. Kept me away from the people I loved most. Often told me that no one would care for me the way he did.”

           Cyril padded into the room after pestering Evelyn for a treat. He went over to Louise, resting his droopy face on her knees. She smiled faintly at him and began stroking his ears. The motion kept her grounded as she recounted her history.

           “After a while, he started asking why I wasn’t getting pregnant. He wouldn’t let it go and blamed me. He just kept going on about how I was damaged and worthless.” Louise’s voice caught her throat. Her late husband’s voice echoed in her mind, ranting and raving about how she wasn’t a woman if she couldn’t get pregnant. “Said I was only good for fucking.” A tear escaped down her cheek.

           Alfie’s jaw clenched as he took out a handkerchief and offered it to her. Part of him was beside himself that a woman would be told such things. The other half of him wished he had the ability to raise people from the dead so he could kill Daniel again and again.

           Since he didn’t say anything, Louise continued, unaware of his seething beneath the surface. “I got so sick of it. One day, I challenged him. I said maybe he was the infertile one, not me.” A cloud covered her face as the vivid memory resurfaced. Standing in the dark kitchen, Daniel stinking of gin, look of rage burning his face red as the fateful words left her mouth. “That’s when he first hit me.” Her eyes focused on Cyril to keep her composure. The memory kept playing because she knew Daniel didn’t just hit her. She remembered the brutal force against her cheek as he grabbed her by the back of the neck and slammed her down into the kitchen table.

           Her breathing became shallower as she scratched behind Cyril’s ears. The bullmastiff could sense something was troubling her so he leaned his body weight against her legs. The pressure was comforting and allowed Louise to pull herself out of her own memories and return to the present.

           Alfie stood stock still beside her. Everything twisted around in his stomach; his heart lunging against his ribs, Louise’s past haunted him. If only he’d known. If only he’d been there. He would put an end to it immediately so she would never see abuse. So she wouldn’t have to wake up every morning with the scars etched into her bones. He knew what it was like to open his eyes and all the traumatic memories flooding through like sunlight. Every time he wished he could wake up without remembering. It was torture enough to have gone through it. But the lingering effects were salt in the wound.

           “I kept threatening to leave but I never did.” Louise began talking again once she composed herself enough. “I was scared he would kill me. There wasn’t any way I could back to my parents either. I know they loved me so much but I defied them every step of the way and ruined my life. I never got the chance to amend. They were killed in an accident.”

           She revealed what she’d kept from him on a professional standing. And Alfie wasn’t sure how Louise had managed to be there, sitting next to him. It was as if life kept hurling rocks at her but she continued to get up every time. “Lou…”

           “Alfie, I won’t thank you for what you did.” She looked up from Cyril, her hazel eyes still blazing in the firelight. “But, I can’t judge you for it. I can forgive you.”

           “Dunno if you should.” He muttered back and reached back to run his fingers through the back of his hair. “I didn’t fucking listen to you like I should’ve…”

           “I thought about killing him.” Her voice came out in a choked gasp as if someone had been choking her but finally let her breathe again. It was something she’d kept to herself. No one around her could understand. But if anyone could it would be the man who had killed Daniel.

           Alfie blinked and almost asked if he’d heard her right. But there was no mistaking the words.

           Her eyes were hard as she nodded shakily, sensing his disbelief. “And not just like… ‘Oh, I wish he’d disappear’. No, I uh…I thought about taking a pillow and just-” She pressed her hands down on her thighs to mimic smothering someone. “But I wasn’t strong enough. So I looked for other ways out.” She looked down again in shame. She was delving into her darkest thoughts, shining a light on them. Everything looked so ugly when illuminated.

           The man beside her could think of many ways to dispatch of Daniel but he didn’t want to make her feel worse. Women like her didn’t need to hear the details of how he got rid of problems.

           “If I tried to kill him…he’d kill me. If I succeeded in killing him, I’d probably be hanged. So…” She twisted her fingers together, stray raindrops slipping between her palms. “I figured the easiest way would be to end my own life.” Louise couldn’t help but let out a small sob. She couldn’t contain it. The act of speaking those words was too painful but she felt a burdened eased off her.

           “Lou...” Alfie shifted a bit closer to her. He wasn’t the best at comforting people. Usually, he was the reason people needed comforting.

           “I know it sounds so silly. There are people who have it far worse than I-”

           “Louise.” He interrupted her sternly. “That’s ‘nough of that. Fuck the world, yeah, you have the right to feel how you like. World’s not a contest of who has it fucking worse.” He clasped his hands together. “You’re the one who went through it, not anyone else.”

           She sniffled and looked up at him. Her lashes were glossed over with tears. The very vision a painter conjured when depicting the grief of a woman. The weight of the world pressing down on her and continuing to cut pieces away from her. God always took from the ones with the best intentions. Alfie felt like he deserved his misfortunes. He personally carved out the hollowness inside him. Every action he took justified another stab to the gut. But Louise was like him. She didn’t choose to do what he did. She never fought back like him. She complacently took the pain, only dreaming of a way of out it. Alfie indulged in the sin and misery. For a brief moment, he felt full. Having a man’s life in his hand, soaking in the fear of others, adorned in jewels, and passing along high amounts of money. But it never lasted.

           Louise lasted.

           “You’re safe now, yeah, won’t let anyone hurt you. But if you ever feel like that again, you tell me, yeah?” He wouldn’t take suicide lightly. He’d seen men in the war ready to end the suffering. Some men who made it home were unable to cope. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if Louise made that decision. “You don’t have to tell me. You could tell Evelyn, Ollie, fucking call up Tommy Shelby if ya need to. But promise me,” He held her gaze to ensure she knew how serious he was. “Promise you won’t keep it to yourself. Because you don’t need to.”

           Louise wiped at her eyes and nodded. “I will.” She whispered weakly.

           Alfie nodded. “Right, good. Need you around.”

           She cocked an eyebrow at him. The wording had come out a little desperately, much more than he intended.

           “Mean, who else could be my secretary?” He hurried to cover up any hints of affection towards her. The last thing he wanted was to make her uncomfortable. She didn’t want him. “I mean, fucking hell, I can actually read your writing. Ollie’s was just chicken scratch, wasn’t it?”

           It drew a smile from Louise. A sunbeam breaking through the clouds. “I’m sure it’s just fine. You’re too hard on him.”

           “Nah, you’ve got great penmanship. Lovely, innit? Like art it is.” He praised her to bring out her smile even more.

           “Who thought penmanship would be so coveted in a gangster’s world?” She sighed and shook her head. It was something she had to come to terms with. Alfie Solomons was a gangster. She worked for a gangster. “I mean I don’t know my way around a gun to save my life.”

           He chuckled. “Business ain’t all blood. Keeping books, now that’s crucial. ‘Sides, I could teach you how to shoot.” He offered. “To protect yourself.”

           Louise made a face. “I will respectfully decline.” She reached down. “I have this for protection.”

           Alfie was startled as she hiked her skirt up to her knee. If that wasn’t surprising enough, she unsheathed a knife from a thigh holster.

           “Fucking hell, do you always have that?” His eyes were wide and she allowed him to examine the knife.

           “After I left the hospital I started carrying it.” She admitted sheepishly. Every time she put on the holster she felt unlike herself. She wasn’t shielded in the bubble of her upbringing anymore though.

           “’S’good, keep it.” He gave it back to her, taking care of the sharp blade. “No one in Camden will touch you though.”

           She bent down to return the knife to its holster. “What do you mean?”

           “You’re under my protection.” He straightened up and rolled up the sleeves of his loose fitting shirt. “Anyone who knows what’s good for them will steer clear.”

           Something pinched in Louise’s stomach. He was threatening the entire Camden Town area. Letting out the news that anyone who harmed her would end up like her late husband. It was startling and comforting. Something strange to behold. She bit the tip of her tongue but couldn’t stop herself. “That’s why you left him on the street? To send a message?” Her voice warped around the unfamiliar phrase.

           He grunted and tugged at his beard. “What I do, all my misdeeds, yeah, you don’t have to hear. I won’t involve you in nothing, never intended to. But you want me to be honest, then I will.”

           Louise smoothed her damp skirt down and crossed her ankles. “I want you to be honest.”

           He nodded slowly, almost in a dazed state. He stared ahead at the fire that was starting to lose its power. “Your husband was the last man to lay his hands on you.” His voice was full of conviction. Anyone who tried to defy that would meet a gruesome fate. But Louise didn’t need to know the details. “Anyone who lays a hand on you in Birmingham will have the Peaky Blinders on them. And I’ll fucking admit I wouldn’t want those fucking animals after me. Had that happen before and can’t have that happening again. Nicer when we have an understanding.”

           Louise didn’t want to linger on the fate of foolish men. “So…how many other…families are around?” She had no idea about underground criminal syndicates. She wasn’t even sure her parents knew.

           “Depends on where you are. You got the Italians, Sabini. Got a few more in Camden, allies with them though. They know I run the Town.” He said a bit cockily. “Fuck there’s a gang of all women and I swear they’ve got she-devils in them. Wouldn’t cross them.”

           It was funny to hear the brutal man talk about people he personally wouldn’t cross. “I thought you were the tough one around here.” She tilted her head to the side. She couldn’t imagine there was someone as ruthless as Alfie.

           “Well, don’t think they’d cross me without good reason.” He rested an arm across the back of the couch and kicked his feet up on the coffee table. “It’s about balance, can’t have one bloke have all the power. You can’t go ‘round killing everyone or you’ll have their mates coming after you. Everything’s calculated. It’s not a manner of who’s deadlier, it’s ‘bout who’s smarter, cunning, yeah?”

           The woman was starting to become a little nauseous at the idea. They were all walking a razor-thin rope. One misstep could kill them. She swallowed and gathered herself. “Well, it’s late. I ought to get home.” Her voice rambled out hurriedly.

           “You could stay the night. It don’t matter.” He offered and stood up.

           “No, I’ve pestered you long enough.” She said and cleared her throat.

           The rain was still pelting like bullets against the windows. It was pitch black and hard to see past a foot ahead.

           “Shouldn’t walk home in this.” Alfie shook his head. “Just stay the night, I’ll drive you in the morning if it’s still pouring.”

           “No, Alfie, thank you.” She patted Cyril’s head and went for the door. The cold rain wasn’t pleasant but she still needed to process a few things about it all.

           “Louise, just the night. S’fucking awful out there, don’t want ya to catch your death.” His blue eyes pled quietly.

           She sighed and nodded. “Okay, just tonight.”

           “Evelyn?” Alfie called up to the girl again. “Would you make up the spare room for Miss Barnes?”

           “Of course, Mr. Solomons, Louise, can I draw you a bath?” The girl appeared at the staircase landing.

           “No, thank you, Evelyn.” She smiled. When the girl disappeared, Louise turned to him. “Thank you for speaking with me.” She said quietly. “But, Alfie, I just want you to know that this won’t be easy for me. I will still work for you but you can imagine my…apprehension.” She didn’t want to mention her husband. She’d given him more than enough grief for that and felt like she didn’t have a leg to stand on when she realized how little she mourned the loss. But she wouldn’t become like Alfie. “I just…I wanted to apologize for yesterday and what I said. You’re not heartless. A heartless man wouldn’t let me in and listen.”

           He gazed at her, feeling more than conflicted. While he knew he could have compassion, he wasn’t sure if she still wasn’t seeing him in the correct light.

           “I think I know you wouldn’t hurt me.” Her lips pursed and she tugged at her dress sleeve. “You promised to protect me. But my trust is very small for anyone these days. I’m sure you could understand that.”

           He nodded stiffly. “Very well…I know that very well.” She was to be trusted though, even if it was blind trust. Blindly trusting her because she was something so treasured in his eyes. The key to a damaged and hellish man’s heart. Foolish.

           “Well, goodnight then.” She said and touched his arm, her fingertips grazing over the white sleeve.

           Alfie stood at the base of the staircase, watching her ascend. He put his hands in his pockets as if to hide the residual blood on his hands. All the blood from every man he’d finished off. Every heart he stopped from beating. Every last breath he’d snatched out of the air. Something Louise would never understand and never see as virtuous.

           He could never be virtuous for her. But he longed to have her anyway.

Masterpost

PB Masterlist

[lazella]

I like your Avengers AU so much! I read them repeteadly.. Can I request something? About how each Yu-boys use their respective stone. I want to know how far they can use the power. I hope you don't mind.. Thank you..

Oh you want powers? YOU GOT THE POWER!!!! Oh man this was fun to write and I really tried to think of creative ways the boys would use the Stones. And there were some fun things I was able to work in. Plus I’m starting to work in the Avenger’s rouges gallery so watch out!!!!

Using Powers Responsibly…..Maybe

Out of all the boys, Yugi was the one having the toughesttime figuring out the Soul Stone’s powers. The other Avengers admittedthemselves that they didn’t know a lot about that stone or what it could do. Itwas just sort of there and not there as the same time, evident how it seemed tobe in Yugi’s Soul Room and in his physical hand at the same time. When askinghow they first found the stone, all the Avengers quickly became mum on thetopic. Thor did admit that he knew that the Soul Stone could control others butmuch to the god’s relief, Yugi had no interest in testing that power out. Theimplications were bad enough to trigger flashbacks of seeing Jounochi beingcontrolled by the Millennium Rod.

Most of Yugi’s training sessions were just trying to figureout just HOW Yugi could use the stone in combat that did not involvecontrolling someone or taking their soul. It wasn’t going very well in allhonesty. But that all changed when he accidently bumped into Judai in thehallway and the stone flared up.

An odd but familiar sensation washed over Yugi as he foundhimself in a room covered in posters of superhero characters and duelingchampionships with two doors in the back wall. One was pitch black with a goldinsignia on it with the other look old and rusted but appeared to have somerepair work on it. Yugi wanted to get a closer look but something flung himbackwards and he found himself back in the hallway looking a dazed Judai andYami yelling in panic in his head.

I’m fine other me!

You just…disappeared. It was just for a second but youwere just…gone.

I think…Yugi looked over at the still dazed Judai…Iwas in his Soul Room.

His Soul Room? How?

Yugi looked down at the Soul Stone, I think I have anidea.

Yugi first had to explain what Soul Rooms were to Tonybefore they started testing the theory out. Once Dr. Strange was called toobserve this they got started. First Dr. Strange had Yugi enter his own SoulRoom curious about the concept. Yugi had witness lots of medical charts, books,and maps inside. Then they tried it on Tony. Inside were many Iron Man suits,schematics, and old family photos.

“That felt weird…” Tony muttered as Yugi returned toreality.

“And you’ve said you’ve had experiences like this before?”Dr. Strange asked.

“Well more on the receiving end,” Yugi explained, “There’sanother Millennium Item like my Puzzle that has the ability to enter SoulRooms.”

“Could it do anything else?

“Well…” Yugi scratch his cheek feeling unsure about the nextpart, “You could use it to rearrange a Soul Room so that the person is now apuppet.”

Silence hung over the room.

“Can we not do that? Ever?” Tony asked.

“I wasn’t planning too.” Yugi reassured the two men, “Perhapswe can use this as a therapy tool? You have been complaining a lot that we needbetter therapy Tony-san.”

“So diving into heads and figuring out what our inner demonsare…” Tony muttered, “I can live with that.”

……………………………….

It was times like these that made question Judai questionwhy Shou loved robots so much. They were really annoying to fight. They came inhordes, did not tire, and were really hard to break. He was runninginterference with Clint to clear out security robots at some sort of secretfacility, not sure what kind because Judai may have napped during the briefing.But the fight was getting annoying.

“Hey Judai?! How about just punching them?!” Clint calledout.

“They are too strong to punch through!” Judai yelled back.

Clint looked like he wanted to face palm, “You have thePower Stone! Use it!”

“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…….”

“You forgot didn’t you…”

“Did not!”

Judai you totally forgot.

“Don’t you start Yubel!!!!”

Just use the stone already…

“Fine…” Judai tossed the stone in his hand a few timesbefore clenching it tightly activating its power. A purple aura surrounded hisbody as Judai felt his muscles tighten with power.

“Take this!!!” Judai threw a punch, ripping a robot’s headclean off. It felt weirdly satisfying for some reason. Now he just had to do ita few hundred more times.

Or you can get a little creative and deal with all ofthem at once. Yubel pointed out.

Or he could do that. Could be make a fireball with thisthing? Or summon one of his Elemental Heroes who could make a fireball andreally soup it up. Probably the later. One quick summon of Flame Wingman laterand Judai has having fun turning robots into melted piles of goo.

“Judai…while I like the idea melting the robots we now havethe problem of molten steel all over the floor….” Clint looked to the floorrather unamused.

“We can just walk over it.”

“No we cannot…”

“I’ve done it before.” Judai said with a shrug.

“And I am just becoming more and more convinced that you arenot a normal human…” Clint massaged his temples. “Can you just punch the walland give us a shortcut already?”

“Okie dokie!” With too much enthusiasm for Clint’s taste,Judai kicked the nearby wall down then continued in a leisurely stroll kicking moreand more walls down. Eventually Judai’s voice echoed down the broken hallways.

“Oh hey there! Whatcha doing?”

Then there was screaming.

Clint sighed, next time he was requesting to take Yusei withhim.

…………………………………………….

Yusei was fiddling with some wiring when he heard Tony letout a very colorful string of swears and curses. Removing the screwdriver fromhis mouth, he asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Some former disgruntled employees of mine have set up anunground weapon smuggling and production ring.” Tony looked torn betweenbreaking something now or later, “I need to go deal with it.”

“Would you like help?”

Tony turned in surprise at Yusei.

“You might need someone else who understands circuitry androbotics. And I’ve memorized all your schematics.”

Tony thought for a moment, clearly debating something,before hitting a button on a remote reveal several Ironman style suits indifferent colors, “What color scheme do you want?”

“Pardon?”

“I am not letting you tag along with no protection so whichcolor do you want? They’re older suits but they’ll still work.”

“Oh um….” Yusei took a look over the choices, “The blue andblack one?”

“Thought you would go for red and white like your bike butoh well…” Tony shrugged, “Let me give you a rundown and we’ll fly over there.”

It turned out that when Tony said fly there, he didn’t meanfly in the Quin Jet, he meant fly in the suits. The experience wasexhilarating! Yusei felt lighter than air as they soared through the sky. Thiswas nothing like when he dueled Z-One, this felt like complete freedom.

Enjoying yourself? Tony asked over the com-link.

I can’t describe this Mr. Stark…Yusei responded.

Looks like I’ll put the flight system in your officialsuit.

Excuse me?

I’m designing suits for all of you kids. Customized of coursebased on your skills and can handle the power of the Infinity Stones. Tonyexplained, Yours is not ready yet so that’s why I had to pull out some of myolder suits.

Yusei felt overwhelmed with gratitude, Thank you.

Anytime kid, ready to get this party started? Tonyasked, We’re going to stick to non-lethal weapons since I want to turn theseguys over to the authorities. JARVIS should be able to help you with the weaponand aiming systems.

Roger…Yusei nodded as they aimed to land. He couldsee the shabby warehouses and men going in an out with large crates. He wouldbe lying if he said he wasn’t afraid, but he took comfort that Tony had hisback.

They landed in the middle of the operation rather dramaticallythough Tony was a bit more graceful than Yusei but still looked ratherintimidating. The men began yelling in panic and started firing rifles at them.Yusei felt his heart leap to his throat but then relaxed when he rememberedthat the suit was protecting him from bullets. Both Tony and Yusei raised theirarms and shout out concussive blasts knocking most of the arms dealers down. Theones that avoided the blast ran back into the warehouse assumingly to grab betterweapons.

Take care of the ones out here! Tony yelled over thelink, I’ll take care of the ones that ran in.

Roger! Yusei had the suit make a shield to betterprotect himself from the next round of bullets then used it to knock away a dealerthat got too close. Then he had to use the suit’s flight system to get awayfrom the guy who had a bright idea to through a grenade at him.

Yusei tried to calm his breathing. Things were happening reallyfast and lucky for him, he had something that could help in that department.

The Time Stone flashed green as Yusei willed it to slow downtime. Now that Yusei had more time to react he could better handle thesituation. Scanning the battlefield he spotted two men hiding behind crates preparingto take aim at him. Another three were running to a truck, most likely to grabmore guns. He fired a quick shot at the creates knocking the men back and destroyingtheir cover then another one at the truck to destroy the weapon supply inside.When things settled, Yusei had time resume at its normal pace. The arms dealerswere groaning on the ground but going nowhere anytime soon. But he hadn’t heardfrom Tony since he entered the warehouse. Having a gut feeling, Yusei shot intothe building.

The place was a mess. Remnants of explosions and torn metaltwisted every which way. Tony was hovering mid air fired down on the men whowere firing weapons that Yusei did not recognize. Tony looked like he had ahandle on the situation, until Yusei noticed some men were trying to aim arocket launcher at Tony’s back.

Yusei was having none of that. He froze time to astandstill. Calming walking over to the rocket launcher, he disarmed the ammothen dismantled the launcher piece by piece laying them out around the men.Then he stood in front of them as menacingly as he could before he resumedtime.

The two men needed a new pair of pants.

Tony was laughing over the commlink, That was brilliant! Youshould of taken their clothes while you were at it.

That would be excessive. Yusei replied back.

Tony landed and retracted his helm as did Yusei, “We justneed to round up the unconscious ones and we should be good to go. How’d you likedthe suit?”

“The flying part was amazing though I would admit the suit doesfeel a bit bulky.”

“A lot of my older suits were like that. I’m working onmaking them slimmer so that they feel more comfortable and easier to movearound in.” Tony said.

“And still have room for a weapon and a flight system?”Yusei asked

Tony grinned, “It’s about time I introduced you to nanite technology.”

……………………………..

Yuma huddled under his cover. He had heard Tony and theothers talk how dangerous Ultron was in the past but now actually dealing with thecrazy robot, Yuma believed every word. The killer robot had chosen to attackthe tower catching everyone of guard meaning Yuma had no idea where anyone was.He thought he heard Natasha’s voice nearby but then there were sounds of lasers,so he guessed she wasn’t there anymore.

“Calm down Yuma…we can get out of this.” Astral reassured him.

“I’m scared….” Yuma admitted, “This is nothing like dueling.”

“In some ways it is…” Astral gripped his shoulder, “Rememberthe three steps I taught you?”

“Find out what your opponent is doing, stop him from doingit…then win?” Yuma recited from memory.

“Exactly…now what is Ultron doing?”

“He’s trying to get the Avengers.”

“So how do we stop him?”

“Well…” Yuma bit his lip, “Getting him out of the tower forone thing.”

“It’s a good thing we have something to help.” Astralpointed to the Space Stone.

Yuma swallowed the lump in his throat, “So where do we sendhim?”

“Do you remember that video game you were playing with Yuyathe other day?” Astral asked.

“The one with the portals? Yuma clarified.

“And that thing you two were doing that entertained you fora good half hour?”

A realization hit Yuma, “Oh yeah…That could work.”

“Now we just need to enact our plan.” Yuma could of swornthat Astral had a smirk on his face, “Think you can use the stone to warparound the tower to avoid the firefight?”

Yuma peered over the couch he was hiding behind, “I think so…Ithink the fight was towards the labs.”

“Warp to the closest training room first. We need to surveythe situation before going in.” Astral said.

Yuma nodded and warped the two of them to the training room.It looked trashed, most likely the fight already went through here. There wasshouting coming from down the hall and explosions, so it didn’t take much detectivework for Yuma to figure out where the action was happening. Looking around thecorner, he saw Hulk get thrown into the wall. Then Ultron himself stepped outaiming his arm ready with a missile at the fallen green titan.

Acting fast, Yuma made two portals. One in front of Ultronand one behind him causing him to be hit by his own attack. Ultron growled inpain and spotted Yuma. Whether or not if he realized that Yuma caused theportals, Ultron started charging full speed at Yuma. Thankfully with the plan alreadyin mind, Yuma made his portals.

When Tony stumbled out of the remains of the lab, he was metwith the rather amusing sight of Ultron freefalling between two portals, one inthe ceiling and on in the floor. Yuma stood nearby thankfully with no injuriesgiving the man a thumbs up.

Tony returned it.

……………………………………………..

Yuya wondered if this was considered normal for Clint andNatasha. He tagged along with them for a scouting mission about a mafia family stirringup trouble. Well one thing led to another because it turned out this mafiafamily was lead by this crazy guy calling himself Count Neferia (a reallystupid name according to Yuri) who quickly noticed them a fight broke out. AndCount Neferia had a really broken set of powers. It’s like he was pulling themout of hat whenever he wanted too. If they had Thor with them this wouldn’t be aproblem but Clint and Natasha had no powers to speak off and Yuya was just a fourteenyear old kid with a super powered rock in his pocket.

“What’s wrong little maggots? Afraid of me?” Count Neferialaughed as he ran circles around the trio.

“I am really hating this guy…” Clint muttered.

“And we can’t put a scratch on him….” Natasha glanced toYuya, “And we need to get Yuya out of here.”

“Oh is mommy and daddy worried about the kid? I can fixthat!” Count Neferia rushed by grabbing Yuya by the throat pinning him against thewall. “Kids are so easy to kill…”

Clint and Natasha shot nearly all of their ammo into CountNeferia’s back, but the crazy man just tanked it. Whether or not it was due tothe crazy costume Yuya didn’t care, he just needed to get him off.

Make the walls turn into spikes and stab him! Yuriproposed

Bullets and arrows aren’t doing anything so why do youthink spikes will do the trick? Yuto countered.

You know that we can’t do anything if Yuya passes outright? Yugo tried to bring the immediate danger back to attention.

And none of you are helping…Yuya grunted trying toget the hands off of his throat. “H-Hey….y-you want a show?”

“A show?” Neferia’s grip slacked a bit, “What do you mean ashow?”

“A show you won’t forget…” Yuya smirked. Then a trumpetemerged from the wall and blared in Neferia’s face. The crime boss dropped Yuyain shock at the sheer absurdity.

“How did you do that boy?!” Neferia recomposed himself andswiped at Yuya again.

“Magician’s secret!” Yuya teased while making sure that thered glow of the Reality Stone was hidden, “And for my next trick…” He snappedhis fingers and Neferia’s suit turned pink. Clint and Natasha nearly doubledover laughing.

Neferia was having none of this nonsense and pulled out hisown gun but it started shooting flowers instead of bullets. Switching to daggerresulting in the blade turning into a balloon sword. Each change angered thecrime lord more and more.

“You are a dead man!” Neferia raised his fists ready tosmash Yuya’s head in.

Yuya just snapped his fingers and Neferia’s hot pink suitturned into a hot pink straight jacket. The originally intimidating crime lordwas now humiliated and restrained.

Clint wiped the tears from his eyes from laughing so hard, “Youhad us worried for a moment…glad you’re okay.”

“Can’t take the showman out of you, can we?” Natasha joked, “Thatwas rather entertaining.”

“It’s my job to make the audience laugh.” Yuya smiled.

I still think we should of gone for spikes. Yurimuttered

Shut up about the spikes!

………………………………………….

Yusaku stared at the screen as lines of code scrolled pastfrowning as he did so.

“So whatcha looking for?” Ai asked.

“Mr. Stark said that he’s been finding evidence that someonehas been trying to hack the Avenger’s database. He was hoping that I could identifyand block whoever was doing it.”

“Why would he care so much about some hacker. You hack thedatabase every day.”

“Three reasons…” Yusaku said, “One…Mr. Stark knows that Iwouldn’t cause damage to the database. Two…he wants to know how to improve thesecurity. And three…we need to know if this hacker is one of his enemies.”

“And why isn’t he doing this?” Ai grumbled, “We could be doingsomething more fun.”

“I believe his words were ‘to do something useful so that youdon’t start messing with the dark web’ or something along those lines.” Yusakusaid, “Like I would willingly traverse the dark web anyway.”

“You’re telling me…that place is way to creepy.” Aishuddered.

Yusaku just turned his attention back to the screen scanningfor signs of the hacker. Eventually his patience paid off as he noticed smallblips, clearly signs of someone testing the defenses.

“Found you…” Yusaku’s fingers were making quick work tohijack the signal and began tracking it back. Once there he would reverse hackthe hacker’s computer to get as much information as he could to determine theidentity of the individual.

Though it seemed like the hacker was on to him quickly. Afirewall was quickly thrown up but Yusaku tore it apart quickly. Another wallwas quickly created which Yusaku originally found some difficulty cracking untilhe noticed a virus inside the firewall. He had to make a quick anti-virus sothat his own computer wouldn’t get attacked. It seemed like his opponent wasanticipating his moves was deliberately being unpredictable to throw Yusakuoff.

“If I only knew what they were thinking…” Yusaku muttered tohimself. Then his eyes trailed down to the Mind Stone. Would it work withouteye contact?

“What ever you’re thinking…just putting it out there that Ithink it’s a bad idea.” Ai said.

“You think everything is a bad idea.” Yusaku said as hepicked up the stone and focused on trying to connect with the mind of the personon the other side of the screen. Instantly his mind was sailing through seas ofnumbers and code. He could see his opponent working on his next move and Yusakumet him line by line.

Soon Yusaku was in his mind and computer. He started rippingas much as he could, copies of programs, data files, contacts, and finally…hegot a name.

Helmut Zemo

Yusaku snapped back to reality, head spinning with all theinformation he just got. After quickly reinforcing the tower’s defense code, heran to tell Tony what he found.

[shirtlesssammy]

1x16: Shadow

Previously on Supernatural:

Sam and Dean are hard at work looking for their dad.

Now:

Down an empty city street, a lone woman walks into a dark, foggy alley. A sudden wind storm sweeps through the area and shadows dance across building walls. The woman starts running (and like, seriously, I don’t care how late at night this is, there’s no one else around??) and makes it back to her apartment, sets the alarm and locks the door. Whew, she’s safe, or at least that’s what the music is telling me. She then plays messages on her ANSWERING MACHINE. Lol, sometimes I laugh at how old this show is. 

Anyway, a shadow creeps along the wall and SPLAT, we have a cold open victim after all. 

One Week Later

Sam and Dean, professional cosplayers, are dressed as alarm system employees today. Dean is a tad incredulous they have to play dress-up (but secretly LOVES it, let’s admit it.) 

He ribs Sam a little bit about a play he did in high school (Dean’s such a supportive brother to go watch that. Poor Sam can’t act himself out of an alternate universe where he IS an actor.) They enter the victim’s apartment. The landlord tells them their company sucks. The windows were locked, the door was bolted, and the alarm system was still on. Hmm. Everything was in order, but Meredith. She was in pieces all over the floor. 

The brothers start looking around the apartment. Dean previously spoke with the police (and ofc he’d hit it off with a Sagittarius) and reveals that the victim was missing her heart. They speculate about what they’re dealing with until Dean sees a pattern in the blood splatter on the floor (My sweet, smart son). He starts laying tape to form the pattern. It forms a symbol that neither brother recognizes.  

Later, at a bar, Dean is busy talking up the bartender when Sam wanders in with notes from the case. Dean checks in, and normally at this stage in the game I am eye-rolling hard at overcompensating Dean, but he is SO proud about getting the bartender’s number. (Like, why Dean? You’re an A+ charmer and you look like Jensen Ackles.) 

Honestly, though, Dean was doing the job. He gathered a heck of a lot of info on Meredith. They have another victim but there doesn’t appear to be a connection, except with how they died. 

Suddenly, Sam takes off. He finds his old travel buddy, Meg. WHAT A CRAZY COINCIDENCE. (Also, <insert old WB joke here>)  She yells at Dean for making Sam do things he doesn’t want to do. Look at Dean’s face when he looks at Sam! Guh. Then he pulls the classic Dean move and makes light of the comment and walks away to get a beer. AND then he looks back at Sam again as he’s walking away. This gives Sam and Meg some time to talk and Sam gets her digits. 

Later, when Sam and Dean are leaving the bar, Dean asks about Meg. Sam doesn’t really know her and finds it weird to have run into her again. Dean wants to know more about the shit talk Sam was spreading about him but Sam is trying to talk about how weird it is to run into Meg again. He tasks Dean with learning more about Meg Masters and the symbol at the victim’s apartment. Sam is going to watch Meg, and Dean finds this infinitely funny. 

Later, Dean calls Sam, who’s outside Meg’s apartment, to tell him that she checks out. He encourages Sam to ask her out. And at the end of the day, I can’t help but love Dean’s way of helping Sam. Maybe it’s not the most understanding but he really wants to help Sam move on and heal. Anyway, he also learned about the symbol. It’s a Zoroastrian demon sigil. Sam wonders how Dean learned all this, and Dean makes it clear that HE READS TOO. 

For Science:

But Dean realizes that he’s not performing enough and tells Sam that he asked a friend of John’s. All the same, Dean says that from the info he (NOT CALEB) gathered, the demon has to be summoned and that means someone is controlling it. Anyway, Dean gets gross and Sam hangs up on him. Then Sam gets gross and watches Meg change through her window. 

Meg leaves her apartment and Sam follows her to an old warehouse. Once inside, he finds that she’s set up a nice little summoning altar. She talks to someone/thing in a chalice. She’ll await their arrival. 

Sam sneaks out of the elevator shaft he was hiding in. He sees the altar and is literally like, “What the hell?”

“Dude, I gotta talk to you,” is how these two giant nerds simultaneously greet each other back at the hotel.

Sam fills Dean in on Meg. She’s the one who’s been summoning the daeva. Dean reveals his own new intel. His police contact got him the victims’ files: they’re both originally from Lawrence, Kansas. Dean calls their dad and tells them they might be close to the thing that killed their mom. (“That’s where everything started.” Crying noise. Crying noise.) Before they head out to the warehouse, Sam dumps a big bag of weapons on the bed.

Sam is like me packing for a trip at 2 a.m. Uh, idk, maybe I’ll need this? Better pack it just in case. Holy water, ritual books, and just about every weapon he can think of. “I’m not sure what to expect, so I guess we should just expect everything?” I feel you, Sammy.

Then the boys talk about how NOT nervous they are - how totally chill they feel about possibly confronting the thing that killed their mom. If they succeed, Sam would go back to school. Dean, though? He’s in the life for good. “There’s always gonna be somethin’ to hunt.” Sam asks Dean if there’s anything he wants for himself (crying intensifies) and Dean bursts out that he doesn’t want Sam to bail on him again. “You and me and dad. I want us to be together again.” Oh, Dean Bean. 

On that fun note, let’s go kick some ass! Sam and Dean climb back up the warehouse elevator shaft. Meg stands on one side of the room facing a wall and muttering incantations (as one does). They creep into the room while she chants and take up defensive positions. Without even turning around, she calls them out. “Hiding’s a bit childish, don’t you think?” (Meg, the proper word to tell them to stop hiding is olly-olly-oxen-free.) She tells them that she was waiting for them. It WAS a trap! She commands the daeva to attack.

The daeva slices the hell out of Sam’s face and hurls the boys across the room, knocking them out. They wake up a little while later, trussed up to beams. 

Sam tries to unravel why Meg targeted the two victims. It turns out their deaths were meaningless; killing people from Lawrence was simply bait for her Winchester trap. Dean tries to cut through the villain monologue and find out why they’re still alive, but Meg tells him that the trap she set isn’t for them…it’s for their dad. “He has one weakness,” Meg says. “He lets his guard down around his boys. Lets his emotions cloud his judgment.” BOOM. Cue the feelings.

Meg lets her snarky demon flag fly around Sam. She taunts him about watching her, wanting her. Meg starts to kiss Sam (gross gross yuck gross) until she hears a snick of a blade as Dean tries to break free. She tosses away Dean’s knife and goes back to Sam, who head butts her, revealing his own released hands. 

On Dean’s direction, Sam topples the altar, freeing the daeva. The daeva goes after Meg, dragging her to the window and tossing her to the ground below.

Back at their hotel, they open the door to find a mysterious shadow. It’s their dad! It’s Hugchester time.

Dean apologizes for not spotting the trap and John tells them that a) he knew it was a trap so no worries and b) he was in town as well. HEY John, thanks for warning your kids. John reveals that he’s working on a way to kill the yellow-eyed demon for good. But he’s (tosses hair back dramatically) got to do it ALONE.

It’s Hugchester time AGAIN, when suddenly John gets hurled across the room. The daeva’s back in Daeva’s Revenge: Part Two: The Wreckoning. The daeva proceeds to wreck the hotel room, and toss Dean and Sam around as well. Outside, Meg approaches with a daeva sigil necklace. It’s looking bad for our heroes, when Sam lights a flare to chase away the shadows (including the daeva). 

They all stumble from the room, bruised and bloodied, and make their way to the Impala.

They’re about to head out together when Dean tells them that John can’t go with them. Meg was right - John’s vulnerable when he’s around his sons. Sam begs John not to leave but John’s already got both feet out the proverbial door. They give each other the worst sort of goodbye hug - a manly pat on the shoulder, and then John takes off in his truck. 

Meg watches them leave town. It’s not over, boys. Not by a long shot.

________________________________

Only the Shadow Quotes:

You think credit card fraud is easy? 

I came, I saw, I conquered. Oh, and I met what’s-his-name, something Michael Murray at a bar.

Maybe you’re thinkin’ a little too much with your upstairs brain, huh?

What’s the significance of Lawrence? 

What if this whole thing was over tonight? Man, I��d sleep for a month. Go back to school—be a person again.

Things will never be the way they were before.

Dad’s vulnerable when he’s with us. He’s stronger without us around.

Alright, you little pervert

You don’t have the corner on paper chasing around here.

________________________________

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

[adashofstarshine]

Day In, Day Out - A Niki Story

Usually I post Niki stories to AO3, but I thought this one was short enough for tumblr!

Get up, shower, get dressed and have breakfast. Go to work, have lunch and dinner between shifts, go home, shower, and then get some rest. Repeat the next day. And the next. And the next. Until it was Thursday. Gods, he hated Thursdays. But Fridays were the same, and Saturdays, rinse and repeat until the following damnable Thursday.

It wasn’t a bad routine. Most importantly, it was his routine. One he’d become so used to over the last twenty years that he went through the motions like clockwork. He no longer needed to weigh how many porridge oats he needed for his breakfast. He no longer hurried along the pavement, worried he might be running late for an early rehearsal.  The seller at Been’s Beans knew his order and had it ready every Saturday before afternoon matinee. The only part of his day that could go unscripted was when a repeat client dropped by for an unscheduled appointment. Then again, he’d been doing this so long, he took surprises like that in his stride.

Except on Thursdays. Most of the other performers worked four or five days a week, depending on family commitments. With no such things holding him back, and an abundance of energy to spare, Niki would have happily have worked every day. However, Madame Director wouldn’t let him. She insisted he needed at least one day to ‘get his head away from it all’ – whatever that meant. So, Niki worked six. Two days as lead, two days as chorus, and two days on compulsory wait duty (boo.) It worked out neatly really, and the timing of the shifts only changed from season to season. Six days a week he was occupied. Six days a week he could use all his boundless energy and talent to wow his audience and woo his admirers.  If he was lucky, a client would whisk him away from wait duty, or see him after a show, to give him even more work to fill his time. But not on Thursdays. Thursdays just left him feeling kind of…lost.

He could get up and get ready for the day, but what was he preparing for? His home was so tiny, three box rooms and a hallway, that it was almost impossible to entertain himself there. He didn’t even have a proper kitchen, unless you counted a hob and a fridge the total sum of a kitchen. He could lie on his bed and read whatever novella he’d last taken out from the library. But that left him feeling incredibly restless.

He’d explored every part of the neighbourhood that wouldn’t get him stabbed, and a few places that would. He liked the bathhouse two streets along, but there was a limit to how long you could stay in there. He liked shopping, but once again, space was at a premium in his shoebox of a flat. If there was a fair nearby, he’d go there, happy to travel further afield if the posters led him that way. An hour away was Rough Rita’s All Day Carnival – a warehouse turned into a permanent indoor fairground. But entry added up and there was only so much of Rough Rita’s décor he could stomach.

He had friends; Niki liked to remind himself. One had moved to District Three to work at some fancy elves-only clinic and the other… the other was kind of prickly after she’d learned her brother was paying Niki for sex.  They were still on speaking terms but…well, she lived in the next precinct now anyway. It occurred to Niki, it had occurred to him so many times, that most people had more than two friends. He had Beth as well but, well, anything he told her would certainly go back to Madame D and well…

He didn’t want Madame D knowing why he truly hated days off.

For all Madame Director knew, he was a completely normal and healthy employee, who maybe had some self-endangering trauma, but was overall the best she had and she should give him all the best parts in all the plays ever. What she didn’t know, wasn’t going to endanger his chance at being the theatre’s darling. Or continuing to be so. Or something like that. He was ok! He was fine! So perfectly fine, he was finest anyone had ever been! So, so, so, so very…

Krokt, he was such a mess.

Niki was lonely. He hated Thursdays because they reminded him that he was nothing without work. Nothing to achieve, no one to really talk to, he was just one figure in the uncaring bustle that was Ravnica. If he died, Roxy and Kay would be sad for a little while, but then they’d acknowledge that Niki had known the risks of the life he’d chosen and simply move on. He hadn’t made enough of an impression of anyone to have them want to meet up with him. To ask after his health, to want to do fun activities or go to interesting places. He was in desperate need of friends.

But how? How did anyone just find friends? Was there a set way to do it? Was there a guide he could follow? How did people just connect seemingly by nature? How did you just meet people and know friendship had occurred? This line of thought made Niki’s head spin, worried that it had condemned him to a life of loneliness. No one had ever taught him how to make friends. It sounded like the sort of thing he should’ve learned when he was younger rather than how to pirouette or dance on an empty stomach. His parents had kept him purposefully apart from other elves his age, and as a teen, his interaction had mostly been performances of some kind or another. How did you tear down the invisible wall between you and someone else? How did you step from ‘acquaintance’ to ‘friend’? Niki wasn’t shy. He was an actor! He danced and sung for hundreds! He was the opposite of shy. Yet, he just couldn’t. He didn’t know how and he hated it.

If he couldn’t make friends, how was he ever going to fall in love?  He was taking things one step at a time. Friends first, but he spent his evenings nose-first in novels detailing the most fantastic of relationships. Young protagonists, feeling alienated in their everyday lives, would catch the eyes of handsome men and find their life partners, not without a degree of dramatic strife. Some of the sex scenes were a bit meh, but otherwise… Oh to be a swooning romantic hero in a billowing white shirt, in the muscular arms of his gorgeous and devoted boyfriend. They would leave the pressures of society behind and run away to an enormous (possibly-haunted) manor and make love until the sun rose through the stained glass. There they would restore the place to its former glory and hold lavish parties for all their many many friends.

Niki knew the novels were unrealistic, but couldn’t an elf dream?

He’d just settle for mattering. Meaning something to someone. Anything really. Just enough of an attachment that they’d look forward to seeing each other and miss each other when apart. Was that too much to ask? He just wanted to be something to somebody. He had so much love to give but… These thoughts always came to him when there wasn’t any work to distract him. When he couldn’t lose himself to the glamour of being on stage, or the admiration he received when off it. Even waiting was preferable to this. He could secretly rate customers, angle for tips, it was as much a show as anything else, just with a different costume. Yet on Thursdays, there was no hiding behind a painted smile and a bubbly attitude. There were no clients to please and no colleagues to laugh with. He just had himself and… being himself was clearly insufficient.  

What could he do? He didn’t know and that led him back into the same routine, week in week out. Six days of work, one day of sadness, six days of work, one day of being alone. It was very easy to follow a schedule when you knew it like the back of your hand. So the cycle continued and Niki continued to hate it when Thursday came, just like all the other Thursdays came before it.

[fantabulousfunnelweb]

Chonky Spider-Tober Prompt dump (12-19)

200+ Words per Prompt, Feedback appreciated.

(Be prepped for a lot of Lore for Funnels Earth, don’t be afraid to send Asks seeking an explanation of things though, I’ll explain gladly)\

Minor Warning:

Mention of Gunshot Wounds

Minor Profanity use

Scars 

Day 12: Cold

Beanies over full-face masks look rather stupid, a token reason Funnel had forgone such a thing in exchange for a cotton-lined Pauper hat. The only problem was that with no receivers for the bioelectric seaming, this piece of headgear was sailing off his head almost every second swing. The Winter streets below echoed with the frantic shouting of the Spider, his once elegant travel turned into a display most akin to a cat in heat, darting across the air to retrieve his hat in every instance it joined the snow in their act of falling. Kyles never wholly disliked the cold, but his perspective changed after swinging around so much. “Gotcha!” he cried as they scooped their hat up from midair once more, posture going lax with relief upon his landing upon an old billboard. “This hats more trouble than it's worth, but I’d really rather not risk getting a literal brain freeze...” “Do you really like hats that much? You seriously could’ve just worn a scarf or something.” The ever investigative tones of their partner Kamala breaking the silence of the thought-to-be inactive comm line, catching the Spider off-guard and nearly causing him to drop the hat again. “Jesus Kamala, were you listening to all that?” “You bet, it's amazing how often you keep forgetting to disconnect all the time.”

Day 13: Sidekick

“Just a minute asshole, since when did I become your sidekick?”

“What? We’ve worked together a few times now, besides you’re… clearly younger.” Kyles clenched at the fists, mask furrowing quite visibly to mimic a low, angered brow. “Seriously!? You’ve been at this for how long compared to me and you think I’m just gonna happily be your sidekick?” The Defender fell silent. Funnel could see the moment of unsureness cross his face before they let out a response, “Okay well... But I’ve saved your life! That's gotta be worth something, huh kid?” “Nighthawk, look, I’m thankful for what you’ve done for me, I truly am. All I’m saying maybe you’re taking this a bit too far, I’ve got no interest playing Sidekick to anyone.” Even if he didn’t want to admit it, the Defenders were certainly right to call this guy rather self-centred, another one in the shortlist of things they agreed on. Nighthawk could see his chances slipping, and went to grasp for some kind of bribe, “But I can pay you! I can get you a better suit! Better Webs!. '' Kyles had certainly heard it all now, expression unchanged as the only thing left to do was walk out, “Get yourself a better attitude, then we’ll talk.” disappearing out the closest skylight without so much as a noise.

Day 14: Winter Suit

The dust pile coating the old closet interior kicked up into Jonathan's face, causing the unfortunate soul to become blasted with a hail of months old dust. “When the hell did you guys last clean this thing!?” Kyles sputtered through his sleeve as he shook the old hairs & dirt off of him. Darcy’s voice echoed from the bathroom down the hall in response, “Beats me, I asked Phil to clean that last month! Remind him if you see him, ‘kay Kyles?” “Yes Miss Marko!” With only minimal dust to complicate things, Jonathan began sifting through the bulging racks of downright ancient jackets, humming to himself as they inspected whatever caught their eye. Whilst he had claimed his want for a different jacket was just to mix things up, he was desperately on the search for whatever he could assemble as part of his more ‘lower-temperature’ suits. His past 2 weeks braving a New York Winter for the first time had left him barely wanting to even get out of bed. But he knew eventually Mayday would kill him if he kept the suit stuck underneath his bed for more than a week. “Do we have any fur jackets?” “Fur Jackets?! What are we, rich?” an unfortunate eavesdropper on Kyle’s own ramblings, Miss Marko barked from her porcelain palace, “Come on Johnny! It's not like you’re in the cold that long, man up!”

Day 15: Scars

“This? Bullpup Slug clipped my thigh.”

Her pale skin exposed to the harsh, crude old lighting, the interested Teens could see the splotches of raw skin faintly, like accidental paint dots blemishing an otherwise perfect canvas. Leaned in from their seats at the table, the young heroes marvelled silently at Chetz’s aging wounds, seeing it as something of a mark of dedication than a past injury. “Alright, someone else’s turn.” Silence struck the dilapidated warehouse room before someone stepped up to the plate. “Alright, Let me see what I got.” Raising a gloved band to his tightly affixed Vest, Patriot popped a button or two, “Funnel, remember the mob front we took down a month or two back in Upper Harlem?”

Eyes darted towards the Spider. His telescopic lenses shooting wide in surprise, his agape mouth shielded by the mask. “So you DID get shot?” He blurted out, curled fingers rapping against the rusted metal bench they all resided, “Why didn’t you tell me?” Patriot shook his head in return, gripping his thick undershirt and pulling it up to reveal. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“You got shot!”

“I got better.”

Funnel arched himself over his chair, head staring up into the dingy, grime coated ceiling lights. “Christ Patey, If all our adventures don’t kill you, I will myself someday.

Day 16: Movie

“Snacks too? I don’t want to take too much of your money...”

Chetznakova didn’t listen, shoving the note into his arms and strutting past him towards the snack booth, followed quickly by Kamala & Elijah. Kyles had no other choice but to follow, kicking off his heel to catch up with them once more, “I’ll try not to get too much, I’d-“

“Jonathan. Seriously, It’s fine.” It hardly felt that way for him, spider-senses rendering them alert to the prying eyes of public onlookers. Compared to his friends, he didn’t look like the sort to be hanging around this part of town. “I-... Okay.” The harsh lighting of the tiled snack booth bathed the quartet of teens in light, reflecting off the weathered plastic candy containers that they began to pick at with the aid of equally small shovels. “I’ve been waiting to see this movie for a while, you guys?” Looking to change the subject to another topic, he gazed towards his compatriots, waiting to see who would receive & answer. 

“Saw the first movie last month, didn’t look like a bad idea to see the sequel when you guys offered.” Chetz relayed, scooping a handful of sour gummy-bears into her snack bag. “It reminds me though, we hitting any more places after this?”

Day 17: Town

KA-CHING

A momentary transaction brought the fresh paper bag into his grasp, weighed down by its cargo as it dangled lightly in the air. “Thanks Sir!”The Spiders eyes fell onto the Umbrakenite to his right, staring her featureless costume in its face. The Shadow-being met his gaze with the void of her own, almost motionless as light ceased around her. “What.”“Say Thank you.”Her head noticeably twitched in confusion, “Sorry, What?”Funnel gestured to the employee at the register, clearly too deep into his graveyard shift to emote to any substantial degree. “He let us buy snacks”“So? That’s his job.”Knocking his head back, the Funnel-Web pulled the shopping bag to his side, “Y-... Whatever Let's go.” Turning on his heel to brush past the counter and onto the short path outside, Dusk followed without a moment's hesitation, taking to his side in an instant. “Did we get those Chips Patriot wanted?”

“Yes.” Parting the bag open with a thumb to double-check its contents before scrunching it back closed in a fist. “...Do you want your thing yet?” choosing to look past her lack of gratitude for the team being, he awaited her answer.

“...Yes, Thank You.” A surge of momentary anger dashed through his system, snapping in & out of gaze with the Unregistered as they frustratingly reach into their bag and snatch a carton of Orange Juice from within, thrusting it into her grasp in their attempt to avoid doing anything overly aggressive

Day 18: Luck

The moments between the bullet graze & the ensuing pain certainly made top-list of worst moments Kyles ever had this week. An almost deadly High-caliber round piercing the dense mesh of his suit as the albeit minor impact still sent him flailing through the sky, buckling the reinforced steel of a car roof upon touchdown with the street. The aches of a bruised back paled in comparison to the torn flesh & muscle of his left arm, a holeshot clean through the Spiders tricep and leaving him to bleed across his side and the dented metal of some unfortunate person car.

Sensations dulled as the world around him began to fade, the blinking lenses of his mask informing its hazy user of the blood they’ve lost before coming to reap the consequences of such loss, vision going dark as the disturbing bliss of silence washed over them…

“Jonathan...”

The word prodded at his subconscious like a fly, persisting as the world around the Spider began slowly, yet surely creeping back into conscious. Shapes formed, colours came into sight, and the fuzzy blob in the near-distance was saying something.

“Woah Woah, stay still there Kyles, We-... You’re still hurt.”

Without so much as thinking, the wounded youth shifted his feet, unable to feel them underneath the electric blanket coating them, inciting a tired groan of partial panic & frustration.

“The hell did I just say?! Just… Lay down okay? You’re lucky to even be awake right now after that.”

Day 19: Freestyle

Kyles always considered himself to have a weird relationship with pets, minor allergies aside, he enjoyed their presence, yet whenever one got close, strings of panic never failed to dart his mind, feeling as if at any point they would grow hostile and attack him, and now? His latent fears had paid off after so long. His soles met the intricate ceiling with a hard thud, curling up with his hat firmly within hold as Miss Hardy's ravenous cats hissed and leapt in an attempt to claw & maim the intruder, their wild scampering rousing the attention of their owner from their slumber.

“Castel!?! What’s all the noise about-”

“Uh… Hello Miss Hardy!”

Her snow-white hair frayed and her night-gown creased, Felicia Hardy gazed upwards to the unexpected entry, currently cowering in fear on the ceiling to escape her… aggressive family.

Furrowing her wrinkled brow, she reached the cat bell from the high-shelf and jostled it, the piercing brass-on-brass echoing across the room and bringing the ravenous feline herd to a stop. “Run along now children, Mommy has business.” a dismissive gesture scattering them in flocks back to their mundane cat lives.

“Th-Thank you Miss Hardy.”

“Save it Little Spider, Care to explain what you’re doing here?”

The affectionate nicknames never failed to irk Kyles the wrong way, feeling the hair stand up on his arms as he fumbled for his purpose of coming here.

“Its Barracuda, I think he's sent someone after you.”

[alfred-play-despacito]

Tim and his Funky Protective Gloopy Parasite AU

I will most likely never get around to officially writing this, but I’ve had it saved since December and wanted to post it... I basically rewrote the entire Venom movie to fit JayTim, okies, so spoilers if you haven’t seen it yet. Also I borrowed a lot of the dialouge too.

Tim works as an investigator for Vicky Vale. She wants him to hack some shit to find out if there’s an affair going on between Harleen Quinzel and Pamela Isley. Or take photos. He can totally do a photojournalist type thing. Or both.

Tim’s long term girlfriend Steph is an intern at Neo Eden. Tim uses her employee login to hack into the system and look at Pamela’s emails— he finds reports about using humans as test subjects for alien parasite hosts to save the environment and stop global warming. The next day, he writes a report, bypasses it through the editors and posts it on the Gotham Gazette website. Vicky calls him in, fires him.

Tim: But this is real! Something finally important! People are dying! Vicky: We’re a gossip paper, Tim, not the Daily Planet. Isley has the money to sue us, you’re lucky she hasn’t shut us down completely.

Tim is all huffy, whatever, it’s fine. He only did it as a hobby/part time job, he has his whole Drake inheritance.

Steph has his stuff out on the sidewalk when he gets back to their place. She’s fucking livid. And tries knocking him in the face with a brick.

Steph: You couldn’t be fucking chill for, like, five minutes? Tim: She’s killing people with aliens on some Save-The-Planet agenda. Steph: That was my internship! I was lining up a job there! I got fired because of you. Tim: Do you really want to work at a place that’s experimenting with aliens though?

She breaks up with him. His face is on the cover of the Gazette, fresh off the press. “Drake Heir Posts False Rumors Attacking Pamela Isley.”

Tim: So that’s how Vickey got out of a lawsuit.

Tim’s just not in the mood for anything, depressed and all that, so he dedicates himself to living an Aesthetic Mood by buying some shitty apartment in the Bowery. It sucks but he gets a small routine. Friends with the late night shift at Batburger. His neighbors suck.

Eventually someone from Neo Eden approaches him. The dude is named Dick Grayson, he’s an undercover cop that’s been working at Neo Eden as a security guard to investigate the shady shit going on ever since Tim’s article was published. He asks Tim for help. Tim says no.

Tim goes across the city to the Burnley District to see Steph. He meets Cass, who graduated from Gotham University as a med student and now works at Gotham General Hospital. He’s really bummed and decides to call Dick back.

Dick brings him in at night to see the facility. Tim takes photos and then sees one of the poor dudes from Batburger is a test subject. He tries to help the dude out but it backfires (as things in Tim’s life tend to do) and the dude attacks Tim and that’s when Venom is transferred.

Tim and Dick sneak back out (because Dick’s not dying), and Dick drops him off at his shitty place in the Bowery.

Tim: So, are you going to get fired from GCPD?

Dick’s really vague but says he’ll be okay, his boss can sort it out (meaning Bruce.)

All the weird stuff starts happening to him. Crazy appetite. A fever. Venom starts speaking to him, just single words like, hungry and food.

Deliriously, Tim goes out and finds Steph grocery shopping with Cass. He is a little rabid and is raiding the frozen food section, Venom pointing things out, and Steph is really embarrassed. It reaches extreme levels when they pass the seafood section and Tim plops into the lobster tank.

They take Tim to Gotham General. Cass tries to do an MRI test but of course he spazzes because the loud noise hurts Venom. Tim claims he’s fine and leaves.

Back at his shitty apartment, he eats a bunch of garbage and pukes. Venom starts talking to him. (Diverging from the film for this next bit) Tim is kind of just like “fuck this,” and sits down to watch some mindless tv and hopefully nap. Venom introduces himself as Venom.

Tim: What the hell are you? Venom: I am Venom. Tim: You can’t just call yourself Venom. Every superhero or supervillain needs a civilian identity. Just because you’re some alien parasite doesn’t make you special. Venom: I’m not a parasite. Tim: Oh look, Friday the 13th is on. Awesome, I’ve never actually seen the entire thing, so be quiet.

Eventually Tim has an epiphany.

Tim: I’ll call you Jason!

Tim’s neighbor plays obnoxiously loud music and Jason freaks and Tim stomps over there to tell him to be quiet. The dude says no. Jason pulls his little freaky face thing and growls at the dude. The dude agrees to turn it down.

Eventually, Ivy finds him. (Looked at the security camera footage, got a photo of his face, tracked him down, etc.) A bunch of mercs come to attack him.

Jason: Don’t open the door.

Tim’s an idiot so he opens the door.

Tim and Jason argue over putting their hands up or down. Jason wins and attacks the mercs.

Jason: Outstanding! Now, let’s bite off all their heads; heads in one pile, bodies in another. Tim, exasperated: Why would we do that?

They leave the apartment, Tim catches his reflection in the window of a car. Jason scares him.

Jason: I can replace you. I can find another host, you’re just a replacement for my last one. Tim: Listen, if you don’t like me you can just leave, okay?

Mercs and drones show up so they go on a crazy motorcycle chase which includes Jason saving Tim from dying, like, twelve times.

They end up at a secluded warehouse, Tim is fully healed.

Jason: You’re mine, Timmy. Cooperate and you just might survive. Tim: Are you going to… you going to eat anybody else? Jason: Most likely. Tim: Ugh, God.

They go back to the Gotham Gazette office but security stops Tim from getting in.

Tim: If we go back to the apartment I can hack the security and we can come back and sneak in. Jason: Where’s the office? Tim: 22nd floor. Jason: Up? Tim: Yeah.

Jason takes that as permission (and it was NOT) to crawl up the side of the building. Tim is mildly panicking. They end up at the top of the building.

Jason: It’s almost peaceful up here. Tim: I’m not a fan of heights. Jason: Your world is not so ugly after all. I’m almost sorry to see it end. Tim: Don’t drop me, I swear to freaking god, you will never get tater tots again— wait, what the heck does that mean?!

Cue the airplane. Jason starts freaking out because of the noise, so he withdraws and then Tim starts falling.

Tim: Where’d you go? Jay, where’d you go? Jay—

Jason grips on to the building.

Jason: I got us.

Tim leaves the photos of Ivy’s lab that he took on his phone on Vicky's desk.

Jason: Jump. Tim, walking to the elevator: Nope. Jason: Pussy.

Mercs are waiting downstairs for them.

Tim: Guys, you don’t want to do this, trust me. Mercs: Masks! Copy! Tim: Okay, okay, have it your way… Mask! Jason: Copy.

Steph finds them after the fight. She drives Tim back to Gotham General to do more tests. Jason tells Tim to man up and apologize to her.

At the hospital, Cass looks at test results and says Tim has a parasite. Jason gets angry about being called a parasite. Cass explains that Jason is basically draining Tim in order to live. Tim feels really betrayed and leaves.

Tim gets captured by Ivy. Once it’s clear that he no longer has Venom she wants him dead. The Mercs take him out to the middle of an abandoned warehouse to kill him. Jason saves the day. Jason kisses Tim as Steph, and during the kiss morphs back into Tim.

Tim and Jason head off to find Isley.

Jason: Riot’s got shit you won’t believe. Tim: What are our chances? Jason: Basically zero. Tim: Alright, fuck it, let’s go save the world.

There’s a big fight. (Need to think about the rocket situation because I don’t want Ivy to die.) Riot tries to rip Venom from Tim. Tim reaches out and in a moment of pure gay love, Jason reaches out too, Tim’s fingertips brush Jason and they fuse together. There’s more fighting.

Steph cranks up a speaker and the noise makes Ivy and Tim separate from their symbiotes. Ivy goes to grab Riot but Tim pushes her away. Tim turns around and is impaled by Riot. Riot grabs Ivy and they go to board the rocket. Jason latches onto Tim, heals him, then they climb the rocket. Jason cuts through the fuel line and the rocket explodes. The fire hits Jason and Tim, so Jason detaches and allows Tim to live. Tim falls into the bay.

Later, Tim is back chilling with Steph. They’re friends now. Jason is interrupting the conversation and Steph is suspicious that something is going on. Tim claims it’s nothing and leaves.

Jason and Tim walk around together. Tim tries laying down some ground rules. Mainly that they can only eat bad people.

At the empty Batburger at night, a thug tries to rob the cashier at gunpoint. Jason asks if that’s a bad guy and Tim says yes.

Jason: We will eat both your arms, and then both of your legs, and then we will eat your face right off of your head. You will be this armless, legless, faceless thing, won't you, going down the street like a turd in the wind. Thug: What the hell are you? Tim and Jason smile: We are Venom.

The cashier is like, “Okay am I tripping on too much acid, or…?”

Tim: Oh… I have a parasite. Yeah. See you later, dude.” Jason: PaRaSiTe!? Tim: Symbiote is too complicated for the average Gotham citizen to understand. Jason: Well, you’re just a depressed hermit. Tim: Take that back!

They continue walking.

Tim: So… what do you want to do now? Jason: The way I see it, we can do whatever we want.

[boogiewrites]

Reports & Repertoire 11

Characters: Eddie Brock x Venom x Candace Miller (OFC)

Word Count:  6000

Summary:   Candy’s ego leads her to make a bad decision. This leads Venom having to reveal himself to save her. How will she react to finding out her new romance has been a threesome she had no clue about?

Warnings/Tags: Language. Violence. Fighting. Venom being the best wingman ever. Venom saving the day. Candy coming to terms with Eddie being the weirdest groupon ever. Candy is the coolest and most reasonable cucumber.

Click on my icon then go to Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.)

Candy and Eddie had fallen in a nice flow of come and go with each other. They had been right, being able to reach out and simply ask for the other was working well. He'd slept over at her place, she'd slept over at his, meeting up for meals and even a late night quickie in her office once was holding up pretty well for them so far. They were busy, but they were happy.

Venom kept nagging Eddie, threatening to show himself so he would tell her about him. Venom was growing very impatient and Eddie took to spending more time in public with Candy instead of nights in to avoid this happening as long as he could. He kept Venom fed in the meantime as best he could, and that was the most helpful thing he could've done for himself. This didn't stop the insults from coming though.

"Coward." Venom would whisper into his ear as he left Candy's place.

"Shut up." Eddie would groan.

"Chicken. Weakling. Pussy. Wimp. Baby." he'd nag.

"I get it you got a fuckin' thesaurus." Eddie sighs. He knew he was right but he was so happy, and Candy was happy and he didn't want to lose it. He didn't know if he could lose it again.  But as he does, Venom pushes him to be better. He wasn't just Eddie anymore, he was Venom and together they could be so much more than they had been apart. And that fear of being alone was useless now.

"If you'd told her before you got together this wouldn't be an issue. You're acting like a jerk again. A liar. A dumb ass. It wasn't a big secret and now it is something you are keeping from her. Now you are breaking her trust. And it will be all your fault if she leaves us. Again. You're doing this to yourself, Eddie. You cannot learn your lesson can you?" Venom hisses and judges.

"I'll tell her when it's a good time to tell her. She's in the middle of a big story right now, I don't wanna throw her off her game."

"You are a cur. You should not lie to her like this."

"Oh you've got the fancy words out now." he rolls his eyes.

"Distraction. Excuses." Venom spits out.

"Are you just jealous? You want to be able to be with her too? That it?"

"No. I'm disappointed in you." he rumbles out and he knows Eddie feels it within himself too. ------

Both Eddie and Steph both were loving Candy's new place. It was better than what either of them had. Eddie was paying off back logged bills still and Steph still at her same job weren't in a position to move up so soon. Candy was happy to share with both of them, they house sat when she wasn't there and helped keep her company in the quiet neighborhood when the other wasn't around. It had even worked out by accident that Eddie and Steph had been staying over at the same time on a few occasions, which no one seemed to mind as they soon found their missing of Candy and potential for eye-rolling level jokes were strongly shared between them.

Candace had been deep in an investigation for a fighting ring. WIth her new platform she was ready to get back to her first social injustice she focused on, the homeless, and give a platform for awareness to it. She had assisstants and PA's that helped her go to and from places, recording and scouting and general snooping of suspected areas of interest. It wasn't unusual for local gangs to run drugs through the homeless areas of the Mission, this had been going on for a long time. Street corners with members rubbing elbows with tech start ups on the same street made for an interesting mix. This apparently had led to another case of exploiting the homeless. With promises of money or drugs, they would be lured into old warehouses or abandoned lots, where members would watch them fight for whatever was up for grabs. It was a dangerous job, but the cops were only interested in drug money, they didn't care about the people. Candy did. She caught wind from one of her informants at the shelter about a meetup spot that had been used more than once. So she sees an opportunity. With the sun still up she figures it's safer. Armed with a phone set to send out 911 texts and call emergency services with the tap of a button and a gun she'd recently trained and licensed in a holster under her shirt, she felt ready to take on another big bad.

She didn't want to endanger any of her employees or coworkers, she would've felt entirely guilty and responsible, so she calls up Eddie to see if he's up for some good old fashion detective work.It's a Sunday and that usually meant a travel day, prep day or meeting a deadline for Eddie. She tells him she has a lead, that she doesn't want to wait for it to get cold and is gonna check it out and asks if he's interested. He doesn't think much of her vagueness, she usually was when it came to work since they dealt with sensitive information. So as he's trying to complete an article draft to send it before midnight, he grumbles and tells her he can't, that he needs to finish up but he'll call her later. Without being offended, Candy tells him she'll just text him after she's finished, that she'd be near his neck of the woods anyway. He agrees with a soft smile and a heavy sigh, wishing he could go out and get his hands dirty with her instead of being stuck inside working with an increasingly hungry symbiote.

So Candy makes the decision to go alone. She gives Steph all her information as to where she'd be going and she is not happy about it. She lectures her and tells her she's being reckless, that if one of her people tried to do this she'd give them hell. But she doesn't listen, Candy is tenacious and when she feels those she cares about are at stake, and her inflated ego from her recent successes, she leaves anyway.

She circles the old warehouse, surrounded by desolate and decaying buildings with for lease signs on them. Broken windows and overgrown parking lots, the only thing she sees besides her were stray dogs and birds, she walks confidently, hand on her phone in her pocket and starts to close in on the specific building. She finds an old busted service door, a large piece of plywood over it that had recently been moved, the dust and debris around it was ddisturbed and the door behind it was ajar. She moves it just enough to get through. The metal door is heavy and scrapes the ground, uneven on its warped hinges as she makes her way into the tall, hollow beige painted brick building. Windows with lots of tiny panes, many broken with no particular rhyme or reason let in more light into the space. She sees rooms that used to be offices, for she's guessing was a factory of some sort. Over turned filing cabinets and paper garbage line the cement block walls with their single, wide windows to see through. The wire lined glass made it hold together for the most part, but it'd been smashed many times over. She guessed by the metal trashcan that lay on its side a few feet away. The usual graffiti, some gang-related, some teens drawing dicks and writing 'hail satin' unironically cover the inside walls. The ground is damp in spots, leaves, and puddles, papers, condoms and drug paraphernalia are littered about. She watches for syringes and plastic baggies, stips of rubber and spoons, remnants of busted glass pipes crunch under her feet. She moves to the center of the room, a large circle spray painted very roughly lays in the middle. She walks it, taking pictures with her phone, noting the blood splatters within it, the abandoned bloodied clothes and the signs of struggle among the lines of upright and strewn crates and boxes that surround the circle. There was definitely something going on here. But she didn't have enough evidence to really do anything about it. As she takes pictures, her phone buzzes. It'd been a few hours now since she'd called Eddie that afternoon, she answers quietly as she sees it's him.

"Hey." she whispers.

"Hey. Why are you whispering?" he whispers back.

"I'm at the spot I was talking about."

"That still doesn't answer my question." he snarks.

"I can't see outside so I don't want anyone to know I'm in here." she says obviously, walking back towards the door.

"You trespassing?" his voice inflects.

"Well duh." she says with a roll of her eyes

"Candy are you there by yourself?" he asks more seriously.

"Yeah, no one else could come-"

"Get out of there now." he says sternly.

"I'm leaving, I just wanted pictures. I needed some sort of evidence." she retorts.

"Candy I swear to god, you get out of there now and go home or I'm gonna come get you myself."

He doesn't hear her respond.

"Candy?" he asks more panicked.

He hears a rustling sound.

"Someone's outside." he hears her whisper much lower. She'd ran into one of the abandoned offices, barricaded herself in an old coat closet where the smell was bad enough to make her gag.

"You in trouble? I'll call someone. You okay?"

"I don't know who it is. I gotta go. They can't know I'm here." she says curtly and hangs up.

"Don't you fuckin' hang up on me!" he shouts and is met with the beep of a disconnected line. "GODDAMMIT!" he shouts, eyes shifting quickly over his apartment.

"Where is she?" Venom asks.

"I don't...I don't remember...did she say?" his voice fast and high pitched.

"No. Who would know?" he asks, trying to hide how nervous Eddie was making him.

"Stephanie. Steph would know." he says in an almost slurred risen voice as he punches her contact information.

"Steph? Where the fuck is Candy?"

"Her dumbass went to an abandoned warehouse for some fight club thing." she says with an annoyed sigh.

"AND YOU LET HER?!" he shouts.

"NO. I did not LET her. I told her not to but you try making her listen. You fuckin' journalists and your ambition." she rolls her eyes.

"Text me the address right now. Right when I hang up, you got it?" he orders.

"Why?"

"Just fuckin' do it. I'm going to go get her, she's not safe." He didn't want Steph to panic and he knew he had the tools to take care of trouble himself, he just had to get there in time.

"Okay, shit..yeah okay." she mumbles, hanging up and sending it.

Eddie's phone dings as he leaves his apartment through the window, venom carrying him with extended himbs down the fire escape to his bike. "You remember this okay? You know where this is?" he asks aloud to his partner.

"Yes. Go fast. I will make sure we do not wreck." he says sternly, just as worried about her as Eddie was.

Eddie zips through the streets, and thankfully she isn't too far away. He pulls up, seeing escalades and crotch rockets outside the building in question. He knew this was bad.

"You get me up on the roof?" he asks, and before he can receive an answer Venom envelopes his body and bounds onto the roof to find a place to get a good look.

"Eddie." he growls, looking through a hole in the ceiling, seeing Candy pushed in front of a grouping of men.

"Oh shit." Eddie squeaks. "We gotta get her."

"We have permission to eat these men?"

"Yes, yes, whatever we gotta do. They're bad guys, they're' gonna hurt her." he rushes out. Venom is about to crawl his way discreetly back down the building, but one of the men lay his hands on Candy and shouts in her face, backhanding her and pushing her to the ground. It lights a fire inside him that he only knew from fearing for Eddie. She was theirs and no one got to hurt her. His large fists raised, black obsidian boulders bashing through the weakened place in the roof. One time. Two times and it breaks through, sending debris and a grand distraction down to the floor where he lands on all fours, creating a blockade with Candy behind him.

As if she wasn't terrified enough, her gun already drawn as she's rolled onto the ground, her eyes almost bug out of her head, kicking herself back as she sat on her butt, creating space between her and the monster. A loud shrill screech, an eardrum reverberating roar comes from the inky body of the beast, as it moves faster than she can almost comprehend in her shock, knocking men into walls so hard the cement cracks. It grabs them and bites their heads off, eating some whole as they shoot at it and it goes unphased. She moves quickly, trying to find a place to hide from it and the gunshots. She stays low, not wanted to chance catching a stray bullet and hides behind a pile of crates, covering her head and trying to control her breathing.

The chaos stops. The screams cease and an eerie quiet comes across the large open space. Her eyes haven't blinked since the creature appeared, her breathing shaky and uneven as her hands shook.

"Candy?" she hears the low, bass filled voice ask.

She gulps and makes a helpless sound.

"We will not hurt you." it says.

She hears the feet padding towards her slowly. She takes a deep breath, a loud gulp and with balled fists she wills herself to turn to face the source of the reassurance. She's shaking, but she's trying not to. WIth her jaw tight she lowers her brow, trying to appear more in control, slowly standing and turning, finding herself face to face with a giant quivering mass of black, white veins pulse and squirm across the broad expanse of its humanoid form. It stands nearly seven feet tall, built like an action figure with large and bulky limbs, it's hairless head with large slanted, opalescent eyes focus and blink as it looks at her. A mouth opens to speak, revealing a mouthful of teeth she'd only ever dreamed of being in the mouth of some megalodon dinosaur shark from her childhood nightmares.

With the reveal of it's most certainly lethal jaws, she whimpers and stumbles backward into a crate, not falling but the look of terror clear on her face. Venom slumps his posture, retreating it's forward-leaning stance as Eddie is telling him he's scaring her.

"Candy." he states again.

"Wh-wha what...? You?" she squeaks out. "What are you? You know my name?" she says with more confidence, leaning forward slightly, eyes not leaving it's as she tries to wrap her head around what she's seeing. She must've gotten hit in the head and this is all a hallucination. Some strange thing that happens when you're in a coma or something of that nature. But it felt real. It sounded real.

"Yes we do." he says simply, more quietly.

"We? Are there...oh shit are there other ones...oh god." she rushes out looking to the door and the windows quickly, backing against a wall and her chest starting to rise and fall quickly again.

"Yes. But none like us. They are not here. They cannot hurt you." he says, it's fingers that point into claws, rest at its sides.

"Are you gonna hurt me?" she rasps out and the sound hurts Eddie deep in his chest.

"No. Never. Eddie would never allow it." he says with a slow shake of his head.

"EDDIE?!" she says loudly, her chin hutting back into her neck in surprise at the mention of his name. "Whatthefuck? Eddie? How the fuck do you know Eddie?" she says quickly, her mouth open and her eyes worried.

"We...are Eddie. We are Venom." he says, it's massive paws moving to its chest.

"Lemme see her, you're scaring the shit out of her, man, change back." Eddie says from inside the symbiote's protection. He slowly soaks back into Eddie's skin, shrinking back down into the familiar form she knew and loved.

She stands with her mouth agape, her face contorting through several emotions, mainly different expressions of shock and confusion. "Eddie?" she whispers, eyes darting around the room again, checking to see if this was some glitch in the matrix she was experiencing because she was having a hard time comprehending that this could be real.

"Yeah. Uh...hiya Candy." he says with a reluctant wince, holding his hands up as if he were surrendering.

She blinks fast and stutters, mouth opening and closing like a fish as she can't find words to express herself.

"I guess there's somethin' I should tell ya." he says rubbing the back of his beck and grinning nervously.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" she shouts, not angry, feet stomping and fists clenched, her eyes looking him over, head shaking back and forth.

"I can explain." he says with a frown.

"YOU FUCKING BETTER! WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK EDDIE?!" she screeches, moving closer, head guiding the way as she confronts him.

Venom's head with it's vein like attachments to Eddie's body forms and slithers up near his head and she makes a nervous noise and backs away again. "We uh..." Eddie swallows and smacks his lips. "I." he says putting his hands to his chest.

"We." Venom says, looking to Eddie.

"Yeah uh...both of us. We're this thing. Together."

"Uh huh?" she says with a mixed look of confusion and uncertainty.

"I am a symbiote. An alien from another planet. I was brought here. Eddie and I have bonded. I need him to live on your planet. We help each other. We are one in the same now. Together, we are Venom." he explains slowly and calmly as Eddie is swimming over his head in guilt at how terrified he'd made her.

"Venom?" she asks flatly, addressing the alien head, trying to take in its words and make sense of them.

"Yeah, that's his name." Eddie chimes in.

"Our name."

"Our name yeah. When we're together ya know. Like you saw." he gestures to nothing in particular.

"Uh," she says before taking a deep breath, raising her hands up and lowering them to steady herself. "So..." she begins. "An alien life form... this... gooey guy here." she says looking to the head and gesturing with her hand.

"Symbiote." he clarifies.

"This..." she shakes her head in disbelief again."This symbiote." she clarifies. "You're bonded? Like... physically right. LIke symbiotic?"

"Yeah, he needs me to live. I'm his host." Eddie says with a hesitant face.

She stares at them without saying anything for a moment, blinking with her mouth open, eyes shifting between the both of them. "This." she shakes her head quickly and raises her hands. "This is a lot." she says in an offended tone. She turns and takes a few steps, mumbling to herself. "You think you find a nice guy and he's been abducted by a fucking alien." she groans, hand running through her hair as she exhales loudly.

"Not abducted. Chosen. By me. We are extremely compatible. We work as one now." Venom elaborates.

She puts her hands on her hips and looks around the room that's starting to grow dark. "Okay?" she says shrugging. What else was she supposed to say to all this?

"She said we were nice." Venom says with a happier tone. Misreading the context of her statement.

"Not exactly what she meant, man." he mumbles back. "Uh..." Eddie steps towards her and clears his throat. "It's gettin' dark we need to get goin' before more of those guys show up."  he says, hesitantly reaching out to touch Candy's shoulder. He wanted to touch her, to know she was okay, but he'd lost that privilege, for now, he sees as she jumps out of her skin at the feeling, stepping away from him and putting her hands up between them.

She takes a shaky breath, eyes fluttering as she looks at the ground, ashamed of her reaction, but she was still entirely rocked by all this. There were too many questions to even form coherent thoughts. "Yeah. We should." she says softly.

"I got my bike. We could go back to my place? Or yours...whatever you want. I don't wanna make you anymore uncomfortable than I have. I'm sorry about this...you finding out this way. Can you...can you ride with me back?"

"With him?" she asks, pointing to Venom.

"Yeah he...he's been around a while now." he admits, wincing again.

"He has?" she says, eyes growing wide again.

"Yeah, there's...a lot to tell you Candy. And I wanna answer everything. I want you to know everything, okay? Can we get you safe? Can you ride home with me?" he asks reaching out for her.

She nods and lowers her gaze. "Yeah let's...let's go back to my place. I'd feel...better there." she says awkwardly avoiding Venom's staring.

"Quit starin' man, you're making her nervous. Go away for a little bit, we gotta get her home." he says, moving forward with a polite nod to her as he opens the door. Venom dissipates into Eddie and he reaches out for her hand to help her out of the narrow door.

She hesitates and it breaks his heart. She looks at his hand for a moment, and he leaves it still, eyes wide and sad as he watches the fear of him move across her face. She looks up at him, one smooth sweep of her eyes to his before moving back to his hand and finally taking it. -------

They enter her house, she's quieter than he's ever known her to be before. He quickly texts Steph he's got her at home and she's fine so they don't get interrupted. He fills a pack with ice and brings it to her. She looks at him confused.

"For your face." he says sweetly.

"Oh. Right." she shakes her head for a moment. "That." she says, moving to put it against her cheek.

He sits next to her on the love seat, where they'd been so close so many times before. But he keeps his distance this time. She went and changed out of her dirty clothes, already whooshing away in the washer beforehand. They share an awkward silence, the shifting of the bag of ice the only noise.

"You wanna ask me questions?" he finally breaks the silence.

"Yeah I'm just...I'm still shocked. I think. I'm wondering if any of this is happening at all." she admits, not looking at him.

"I  would like to assure you that it is. Most are confused by a new concept such as this. But you are very smart. Ask us questions, we will answer. Then we can lose this awkwardness." Venom states matter of factly.

"Man, why ya gotta bring it up like that it makes it worse."

"It is clear she is uncomfortable. We do not want her to be. This is the solution."

Candy watches their bickering and it humanizes the amorphous goo for her.

"But when there's tension you don't just say there's tension. We can both feel it we know." his face was clear with agitation.

"But this solves the problem."

"It's a matter of tact, man. You gotta know how to handle people and their emotions." he says annoyed.

"You barely have control over yours Eddie. You are in no place to be telling a lifeform with 600 million years of knowledge how to problem solve." he sass's back.

They both hear a tiny huff of a laugh from Candy who is watching them with a much softer face. They turn their heads at the same time and watch her and her subtle smile appear.

"So you have your own, like, personality and stuff, huh?" she says, making eye contact with Venom. This was good, Eddie thought. This was progress.

"Yes. I am a culmination of all I have learned from all my hosts and all their interactions and knowledge they hold."

"So Eddie isn't your first."

"No. There have been many others." he keeps his voice soft.

"Why did you come to earth?"

"We were taken by a man you know as Carlton Drake. I escaped. The others that came with me...died."

"Carlton Drake?" she asks, looking at Eddie.

"Yeah. Venom here was a part of the big takedown of the Life Foundation."

"Oh?" she says surprised.

"I found Eddie when he broke in. We bonded, living with him made me see things from a different perspective. Together we saved the planet. We stopped my team leader from returning home to bring others to Earth."

She blinks and looks back over to Eddie. "Save earth? When you broke in?" she asks, tilting her head with an accusatory tone.

"Yeah... I uh..." he shrugs, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Tell her Eddie. No secrets. You said no secrets when she found out about us."

"I would appreciate no secrets. No secrets is going to be the only way I don't break up with you for this." she states rather coldly. And he suspected he deserved it.

"Remember when I said I was sick?" he begins with a weary voice.

"I fucking knew you weren't sick." she says with narrowed eyes and pursed lips.

"Yeah. I'm sorry I lied. But, it was I'm sick or I have a symbiote who needs to eat people to survive now."

"He didn't want to lose you." Venom interjects.

"Oh, c'mon man." Eddie mumbles and looks away.

Candy's resolves falters, with Venom's admission.

"A scientist came to me, tellin' me I was right about what I was accusin' Drake of... the stuff that got me blacklisted. I wasn't gonna do anything about it, but people were dyin' Candy. They were takin' homeless people and testing on them and they were dyin' and it wasn't fair. He was insane, he really was." he says and sighs. "I wanted to prove myself. To you and to everyone else. I could redeem my name, get my life back if I could get in there and get proof."

"He wanted to be better... for you." Venom once again interjects with what really should be said but what Eddie was too afraid to admit. Once again Candy's heart softens.

"I.." he slumps and meets her eyes with his ashamed ones. "I did." he nods and looks away. "I wasn't gonna get any better livin' how I was. And you deserved better... and you knew that and I didn't see any other way to be worth your time unless I was somebody again."

"When I told you I thought you should get your shit together...breaking into the Life Foundation isn't what I meant." she says with a sigh.

"I know I just. I had to. I couldn't keep livin' in the shadow of it." he shakes his head.

"This is the part where I come in." Venom gives what he thinks is a smile and she sheepishly returns it.

"Yeah, I broke in with the doctors help and then it all happened real fast... Venom bonded to me, we escaped, I tried to go to Anne to have her tell somebody about what I saw. I had pictures, proof."

"You went to Anne?" she asks with a much less enthusiastic voice.

"She was a big lawyer, she had connections no one else did. What I did to Drake got her fired too cause we were togehter and I got the information from her so she was a victim in all this too 'cause 'a me." it all comes spilling out and it's an odd pleasurable pain to feel, coming clean.

She looks to Venom to see if he's lying, as he seems to be the one telling her the full truth. "This is true. She was the only one that coule help us. Eddie hurt her, she deserved the redemption as well." he states simply.

"Her new boyfriends a surgeon, and I was acting all kinds of crazy. All that was true that I told you, about the..." he pauses, "parasite..." he whispers " but it was because of him." he nods to Venom. " I didn't know what was happening to me and I wasn't in control and we were fighting for control and Dan, that's his name, Dan, he took me and tried to get me better. But when I got back home Drake's men came after me. There was a big chase-"

She interrupts his story. "Holy shit that bike chase was you." she says with wide concerned eyes.

"Oh yeah it was fuckin' nuts Candy, I tell ya. I almost died. I broke my legs and my arms and it was crazy." he rushes out.

"Broke your legs and arms? What?" she asks with a tilt of her head.

"I healed him." Venom states and she blinked fast at him.

"Healed him?" she inquires.

"Yes. I can control Eddie's bodily functions if I wish. I can heal him when he is hurt."

"Oh. Wow." she says, impressed. "That's...that's really helpful." she says looking to Eddie.

"Yeah, it's a perk."

"So if you got hurt... like someone hurt you, he could heal it?" she asks Eddie.

"Yes. We almost died. Taking down my team leader to keep Earth safe."

They both see the sadness in her eyes and the mutual feeling of relief to see it still there and also the fact that she was feeling it made them shift anxiously.

"You almost died?" she whispers, reaching out to touch his knee and she doesn't even think about it.

"Yeah I got speared through the chest...actually." he laughs nervously.

"You fucking what?" she says with a wrinkle of her nose. "But you can't even tell you..no scars or anything." she says looking to his chest.

"I healed him. I keep him running if I am fed."

"That's another thing..." Eddie begins. "He needs this chemical, phenylethylamine to function. And it's found in things like chocolate and what not but it's best if it's in the form of...well..." he winces.

"Brains. Human brains." Venom says what's hard to Eddie to discuss.

"That why you...ate those guys back there?"

"Yes. And because they hurt you. We would not allow anyone who hurt you and get away with it." Venom elaborates and the corner of her mouth turns up into a smile.

She shifts her eyes over to Eddie. "It's true." he says with those puppy eyes she's weak to.

"So you got your job back because the truth about the Life Foundation came out, and I'm guessing those first breaking photos were ones you took, right?"

"Right."

"And you didn't take credit for it?"

"I wanted to be finished with it.  I don't want anything to do with that place again." he says with a slow shake of his head.

"But...aren't they gonna want him back?" she points to Venom.

"All of those who knew are dead."

"Oh." she says with wide eyes. "All of them?"

"Yes. We did not kill them though. For the record." he adds.

Candy lets out a little chuckle, an alien using human turns of phrase struck her as funny at the moment.  "Well, that's good. I guess. For us." she shrugs and lets out a noisy sigh.

"Us?" Eddie can't help but blurt out.

"Well yeah. I mean...So, me, you, Anne and...?"

"Dan."

"Dr. Dan know about Venom, and they aren't gonna tell anyone since they haven't yet so that ties up the loose ends."

Venom lets out a low laugh. "I like her. She is so logical." he smiles.

"Thanks." she nods. "So are you."

"Except when he's hungry. He's an asshole when he's hungry." Eddie clarifies.

"So...you've been with Eddie for months then."

"Yes."

"Which means..." she sighs and knits her brow. "You've been with him when we've..." she tilts her head.

"Yes." Venom clarifies.

"Uh huh. That's a little weird. I would've liked a heads up before you unknowingly roped me into a threesome ya know." she says with an only half joking pout.

"Yeah. I...I'm sorry about that too. But...I didn't want to tell you because this is..." he makes an unsure face.

"Fucking insane?" she clarifies with a grin.

"Exactly."

"He did not tell you because he did not want you to leave us. He won't' say it. I will for the sake of keeping him happy. We really like you Candy. I have wanted to interact with you for a long time."

"Well he's lucky I'm an idiot who has a soft spot for other idiots apparently," she says with a smirk to Eddie who accepts the criticism gladly.  "I get why you didn't tell me but...you should have." she states obviously.

"Yeah. I'm sorry. I didn't exactly know how to bring up this whole situation."

"Yeah." she sighs.

"I told him to tell you sooner." Venom interjects.

"Seems like I owe you a thank you...Venom." she says. "I don't know if I should like, shake your hand or something?" she chuckles. "You saved my life back there...do you even have hands? What's this sharing a body situation like?" she asks in a much more casual way.

"Complicated." Eddie says.

A oozy tendril emerges from the stringy body that flows behind Venom's formed head. "We can shake hands. I would like to touch you." he says a tentacle forming solid and splitting into a hand shape.

"Don't be weird, man." Eddie says, swatting the reaching limb away.

"No, it's okay. I mean..." she shrugs. "I would be lying if I said I wasn't curious." she admits.

"She is honest Eddie. I like her." Venom almost coos.

"Thanks." she says, holding out her hand.

Venom reaches out slowly, closing the space between them. The feel reminded her of a snake, you expect one thing out of it, cold and clammy, but it's warm and soft instead. It's solid but it had give under her fingers as she gripped it, moving her hand up and down and watching as the blackness moved around her hand. It changes from a shake, pushing between her fingers, wrapping it's formless hand around her like it was interlacing its fingers with hers, it felt affectionate and soft, encasing her fingertips and lapping around her wrist. It didn't hurt, it wasn't unpleasant but it was strange. "You are so soft, Candy." Venom says, little tentacles stroking the back of her hand lovingly.

"So are you." she says with a shifting brow of interest. "You're a lot warmer than I expected."

"You are smoother than I expected." he retorts and she smiles.

"So you just lay in wait in Eddie'ds body while we..." she quirks a brow.

"Yes. I feel what he feels, in every way. Every sensation, every thought, every feeling."

"It's annoying." Eddie says with a  frown.

"I don't know..." she shrugs, pulling her hand back and Venom heeds her wishes. "That seems sort've...nice." she shrugs, her voice inflecting upward.

"See. She gets it Eddie. I told you she would."

"Yeah but she doesn't have to live with you all the time. Just wait." he says rolling his eyes as Venom moves to nuzzle his face against Eddie's. Candy lets out the first laugh since the shock of learning about him, and it melts them both to hear it, to know there was hope for normalcy again for them. As strange as normal had become for them.

@hardygal69 @raceylacy @emerald-bijou @negansdirtygirl22 @brianaisasongbird @vale0413 @izzy-the-ginger @chortletortoise @onomatopoetic-aesthetic @anrm1 @jademox @nightcraver @venomous-possibiities @tinastarkandco @chipster-21

[todisturbtheuniverse]

FIC: Green Sauce

Rating: T Fandom: Stardew Valley Pairing: Shane/Female Farmer Tags: Pre-Relationship, Pre-Friendship, First Meeting Word Count: 3100 Summary: Routine is the only thing keeping Shane staggering forward. Interruptions threaten what little momentum he has, and there's no interruption worse than a gregarious farmer. Also on AO3.

Shane’s head throbbed, and the grinding noise that the conveyor belt had started making two hours ago wasn’t helping. It seemed to only be getting louder, though the belt itself churned onward, pushing box after box toward him, relentless.

It hadn’t slowed. It would never slow. So long as there was a truck attached to one end of it, it would never stop. He had been in this room damn nearly daily over the last two years, and never once had he seen the belt shut down. The back room was always filled with the soft whir of its movement. Forging onward.

Despite the pounding in his head, and the vague taste of alcohol at the back of his throat, and the nausea churning in his stomach, he moved around the conveyor belt in practiced motions. He could do this in his sleep, now. The belt did the hard work of reading and sorting for him; all he had to do was replace the bins when they got full, and take whatever product was in them out to the floor to stock.

Someday, Joja would dispense of his manual labor entirely. They would run conveyor belts through the entirety of their stores. Tiny, agile, metal arms would emerge at the appropriate point to drop products onto shelves. No humans would touch anything made by Joja.

That fleeting vision felt like a fever dream—or maybe just an inebriated one. It faded as quickly as his mind's eye had provided it, replaced once again by the ache in his head.

He was just about to take a cart full of Joja-Os—and other variations of cookies, crackers, and cereal, all with Joja somehow worked into the name—when the conveyor belt let out an unexpected, unwieldy clunk and jolted to a stop.

He stared at it, waiting. This had to be just a momentary hitch; it would move again any moment. But seconds passed, more and more of them, and the belt didn't move. It felt as if the entire world had jerked to a halt, stopped rotating; that was how unlikely the conveyor belt’s demise seemed.

Then, from far away, all the way at the loading dock at the other end of the warehouse, a voice shouted, “Hey! We’re going to get behind schedule!”

He considered—strongly—the merits of continuing out to the floor. Letting the next person who walked into the back room deal with the problem. Maybe it would be Sam. Maybe it would be Morris. Shane would love to see that greasy face contorted with horror at his precious productivity thwarted.

But if anyone found out he’d just walked away from a problem—well, he doubted he’d get fired, but it wouldn’t look good for him. He couldn’t afford to look bad.

No matter how much his head was killing him.

He cleared the worst of the rasp from his throat and called back, “Something’s wrong with the belt. I’ll take a look.”

He left the cart by the door and went to examine the spot where that last, resounding clunk had originated.

“Hurry up,” the driver urged. “If I’m late to my next stop...”

“Cool it,” Shane muttered, not loud enough to be heard. He thought he could see the problem. Something had gotten caught in the mechanism—judging by the cardboard shreds littering the gears, it was one of those pre-packaged dinners or burritos or something. He peered through the mess and located exactly that: some kind of small, cardboard box, wedged deep.

He began to reach in to try to tug it out, but before his hand could get really deep in the guts of the machine, he pulled it out. As far as he knew, as soon as he loosened it at all, the mechanism would grind back to life—and grind his fingers up in the process.

“You know how to turn this thing off?” Shane called, looking around for an obvious switch.

A face appeared in the back of the truck. It came as a shock, seeing as it was kind of like looking in a mirror: the same ill-fitting uniform, the same uneven five o’clock shadow, the same dark circles under the eyes. The driver’s hair color was hidden under his cap, and Shane knew, logically, that there were obvious differences—the shape of the nose, the set of the eyes—but he saw in the graying stubble exactly what fifteen, twenty more years working for Joja would do to him.

If he had a grave, someone had just walked over it.

“It doesn’t turn off,” the driver said. There was a wildness about his eyes, a frantic desperation to move this along. “They never turn off.”

Shane glanced around again, looking for something that could help. The shelves back here were littered with all kinds of things...aha. There. A battered old toolbox sitting back on one of the shelves, dingy red, forgotten. He opened it up and dug around inside. The faint smell of oil wafted up from within; he fought down a gag, swallowing hard, and came up with a sufficiently sized wrench.

If he jammed it in the gears, he could get the cardboard thing out without getting his hand caught.

“I hope,” he muttered, returning to the mechanism and kneeling down beside it. Raising his voice, he said, “You think this thing can cut through metal?”

“Maybe?” the driver replied. “Seen these things cut through all kinds of stuff. Can’t believe anything made it stop.”

Shane wedged the wrench into the mechanism, reached a hand behind it, and began to pull at the little box. As pieces came free, the gears shifted. Groaned. Tried to move, straining against the wrench that now bound them. He worked at the box, beginning to sweat. Much as he’d love to take a settlement from Joja—it would probably be decent—he also wanted the continued use of his hand. With all fingers intact.

Finally, the box came fully free. There was an anxious instant as Shane pulled it from the bowels of the machine as quickly as he could, while the gears strained against one another, churning toward his vulnerable fingers—and then his hand and the box were both out, and some kind of green sauce was leaking from the pulverized food item all over his hand. The wrench continued to hold the gears in place, but the whole contraption squealed in outrage.

With a quick pull, Shane reclaimed the wrench. It had been dented by the gears.

This whole place was about a hundred time more dangerous than he’d believed.

Returning to the old, quiet whirring, the conveyor belt jolted back to life. Boxes began to move. The driver yelped and scrambled out of the way before he could be mowed down by a stack of six-packs.

On the dirty floor of the warehouse, Shane managed a grim, amused smile. His allotment for the day. His ounce of flesh, taken, somehow, from Joja.

“You’re welcome,” he called, as the driver scrambled back to his seat without so much as a thank you, and got up to toss the green-sauce-leaking-box into the trash. Plenty of spoiled food in there already. More wouldn’t even be noticed.

All this commotion, and Morris hadn’t even come to see what was going on. Probably for the best, but Shane couldn’t help but feel a pang of resentment. If Morris didn’t even care about his precious machine—if he wasn’t even going to notice—then why should Shane?

He glanced at the old, schoolroom-esque clock hanging on the back wall. It didn’t matter, really. It was finally time for him to leave.

He washed the weird green sauce off his hands, stepped into the employee locker room—little more than a bank of decrepit lockers and a cracked tile floor with a bench he didn’t dare sit on—and changed out of the ill-fitting uniform. Hunching into his sweatshirt, he slouched out the back door, all the better to avoid Morris.

The grassy, early-evening scent of the valley hit him, hard enough to ramp up his nausea a little before it faded back again. It was better than that oil smell from the toolbox, at least. Better than the weird green sauce and all the other spoiled food scents that filled the Joja warehouse. He breathed deep, steadying himself, and began the walk to the saloon.

He didn’t think much about it. He’d done enough thinking, these last ten minutes. Filled up the quota for the week. There was no twinge of guilt about going to the saloon instead of going home. Instead of checking in on Jas. Marnie could handle her. She was better at it, anyway, and the vague foul taste of alcohol in his mouth had turned into a thirst instead. There was no resisting that call. Already, the Event—the unstoppable conveyor belt, stopping—had faded to the back of his mind. Soon to be summarily forgotten, he expected. Just like every other minor blip in his relentless routine.

As he pushed open the door to the saloon, however, he encountered yet another blip.

He had lived in Pelican Town, deep in Stardew Valley, for two years. The local populace was small and set in their ways. They didn’t appreciate interruptions to their routines. Oh, sometimes they took to outsiders—if they were friendly, at least. Willing to embroil themselves in the local customs and become a part of the community. If you wanted to go about your business, buy the occasional item from the General Store and keep quiet through the transaction, you got a judgmental glare and a mutter as you made your way out.

But he still knew the names of everyone who came to the saloon on a Tuesday night; he knew where they would sit. If he paid a little more attention, he would probably know what they drank. He doubted they were asking Gus to mix up anything new and exciting. This was a beer-and-ale kind of place, not the sort of establishment where you found cocktails, no matter how many dusty bottles of spirits Gus had up on his shelf.

They were exactly like all the boxes and packages and bins on the conveyor belt. They all had their places, and they went right to them, just as if some cosmic hand—or unfeeling machine—had put them there.

Point being: there was a new addition to the saloon. A green sauce in the machinery.

He’d never seen the woman before. She was sitting at the bar counter, hand curled around a shiny copper mug, and chatting amiably with Gus as if she’d known him her whole life. Gus was nodding and smiling along like he’d known her his whole life. Emily, too, was standing nearby, wiping down a glass and wearing her usual cheery smile as she listened to the newcomer.

Shane had slipped into an alternate timeline, apparently. The conveyor belt stopping had been the divergence.

There was no reason to alter his plans. Gus knew a paying customer when he saw one. Maybe he was having a nice conversation, but conversations didn’t produce money.

Sure enough, Shane slouched up to the bar—at the opposite end from this little conversation—and Gus immediately noticed. “Emily,” he said, but it wasn’t necessary, not really; Emily set down her glass, said goodbye to the newcomer, and stepped over to the other side of the counter, where Shane was waiting.

“What’ll it be?” she said, cheerfully as ever, and exactly what she said every night, without fail. Never mind he’d been drinking the same swill for two years. “Gus got a new stout in—Northern Tundra. Hints of molasses.”

It was nice of her to pretend he was a connoisseur drinker, and not just an alcoholic.

“Just the Stardrop,” he said, like he said every night. It was the cheapest. Well, setting aside what he could get in cans at Joja, at least. But it was more acceptable to do the bulk of his drinking at the saloon—not at home, where Marnie could find all the empty cans, or by the lake, where someone might happen across him. Here, he was in the right place for his activity of choice.

“You got it,” she said, not put off by the way he’d ignored her recommendation in the least, and went to fill up a mug.

This whole conversation had required laser focus—a focus he paid for when a voice beside him said, “Hey,” and he nearly jumped out of his skin.

Gus and the new woman had drifted down to his end of the bar. An odd, spicy, citrusy scent drifted up from her mug, and she looked at him with a small smile.

“I don’t think we’ve met yet,” she said. “I’m Lydia. Just moved into the old farm west of town.”

She stuck out her hand—presumably for him to shake. He stared at it. Hadn’t anyone told her yet? Newcomers didn’t talk to him if they wanted to fit into this tiny, insular community. Gus should’ve warned her.

“I don’t know you,” he said. Rudely. As rude as he could make it. “Why are you talking to me?”

He could feel Gus’s glare, scorching the side of his face. This is your fault, he thought, silently. You didn’t do her the favor, so now I have to.

Usually, people were either offended or cowed by Shane’s attitude. Everyone in Pelican Town had learned by now that no overtures of friendship—or nosiness, call it what it was—would get him to divulge anything.

But Lydia didn’t huff and turn away, or hunch her shoulders and scamper off; she picked up his hand, gave it two firm shakes, and dropped it. He was so surprised that he didn’t think to pull away until she’d already let go, and then he looked like an idiot snatching his hand out of midair as if he’d been burned. She didn’t once look away from his face; her smile didn’t falter; and her steady hazel eyes seemed like they were trying to bore a hole right through his brain. He found himself unable to look away. It felt, somehow, like she was challenging him.

“Well, you know me now,” she said lightly. “I’m trying to get acquainted with everyone in town, since I’m new.” She raised an eyebrow. “You do live here, right?”

“‘Course he does,” Gus said, depriving Shane of the joy of delivering a truly blistering, awkward silence. “Don’t get any tourists round here this time of the year. This is Shane. Marnie’s nephew. You know Marnie?”

“Of course,” Lydia said, still looking at Shane. “She brought me Archimedes.”

For a moment, even Gus seemed flummoxed by this. Shane allowed the silence to go on. He certainly wasn’t about to ask.

He knew Lydia’s type. Give her an inch, she’d take a mile. She’d already shown no compunctions about forcing a handshake. What next? Regular small talk?

“Archimedes?” Gus ventured, finally.

“He was a stray, poor thing. Marnie thought I could use a dog on the farm. I call him Archie, for short. Only when he’s feeling silly.”

Gus laughed—a sound of relief, if Shane wasn’t mistaken. “Oh. Of course. Your granddad always had a dog too. Sometimes two or three. Said the sheep liked the company.”

“Exactly,” Lydia said, finally breaking the staring contest she was having with Shane to flash a smile at Gus.

As luck would have it, Emily arrived at that moment with Shane’s beer. He passed his money over with relief and turned away, ready to beat a hasty retreat to his usual table by the fire now that Lydia’s attention had been briefly diverted.

There was something unnerving about her eyes. It felt as if he’d been trapped by them, like they were the origin point of some sinister tractor beam. He’d never had trouble walking away from anyone before.

He didn’t want to stay and risk a repeat performance. Definitely not.

“It was nice to meet you,” she said to his back.

He hustled away without responding, though not fast enough to miss Gus’s low comment. “Sorry about that. I should’ve warned you he can be kind of...unfriendly.”

Shane snorted to himself. If she had a reply to this, though, he missed it; he was well away from the bar counter now, close enough to the fireplace that the crackle of flames swallowed low conversations that were half a room away. With disproportionate relief, he took his seat.

He worried—maybe unreasonably, a paranoia born of wanting to be left the fuck alone all the time, no exceptions—that she’d wrap up her conversation with Gus and follow him over here. She seemed like the type. Not cowed or offended by his attitude, but considering it a challenge, something to overcome.

But though he stole covert glances at her over the rim of his mug for the next hour, she didn’t once look his way again. Emily brought over a refill; he drank this one more slowly, letting the rosy warm glow begin to kindle deep in his stomach, fueling his general surliness. By the time Lydia pushed her strange copper mug across the bar and said good night to Gus, he’d amassed an arsenal of scathing comments to send her scurrying away, and she hadn’t given him cause to use a single one.

She crossed the saloon, saying quiet good-nights to the acquaintances she’d made, all in an hour’s time. The smiles and words she received in return were guarded, but intrigued. What a perfect story. Girl moves to grandfather’s farm, is immediately accepted by community. Fucking heartwarming. But not him. She wouldn’t say goodbye to him. He wasn’t part of the community. She didn’t need his approval.

At the door, she glanced over her shoulder. As if she’d known exactly where he was sitting all along, her eyes immediately caught his. No hesitation, no searching. She gave a little smile, just a crook at the corner of her mouth, and waved. Before he could do more than narrow his eyes at her, she was out the door and into the night.

Just wait, he thought, gulping down another swallow of beer. If you thought that was rude, you haven’t seen anything yet.

He had no patience for green sauce in the machinery. No room for nosy new girls in his routine. A few more interactions like that, and she'd be steering clear of him, just like everyone else.