#i still feel like i manifested the dangerous gift into reality somehow

[billymayslesbian]

im not into wings of fire anymore but i still follow the tag and get unreasonably happy whenever i see lynxfall. like. i created you.

[flickeringart]

Minor aspects

While the nature of the major aspects in astrology is quite straightforward and has been covered more than sufficiently, there’s still a lot of fog surrounding the nature of the minor ones. There are a lot of minor aspects that can be taken into consideration when interpreting a chart… however, since they are labeled minor they won’t be as obvious and much more difficult to spot in one’s own life. Note that this doesn't mean that they aren't impactful. There’s a lot of speculation and vague terms used when describing them. It seems that every minor aspect is said to have a “spiritual/creative dimension” as if that is supposed to clear up any of the mystery surrounding them. Perhaps, on one level, we don’t want to pin them down too much because certainty is the enemy of exploration. Or perhaps it’s the case that the aspects themselves don’t want to be pinned down? There’s an appeal in keeping certain things mysterious in our lives, to avoid defining and putting rigid labels on phenomena. It makes life alive and beautiful. Many people dismiss astrology is because they are afraid that they’re going to be reduced to a set of characteristics and have their personality mapped up to the point of being able to predict and foresee patterns of behavior and fated themes. The fear of knowledge is not irrational; it is probably healthy to an extent. Knowing too much can be dangerous and rob life of its magic. “Curiosity killed the cat”, as the saying goes. However, this is not the whole truth because curiosity also leads to expansion and better understanding, so let’s not be afraid to concretize these aspects, it's not the same as "killing" their potential. Life is never completely in our hands anyway, there's no risk of knowing it all.

Quintile (72°)/Bi-quintile (144°)

These aspects are said to have something to do with individual style and quality of creative work. It is suggested that these aspects say something about a mental-creative process of imposing one’s mind on a particular subject. It is also linked to talent and gifts the individual would possess that have not been actively learned. Basically, it seems to be indicative of the particular way a person would approach a subject. For example, the quintile would not describe the activity itself - the activity could be painting, knitting, running, cleaning or whatever – the quintile/bi-quintile would point to the way the person approaches the activity.

For example, Ted Bundy (whose chart I’ve explored a bit here), has Neptune bi-quintile the MC. Neptune, being the planet of illusion hints to Bundy’s quality of being a chameleon, deceiving the public as part of his personal style.

Prince Harry, (whose chart I’ve touched upon before), has his Moon bi-quintile Neptune. The Moon can be indicative of the mother figure, and his mother Princess Diana certainly had an elusive style and charm that was a bit deceptive and seductive. Of course, he would have the same thing going in his own life but it would perhaps be difficult for us to spot. He also has Moon quintile Venus and he definitely has a style/quality of emotional-physical comfort. He has Pluto quintile the AC, which would point to a style of showing up in the world that is powerful and intense. He has a tendency to come off as destructive and chaotic at times. There’s also a quintile aspect forming between Mercury in the 8th house and the MC which would hint to a public image that is colored by the “taboo” things he has said about his family in the recent present, but also in the past. He’s a public image that is aligning with the style of the playful amoral trickster.

As I’m going with charts I’ve already explored, let’s look at the quintiles in Meghan Markle’s chart. Her Venus is quintile Uranus and it perfectly describes her style of “wokeism”, that is, appearing to be objective and intelligent about feelings and affective values. She has a style of being “the loving humanitarian”. Whether she is this way in an actual sense is debatable. The quintile aspect is describing the quality and style not the actuality. But, it is disturbingly close to reality that it somehow becomes reality. It’s like the actor who adopts another energy signature in order to portray a different person. It doesn’t really matter if a person is rotten at the core - if he has a loving way of being, what difference does it make? The style is real enough to not reflect and give the impression of love.

Semi-square (45°) / Sesquiquadrate (135°)

These aspects are said to precipitate events. The nature of these two aspects is more immediate than the square aspect (which causes tension and doubt and needs constant navigation). The conflict represented is usually unconscious and is therefore not easy to identify. However, as these conflicts tend to manifest quite abruptly, we can take a look at the concrete problems the person faces. The planets connected by a semi-square/sesquiquadrate aspect will be in conflict but force some kind of release (that may result in an accident because of it’s autonomous/unconscious function).

I have Saturn sesquiquadrate my Moon. Since I tend to unconsciously block my emotional responses, the pressure builds and I am “forced” to get out of a situation, “forced to listen to my emotions”. I have encountered the theory that the sesquiquadrate in particular is manifesting as something that is looked down upon societally. This would make sense considering the aspect forces a breakout of one of the planets and nothing that is immediate and abrupt is ever favorably looked upon when it comes to social-societal structure and predictability. I have been meaning to take on commitments that would further my status in society in terms of formal education (Saturn in the 9th conjunct the MC) but I have not been able to do it without considerable decline in my emotional well-being. So, I have been “thrown out” by unconscious forces every time I’ve tried.

My sister has her Venus sesquiquadrate Saturn. She’s known for her deliberate and strategic way of dressing. She plans her outfits carefully, there’s nothing haphazard about the way she presents herself. However, she has Lilith conjunct Venus so she can push the limits and simply do what she pleases sometimes as well when the pressure of Saturn becomes too much. But, this often causes external judgment. A relative of mine has her Sun semi-square Venus. I can tell that she’s highly aware of her appearance. She is very pretty but there’s always something that is a bit off between what she wears and her self-expression. It’s like it doesn’t quite fit and it’s irritating.

To get back to the celebrities, Meghan Markle has Neptune sesquiquadrate Mercury. Is it possible that this forces distortion and vagueness in opinion and communication? It would certainly fit the bill. She also has Uranus sesquiquadrate Mars. She simply has to “break out of her confining situations”, cut people out of her life and move on in her own way. Uranus is also sesquiquadrate her MC, which seems to point to her unconscious pull to “do what she wants to do” at the detriment of her public image and reputation. Notably, Uranus sits in her 5th house of personal enjoyment and creation.

Prince Harry has a semi-square between Mars and Pluto. When he is angry it blossoms into rage and he can’t see straight. It has gotten him into quite a lot of trouble and societal-social disapproval. It seems that this is a common theme with the sesquiquadrate and semi-square. He also has his Moon sesquiquadrate Jupiter. Isn’t it the case that he tends to indulge in a way that makes him look bad in society?

Quincunx (150°)

This aspect is typically found between planets incompatible by element and mode. Basically, they have nothing in common and have a hard time cooperating, which will cause minor stress in the individual because of necessity to work around the incompatibilities. The planets are not in direct conflict but they are uncomfortable with each other.

For example, I have my Moon quincunx Mercury. Every time I sit down to write I’m mildly disturbed by little things like an aching back, a headache, restless legs or whatever. It’s not very comfortable for me but I can still keep with it, however it might take a toll on me health wise. The quincunx has been related to health issues because of the mild stress that it causes. It is manageable and one is usually able to cope with the stress, but it’s not very pleasant. Because it is not as demanding as more disturbing conflicts in one’s life, it’s in the background causing irritation.

Meghan Markle’s Venus makes a quincunx aspect to her MC. This suggests that she has a hard time reflecting her value on a public level, it’s as if how she’s perceived publicly disturbs her sense of ease and comfort. She has an Aries MC with a Virgo Venus and she’s continuously depicted as a bully these days, as some kind a selfish and aggressive bitch (the more negative attributes of Aries). This must be undermining her self-worth immensely, however, it’s perhaps too minor of a problem to do anything about. It is still there nonetheless, harping on in the background, breaking her down and causing slow disintegration…

Semi-sextile (30°)

Planets forming semi-sextile aspects are said to be able to aid each other, to have a better connection than if they had no link at all. Usually one planet is in the sign that comes before the sign of the other; in other words, a semi-sextile might be forming between Mars in Aries and Venus in Taurus. The semi-sextile usually connects consecutive sign like this, but planets could be in semi-sextile in the same sign, like Mars in 0° Taurus semi-sextile Venus in 30° Taurus. In any case, the planet placed at an earlier degree or in the earlier sign can draw on qualities of the planet in the later degree or the later sign and vice versa. For example, Prince Harry’s Venus in Libra is semi-sextile his MC. He can draw on his sense of harmony a diplomacy to benefit his public image. His Mars in Sagittarius is also semi-sextile his MC, which makes it so that he can draw from his Martial qualities of energy and action to influence his career and success.

Parallel/Contra-parallel

These are called aspects in declination because they are measured by latitude and not by longitude. This essentially means that two planetary bodies can aspect each other in a certain way measuring the distance between them north-south of the celestial equator. Two planets at the same degree north and south of the equator form a parallel aspect and can be interpreted the same as a conjunction (some say that it's more obscure like a quincunx/semi-square). Two planets opposite each other north and south form a contra-parallel aspect and can be interpreted as an opposition (some say that it's basically the same as the parallel though).

I have found, looking at my own chart that these aspects only confirms already existing aspects measured by longitude or it confirms the sign that a specific angle is in. For example, my MC is in Aries and it is also parallel Mars. Mars is the ruler of Aries so it emphasizes my already martial MC. My Sun is conjunct Saturn and it’s also parallel Saturn. My sister has a Scorpio MC and it’s also parallel Pluto, the natural ruler of Scorpio. For example, my sister has a wide Moon-Mars conjunction (6°) but they are also in contra-parallel. How is this supposed to be interpreted? I would simply see it as Moon-Mars is connected strongly despite the orb being a little wide with the conjunction.

However, it’s not always the case that parallel and contra-parallel aspects only confirms already existing influences. They can also add themes and connections. My sister doesn’t have any longitude aspects between Saturn and Uranus but they are contra-parallel to each other.

Septile (51.43° - a 1/7 of the 360°)

It is said to indicate a hidden flow of energy between the planets involved, an inner sensitivity to the spiritual dimension of the planets. Another description I have come across is that the planets “darkly interact” and there’s an occult theme surrounding the connection.

I have Venus septile Jupiter in my own chart. Going by the said method of interpretation, it would mean that I have sensitivity to the hidden wealth and underlying beauty and abundance in life. I think it is quite accurate.

Novile (40° - 1/9 of the 360°)

Is said to be describing a contact of perfection/idealization. It also seems to have something to do with spiritual awakening and growth, lack of fear and freedom.

Having Sun novile Saturn for example could be interpreted as a feeling of communion with the world and life itself through responsibility and the control one can exercise through self-expression.

----

There are of course other minor aspects to explore, but I'll stop here for now.

[astrowithkaro]

Hii, this looks really interesting! Could you talk about the language of May 21st? 💫✨

Language Of Birthdays: May 21 - Taurus

[You can find the rest of the series here; or check out my masterlist]

The Day Of Unfailing Vision

Those born on May 21 not only have far-reaching vision but also the tenacity to hang in there, no matter what. Once engaged in a struggle, they are in it for the duration, no matter how great the difficulties involved. As a matter of fact they love challenge, so if anything, the obstacles they encounter only spur them on. In this respect they are unlike many "idea people" who either give up easily, lose interest or simply move on out of restlessness. May 21 people want to implement their ideas, manifest them in concrete reality. They have a real feeling for the tactile, sensuous and physical elements of life. Most often, their ideas and visions involve a transformation of physical matter.

There is also a strong social involvement indicated on this day. May 21 people are not ivory tower dreamers, but must be in the thick of it, battling with or against society for what they believe is right. Most often, their crusade is of their own making but they can also give themselves selflessly to the causes of others. Indeed, giving is their forte, not taking. They may have quite a bit of difficulty, as a matter of fact, in accepting gifts or help from others. In this, their life is strictly a one man/woman show, for which their work is central. These are not people who need a manager or PR person—they like doing the job from start to finish.

Somehow the money to accomplish their ends comes through, often at the last minute. So great is their confidence in a successful outcome to their endeavors, that the necessary attention and means of support seem to manifest when needed. They can, however, struggle for years and years without achieving success—they can even be laughed at or scorned, but this does not dissuade them from their goals. Dominant personalities, they are never happier than when others are under their direction. Less powerful May 21 people may suffer in silence for a lifetime, having wonderful ideas and talents but never finding how to voice them; sometimes they just settle for a back seat to their partner, siblings or children. Such May 21 people inevitably build up tremendous resentments and self-pity. All they need is the courage to act, and like their more highly evolved May 21 counterparts will likely succeed in their task. Part of the problem for less confident May 21 people is in recognizing where their true talents lie.

At its best, May 21 is a day that confers great gifts of accomplishment and success. Those born on this day, however, must beware of arrogance and egotism or of succumbing to the egoistic temptation of playing the martyr or suffering saint. They may need to periodically examine their personal motives to be sure that they are really as selfless and giving as they seem. May 21 people must also learn that giving and receiving are two sides of the same coin, and that accepting the help of others is also part of being human. Ego problems and all forms of conceit, particularly giving as a kind of condescension from on high, must be guarded against.

Strengths:

Undaunted

Courageous

Successful

Weaknesses:

Egoistic

Un-vulnerable

Stressed

Advice

The great health danger for May 21 people is burnout. Because their dedication is so great and their energy seemingly inexhaustible, they may put irreparable strain on their bodies, and come to recognize the damage too late. Those born on this day often refuse to acknowledge physical limitations, either for themselves or anyone else. Consequently, if they wish to survive beyond their fifties, they must learn to heed the warnings of their bodies or the suggestions of their family, friends or physician. Markedly intense, May 21 people often overstress their nervous system; fortunately this may be one of the strongest and resilient parts of their physical organism. Because May 21 people expend a great deal of energy, regularly scheduled meals are a must. Also short afternoon naps can do wonders if they don't cause sleeplessness at night.

Keep a close watch on yourself; examine your motives

Learn to accept the help of others and be vulnerable occasionally

Attend to small tasks as well as great projects

Remain polite and kind

Rest is important

Hello! I hope this resonated with you. Just wanted to say I'm aware that this is a cusp day between 29 degrees Taurus and 1 degree Gemini but I'll still say it's mostly dominant by Taurus so it's okay if you're actually a Gemini <3

[wombathos]

the lawyer, the witch and the minotaur

Here’s my 2018 Buffyverse Secret Santa gift for @aesthetically-turnt - because I just got really carried away with the concept of a Lilah/Tara pairing (thanks for that prompt). Merry Christmas, and hope you enjoy!

12.5k words, read here on Ao3 or below the cut.

The thing is…

The thing is that Tara has been dead for a while. All things considered, it’s not too bad. Well, she would rather not be dead. Wouldn’t most people? And she had been quite young. And it had all been so very sudden, with Tara standing in the room with Willow - her Willow, reconciled and happy and whole for the first time in forever. She had felt the bullet, in a weird, disembodied kind of way. Thinking back, she wonders whether she had died the moment the bullet impacted. There was an after-bullet: in a vague sort of way she can remember falling down and Willow being there and weeping, but all the pain she would imagine came with a bullet just kind of… didn’t.

And then she was dead.

But now, it’s all soft. And comforting, because there’s nothing here too hurt her. It’s not as much fun as being alive was. It doesn’t hurt either, which is nice. She doesn’t understand exactly what this is, where she is and where she’s going. If she’s going anywhere. There are no gates, no old white guy with a beard. No demons and hellfire either, which she’s sure would come as a surprise to some people. But it is peaceful, and she is grateful for that.

She does miss Willow, though. She hopes that everything turned out all right. Then again, Willow never needed anyone, least of all Tara, to protect her.

***

The thing is that all of this changed. Much like being wrenched out of life in the first place, this is sudden too. That vague nothingness that had surrounded Tara became something - and it’s hard to explain because there isn’t really anything to look at. No swirl of colours, no white blankness either. But now, the nothingness has solidified. It has become a door.

And Tara sees it, even though there shouldn’t really be a Tara who is able to see it. It’s all very confusing, but the door somehow has shifted her perspective. As if the door being something, that forces her to be something too. And she’s staring at the door. Because she can see it. She can see.

That’s when the door opens. That’s when Tara sees the woman standing there, dressed in what she imagines to be quite a fancy suit, with a mane of brown hair falling down and curling up again, looking distinctly unruffled as if this is something she does every day when she stretches out a hand into the nothingness and the shiny pink lips stretch out into a smile.

“Come on then. I don’t have all day.”

***

The thing is, Tara doesn’t know exactly how she ended up on the other side of the door. She looks have a body to cross through the door, for starters. She’s also not sure whether it is her choice. Did she accept the hand? She finds herself staring down at perfectly manicured nails, that hand grasping another one which she ends up recognising as her own. Does that means she chose to go through? Or did the woman pull her through?

“Merry Christmas, Miss Maclay.”

Tara stares at the woman. And she stares some more. And then she reaches for the only word she can think of.

“Huh?”

***

“I suppose it’s arguable whether it’s actually Christmas if you’re dead,” says the woman in a conversational tone as she looks Tara up and down.

Which means… there is a Tara to look at. Tara looks down, takes in grey denim and a thin blue jumper. She was wearing this… She reaches up to her heart, draws her finger away. It is stained red.

“Yes, that is rather unpleasant,” says the woman. “Considering all of this is only corporeal in the very loosest of senses, I suppose you should be able to change that. Focus hard, or something. Isn’t that something witches are meant to be good at? Psychic projection and whatnot?”

“What is this?”

The woman’s smirk broadens. “Good to see you still have some sense about you. It makes all of this easier.”

“What - Tell me what’s going on. Please.”

A titter. “And polite too! It really is Christmas.” The woman adjusts her scarf - soft and purple and carefully wrapped around her neck - seemingly content to make Tara wait just a little longer for anything approaching a proper answer. “Let’s see then. Well, first of all, you’re dead. Now I know this may come as a shock -“

“I know that,” says Tara. “I meant, what is -“ She gestures around her. She gazes around her to see what looks suspiciously like a corridor. “This.”

The woman blinks. “That was easier than I expected. I really thought we’d take longer to get over the whole ‘death’ thing but I guess we can skip straight to the bit where you help me out and then get to go back to whatever you were doing.”

“I - what?”

“You help me out,” repeats the woman, slowly. “Do the world a service, that kind of thing. There’s a few benefits you can secure, too, in terms of insurance against paranormal incursions on your regular death experience. If you’d feel more comfortable signing a contract, then I have several papers prepared too.”

“A contract?” says Tara, able to feel her brain gradually dissolve.

The woman produces a leather bag which she definitely hadn’t had a second earlier and pulls out a thick wad of papers. “Yep. All in order.”

She holds them out. Tara does not accept and instead simply stares at the papers, then at the stranger again.

The woman rolls her eyes. “Oh, there’s no clauses that involve selling your soul or anything. That’s what people always worry about, which is a reasonable thing to worry about but really isn’t necessary. But it’s just to formalise the arrangement, show you what you’re going to get out of it and that you’ll be returned back safely. We can always continue without.”

“Who are you?”

The answering grin is all teeth, some unnerving combination of cocky and dangerous. “Lilah Morgan, attorney at law. Well… I was, anyway.”

***

The thing is, Tara had not expected - as far as she had been expecting anything at all - to be bailed out of limbo or heaven or whatever it had been by a lawyer, of all people. And this lawyer isn’t making a lot of sense: when you’ve just been wrenched back into some sort of a manifestation of a physical reality after an indeterminate time in an inexplicable void, it takes you a little time to be ready to deal with things like contracts again.

Tara isn’t at her best right now. So when the woman - Lilah - tells her to follow her, she does so, without really thinking about it. They are walking along what is indeed some kind of a corridor, bleak with no particularly interesting features that distinguish it from normal corridors of the sort one would come across in the land of the living.

“I’m confused,” says Tara, unnecessarily.

The woman considers her with an air of patience. “That’s understandable. I imagine it’ll take you a bit to wrap your head around all the details.”

Tara is less worried about the ‘details’ than she is about the ‘what the hell is going on’ bit, but she declines to mention this.

“What is this place?”

“I suppose you could call it the afterlife,” says Lilah. “Though that term isn’t particularly useful in an explanatory sense, is it? You are dead, after all. This is after life by definition.”

Tara blinks a few times. “You’re right. It isn’t helpful.”

The woman seems to find this funny. Tara doesn’t.

“Where are you taking me?”

“To a connection point, of sorts. The closest place - well not place since none of this is geographically construed in the regular sense but you know what I mean - to the real world, if you will.”

“You want to… to bring me back?”

“Oh. Well, no. Sorry,” she says, looking genuinely apologetic. A little, anyway. “No, it’s more that we need a place to get the connection straight, so to speak. Give an access to whoever might need it. I’m a little vague on the details myself, if I’m being honest. All I know is that I need to get you there.”

“Why?”

“Long story.”

“I have time.”

Lilah laughs. She seems to do that a lot. “It doesn’t really matter. Come on, we still have quite a way to walk.”

***

But that really isn’t good enough, Tara decides after a few minutes.

She stops.

It takes Lilah a moment to notice, but then she turns around to look back at Tara.

“Is something the matter?”

“What do you want?” asks Tara, deciding to get to the crux of the matter.

Lilah gives her an odd look. “I told you -“

“I want an explanation.”

The odd look deepens, and Tara thinks Lilah might be surprised. After a moment, she sighs.

“Come on, I’ll explain as we walk.”

“No,” says Tara, and saying the word makes it feel like something important has returned to her. She doesn’t know what it is and it probably doesn’t make any sense, but it makes her feel more like herself again. “Explain to me first what you want.”

“Fine,” says Lilah with a shrug that is just a little too casual for Tara’s liking. “I want to undo a spell. Or rather, my employers want to undo one, though for all intents and purposes it’s quite the same thing.”

“A spell?” repeats Tara, unsure of what she had been expecting. “You want to use my magic?”

“I’m not here for your power, I’m afraid,” says Lilah. “Oh, it’s considerable. Don’t get me wrong. Just, in this particular instance, it’s your link to a particular hotheaded force of nature that has gotten the attention of the folks on top.”

Willow.

“What do you want from her?” asks Tara, feeling her fists curl up into tight balls. No way is this woman getting Tara to do anything that would in any way -

“You’re linked. Magically, I mean. She summoned up a great deal of dark magic trying to get you back -“

“She did what?”

“- which kind of leaves its mark. Well, yes. And then went on a bit of a rampage, from what I hear. Anyways, she then went on to do a very specific spell with a whole bunch of consequences which I need you to undo.”

Tara’s mind is still reeling from all this jarring new information so she seizes on to one of the few things she is reasonably sure of. “You can’t just undo spells that have already happened. That’s not how magic works.”

“Not with the living it might not. Here, however? Things are a little more flexible. See, we’re not so much undoing it as making sure that it never happens in the first place.” Lilah winks. “I’ll explain more if you come along.”

She starts walking again and Tara seriously considers for a moment turning around and letting this strange and quite possibly malicious woman wander off on her own. But where would she go? Tara groans quietly, well aware that she simply does not know enough yet. So she follows the woman again, determined to get at the answers she needs.

***

It’s not easy getting anything useful out of the woman, but there’s another quite crucial question that really needs answering.

“Why would I help you?” asks Tara. Because she’s getting quite close to turning around, out of frustration if nothing else. They are still in the corridor, which feels unending. Maybe it is.

“Kindness of your heart?”

Tara just looks at her.

Lilah smirks. “Fine, then. If you want to be all difficult about it…”

“Then what?”

“Then I could always ask you what else precisely you’re intending on doing. You didn’t seem to be very busy.”

“And if I told you I’m sure I’d figure something out?”

“Then I’d have to inform you that my employers rerouted you from your initial final destination - a particularly nasty hell dimension. And if you don’t cooperate… Well, let’s just say there’s some folks who’d be thrilled to have that decision revoked.”

Tara’s heart sinks. She isn’t even quite sure why. Probably because the idea of being sent to a hell dimension doesn’t sound at all appealing, but the alternative of helping a woman she really doesn’t think she should trust isn’t great either.

That’s not all, though. There’s a sense of disappointment, almost. So she had died… and she had been judged… and she had been found wanting.

Which shouldn’t be a surprise, really.

Doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt.

“Do you know… why?” asks Tara quietly, not really expecting an answer.

“Why?” repeats Lilah, glancing at her and then giving her a harder look. “You… Oh, it wasn’t because of anything you did, if that’s what you’re worrying about.”

“It wasn’t?”

Lilah laughs, but trails off at the expression on Tara’s face. “You’re… Look, from everything I’ve heard you were… you know, good. It’s just because of what I said earlier, about your girlfriend using a hell of a lot of very dark stuff to try to suck you back to the material realm. It leaves a mark, and it left one on you too. She summoned powerful demons and did her best to piss them off. When she failed… they were ready to take their revenge.”

If anything, this makes Tara feel worse, as the cold realisation burns her, creeping into her lungs and scratching at the back of her throat. The idea that Willow - her Willow - might have accidentally damned her is too horrible to seriously contemplate. So she takes the only avenue open to her: denial.

“You’re lying.”

The lawyer smirks at her, before shaking her head. “I can’t lie,” she says. “Literally, cannot. I don’t know what it is about this place, but somehow the rules for… communication are different here. Passing on mistruths is a major no no. Makes it so much more tricky in my line of work, I can tell you.”

This is not what Tara wants to hears. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Many things don’t. Sometimes they don’t have to, as long as the overall story works. So accept it and move on.”

“You could be lying about… not - not lying.”

“Right.”

“How do I know you’re not?”

“You could always try lying yourself.”

This strikes Tara as a good idea and she’s irritated at herself for not coming up with it. Given the circumstances, perhaps it is understandable. “I am -“ she starts, then cuts off. She physically cannot bring herself to say the word ‘alive’. It is more than a little disconcerting.

Lilah looks smug. “See? Told you.”

“How do I know it’s affecting both of us?” asks Tara. “For all I know, it’s only me who’s stuck truth-telling while you’re free to lie however you please.”

“You’ll just have to trust me, I suppose,” says Lilah, then chuckles at Tara’s expression. “Even if you don’t think you were headed there already, trust me on this: you will be sent to a hell dimension if you follow me. Just a small job, then you have the rest of forever.”

Tara is about to ask more questions, but Lilah instantly cuts her off, pointing at a door.

“See that?”

She does, but just stares at it before answering. The corridor, that expanse of boring nothingness she had almost believed would end forever, ends there. “Where does it lead?” she asks, not sure if she really wants to know.

“Depends,” says Lilah. She hasn’t stopped walking and they’re getting steadily closer to the door. “Hell, if you head the wrong way.”

“Hell?”

“The underworld proper. When you were… diverted, you were sent to a sort of limbo zone. Thing is, it’s buried pretty deep. Not deep in a geographic sense, mind.”

“But you’re taking me to hell.”

“Hopefully not. There are shortcuts, ways to skip most of it. And on the other end, a connection point. Which is all we need.”

Tara is not following any of this but she doesn’t have time to get any answers, because now they’re at the door. Lilah stretches out her hand to grasp at the handle - which looks all cheap and plastic-y and not particularly important or hellish - before turning around and winking at Tara.

“This should be fun.”

She wrenches the door open.

***

There’s a gust of wind that ruffles their hair when Tara steps through into a kind of cave. She looks around. It’s badly lit, but she heads to the first thing that catches her eye.

A plain wooden door marked with a ‘2’ that shines with an odd green light Tara might have described as neon.

“Not that one,” says Lilah. “Definitely not that one.”

Something in her tone of voice makes Tara back away a bit, and she follows Lilah to an even more unassuming gap in the corner of the chamber. There’s no door, just a place where the stone looks a bit crumbly and the light doesn’t reach. Tara probably wouldn’t even have noticed it.

But before they can slip through the gap, someone appears.

***

He looks like a teenage boy with wild, faintly greasy black hair. His jeans are all ripped up and he resembles a million similar specimen Tara has run into over the years, but he’s wearing a rather silly Christmas jumper with a big, smiling reindeer on it accompanied by the words ‘Jingle Beelz’.

Lilah looks like she’s suppressing a grin. “Hello, Beelzebub.”

Tara makes a small choking sound. When the boy looks at her, she got out - “Beelzebub?”

“What, not live up to your expectations?” asks the boy in an ill-tempered way.

“Eh…”

The boy glares at her. “Go on, then, have a laugh.”

“I wasn’t going to,” she says, quite honestly.

“Oh, I’ve heard it all before.” He grimaces. “It’s bad enough to be stuck in customs for three hundred years without having that arse Mephistopheles deciding that what we really need is another infernal human celebration. What is the point of these jumpers anyway?”

He is looking at Tara as he said this, and Lilah is enjoying herself too much to step in. “They’re… meant to be funny?”

“Funny?” spits the boy. “What’s funny about this monstrosity? People have burnt in hellfire for thousands of years for lesser crimes of fashion.”

“Who came up with ‘Jingle Beelz’?” asks Lilah.

“Gressil,” says the boy bitterly. “And he’s so very friendly with good ol’ Meph these days, of course he thought it was hilarious. Oh, never mind. It’s not like I care what a couple of humans think anyway. Sometimes you just need some meat to talk at, you know?”

“Indeed.”

“And wherever you think you’re going, don’t.” The boy sniffed. “Just so you know. This is as far as you get.”

“What a shame,” says Tara, about to turn around when a firm grip held her in place.

Lilah smiles sweetly at her. “Don’t worry, dear. I’ve got the paperwork.”

The boy eyes them both with a frown, then groans. “Let me guess. Wolfram and Hart?”

“Yes. We met a few years back, actually - at a gala. Don’t think you’d remember… So if you’d just take a look at the file -“

“I’m afraid we’re not able to take requests just at this moment,” the boy intones. “It’s Christmas Eve, you see. Come back, new year of 2103 and I’m sure somebody will be able to process your request.”

“We have a right for audience, especially since you don’t get leave for human holidays,” says Lilah, still smiling at the demon.

The boy gives her a rueful look. “What if we’ve changed the rules?”

“You haven’t. Unless you want me to contact my employers -“

“Fine,” snaps the boy, taking the papers from her. “Thousands of years building up a reputation for leading men astray through their pride and gluttony and then I’m banished here for a simple misdemeanour just to set an example,” he mutters as he flips through them. “I missed the entire industrial revolution, for crying out loud. The demons they send down these days barely make any effort… Don’t even really care about humans…” He looks up, gaze settling on Tara. “You’re a human, aren’t you? Surely, you’d want the demon exploiting your deadly sins and leading your species to its own damnation to really have put some time and effort into the whole thing, right? You’d want someone who actually knows about the societies they’re ruining, right?”

“Eh…” says Tara, not feeling like she is going to get any more articulate any time soon. “Yeah?”

“Exactly. Well, this request is ridiculous. The human died, she’s serving out her RDE. And I’ll note that Wolfram and Hart already got a request through to redirect her from a hell dimension.”

“Like I told you,” mutters Lilah to Tara. To the boy, she says - “This is a short-term engagement. Besides, my employers only brought her here in case they needed her again.”

“That’s not my problem. Rules are rules. I’d be better disposed to your case if you hadn’t already gotten special waivers. Besides, she’s a witch and they don’t ever do anything else than burrow away at the veil between life and death, causing the rest of us no end of trouble. As I once said to my good friend James, a living witch is nothing but trouble.”

“I don’t want to bring her back to life.”

“But you want to bring her into contact with the living. A magical link to a witch? Sounds dreadful.”

“It’s for a good cause.”

The boy snorts. “I very much doubt that. This witch… Willow Rosenberg? Oh yes, I remember her. All sorts of dark magic about this one, seems determined to rip out every dead soul one by one. Awfully blunt about it, too. If you’re trying to sacrifice her then good luck with that, but otherwise…”

“No!” exclaims Tara.

The boy’s dispassionate gaze fixed on her for a moment before he looks back at the file. “Mind you, I did get a taboo-breaker a few years back where she invoked my name… Nothing real, I’m afraid, so I couldn’t actually do anything about it but she did say ‘I worship Beelzebub’ which was rather nice of her… Still, there’s no way I can allow this. So if you could just leave….”

“And what will you put down as your reason for denying the request?” asks Lilah.

Tara suddenly wonders whether squabbling about paperwork with a demon is something this woman does regularly, and then decided that it probably is.

“I don’t need to put a reason,” says the boy. “I made the decision, and that’s that.”

“Actually, you need to make an official declaration. So that we can try to have it overruled.”

There was a moment of silence as the boy considers Lilah with narrowed eyes.

“Do you want to be tortured for all eternity?”

“My soul isn’t up for grabs.”

The boy raises his eyebrows.

“Standard perpetuity clause.”

“Oh, how irritatingly human of you. I don’t actually need your immortal soul, you know - I’m not Mephistopheles. I’d just ram in some hot pokers, cut out your tongue, make your listen to Daft Punk all day. That sort of thing.”

“What’s wrong with Daft Punk?” asks Tara.

The demon looks a little taken aback by the question, but then shrugs. “Nothing, I’m sure. But this one doesn’t like them, so it’s part of the routine.”

Tara looks at Lilah, who shrugs in an apologetic sort of way.

“I just think they’re a bit irritating.”

“Right,” says Tara. She turned to the boy. “And you know her taste in music?”

“I know how to torture her,” he says, sounding increasingly irritable again. “What kind of demon do you think I am?”

“Of course,” she says weakly, pretending like this made sense.

“The point is,” says Lilah, “we have papers. And if you want an inquiry, I can make your life to hell, pun absolutely intended.” That earns her a particularly vicious glare from the demon. “So unless you want to stick around customs for another few centuries, by which time humans will probably already have managed to destroy themselves…” She trails off, voice laden with implications.

Beelzebub glares at her some more. But somehow, that is that.

***

The gap doesn’t lead to some spectacular hell-scape. Instead, it’s more corridor for them.

Tara is almost glad, because she’s not sure she can process anything else just now.

“Are you all right?” asks Lilah, sounding amused.

Tara can’t immediately reply, so settles for nodding.

They walk in silence for a few minutes.

“What was he?”

“Beelzebub? A demon.”

“But he -“

“Not just any old demon. One of the archdemons. I suppose you’d call them Old Ones.”

Tara exhales sharply, earning her another amused look from Lilah.

“Not bad, right?”

“He doesn’t look it. And surely I would’ve heard -“

“He’s been grounded, remember? Trust me, he thinks customs is -“

“But he looked -“

“- beneath him too. Yes, well, some of these demon types enjoy looking ordinary. Side effect of being extraordinarily powerful is that you don’t need to boast about it. The ones that look entirely ordinary? They’re the really dangerous ones.”

Tara thinks about all the demons and other assorted evil she’d faced over the years, and can’t help but think that the scary-looking ones had been dangerous enough already. Then, a new troubling thought strikes her. “What exactly is powerful enough to ground an Old One?”

Lilah shrugs. “They do have their own system, you know. Beelzebub has always been a bit of a rule-breaker, from what I’ve heard. He must have done something to irritate the others enough to keep him confined here.”

This makes sense, but is quickly followed by a new, equally unsettling, thought. “But if you were able to get past him…” A lump formed in her throat. “Who exactly did you say your employers were?”

Lilah’s mouth quirks but she doesn’t answer.

“Wolfram and Hart,” repeats Tara. She has never heard of it, though that doesn’t have to mean much. “Are you -“ She breaks off, incredibly irritated at herself for not having considered this quite obvious possibility earlier. It’s just that Lilah looks so ordinary and…

“Very much human, I assure you,” says Lilah. “Unlike my employers.”

“They’re demons?” A beat. “Old Ones?”

“Something like that.”

“You’re working for demons?”

“Haven’t we all,” says Lilah airily. “They’re not all bad, you know.”

“Old Ones are.”

“But they offer an excellent pension. If you survive to enjoy it.” She chuckles.

“So why didn’t they get me myself? Why send you?”

“Because,” says Lilah, “we’re not quite back to the land of the living yet. This place - I suppose you could call it a limbo. Come and go, in between, here and there and everywhere.” She laughs. “They didn’t have enough power to wrench you back just like that, you see. Now me, I can move a little more freely. Advantages of being undead.”

Undead.

She shouldn’t be surprised. But she is.

***

The thing is, Tara still isn’t quite herself. That’s why she has followed the lawyer down a winding path that is leading to some mysterious new location without protesting. She’s taking way too long to process information.

The corridor is changing, too. Gradually, it’s shifting away from the bland and bleak faux-office design to something quite different. Pebbles are appearing on the ground with increasing frequency and the walls on either side are becoming less smooth, with the occasional rougher stone or protruding rock shedding dust that worms its way up Tara’s nose and makes her want to sneeze. She hasn’t sneezed for a long time.

It’s hard to focus, with everything going on. Easier just to follow this lawyer. But Tara has heard enough to make her uneasy - deeply so.

There are two facts that matter right now.

One: Lilah wants her to undo a spell cast by Willow.

Two: Lilah is working for Old Ones.

It’s been a while since she’s had to make moral judgements, but as far as she is concerned Willow is good and the Old Ones are very much bad, which is what makes all of this so very worrying.

Of course, there’s also Three: If Tara doesn’t help Lilah, she’ll be sent to a hell dimension.

Maybe that isn’t true. Maybe it is just some elaborate con. Then again, the same could be said about her other two ‘facts’, whatever Lilah might say about her inability to lie. All she has is Lilah’s word for any of those things.

But it’s all she has. And if they’re true…

She can’t worry about Fact 3 now. It’s Facts 1 and 2 that need to be her more immediate concern. And once again, she finds herself in dire need of more information.

The path has turned decidedly rocky by the time Tara has prepared herself for another attempt.

“What kind of spell do you need me to undo?” she asks, trying to sound casual.

Lilah gives her a very tired look, and Tara can’t help but think this is turning into a long day for both of them.

But that’s how Christmas usually works, she supposes.

“Here’s the thing. Your witchling put some powerful voodoo into the world and has shaped her own brave new world. She gave every little girl out there who had the potential to be a slayer the power. No more ‘in each generation, one is born’. Now, there’s hundreds - possibly thousands - of the little brats running around, carving stakes like there’s no tomorrow. Which there might not be, if we’re being honest.”

“Willow… did what?”

“Oh, there’s some reason, I’m sure. Some primal evil or other - isn’t there always? Still, it’s caused an awful mess, of the kind my employers aren’t at all happy about.”

“Why?”

“All those girls, running around and making trouble? Killing things left and right? Just between ourselves, all these clients being slaughtered just isn’t good for business.”

That certainly sounds honest to Tara, and she isn’t liking it one bit. “I need to turn back.”

Lilah sighs. “Are you going to be difficult this entire trip?” She shakes her head. “Don’t answer that. What part of ‘you’ll get sent to a hell dimension’ do you not understand?”

“I’m not going to help you! You’re just doing it for the benefit of evil demons -”

“I never disputed that,” says Lilah. “Doesn’t mean it doesn’t have benefits too.” She smirks. “Can’t lie, remember?”

“First off, I still don’t know whether I can actually believe you. And there’s a huge gap between benefits and this is a good idea.”

The lawyer laughs. It almost sounds genuine. “Good point. All right - this is a good idea.”

“Vague,” protests Tara, weakly. But she can feel doubts niggling at her. Because if what Lilah says is true… Well, it sounds insane. But Willow has done insane things in the past. And it’s so hard to figure any of this out, and a part of her is horribly afraid that Willow has done something incredibly stupid in a way that makes her feel deeply ashamed.

Lilah can see all of this on her face, of course. Which is why she keeps walking with a smirk on her face that is growing far too familiar.

***

She’s still thinking when music starts blaring all around them - electronic and sounding suspiciously familiar to Tara.

She looks around, trying to figure out where it is coming from, but it seemed to be all around them.

Lilah groans.

Tara is still confused by this odd turn of events when a man started singing.

One more time.

One more time.

“Hilarious,” Lilah mutters.

One more time we’re gonna celebrate.

Tara tried not to laugh. “Daft Punk.”

Oh yeah all right don’t stop the dancing.

Lilah shoots her a dirty look. “You won’t think this is so funny after several hours.”

“Several hours?”

“What, do you think it’ll just play once and then be fine? Demons might not be able to stop us but they can certainly irritate us, so get ready to become very familiar with the lyrics of  ‘Harder Better Faster Stronger’.”

“But… why? Surely they can’t think we’ll turn back because they’re playing irritating music?”

Lilah looks at her blankly. “They’re demons. Sure, sometimes they try to win our souls and damn our species, but mostly they’re just quite petty.”

They continue walking as the singer croons One more time for the eighth time.

***

The path is entirely rocky by the time it opens into some sort of cavern. Tara sees the ground drop off below them a few feet ahead, except where it continues on along a narrow, closed off path.

It’s like a bridge. A bridge over hell, with glass on either side separating them from what lies below. It’s all so bizarre - this oddly artificial gap to the chaos outside as they continue over metallic planks, dull lightbulbs illuminating the inside - and Tara feels like she is in a zoo of some kind. Outside of the bridge lie the enclosements, but there are no animals here. No, the shapes and the screams of the inhabitants are distressingly familiar.

Because they are screaming. Screams blending into the sound of music, so that the wail is hard to distinguish from the voice going Our work is never over.

Lilah hasn’t stopped and Tara has to almost jog to catch up to her, but she’s peering out through the glass because she just can’t help herself. It doesn’t need description, but it’s fair to say that it’s a dreadful sight.

“If it helps,” says Lilah in a conversational tone, “they’re not human.”

That makes Tara look more closely.

And she recognises the faces - well, not who they are but what, with their features distorted from those of usual humans: the brow, the sunken eyes, the teeth…

“Are those…” Tara hesitates.

“Vampires?” finishes Lilah, staring dispassionately at the faces contorted not only through screams. “Yes.”

“But I thought… aren’t their bodies separated from their souls when they’re… turned?”

“And now they’ve been reunited.”

Tara feels a horrible lurch in her stomach. “Those aren’t demons’ souls?”

“The ones making all the noise? No.”

“But then… Are the humans… They’re being punished for what the vampires did?”

“Cruel, isn’t it?” remarks Lilah, not sounding in the least bit concerned.

“That’s horrible,” says Tara. “It’s not… It isn’t fair.”

Lilah snorts and Tara looks at her in shock. At the expression, the lawyer rolls her eyes. “Calm yourself, I’m hardly disagreeing. But nothing about… well, anything, is particularly fair, is it?”

They stop talking.

Work it harder make it

Do it faster makes us

Tara finds herself listening again to the stupid song after having worked very hard to block it out. Because just then, she really needs something to distract her from the screams.

***

“This trip was more enjoyable when you were talking,” says Lilah after they’ve walked for an indeterminate amount of time through a series of hellscapes.

Tara summons a glare. “Enjoyable? How can any of this be enjoyable?”

The lawyer shrugs. “Feeling bad doesn’t actually help them, you know.”

“Is that supposed to help?” asks Tara, then winces. She’s surprised at how scathing her voice is.

Lilah gives her a look, then shrugs again. “Don’t know what helps you. I never found out what makes you… hero-types feel better.”

“I’m not a hero-type,” mutters Tara. “But I can’t just not care.”

“Can’t you?” says Lilah, expression blank. Like it is the easiest thing in the world.

“How can you justify it?” she asks, trying to get through to the woman. “They didn’t… It wasn’t them.”

“So the wrong souls get punished. It’s always that way. I suppose the folks in charge here would argue that it doesn’t mean the souls aren’t responsible for the sins of the flesh.”

“This is all…” Tara looks even know how to finish the sentence.

“Look, if it makes you feel better humanity’s downfall will come through its own sins. Demons only facilitate the process. We’re all doomed, it’ll all come to an end. Cheer up, it’s Christmas.”

But that only makes Tara fall silent again. And it makes her think.

***

Tara stops.

Lilah turns around. “What?”

“I can’t do this.”

“You can’t… what?”

“I can’t - If Willow was fighting something that evil, I can’t undo it.”

Lilah frowns, whether it’s at Tara or at the renewed blazing of ‘Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger’ she might never know. “Let’s keep going, Tara.”

“No.”

“You’ll be sent to a hell dimension. For real, this time.”

“Fine,” says Tara. “Do it. I’m not dooming everyone, I’m not betraying Willow, just to save myself.”

Lilah keeps frowning at her for several seconds before sighing. “Heroes,” she mutters. “Always rediscover their morals when you last need it.”

“I’m not a hero.”

“Whatever you want to tell yourself. Look, this primal evil… Sure it’s bad. But what your girlfriend did was really bad.”

“Saving everybody? That was bad?”

“Oh, but even you know that your enchantress is the reckless kind. I’ve been told all about her - about the two of you, in fact. Didn’t she even put her little spells on you?”

“We made up.”

“And perhaps you did. But she has a history of using magic irresponsibly. Making all the girls slayers - that’s going to have consequences. Not least for the girls themselves. You know Buffy. Did she strike you as happy with her lot? And now think of all the girls out there. Targets, just like her. Your sweetheart has condemned them.”

Tara glares at her. “I’m sure they’ll deal.”

Lilah laughs quietly. “Do you really think so?” she asks. “There aren’t enough watchers in the world to supervise all of them, not least because most of them got blown up. Don’t ask,” she adds, seeing Tara’s shock. “The point is, Willow has made their lives hell. There’ve been several casualties already. Other girls who’ve gone mad. All of them have had their lives irrevocably changed - ruined, even. You can make it right.”

“She was saving the world,” says Tara stubbornly.

“Do you really think they couldn’t have come up with something else?” asks Lilah. “A better solution? Your friends are smart. But they let those girls pay the price for their plan.”

“But -“

“I’ve never pretended to be doing this for anyone except for my employers,” she interrupts. “I might be a servant of evil, but at least I’m honest about it. That doesn’t mean your friends didn’t do some serious harm, and I’m not giving you a way of undoing it. Most people don’t get that chance, you know. To do good from beyond the grave.”

“You say it’s good.”

Lilah snorts. “Are you coming or not?”

Tara hates herself because she knows Lilah has convinced her again. Because if there’s a chance that Willow has done something truly horrible… isn’t it her responsibility?

***

“Are you… dead?”

Lilah smiles thinly. “Clearly.”

“But you’re…”

“Seemingly a model of good health? I know, right? I’ve been preserved.”

Tara nods despite not understanding, which she has been doing a lot. She recalls the meeting with the demon. “Standard perpetuity clause?”

The smile widens. “Exactly. Work doesn’t end with death.”

“You mean you… have a contract that still binds you when you’re dead?” Tara is again feeling the overwhelming urge to scream.

Lilah nods, as if this is perfectly normal. Which none of this is.

One more time we’re gonna celebrate

Oh yeah all right don’t stop the dancing

“How did you die?” asks Tara, then winces at how blunt the question was.

Lilah doesn’t care, because of course she doesn’t. “Bit of a long story, actually. Was running away from a vampire, then this ancient powerful being - think Old One except technically speaking on the side of the angels except this one really wasn’t - who was possessing my ex’s former friend killed me.” She shrugs. “Not that long, maybe. Oh, and then my ex ended up chopping off my head. In all fairness, it was rather sweet of him.”

She says all of this rather airily, like it is of no great import whatsoever. But for some reason, Tara isn’t convinced. It’s just a little too casual for her liking. And there’s something about how Lilah’s staring straight ahead, how her fingers are stretched out and stiff like she’s trying not to curl her fists… Dying can’t be a pleasant experience for anyone. It certainly isn’t for Tara. And Lilah’s experience hardly sounds pleasant.

This woman is human. She had an entire life. Her career. An ex, who she had some kind of history with. There’s so many edges and snark to her that Tara had almost forgotten to be curious - but she is, now.

Why would you chop off the head of a dead person?

The bit of her mind that’s actually working supplies her with this question, and it isn’t one she can immediately come up with an answer to. Some kind of ritual? A way to end possession? But hadn’t Lilah said…

Wait…

“Your ex,” says Tara. “He… Was he trying to stop you from… coming back? As a vampire, I mean?”

Lilah looks startled by this, and her eyes narrow for a moment. But then she nods. “Heavens, you’re pretty smart, aren’t you? Yes, he was.”

“And did he succeed?”

A snort. “I’m not a vampire, if that’s what you’re asking. That’s not how the contract works.”

Then how does it work?

***

“End of the shortcut,” says Lilah with what approaches trepidation in her voice. “Now, there’s a path that takes us directly to the contact point, but first we need to get through a bit of hell first.”

Tara gives her a look.

“Just a bit,” says Lilah in a tone that tries and fails spectacularly at being reassuring. Once more, she reaches out

Tara takes another look at the scarf. And she thinks about the own blood staining her jumper. And she thinks of what Lilah said. My ex ended up chopping off my head.

Blood and gore comes as part of the territory for witches. And Tara has seen plenty of it in her time. But there’s something so sick and twisted about the whole thing that she can taste bile in her mouth.

When Lilah opens this new door, the blood and gore come rather closer.

They step through onto a plateau of some sort and when the door swings shut behind them with a loud clang, Tara realises there is nothing behind it. Instead, a few feet away, there’s a sheer cliff under an unsettlingly crimson sky.

What lay ahead of them, however, is considerably more unsettling. There is an acrid smell in the air that verges on sulphuric, and it seems to be coming from the river. It’s hard to quite make out, what with the steam gently curling from it. She steps forward to get a better look (because hey - if she’s survived this much what’s a weird river going to do) and she thinks… that the river might be burning. Constant flames of red and blue and the occasional green flare up, with the steam diffusing into the air that bore down on them like an insistent mist. Like they are both pushing against each other, constantly fighting.

But it’s not water, she realises. It’s too dark, too red for that - it runs slowly and it’s thick and is that odour -

She blanches. And then she gets very close to retching.

“Let’s get out of here quickly,” says Lilah beside her, and for once they are in perfect agreement.

***

Before they had passed through the door, they had been sheltered. Tara had seen hell. She had heard it.

But she hadn’t felt it. And she hadn’t been surrounded by it.

It surrounds her now, engulfs her, seeps into her very pores - inescapable and unbearable. There is another bridge that leads them across the river, but unlike the safety of the last one the river is boiling and spitting on either side of them. She flinches every time a drop comes too close.

The music is gone now. She very nearly misses it.

When they’ve crossed the bridge, they have to walk alongside the river as a shallow stream runs on their other side, keeping their heads down and wearily looking out for anyone to come close. Tara keeps her eyes averted from the more distant figures.

They’re getting close to the little door Lilah says will take them straight to the contact point. Of course, this is all going too smoothly.

***

Tara hears a growl and as one, the two of them whirl around.

A shadow is approaching - twice their height and looming over them - and as it takes another step the light of the burning rivers illuminates his form. His body might be shaped like that of a human but his head resembles that of a bull and he’s coming closer, ever closer -

And the monster rears before them - monstrous, face twisted into fury as the fires from the deepest pits of hell lit in its eyes, dark and writhing yet impossibly bright all at once. Its mouth opens and impossibly sharp and impossibly many teeth protruded, with a set of fangs that promise to tear into shreds anything within reach.

It pauses, reared above them, as drool drips down in front of them. Then, the minotaur frowns.

“Who are you?” it asks.

It can talk. Not in a harsh growl. The voice has a bit of a squeak, actually.

“Hello there,” says Lilah. “I’m Lilah Morgan, and this is Tara Maclay.”

“Oh,” says the minotaur, looking the closest a minotaur can to put-out. “You don’t belong here.”

“We’re just passing through,” says Lilah brightly.

“Right,” says the minotaur and gives a long-suffering sigh. It isn’t really rearing any more. “Just passing through. Well, don’t let me bother you. No one else does.”

“Could we get through here without actually… having to go all through the hell?” asks Lilah.

That earned her a baleful look from the minotaur. “You just want to skip all this?”

“It’s just that rives of fire and blood tend to do hell for the shoes.”

“Ah.”

“Stains, you know.”

“Of course.”

“So can we?”

“No.”

Tara half-watches a centaur passing. He’s muttering something about strangle them with tinsel and she decides she doesn’t need to know more.

“We’ve gone through this already earlier,” says Lilah. “My employers are Wolfram and Hart. Beelzebub agreed to us taking the fastest direct route to -“

“Beelzebub can suck it,” says the minotaur. A rock the size of a frying pan dislodges itself from the ceiling above and falls straight down at the minotaur. He steps aside, looking bored. “He’s not what he used to be if he’s just letting humans wander about.”

“We’re not just wandering about,” says Lilah. “We have all the requisite papers -“

But she’s interrupted as a winged rat swoops between them.

“Delivery coming through,” the winged rat screeches at the minotaur and the two humans. “Move along now!”

Tara stares, and somehow she still manages to be surprised as several centaurs cross the bridge with pine trees strapped to their backs. They all move aside, and she can’t help but notice that the passageway is now directly behind them. If they could just make a run for it…

“Christmas decorations?” asks Lilah in a polite sort of way.

The minotaur groans. “They keep wanting us to make our torture Christmas-related. You’d think we could get on with what we’re meant to do without randomly shoehorning in Christmas at every possible moment, but apparently that’s not the seasonal spirit.”

“What, do you impale them with the trees?” asks Tara.

She doesn’t know whether they catch the sarcasm because they both look at her like they’re both surprised and impressed (she thinks she’s getting better at interpreting the minotaur’s expressions).

“You have been hanging out with the slayer for a while, haven’t you,” mutters Lilah. “Not everything’s a stake, you know.”

“It’s not a bad idea,” says the minotaur, “but we’re using this batch to tie the victims against, then we set them on fire and have a few imps sing Christmas carols. They’re horrid at it, of course. Thing is, pines are far too flammable - usually you’d want a more slow-burning experience. As always, the aesthetic is coming before the practicality.”

“Dreadful,” says Lilah with sympathy. “Now, about letting us through…”

“I said no,” says the minotaur.

“We have the proper documentation -“

“I don’t care about your papers. You’ve come here, and you should have been prepared for the consequences.”

Consequences?

“There’s nothing you can do to us,” says Lilah, slowly. “Wolfram and Hart -“

The minotaur laughs. “They have no power here. You were foolish to come. More foolish still to believe you could get away again. And now” - he leers at them - “you will join the others.”

He takes a single step forwards and swipes at Lilah. She shrieks as she flies back and lands heavily on the floor. And he advances towards her, fangs in full view again.

Tara doesn’t know why she steps between them.

But she does.

She reaches for the power she has felt all her life. Instinct, she supposes: she has no reason to believe that it’ll work here. Tara flexes her fingers and juts out her palm, muttering a syllable. There’s a tug inside her, somewhere close to her gut, and the warmth curls around before spreading outwards. She knows it’s there even before she sees its effects: the demon flying back.

It lands - hard - against the stone wall. The smell of sulphur is thicker than ever in the air and it’s making Tara feel faint. She tries to steady herself - she really doesn’t want to fall into the river to her side. Lilah’s still on the ground, the soles of her shoes sliding on the slick stones stained red at the riverbed. Tara starts coughing and even as her eyes tear up she can see the minotaur raising itself again. She looks around desperately, struggling to see through the tears and the mist that is now tinged red. The way out is still behind them, and whatever her worries about going on with this mad mission she’s not exactly got a lot of choice right now.

But Lilah’s still lying on the ground. Tara runs to her, terrified the lawyer has lost consciousness.

She hasn’t.

Lilah stares at her, eyes wide open, and (genuine) shock on her face. Tara holds out her hand, because what else can she do?

“Come on, then.”

The lawyer keeps staring for a moment, but then grabs it. Tara pulls her up, with only a little difficulty.

They start running as rocks fall from the ceiling behind them. Completely blocking them off, keeping them away from the minotaur. Which would be great if they weren’t in serious danger of being crushed.

One stone sets of another, and the ceiling above is crumbling. There’s an opening ahead but the path is caving in way too fast and Tara has to drag Lilah behind her, refusing to let go. With a last burst of strength that is half magic and half muscle, she throws Lilah ahead off her into the cavern. The lawyer falls hard but safe.

For a horrible second, Tara doesn’t think she’s going to make it. But a last, desperate leap takes her into the cavern and she falls forward before managing to drag her legs out of the way of the falling rocks.

She quickly gets up and looks around. The opening barely deserves the term - but the rocks are a slightly different colour. Beige. And no rocks are falling here. It doesn’t look stable, but the path ahead isn’t currently trying to kill them. So she pushes Lilah ahead of her into the wider path.

Lilah isn’t moving fast. Even though there could be something els here that’s trying to kill them. It’s agonising.

But also exhilarating. Tara has missed being frightened.

***

Tara wants to go on, but Lilah is slowing down.

“Just… let me catch my breath,” she says. She leans against the wall, looking more dishevelled than she has been by anything else, but casts her an almost sly look. “That was pretty brave of you.”

“Yeah, well,” says Tara. “Just kind of happened.”

“Uh huh,” says Lilah. The smirk has returned, but it’s softer this time. She places the palm of one hand against the wall, still steadying herself but pushing off. After a moment of stillness, she almost falls forward and stretches out the other hand, landing against Tara with her fingers closing around her forearm. Tara stumbles - if Lilah had let herself go with her full weight she would surely have fallen. But her movements are far too careful, too deliberate for that. Instead, she leans into Tara, pressing against her closely. She smells of expensive perfume but sulphur clings to her hair and that hair is suddenly in Tara’s face, making her want to gag. But she doesn’t, instead watching as Tara’s lidded eyebrows hide her eyes before her head gradually tilts upwards. She doesn’t do anything as those big eyes meet her, pupils wide and almost hiding the bleached-out colour of her irises.

Both hands are on Tara now, grabbing at her forearms. She doesn’t know how much of it is for support. But it doesn’t really matter now, with Lilah leaning in ever further. Lilah’s mouth opening slightly. Lilah tilting her head to the side. Lilah’s lips brushing against her own.

Which wakes Tara up. Which makes her stand back. Which makes her jump back.

Lilah almost falls. But she’s steadier again, and after a moment she’s leaning against the wall, and she’s shaking just a little. She’s trying for the smirk again, but it’s not as firm as it should be.

“What can I say,” says Lilah, “Near death experiences make me thirsty.”

It makes Tara sure, all of a sudden, that Lilah is covering. The thought hits her, confuses her because… it would make what Lilah had done real.

But this could be a manipulation. It could be another manipulation.

She’s about to say this, but something stops her.

Because somewhere beneath the smirk is a horribly unguarded expression.

“Sorry,” says Tara. Lilah’s mouth opens again - she hadn’t noticed quite how full those lips are. “I have a girlfriend.”

“You’re dead, honey.”

Tara almost laughs at the bravado. A part of her suddenly wonders whether - if this were real - she could somehow use it to get out of this mess. And then she hates herself for the thought.

She should have jumped into hell’s fires before even considering it.

“Still,” she says, more weakly than she wanted.

“If it’s fidelity that’s worrying you, you’ll be thrilled to know that Willow has moved on,” says Lilah dispassionately.

“Oh,” says Tara, then forces herself to be happy for Willow. She has every right to move on, of course. Every right to be happy. “Good.”

“I’m sure. Not that it should matter. You being dead and all.”

They stand in silence for a moment.

“I… Look, I saved your life. Can we just go back now?”

Lilah shook her head. “I don’t have a life for you to save.”

“But -“ She bit ferociously at her lip, in a moment bringing back a bad habit she had managed to stop years and years ago. The pain, at least, is real. “What happens? If you die here?”

The lawyer studies her.“You’ve changed the subject.”

Tara does not answer, the kiss still hanging between them.

“What happens when a dead person dies?” The smirk is a sour twist of the mouth now. “Trust me, you don’t want to know.”

This is ominous, and not at all useful. Tara is just about to protest when something catches her attention.

The walls are closing in on them.

Slowly, but slowly, they’re shifting towards them. Stones screeching over stones, somehow escaping her awareness until now. But now -

“Um… Lilah?”

Lilah frowns for a moment, still distracted. Then she realises too. “Ah shit.”

The walls haven’t stopped moving.

“We need to get out of here,” says the lawyer and before she has the chance to straighten up properly, Tara has grabbed her hand. They’re running again, with a new desperation, and Tara is searching for an exit even as she has to concentrate to not stumble on the rough terrain.

They’re both gasping and straining as their lungs struggle - just as a corner of Tara’s brain realises that the shoes that Lilah are wearing really aren’t appropriate and she’s astounded the lawyer has even gotten so far. One burning leg ahead of the other, pushing each other forwards as the walls press in ever closer, pushing up stones and making the ground hard to step on and their ankles flare up in pain. But Tara can see a space ahead where the walls are no longer moving and it’s a desperate last sprint - fifteen feet, ten feet, five -

They make it. Just.

They’re in a cavern. And they had better hope these walls don’t betray them because right now, they’re too tired to run.

***

“Somehow, this doesn’t even make my top three worst Christmases,” says Tara.

Lilah, who is still panting, looks up at her in bewilderment, then catches Tara’s expression. She starts laughing - it’s a nice laugh, Tara finds, even if it’s interrupted by regular bursts of coughing. All the smoke and gruesome odours are still messing with them. Tara looks away, a smile appearing on her own face. Somehow, that makes Lilah laugh harder.

“This is all so not going to plan,” says Lilah at last, wiping her forehead with the pack of her wrist before examining her dirt-covered hand with an air of disgust. “A few checkpoints, I was told. Just stride right through, they said. And then there’s you, of course.”

“Me?”

“I was told you were going to be disoriented. Easy to convince of anything, considering you long jaunt in limbo and your unfamiliar surroundings.” She laughs again. “All that bullshit about protecting you about paranormal incursions or whatever is just rubbish to make it go down smoother.”

“Can’t say I’m surprised.”

“Yeah. You’re not easy to disorientate. Instead, you’ve been… well, you. Or at least, I hope you won’t more argumentative when you were alive?”

Tara shrugs, somehow not bothered by this new information. “Probably. I don’t think I’d have followed you this far if I were thinking straight.”

“Figures,” says Lilah. “You’ll be thrilled to know that my employers very much underestimated you.”

“For all the good it’s done me.”

She laughs. “This’ll be over soon. Promise.”

“How?” asks Tara. She gestures at the ruins behind them. “We can’t get back.”

“There’s another way,” says Lilah. “I think, anyway. Once we get to the contact point, there’s a door that leads back to hell proper.”

“Great.”

Lilah smirks, but it’s as close to warm as she’s ever been. “We need to continue on to that point though. It’s the only way.”

“How very convenient.”

She rolls her eyes. “Trust me, this was not my plan. None of this…” There’s a moment of awkwardness as Lilah straightens again.

There’s only one path out of the cavern. Just when Tara is feeling herself again, she’s all out of choices. So there’s really nothing to do except to continue. Whatever may be waiting for them next.

“I didn’t really do much of that sort of thing when I was alive,” says Lilah suddenly. They’ve walked for a bit and it’s shaping up to be a fairly ordinary tunnel.

Tara glances at her but Lilah is looking down. She does the same, able to guess what the lawyer means. She doesn’t know whether dead people can get tired… but this definitely feels like the real thing.

“Maybe death changes things,” Lilah continues. “Or… Perhaps I didn’t see the point in it. I liked using intimacy. I liked the power I got from it. Women never did have much of that, not where I’m from.” She flashes Tara a smile. “Should have sought out some witches, shouldn’t I?”

Tara really doesn’t know what to say to this. She racks her mind for something, then tries to figure out how to change the subject and goes with the first thing she can think of.  “Your contract. The one with your employers, I mean. Does it even bind you here?”

Lilah stares at her for a few long moments, making Tara wonder whether she’ll get angry. But she shrugs, and again she’s looking so very painfully casual. “It’s complicated.”

“If you disobeyed…”

“It wouldn’t be a great idea.” Another shrug. “You’re not the only one who could spend the New Year in a hell dimension.”

“I’m starting to think I really shouldn’t be doing this,” says Tara sardonically.

Lilah snorts. “If you really want to get away, there’s another path you can take,” she says. “There’s the one that leads to the real world, where the connection is formed. And another one, that leads straight back to hell. The real hell, that is. Trying to get back to limbo? You’ll have to go through the second one either way.”

“Why are you telling me this?” She can’t keep the suspicion out of her voice.

“Because -“ says Lilah, then cuts herself off suddenly. She closes her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips. “It’s what I need to say,” she says eventually. “To get you to follow me.”

Of course, they’re faced with one last obstacle.

A pit of fire. Just what Tara needs.

***

“We need to jump,” says Lilah.

“What?”

“Well, there’s meant to be a bridge but clearly the denizens of hell haven’t felt in the mood to provide one.”

“It’s too far,” she says. The gap has to be at least five feet, and the flames beneath are hissing. The edges of the rocks on the other side hardly look stable either.

“Then use your magic.”

“You can’t just -“ Tara takes a deep breath, trying to ignore the inevitable smirk. “I don’t even know why my magic is working, but it’s not particularly reliable. And it’s not as strong as it usually is. Levitation requires a lot of energy and self-levitation is beyond me so unless you want to continue on your own…”

“That won’t do,” says Lilah. “How about creating a bridge?”

“What, just magick some stones into place?”

Lilah nods.

Tara rolls her eyes. In doing so, she focuses on the pit of fire. As conduits go, fire is pretty much perfect - like a ready-made fuel. “There’s one spell - the Ritual of Cherufe. It warps fire into ice. Usually you’d use candles but…”

“- we’re not exactly short on fire.”

She nods, examining the ground. It’s dusty, and the thin sheen is ideal to make signs on. “Don’t suppose you keep a stick hidden wherever your papers are?”

“No.”

Tara kneels on the ground, gesturing Lilah to stand aside. She closes her eyes for a moment, summoning the relevant memories. She’d always had a good head for spells. Perhaps she never would have had Willow’s raw power, but when it came to knowing magic, there is no one who matches Tara. She sketches a pentagram with her grubby finger and adds the specific lines and runes to the edge, before adding a small latinate stabiliser to the bottom. Then she steps gingerly into the pentacle.

“You’ll have to be fast once I conjure the spirit,” she says, hoping spirits could even be summoned here. “I won’t be able to hold it for long.”

“You’re sure the ice will hold?” asks Lilah dubiously.

Tara gives a thin smile. “I thought you can’t die here.”

That earns her a scowl.

“All right then,” she mutters, and recites the incantation quickly and confidently, waving her hands in a manner reminiscent to a conductor, before throwing her head up in expectance of the spirit - even though there isn’t much reason to expect it to come from above or anywhere at all.

But a prickle of energy and a gasp from Lilah tells her that the spell is working. After a moment, she looks down to see that the fire has transfigured itself to a single ice platform.

Lilah gives her an uncertain look, but she takes a quick run and bounds on to the platform, skittering dangerously on the surface but jumping immediately on. She lands at the edge and almost tips backwards, but after peddling furiously with her arms she manages to fall onto her knees, before instantly raising herself again and beckoning to Tara.

“Come on!”

Tara takes another deep breath and inhales a lot of soot for her trouble. The ice looks rather flimsy, especially with the fearsome flames licking at its bottom. Well, no time like the present. Besides, a fall to a fiery undeath would certainly be one way out of her current dilemma.

She runs forwards and jumps on to the platform, landing with both feet and pausing. She can see through the ice, can see the flames leap at her. After teetering for just a moment, she summons her courage and jumps again, falling against Lilah and taking them both to the ground.

They lie on each other. Lilah looks winded, but quickly gives a cheeky grin.

“Skipping straight to the good parts, are we?”

Tara groans and rolls off. She lies on her back staring at the jumble of rocks above, wondering whether this day will ever end.

***

They’re in a room of some kind. It’s lit by a single torch, which makes Tara wonder where all the light in the taverns came from. Hell has different lighting rules, she supposes. She can’t make out the corners, and Lilah has pried the torch from the wall to illuminate stairs.

“This is just the antechamber,” says Lilah. “What matters is up those stairs.”

Tara just looks at her.

“Come on,” says Lilah. Tara has to stay close to see anything, and the stone steps don’t look particularly safe. It’s another narrow path that curves around with steps that are slightly to high to be comfortable and uneven enough to be dangerous. She has to stare at her feet where the flickering flame shows her where to step. They don’t speak.

The room at the top is somewhat better lit. That’s mainly by the glow of a portal of some kind - with tendrils of silver spinning around on the frame and spiralling off the edge. And behind it, an altar of some kind. A stone that shines green.

“What…”

“It’s linked to you,” says Lilah as they step forwards.

“To me?”

“Once you reach in.”

Tara looks around for another way out, but there’s nothing except the portal.

“We need to find the moment of the spell,” says Lilah. “In your time stream -“

“But what you want after my death.”

Lilah shakes her head. “The time stream is… everything. It’s who created you, what effects you had on the world. You live on in Willow’s magic. That’s why this’ll work. Then you step through and touch the stone. That makes the connection.”

Tara hesitates. “You said there’d be another way. A way out of this.”

A nod. “There is. But behind the portal - there’s the stone you touch to make the connection. You do have a way out.”

“And if I decide not to help?”

Lilah shrugs. “You’ll see the truth of your choice in the stream. Then you can decide what to do.”

“My decision, eh?”

No answer.

She stretches out and lets her hand run through the portal.

***

She stares into the time stream, the visions and voices washing over her in a ferocious mess. Glimpses of people connected to her, as far as she can tell - a younger version of her father standing over a cot, her cousin laughing at something she can’t see, a girl who looks like her mother sipping at coffee.

She’s growing so -

Norman Lamond said he’d prop up -

It’s in the bag for the Rams -

But it isn’t just the past. She sees Willow again and again - and not just the Willow she had known but an older Willow too. A Willow who had a bright future - sometimes with Buffy at her side, sometimes without. Willow with friends, enemies, lovers… Xander frowning at a man with handsome curls, holding a flashlight tightly. Buffy pressed with her back against the wall, a bruise covering her brow as she groaned quietly.

I can’t give you up. Not after Dortmund -

The Gatwick drones changed everything. Now that everyone knows about vampires -

Dawn, it’s not safe. Please, come back, let’s talk about this. You don’t need to do it on your -

And a voice piercing through. A familiar one. Spike.

Something’s brewing and it’s so big, ugly and damned, it makes you and me look like little bitty puzzle pieces.

Tara tries to hold on to the voice. She feels, instinctively, that it matters.

His eyes are wild and he stares at someone out of sight. Maybe it’s Buffy.

And his voice says one more thing. You’re gonna need help.

“There it is,” mutters Lilah.

Tara whirls around. “That’s it?” She has felt the darkness. Whatever it is… Whatever Willow did, she suddenly knows it was necessary. She can’t undo this spell, she just can’t. Consequences be damned.

The First. A primal evil, indeed. One that Willow had -

She has to get out of here.

“If we do this,” says Tara, pleading, “we’ll ruin everything. God, Lilah, can’t you see? Don’t you care?”

That makes something break in Lilah’s face. But the mask is back in an instant. “I don’t care. And I got past appeals to God a long time ago.”

“You do care,” says Tara, not sure if she believes it or if she wants to convince herself of it. Because she’s begun seeing Lilah as a human and she can’t - she won’t - think of her as a monster, but now more than ever she just needs to get through…

Lilah hesitates for a moment. Then she pushes Tara in the back towards the stone. “I’m sorry. But I don’t have a choice.”

***

“You don’t have to do this!” shouts Tara, struggling furiously. But Lilah’s grasp is surprisingly strong and she pulls her wrist towards the flickering stone. She tries to reach for her magic but she’s exerted herself too much. There has to be some way to bend the torch’s flames or to -

Lilah lets out a gasp of pain and she’s staring down at where she’s grabbing Tara’s wrist. Tara is burning her through the touch, one of the first spells she mastered. She can only imagine how painful it is but Lilah does not let go, tears in her eyes but still pulling her hand down. Tara starts muttering under her breath, pouring her magic into the stones below, loosening them and making them crumble from within. But it takes time, time she doesn’t have.

Her hand is inches away from the stone.

She can’t resist any longer so she does the only thing she could think of and steps forward to kiss Lilah. It has been a long time since Willow. It has been a long time since she has been this close to anything. To anyone.

But there’s no real time to think - no real time for anything at all except to get away from here, to end this. She’s managed to disorientate Lilah enough to pull her away from the stone and in a natural continuation of the movement her hand makes a gesture towards the floor. It takes all her energy to even make a dent and for a single, horrible moment as they lean ever closer into each other she thinks she won’t be strong enough. She pulls out every last tendril of her power, not caring what happens past this moment.

And the floor comes crashing down.

***

The thing is… That is that. There’s nothing else to do. Nothing else to say.

This is how their story ends.

***

Except that they’re no more dead than they were before Tara ripped up the floor and made them tumble through, before they landed in a mess of dust and stone that leaves scratches and bruises and they need time to crawl away from, before Tara makes a small light hover in the air above her head with power she didn’t know she still had.

They don’t speak. They just sit on their respective piles of rocks.

***

“We’re stuck here. In an antechamber, with the path leading back completely blocked off and the path ahead collapsed,” says Tara, dully.

Lilah still has her eyes closed, but eventually she answers. “That’s not entirely true.”

Tara stares to where the lawyer is once again flattened against the wall. That once lovely suit is pretty much in tatters by now, the scarf isn’t looking much better. She’s grubby and grime-cladden and hardly an impressive figure any more, but right now she’s all Tara has.

And Tara wants her to explain herself. Now.

“There’s a crack,” says the lawyer and slaps the wall to her right. Tara looks where she’s gesturing. And hidden in the corner, there is indeed another opening.

***

Lilah opens her eyes to see Tara’s expression of fury.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “It’s what I do. It’s what I always do.”

It’s not like Tara hadn’t been warned. Not like she hadn’t known.

Tara makes a move towards the door, and for a moment Lilah thinks she’s going to leave her there.

***

The thing is, whatever Lilah has done, Tara can hardly leave her there. She has enough of a measure of the woman by now that there’s more to the woman than the cold veneer, more than this last trick. This series of tricks and misdirections, because of course now Tara realises how carefully Lilah chose her words. No lies. Only half-truths.

She’s all Tara has.

“Come on,” says Tara.

Lilah’s expression is blank. The silence stretches between them.

“Lilah,” she says. “Come on.”

At that, Lilah’s gaze meets her own. And she straightens up, somehow, again. And she follows Tara towards the gap in the stones that leads to another world entirely. But before Tara can cross the threshold, Lilah stretches out her arm and blocks her way.

It takes Lilah a moment to say what she wants to.

“If you hadn’t needed to distract me…” The question hangs unfinished in the air.

Tara imagines testing out either response, figuring out which one is the truth and which one dies in her throat. But neither feels right. Not yet.

“I guess we’ve got all the time we need to figure that out.”

There’s a ghost of a smirk on Lilah’s face as she withdraws her arm. “Let’s rule hell.”

“Merry Christmas.”

The smirk becomes a real one and it’s the last thing Tara sees before she steps through the crack. And as she enters the next part of their journey, she can just about hear Daft Punk playing in the distance.

[monkey-network]

WarioWare: The Series Season 3 Episodes

52 Episodes. Season 4 Coming 20XX Season 2, Season 1 * = Episode Submitted by @tmantookie

The End of the Show: WarioWare Inc. want to make games again… except Wario, who has grown tired of the idea and the gang somehow taking advantage of him (even when he steals from them), so he goes back to treasure hunting. This begs the question: can a company run smoothly without an (arrogant and maniacal) entrepreneur to lead it?

The Prince and the Bopper: An elegant prince gets transported to Diamond City and feels out of touch with this new reality, so JT helps him see a side that’s been locked away. His kingdom’s chancellor arrives to take him back, but he’s conflicted between becoming king of the castle or staying as king of the ball.

Wario Side Story: The Possums and the Squirrels, rival gangs of DC’s Crystal Park, have fought for territory for generations. However, the daughters of the gang’s leaders start to bond and wish to put an end to the war. With Wario and Mona spectating from afar, can there be enough resolve in putting an end to the conflict?

Hurry Up!: The WarioWare gang are making a mad dash to a concert, but when they try using a shortcut through the DC mall, they’re forced to confront persistent kiosk owners who will stop at nothing to make them pay.

Words Hurt: In the show’s quietest episode ever, 9 and 18 Volt study at a library when higher grade kids start getting them in unintentional trouble, so the duo set up prank traps that’ll surely get back at them. All without making a sound.

Greed Pluribus Unum: A master thief is taking money from Wario, the richest fatcats of DC, banks, schools, hospitals, everything from the town. Why and where to is anyone’s game, but Wario-Man’s on the case to track down, take back, and force himself to give back to those who’ve been wronged.

Robot Humble: Doris 1 short circuits and plots to lead a robot uprising, but fails at getting an army due to Crygor’s bots not being the most vicious (or stable). So she turns to Mike, who develops feelings for her but gets annoyed by her constant pleading and moping.

Star Tolls: Orbulon takes over Dribble and Spitz’s shift for the day and is somehow better than the duo at getting the job done. But when he accidentally scratches a car and is challenged to a race across the galaxy, he may have to break some codes of his to win.

Nightmare on W Street: Halloween has arrived and Ashley is still the one person who’s afraid of nothing (beyond that one time). She and Wario takes this as an opportunity for easy money from the city, but when a stranger shaman casts a spell on her, the scam might falter when she starts to finally recognize fear.

Man of the Woods: Former minions of Wario’s past are stalking him, and everyone’s trying to figure out how to sooth their haunting tension toward him.

Cater Joe’s: Manager Joe opens a diner on the edge of town to have some time away from the city life. Some of the WarioWare gang stop by to share an adventure they had over the week.

Penny Machine: A snooty scientist is dazzled by Penny’s science fair project, but Penny refuses to give it up as it’s her most delicate creation. So the judge does all they can to get it, but you can’t put a price on love.

The Hero’s Might: After her first ever sugar rush, a hungover Lulu is stranded in the middle of nowhere with nothing but a lute, a water bottle, a mule, and Wario’s clothes on her back. Nothing left to do but try to make it back. And it begs the question: who’s the stubborn one in this story?

The Rhythm Hath Fallen* (Half Hour Crossover Special): A cosmic earthquake causes Heaven World to fall and collide with Diamond City, with HW’s citizens treating DC’s citizens to a week long block party. But the week starts to overstay its welcome, so Rhythm Heaven’s Tibby, his friends, and the WW gang try to fix things with Mamarin’s bizarre guidance.

The Opposable Opponent: Young Cricket starts training under a master that only uses his left thumb to fight, but struggles to keep up with the regime... until he starts to figure out how the master came to be.

Spell “Mi cup”: 9-Volt, 18-Volt, and 13-Amp enter and win a special edition movie branded mug and split up their days of possessing it. However, sharing germs is the one thing the three unfortunately overlook.

Tree Top Tango: Jimmy T is enjoying a jazzy walk in the woods, but gets in a pickle when creatures of nature’s variety start to surface. What’s a disco fool to beside show them a natural groove to ease their carnivorous minds.

Love at First Strike: Ana starts to develop a crush on 9-Volt, and is stuck between practicing and hanging out with him. 9-Volt would feel the same way, if she wasn’t pummeling him as a means to hide him from Kat.

The Typical Beach Episode: It’s an average beach day for WarioWare Inc... until a hurricane lands smack dab in the middle of the fun. So now the gang is caught between staying within the eye of the storm and dodging the chaos circling around them.

Ashociates: Ashley finally made some friends, dawg! Except not really, she’s only using them to get a mystical artifact and if you see her so called “friends”, her front is kinda justified.

Good Golf: Mona and Dr. Crygor are enjoying a nice day of mini-golf when a egotistical pro golfer butts in their game and begins ruining people’s fun. The two team up to beat him just in time for lunch, but things get difficult when he put up traps on the course.

Chili Dog Millionaire: Lulu finds out she’s a great cook, so she gets a job at a gourmet restaurant where the head chef demands for nothing but perfection. Nervous at first, the head chef treats her better than the rest, which prompts jealousy and potential sabotage her way.

King of the Dill: 18-Volt is selling hot pickles at school but sells out quick and ran out of his special ingredients. While going to the store, his classmates spot him and suddenly transform into sore throat, teary eyed zombies by the sight of his green jacket.

Becoming Human (For Dummies): Orbulon gets tired of people picking on him because he’s an extraterrestrial. So he invents a human suit that helps him appear like one. But, the intricacies of the suit start to send Orbulon dark thoughts that yet don’t stray from typical human ideologies.

Dueldreaming: Kat is suffering from nightmares to the point of not sleeping at all, so with the help of Penny, Ana goes into her dreams to slay the horrors but starts to cower before what she finds.

Way of the Birthday: It’s Young Cricket’s birthday, so Mantis has the perfect gift for him for all he’s done: a Battle Royale where it’s him against Mantis’s old friends.

Jump the Rope: We got ourselves a flash forward episode, where we see the kids grown up, the adults living out their days, and Wario.... ummm, in another place.

A New L.O.W.: Wario creates the League of Wario, a team of sinister pranksters, to get back at a viral video celeb that wedgied him great enough to put him in a wheelchair. 

Wario Party: It’s the anniversary of WarioWare Inc, and the gang wants to celebrate the occasion... by dining at the perfect restaurant. But they’ve dined at every place in DC, so they set out to go to the best place with the best palette, atmosphere, and prices.

Musclecats HO!: Mona joins a gym and enters herself into a bodybuilding competition. With the help of a supportive and swoll group of regulars, she’s aiming for the top.

Grey JT: A grey hair sprouts from Jimmy’s head and this makes him worry about how his routine may be the cause of aging faster.

That’s Enough, Buddy: Due to increase danger risk in DC, a young yet no nonsense sheriff is enforcing old rules on the public which interferes with Wario’s latest scam.

A Mother’s Metal: 9-Volt wants to give 5-Volt the best Mother’s Day gift ever, and eventually digs up an old relic of her past that’s both a blessing and a curse to 5.

The Best Worst Case Scenario: Television has gotten boring, even Wario thinks it’s a waste of his time, so everyone trashes their TV and goes outside to more productive means. Everything is swell, except for the people up top who soon rely on Wario to save them.

Oh Snow: Layers of snow has hit DC and while Wario becomes a life-sized snowman, Ashley learns about the multifaceted fun of snow.

WarioWaRPG: A digital virus manifests from Penny’s laptop and turns Diamond City into a card based RPG world. She kidnaps Penny and it’s up to the gang to save her. Unfortunately, they skipped the tutorial and don’t have the best decks on hand.

Let’s Be Lazy For Once: Due to a budget setback thanks to last episode, the WW gang decide to look back on previous episodes and provide as clever and nice a commentary as possible.

You’re Clowning Me: Dribble and Spitz pick a group of clowns that are on their way to rehearsal. What the two fail to realize is that they’re clown mafia with police, and rival clown cars, not far behind.

Chivalry is Dumb: A famous detective, and his maid sidekick, arrives at Diamond City to investigate an elaborate crime, only to be taken aback by Wario and all that he stands for, while his sidekick grows to enjoy the big guy’s rebellious and burly personality.

Break Out the Rainy Day Fun: Kat, Ana, Penny, 9 & 18 Volt join Ashley and Red at their manor while the rain’s heavy outside. And while Ashley is busy with a certain brew she’s craving, she summons skeletons to go play with, and not chomp, the others.

The Suit: Legends says there is a mystical 3 piece suit that can turn any normal being into a charming yet sadistically unruly reality bending version of themselves. Now this would be the part where I mention who stumbles upon such clothing, but I’ll let that be a mystery.

Consider the Fruit n’ Nuts: Dr. Crygor, with assistance from Wario, Mona, Cricket, and Penny, teaches us the good and bad of dieting.

House of Mike: After Mike stumbles upon a group of pugs who’re seeking a sense of purpose and bonding, he shows them a fantasy game he recently bought that could help them out.

The Hero’s “Happiness”: Lulu is comfortable with the life she now has in DC, but doesn’t feel happy, whatever that means. Only when a familiar villager of Luxeville enters the picture does she question whether it’s right to stay or leave for better purposes, and she turns to the least favorable person for help.

You Agree With Me?: In a shocking turn of events, a man who’s never able to decide on any choice was able to thanks to Jimmy’s advice. Now our more decisive denizen is indebted to his afro hero, to the point of imitating him to a bizarrely fleek degree.

Master Blaster: A few million years ago, jerk aliens decided to blast the earth with a laser beam that’s destructive yet really slow. A few million years later, it’s set to touchdown in 24 hours. Orbulon and Dr.Crygor team up to figure out how to beat the laser, but our alien is more worried with time than the doctor.

A Series of Unbelievable Events: At Joe’s Diner, Young Cricket and Master Mantis share their awful day and Manager Joe doesn’t find everything to be true, so they begrudgingly trace their steps and recount their day to Joe exactly how it happened.

Amp Unleashed: 13-Amp must face her fears when she has to rap battle against a duo that inspired her career. While she is alone on this mission, the memories of 18-Volt and Mike’s help give her new found strength.

Fronk Sonata’s Moonlight: Penny’s terrible singing practice makes her voice soul leave her body for 9V’s fronk, Snag, who becomes a hit nightclub singer.

Unininja: Kat and Ana fuse into one ultimate dual wielding ninja, but unfuses for good when they go too far with their newly acquired fun. But when a Tengu Shogun is coming with an armada toward Diamond City, it’s the perfect time to unite once again.

My Witch Ashedemia: Ashley is enrolled in a prep school for witches, but feels bored with the mediocre lessons. But she uncovers a secret about the school and uses this to blackmail the teachers for more advanced schooling, which inadvertently puts a target on her from an anti witch group.

LessTalkMoreTanks (Half Hour Season Finale): The WW gang finds a giant battle tank and take it for a spin, but it turns that they stole it from its cantankerous, anarchy driven owner. So... tank fight in the sand dunes, the gang vs the owner’s friends? Who’s on board?

[dahniwitchoflight]

minor AU Completion of the Beta Kid’s Animal Symbolism

so something I’ve always thought about and wondered about, I wanna talk about for a bit, now that homestuck’s over and I’m rereading it going through the story

all of the beta kids throughout the story have unique animal related symbolism, that eventually ties into delving into greater parts of their characters, exploring even what you might consider the “darker side” to their characters, sometimes to the point of representing their inverted states/jungian shadow selves nicely tied into the idea of “lower bestial natures” being at odds with their true human natures

and these culminate and get fully cashed in by tragic/failed alternate versions of each beta kid that gets somehow mixed with their respective animal (usually through sprite shenanigans) and ends up in some way dealing with their inner issues a bit

Jade’s Dreamself (who was always very silly and prone be overemtional) dies under prospit’s moon, gets stuffed, and later resurrected as a JadeBecsprite who represents Jade’s inner tragic emotional states

Dave gets trapped in an alternate timeline with Rose, but then goes back in time after learning the ins and outs of the game, only to sec prototype as Davesprite and earn wings, and then forevers deals with the depression and aftermath of never being “Alpha” Dave ever again

Rose eventually dies in a pre retcon timeline fighting the condesce, and her corpse is thrown into Roxy’s sprite post retcon, which then merges with Jaspersprite to make Jasprosesprite^2 and which post retcon Rose is herself embarrassed by the inner revelations revealed by this character, who has itself lost all inhibitions due to the animal prototyping

but John never really gets anything of the sort, but in reality, there was a GREAT opportunity for him to have something like this happen to him, early on in the story, that doesn’t actually change much of the story at all

so this is kind of a “what if this had happened instead?” minor AU where some minor details were a little different

because the animal candidate I’m thinking of that could have had something to do with John personally in the above way, already has a great setup for this: none of its own character/personality/dialogue as it was just a programmed toy robot, minimal invasion into the plot (and most only in regards to John’s Dad related things), viewed John as it’s sole master and had a nice clean death via Green Sun explosion in Cascade

and that is the Uber Bunny Robot known as Liv Tyler

and the alternate version John candidate I’m thinking of is the John that got tricked by Terezi into facing Typheus too early and getting killed by him, causing the doomed timeline where Davesprite is from

this John also has a great setup for this, because at first we get exactly 5 or so pages describing what went down in the Doomed timeline, and all of it from Dave and Rose’s perspective, we know nothing of what really happened in that John Typheus encounter, other than “John died and thus was unavailable to help Jade enter the game”, we also get a little bit more later, when we see the Ghost of this John have a chat with a dead version of Vriska much much later in the story. John says there was more to his death than he let on, he died, but not in a fight with his denizen, because he spoke with Typheus, and knew that his death was necessary for his friends to live on, he made his Choice to die, for the sake of the timeline

and because this alternate John and Liv Tyler have a huge chunk of symbolism in common, all of which ties directly back to John, and more specifically, John’s opposite aspect Blood

the first is, the same Liv Tyler Bunny plush was given to John by all three of his friend’s on his same birthday through time shenanigans

Dave gives him the original plush rabbit, which is the actual original rabbit from the one nic cage movie john really loves, when John ecto’s all the babies, he dramatically re-enacts the con air nic cage scene from that movie (reunite with your loving wife and daughter) and gives the rabbit to Rose

Rose in this reality grows up with the rabbit as her own sentimental youthful object, its old and torn growing up with her, so she knits it back together using the needles that John gifted to her and gives it to John on his birthday

John then gives this rabbit to Baby Jade in the same reunite with loving wife and daughter scene

and finally, Jade with her then alt universe penpal Jake, send it back and forth, making robotic upgrades and enhancements and equipping it with all kinds of awesome gear:  the Warhammer Of Zillyhoo, the Quills of Echidna, the Royal Deringer, and Ahab's Crosshairs, which match the Strife Specibi of the beta kids. She does this because she foresaw John would be in danger and wanted to send something to help him fight

this rabbit is the literal embodiment of Johns strongest friendship bonds 3 times over, the literal physical manifestation of his Blood

and then Typheus!John is only able to get to Typheus because Terezi through Sollux helped him removed the 3 random objects stuck in his rocket, 3 random objects, that just so happen to be object that appear in Dave’s, Rose’s and Jade’s houses: a cinderblock, a violin and a potted plant

so again, a connection to John’s connection to all 3 of his friends

now here’s where the AU kicks in:

John is still tricked into meeting his denizen early, preserving the timeline with Davesprite and whatnot, however his choice to die to preserve the reality where his friends continue to exist has another part to it

Not only does Typheus allow him to choose to become a ghost to preserve the alpha timeline, but also gives John a sort of challenge, with a potential boon at the end

If John as a ghost can break out of his extra hard dream bubble coma, break out of his memories, remember the choice he made to help save his friends/the timeline, he may be allowed to manifest in a different physical form instead, in order to continue helping his friends/his new alpha self survive the game

all the panels where dead Vriska meets him and helps him to jog his usually hard to jog memory compared to the other ghosts still happen, but the ending is different, because of the extra challenge/boon Typheus gave him. When John remembers fully, he remembers the boon Typheus left him/how to use it, probably something like, a one use portal window thing that transports his ghost back into the physical realm, so he’s kinda in the same state Aradia was as a ghost in Alternia

so he finds somewhere where the uber bun exists, some point before it actually gets to his dreamself on prospit (doesn’t actually matter where)

and then it’s revealed after the fact, that everything Liv Tyler did upon activation at Prospit was actually the choices made by this alternate universe dead spirit version of John

it’s viable because as a robot made by Jade and Jake, it has the ability to potentially house a soul/life, just like Jade’s dreambot for her dreamself (or again, earth version of the tech that Equius made for Aradia, lot of weird Aradia parallels here, but that really only helps this AU) and something that helps is that the bun likely wasn’t built with any way to naturally communicate, no pesterchum in it like lil hal, nor a voicebox, again making a connection to this being a John which has to internally deal with/overcome that he is no longer the “important” John, but this time he’s simultaneously back with all of his friends, and cut off from them at the same time, similar to Davesprite, but also in a having no mouth and must scream kind of way (relating to symbolism of Breath = Speech/communication/mail) being the opposite of his natural element, in an unhealthy place, similar in situation to how Lil Hal was an A.I.  copy of Dirk, a heartless version of a heart player/out of their natural element and having to deal with that negative environmental influence

and it helps explain the few things that Liv Tyler seem to do with no direction, like help get Dad’s wallet containing the tumor (which a John would have recognized as his dad’s and picked up anyway) and getting to Dave Rose and helping them (when it’s stated Liv Tyler was supposed to view John and only John as his master, specifically built that way by Jade for that purpose, to protect John)

the package hes in goes through it’s shenanigans like usual, one minor change could be instead of Jack Noir wielding the bunny against the black queen to get her ring in rebellion, he could simply use one of the many regiswords/assassination requests he apparently gives out like candy, like the one he gave to PM, and the bun merely stays in the box until it’s delivered to PM and then John himself and Bun!John recognizes John and becomes his protector

but then you could just make the point in time that Alt!John merges with the bun the point where Liv Tyler’s allegiances switch to helping John from Jack Noir, so the above is just moot anyway

he stays with John for awhile, then fulfills his major mission in helping get the tumor to Rose and Dave and help them to survive/god tier in the correct time and place/again preserve the timeline, fulfilling the idea of him wanting to come back for the purpose of wanting to keep his friends safe/putting his bonds above his own internal state and self to the point of self sacrifice during the green’ sun’s explosion (again, another point for his blood overpowering his breath)

so yeah, you can see, despite all my text it doesn’t actually change much in the plot! the biggest thing could be Jack Noir not using it for the Black Queen (cuz lets be honest he didn’t really need to, his betrayal would have caught her off guard enough to grab the ring) but really just depends on where you choose to do it

AND instead of this flash: https://www.homestuck.com/story/5027 which was more comedic, we could potentially get a string of panels showing what John was thinking and feeling as the Bun Robot, so close and yet so far away from all his friends, completely alone in his own thoughts and with his only motivation being to make sure his friends survive the game, maybe in thought bubbles or code like Serenity the firefly, showcasing the sort of mental descent and depression that John is really prone to, showing how he could end up in a state where he willingly dies for his friends for their sake

I think it’s a great missed opportunity to be honest and at the very least it’s a very neat little AU Idea

and the way it’s set up would be like an awesome shock reveal too

but then also, John is already compared to nic cage so much it’s not even funny

and John himself makes the symbolic connection between nic cage being just like the rabbit “dirty, worn, old, but it’s what on the inside that counts” simultaneously making that connection to himself when he’s inside the rabbit, because it’s bot his outward appearance that matters, what matters is that He’s still John on the inside, still your best friend guys, I’m right here...

and homestuck has a pattern of turning old jokes into new serious content, so it’s not like it doesn’t fit

and if a few panels are thrown in of a ghostly spirit wandering a bit before settling on the bun inside jade’s gift, it can help establish that Alpha John later would become truly intangible and floating through not just earth, but all of homestuck itself

anyway, those are my thoughts for this idea, I think there’s a lot to go on here

the only thing thats not involved are sprite shenanigans, but If I could find a way to involve those then I would :P

maybe instead of dying at the green sun with Dave and Rose he somehow gets thrown into an sprite somewhere and becomes actual RoboBunJohnsprite (even though everything’s taken already and can’t be altered) maybe it can happen instead of Tavris or GCATavris who knows is BunJohn even survives somehow

shenanigans! shenanigans i say

[13ceremonialskrp]

                              STEP LIGHTLY, CHILDREN OF THE MOON

THE COVEN WELCOMES THE 4:30PM CEREMONIAL, KANG SEULGI, A 24 YEAR OLD SIBERIAN CAT FAMILIAR

idiosyncrasy

At first glance Seulgi seems arrogant and standoffish, and in a way she is. She prefers to be on her own and fully believes she doesn’t need to rely on anyone for anything, save for the bond she has with 4am. She’s irritable and uncaring of any business that isn’t her own, almost to the point of selfishness because why should she help if it doesn’t benefit her? If she does agree to help (or is forced to help), she treads carefully because any misstep could cause her curse to knock off another few years of her life. 

However, despite the cold exterior, Seulgi can be a fiercely loyal friend, who will go to any lengths to protect those dear to her. She’s not ungrateful to those who help her, being more tolerant of those who do and she hates having any kind of debt to others. Alongside being cautious, she’s mostly levelheaded because she knows mistakes are born from emotions, although this also means she’s a tough nut to crack when it comes to revealing her emotions. On the off chance her guard is lowered, she can be a little clumsy and a little tsundere, but you’d have to be really lucky to get to see that.

proficiency

In her cat form, Seulgi is gifted with exceptional night vision, being able to clearly distinguish between people, objects and animals. She has a great sense of balance, is very quick and agile and her keen hearing helps to keep enemies from catching her off guard from behind. She is quiet in her cat form, making almost no sound as she travels; however, not the same can be said for that pesky tail of hers.

ineptitude

Still trying to understand her role and her ‘gift’ as a familiar, one of the things Seulgi has troubles with is the control of her tail. Sometimes without thinking, she’ll knock something over on her way out, or (very loudly) rustle some leaves, alerting others of her presence. While she has keen hearing, it’s useless if the person, animal or familiar coming up from behind her is light footed. Without a keen sense of smell, she also cannot distinguish if they are a friend or a foe. While most cat familiars also seem to be able to see spirits outside of their realm, it is largely undeveloped in Seulgi. Sometimes she’ll see a flicker of light, or the slightest shadow, but because her abilities manifested later than others, she doesn’t have much control over any that aren’t of a physical nature.

Seulgi is also weak when it comes to confrontation. She is more likely to evade than attack and any physical blows can cause considerable damage, depending on where it lands. If forced to attack, her claws are weapon, although she’ll keep her attacking to a minimum, just enough to create an opening for her escape. This is less of an issue in her human form as she’s taken up martial arts to make up for it.

sanctions

The myth is that cats have nine lives, but that’s not how it goes for Seulgi. In fact, Seulgi doesn’t know how many ‘lives’ she has left. She’s been cursed with her ‘nine lives’, where she has nine chances to get out of nine life-threatening situations; however, she doesn’t know how many chances she has left or how many have already been used. What she does know, is that after her nine chances are up, something bad will happen and it’s not something she wants to find out.

The only clue she has to finding out when her chances are maybe being used is the pain she feels in her chest when she’s in a dangerous situation. This can sometimes cause her to falter in her escape and cause more harm in that particular situation, though the pain can be negated with the help of either magic or specially brewed medicine.

memoirs

i.

Born on a moonless night, Kang Seulgi was very much a mistake.

Born to a faceless father and a mother who never wanted her, she was passed to the first person who would take her and maybe, that was the beginning of her bad luck.

ii.

She’s raised with her grandmother in a small farming town outside of the city, having only seen her mother through old, faded images. Secrets are always eventually leaked between the gossiping neighbours and she’s soon enough branded as the child of a whore, and the local kids have something to tease her about, though she doesn’t understand.

If her parents didn’t want her, then why did she need them?

When she repeats those words to her grandmother later that night, the elder’s lips curl up into a slight smile, hushes her and tells her to finish her meal.

iii.

They’ve never had money and it’s a struggle to put Seulgi through school. Her grandmother was getting too old to work, her mother barely sent any allowance anymore and so at 15 she drops out to pick up odd jobs. Commuting to the middle school in the next town was a hassle anyway. Her grandmother doesn’t approve, saying that they’d somehow find a way because the neighbours always helped, but it was because the neighbours always helped that they were beginning to want to stop.

This world was never made to be fair.

She leaves her grandmother at 16 to move to Suwon. At the very least she would be able to pick up better paying jobs, more money could be sent home and luckily, her boss offers her the cramped storage room above the restaurant, even though instant rice is all she has for a while. Its her first time in a big city and she gets scammed once, stolen from three times, but calls are still made every other day, payments are made fortnightly and somehow, they manage to survive.

iv.

She’s almost 18 when her world is turned upside down.

Everything happens at once – her grandmother passes, the payment for the latest medical bill is being followed up, she needs to leave the storage room to make way for the new tenant that wanted to expand on the second level and then there’s the unsettling feeling in her chest that won’t go away. She quits her jobs and heads home as soon as she can, the feeling in her chest only getting tighter the closer she gets to home, but reality doesn’t hit her until she’s standing in the same room as the woman rumoured to be her mother, in front of her grandmother’s dead body.

They don’t talk, but Seulgi cries because her world is gone and from the looks of it, her mother didn’t even want to be there. She doesn’t leave that night, doesn’t invite her mother home the next morning and by evening on the second day, she’s gone. There’s no note, but there’s cash and Seulgi doesn’t know if due to guilt or responsibility, but she’s thankful in that moment that she can at least give her grandmother a proper funeral.

v.

She manages to make a bit of money by selling the stuff she doesn’t need or can’t keep. She keeps some jewellery and some photos, but the rest she burns, because those memories aren’t hers and she doesn’t need any memories of her mother. At 18, she finds someone to help her rent out the house and for once in her life, money is not an issue.

The issue is when her mother turns up once more out of the blue and demands the keys to the house, and all Seulgi can do is scream at her in the street and run away. Running, running, running, because she needed to get away and who the hell does this woman think she is? Traitor. Her emotions flood through her, the anger, sadness, loneliness taking over, moulding into one, and then she’s running faster than she’s ever run before, but the world seems different.

The lights and shadows seemed to dance in her peripheral, her senses became a little sharper and somehow, everything looked a little bigger.

A little too big.

She slows down, because by now she’s well towards the outskirts of the town and looking down, Seulgi almost gets the shock of her life. Since when was the ground so close… and why did she have paws?

vi.

When she returns home, its because her time as a feline is up. She doesn’t know who to go to for help, but when she arrives, the lights are on and her belongings are heaped outside of the gate and Seulgi doesn’t need her mother to tell her what she wants. Gathering her belongings, she makes sure she has everything and then turns on her heel to leave– this time, for good.

vii.

By 20, Seulgi’s figured out this transformation trick of hers. Without someone to teach her, trial and error becomes her teacher and eventually, she finds small uses with her new skill. Having made a little home out in an abandoned cabin the forest, fruit growing on trees is easier to obtain and free snacks in town were easier to come by (though taste is a different matter). But the more she stayed changed, the more energy she used until eventually, Seulgi would come home exhausted and sleep the day away.

A visitor waiting for her outside her cabin after one morning run is all she needs to find out that she’s actually something called a familiar. She learns that because she’s relying on her own power, she’s unable to do much in her cat form and that she needs to be bound to a witch to create a relationship of mutual benefits.

She doesn’t like the sound of needing to rely on others, and the words could also be sweet lies. If there’s anything the world has taught her, is that reality is harsh and free is rare, but her curiosity gets the better of her and besides, don’t they say cats have nine lives?

viii.

She’s never been in this much pain before.

The pain sears through her chest, forcing its way into her veins and Seulgi’s curled up on the floor, clawing at the wooden boards in a futile attempt to find some sort of distraction, but nothing can distract her from this. She’s gasping for air like a fish out of water, but every breath feels like a knife to her lungs and the only thing the Witch can seem to do is stare with a look of disdain.

“You rejected it.” She says plainly, as soon as Seulgi can hear over the blood rushing through her ears.

“What the hell did you do?” She hisses through clenched teeth. It’s almost a miracle when’s she’s able to push herself up into a sitting position, her head starting to clear up and cool down, but the pain doesn’t subside and throbs in her chest, almost with an iron grip around her heart.  

“I told you I could help.”

This time Seulgi’s eyes are defiant, narrowing them at the woman standing on the other side of the shed. “I don’t need you.” The only person who had ever needed and wanted her was now gone and the only person she could rely on was herself, because all anyone else had done was smile to her face and talked behind her back.

She doesn’t need anyone.

ix.

It turns out that she does need someone.

The pain comes and goes in waves, better on some days than others. It hurts to transform, so she doesn’t, and she spends her days rationing the rest of her food and staying curled up in her bed. It’s easier to tire, so the days are spent sleeping until she’s gathered enough energy to be able to bring herself to get more food, only to repeat the cycle over and over.

The pain also never fully goes away, intensified when the Witch shows up at her doorstep once more and this time, with another. They ignore her hostile greeting and sit her down, the second Witch more respectful than her counterpart, offering her a medicine of sorts. It helps to calm her down enough to listen to what they have to say, but what they tell her is not the kind of thing she wants to hear.

“The contract backfired because you rejected it,” is the first thing she hears. “And the resulting negative energy is now acting like a curse, because you’ve let your body become so weak.”

She learns then that the contract was not supposed to be broken or rejected in the manner it was and that the rejection was a big deal between familiars and witches.

Somehow, they manage to figure out some of the details of her curse, finding out of her nine chances to get lucky in life threatening situations, although what will happen when her nine chances are up is left to fate. The one thing that’s clear is that she can no longer form a bond with the first Witch and that in order for her to survive, she needs to partner up with another.

“I’ll think about it.” Are the words she tells the witches, and with a sigh they get up to leave.

“Think fast, for you may not have very long left.”

x.

She moves to Busan soon after, wanting to leave her past behind. There was nothing waiting for her but bad memories and ruins of what used to be her old life. Maybe the ocean could wash all her worries away, but even she knows it’s not as easy as that. Eventually she makes up her mind and researches ways to entice some witches in her direction, because if she wanted to live, she’d have to make some compromises.

Maybe one day they would be able to rid her of her curse, but until then, she’d have to play nice.

“Hey. You’re a witch, right? Looking for a familiar?”

[nightmareonfilmstreet]

[Recap] HBO’s SHARP OBJECTS Episode One: Vanish

It was not long ago that the world was gifted with the twisted tale of the beautiful, yet cunning sociopath housewife, Amy Elliot of Gillian Flynn’s murder mystery Gone Girl. Her second published novel and David Fincher’s (Seven, Fight Club) 2014 film adaptation starring Ben Affleck (Justice League, The Accountant) and Rosamund Pike (Jack Reacher, Pride & Prejudice) stirred up quite a discussion among readers and viewers giving us something with more flavor to chew on than most crime dramas have before. Flynn is not afraid to creep into the dark places of our minds (see what I did there?) and skillfully forces us to follow along. It is now that her first published (and easily darkest) novel Sharp Objects, is being given the on-screen treatment by Blumhouse Productions and Entertainment One.

The premiere of the first episode this past Sunday evening, exclusively on HBO, drew fans back into Flynn’s intriguing world of murder, secrets, sex, and lies. Proving that not only is her storytelling back in an all new way, but that it was always there from the beginning.

Sharp Objects, a psychological thriller if there ever was one, focuses on an observant, but emotionally troubled reporter Camille Preaker, lured back to her Missouri hometown of Wind Gap, and her own treacherous past, to cover the story of a potential serial killing leaving one young girl dead and one girl missing all within the span of about nine months.

Though it sounds like a typical plot line with a guess-who-the-killer-is hook, much like Wind Gap itself, there is so much more to Sharp Objects beneath the surface.

Let’s start with a recap, shall we?

    Sharp Objects Recap: Episode 1

Properly named Vanish, the first episode of this limited series does well to set us up with our main character, Camille, played by Amy Adams (Arrival, American Hustle), and the reasoning behind her hometown return. It presents the plot that will drive the next seven episodes: Camille will report on the murder of one child, Ann, and the disappearance of another, Natalie. We are acquainted with the setting, the seemingly reticent town of Wind Gap. Everything in between introduces us to the suspicious ensemble of secondary characters, those of which include the affluent Adora and Alan Crellin – Camille’s mother and step-father, their capricious 13-year old daughter Amma, the local badge Chief Vickery,  Adora’s obnoxious but lovable estranged friend Jackie, John Keene – the dreamy, but brooding brother of Natalie, and the handsome out-of-town detective Richard Willis.

We see Camille hesitant to return home, pushed only to return in order to please her editor. Proven especially with her chilling family’s welcoming being anything but warm. Upon arrival in Wind Gap, Camille is met with a resistant Chief Vickery as he judicially vies to protect the town and all the secrets it harvests from public exposure.

Camille pokes and prods her way around town running into essential characters including some very mature preteen girls hanging around the search party.  Jackie, who’s recently had a minor “falling out” with her mother, and the new detective in town who seems hesitant to share anything with Camille aside from a drink… for now.

The relationship she has with her perfect mother, Adora, played by the talented Patricia Clarkson (The Green Mile), is obviously tense and effected by some important event that is soon to reveal itself as the woman chooses to remain completely indifferent to who her daughter is and what she does for a living. Within a few lines of dialogue its easy to see her mother is not all there mentally and is dangerously obsessed with what people think and say about her. The people of Wind Gap are not privy to those who are different, but there will be much more to say about that throughout the series. Her stepsister, Amma, a puzzle all her own, seems to play both the wild street tart by day and the innocent china doll of the Crellin home by night. Camille learns the proper girl building a miniature house in the living room that her mother dotes on just so happens to be one of the cheeky preteens she observed on roller skates smoking a joint outside of the search party.

She can barely last a full ten minutes in the large family mansion before running out the front door as her memories, literally, chase her. Like anyone facing the company of wretched family, the artificial etiquette of neighbors, and the sugar-coated town she once ran from on top of a grizzly child murder and disappearance, Camille overindulges in booze and, not without distraction, trying her best to stick to her professional purpose as best as she can. She struggles against being absorbed by this toxic town, but that may prove to be a difficult task when she is being quickly outnumbered by her demons. She reverts to the local dive bar, seemingly familiar territory, to temporarily escape.

    Camille is able to interview Ann’s father in an attempt to keep her story relevant and pull the pieces together to find Natalie. The grief-stricken father offers up little information other than that Ann was different from the other girls her age, something Camille can empathize with being an outsider her whole life as well. His demeanor is predictably off-kilter.

When Camille crosses paths with the preteens again, who are now accompanied by Natalie’s handsome older brother, pillaging the town’s memorial for mementos. The tension is broken by screams of true fear coming from the local diner.

Natalie’s body is found propped up against a window between the diner and another building, in broad daylight. They all rush to the scene, but it is clear the poor girl is dead. As much as Adora and the locals want to push the bad thought aside, Wind Gap will have to face reality and come to terms with the ghastly gut-punch that is a real life serial killer in their midst. A child murderer.

Our episode concludes with Camille slipping herself into a hot bath, for the first time exposing her bare body to us covered in striking scars. Dozens of words are etched into her skin from neck to ankle, Vanish being predominant before the end credits appear.

  Analysis

Aside from increasing the pace and working Camille’s homecoming into one episode for time’s sake, it looks like Sharp Objects will align pretty closely to the novel. Readers are sure to appreciate this, if it remains consistent, as Flynn’s story is an enigma in need of no changes.

The story unfolds exquisitely and harshly all at once, like a knife piercing skin. Initially, you’re numb to the blade, but once that blood starts moving you can’t help but feel the rush of pain.

Amy Adams steps into the part of a stressed, introverted, complicated loner with such ease it is almost impossible to remember that she once played the role of a merry, vibrant singing princess in Enchanted. Her performance is everything we can expect from the actress and more. Somehow she shows the anxious movements and heavy baggage Camille hauls around with her physically making the character real, like someone you grew up with and bumped into at the local grocery store 15 years later. It’s obvious she is beautiful as it’s noted Camille was always a looker, but over time and some serious self-torment she has hardened and that shows in her appearance. That is the Amy Adams we are seeing here. Still beautiful, but rough. She has that look of disconnect at first and slowly we can see her acclimating now that she’s returned to the place she once called home. Even her slight Missouri accent, and the way it strengthens over time of reverted subjection to the locals, is enough to show off her fierce acting chops. She is absolutely fantastic.

    I truly enjoyed the flashback scenes and semi-dream sequences and the way they drift in and out of Camille’s consciousness. My own sister, who knows nothing about film, even commented on liking the way the memories came into play cutting off reality into silence and pure thought processing. Is that not what happens when we think of something in our own minds while carrying on a conversation with other people? When we walk into a familiar room, do we not think of what took place there, ghosts appearing right before our eyes, all the while remaining in present time? Viewers may be a little confused by the ins and outs of this flashback technique, but in all good time it will make sense and prove necessary. The way her childhood thoughts manifest themselves leading one scene into another is truly eerie and gives Sharp Objects the scary little edge we crave. The unknown is supreme here, almost like a character itself. There is no exposition to this story, we are along with Camille in figuring things out when it comes to these murders as well as recalling the dark thoughts and memories she’s worked to hard to push aside.

  “The unknown is supreme here, almost like a character itself.”

  Director Jean-Marc Vallee (Big Little Lies) does a fantastic job bringing this strange, yet common word to life. His plays on color and light truly set the mood for the shady histories set in Wind Gap and the ugliness our characters hide. Everything from the ominous music to the delicate china is meticulously perfected, setting a tantalizing tone that we can only hope lasts us through to the end. Vallee’s flair for the feminine and the frightening in a real world setting is untouchable.

Viewers should be aware that Sharp Objects is deep in hidden subject matter and begs us to question our relationships with others as with ourselves. It’s a story I relate to personally so I am extremely ready to share my thoughts and will be happily at the forefront to travel into Wind Gap with you, exploring this interesting territory and all the seedy secrets laid within its rich farmland over the next few weeks. In my opinion, as an initial episode setting up a lot of ground only a first-person narrated novel can establish, Vanish was a success.

Stay tuned as we’ll see what Camille digs up next Sunday for Sharp Object’s second episode, Dirt – on HBO.

    The post [Recap] HBO’s SHARP OBJECTS Episode One: Vanish appeared first on Nightmare on Film Street - Horror Movie Podcast, News and Reviews.

from WordPress https://nofspodcast.com/recap-hbos-sharp-objects-episode-one-vanish/ via IFTTT

[twins-parted]

                          Find Out The Boys Are ... Different. ( Meme ) || Accepting Selectively !!!

🎇 for jonah

( The response is under a cut because of length. ) 

Singularity was never an option. 

Not for the twins. 

The Trimble boys are a cohesive entity, mirror reflections of each other - as identical twins often are. There are very fine differences between the brothers, certainly. However, there are none so remarkable that an untrained eye could ever differentiate between the two on only physicalities. 

Wordlessly, they clasp hands - a ritual repeated many times since childhood ... yet another blatant reminder they are bonded together come hell or high water. Two pale faces peer down at their prize: one completely unfazed, the other’s eyes glimmering with dread and morbid anticipation.  

The boys watched the detective writhe against the cracked pavement with the same cold & unfeeling blue eyes and intent expressions they often wore when they were without one another’s company for too long. Jonah’s anxious face is likely out of place now. 

He is aware of what he’s taking part in, his focus - though wavering - is resolute for the moment. Yet, it still feels like he’s somehow standing outside his own body taking this ungodly display in. He wants to break free, rip his hand away from Seth’s ... but, for what ?? 

At the end of the day - he couldn’t let his brother down.  

After all, he had helped Seth lure the more dim-witted of the local PD’s lackeys to this spot in the park. 

( Why, he could not remember ... but, they had panicked and in so doing, absently ended up on one of the park’s open trails. ) 

Jonah opens his mouth to tell Seth they should make it quick. If the the detective smashed his own head against the concrete path, ( with the influence of reality manipulation ), they’d be completely out of the running for contenders in a suspect line-up. The man had suffered enough, Jonah supposed. Before he can voice this, Seth merely nods and they watch in transfixed determination as Detective Beaumont repeated crashed his skull against the sidewalk. Only a bloody pulp remains at the back of his head, the skull there exposed and shattered. It was a sickening and gory display & he was glad it was over. 

Except, before he can voice his relief: Seth’s head snaps up, nostrils flaring as he glares across the path towards a small clump of trees along the way.

“ What’s she doing here ?! “ Seth hisses angrily. 

( There is a sickly moment of clear recognition as Jonah sees his friend’s dazed face across from them. He finally remembers, they were set to hang out ... and he was meeting her here. Jonah can’t force the words out because now, he’s choking on them. He didn’t want one of the only people he had for support to hate him, or worse, be frightened by him. 

...

or, worse worse, for her to go to the police with this information. )

This was a bad situation all around. 

Shit.  

“ I’ll get rid of her, don’t worry. “ 

Jonah shakes his head to clear it, hand recoiling from his brother’s grip as the meaning of Seth’s rage takes full affect in his own cloudy mind. He isn’t aware of pushing Seth away, or standing in the space between them as a barrier. 

( Again, he’s watching the scene play out from a distance, even as he lives it. What a curious headspace to be in at a time like this. Probably just the effects of their gift manifesting on them. ) 

“ If you try it ... if you take a step closer to her, well - I’ll have to hurt you, Seth. “   

Jonah’s voice is guarded with a dangerous edge as he levels his brother’s gaze. Returning malice with more malice, anger with more pent-up anger. Jonah was not willing to lose out on having a life outside of his identity as a twin anymore. 

Cassidy had told him before that he had just as much worth outside of Seth’s control as he did playing the sensitive voice of reason to his brother’s egomaniacal ways.

( Now, Jonah just had to hope Seth wouldn’t call his bluff, because he wasn’t 100% sure that he could carry through on his threats. He couldn’t risk telling her to run though, to break his concentration on Seth could be the difference in a verbal assault and a physical one. ) 

“ You know I will. “  

Very quickly he glances her way and addresses the situation as best he can at the moment:

“ This must be very confusing, but if you let me de-escalate the situation ... I’ll explain everything. You can still trust me, I swear. “ 

‘ Yeah ... it really looks like it, huh, Jonah ? ‘

[justjen523]

The Birthday Blunder

For: goddess-of-leo  (Happy Birthday!)

Raiting M

Reader x Leon

For Fun I am also working on an art piece that shows Leon in his Kingly form. I will post it when I am finished. Hope you enjoy!

     It was a disaster. Everything that had been so carefully planned for weeks was ruined in a mere moment. Speechless I just stood in the doorway of the living room with my mouth agape and my eyes filling with tears. Yet somehow I still managed to go unnoticed as the gods quarreled among themselves. The beautiful cake I handmade because I wanted to share this special day for me with the twelve gods who had become such an intricate part of my life decorated many areas of the room. The decorations tattered, even what had appeared to be presents were trampled and all I could do was stand there in complete shock.

     “W-Why?” I finally asked yet my voice was so quiet amidst the loud insults and profanity being exchanged mere feet away. By some miracle Aigonorous was the one to hear me and pointed to where I was standing. As one by one each head turned in my direction the previously chaotic room fell quiet.

     “Goldfish. What are you doing here, you’re supposed to still be working.” Leon actually had the nerve to look agitated by my unannounced arrival. I could feel the anger rising within as I looked around at the destruction and lack of remorse from everyone. They truly must not understand how much time and effort when into all of this. It was MY birthday and here I was thinking of them instead of myself and this is the thanks I get? I couldn’t swallow my anger any further.

     “Animals!”

     “I beg your pardon?” Zyglavis says incredulously.

     “All of you! Behaving like animals!”

     “What did you call me?!” For once Scorpio’s glare didn’t even register to me.

     “Now hold on, I get why you’re angry but it’s not that big of a deal - “ Leon started to say but the hurt was bubbling over especially hearing my boyfriend’s careless indifference. 

     “Not that big of a deal?! How dare you!” Looking around they all stared at me in surprise. I had never yelled or scolded Leon in front of the other’s before. 

     “Wooooow. She’s like REAAAALLY scary when she’s mad.” Ichthys tries whispering to Dui but it’s not like I couldn’t hear it in the silence of the room.

     “I....” Realizing my birthday was ruined and they didn’t even seem to care the anger gave way to hurt. All at once my emotions poured out in the form of tears and I began to sob.

     “Now look what you guys have done...” Leon sounded angry but I knew he was shaken. He hated when I cried because of something he had done but more than that, he hated when I cried in front of anyone other than him.

     “Us? I believe you are equally to blame.” Huedhaut boldly replied earning a fiercely angry look from the ruler of Leo.

     “I.....*sob* think I.....*hic*....” I stopped before saying the next word. Even now I am still always putting their feelings before my own.

     “You what?” Krioff asked brusquely only further breaking my heart.

     “I...wish I never met you. Any of you!” There, I said it even though I absolutely did not mean it but I was sick of always being the considerate one. I wanted them to feel it like I did and I couldn’t think of another way even if it was harsh and cruel sounding. 

     I had been staring at my feet but when I looked up I was surprised at what I saw. Twelve truly pained and heartbroken expressions stared directly at me. I wanted so badly to apologize and take it back but if I did they would never learn and this kind of stuff would continue to happen. I couldn’t handle it anymore.

     “I’m going home, I can’t stand to be here anymore.” Tears still streaming down my face I turned to leave.

     “Goldfish.” His voice was gentle and full of sadness. I knew it hurt him more than any of the others but that pain had gone both ways. I thought of all of them he would have understood better than anyone how important this all had been to me.

     “I...just want to be alone. All alone, in my apartment, on my birthday.” I quickly made my way toward the exit but was impeded by the door abruptly closing and locking from the other side. I knew it was his handiwork but I didn’t even bother to turn around.

     “Let me pass.”

     “I can’t do that. Not like this.”

     “I don’t want to - “

     “- be around us I know, you already said so.”

     “Then let me go.”

     “Not until we make this right.” At his words I slowly turn to face him. He slowly crosses the room almost apprehensively but pushes forward till we are face to face. I can see the realization of the pain they caused in his beautiful eyes. He gently runs the back of his hand down my tear stained cheek.

     “I will grant whatever your heart desires. Just tell me what you want. I...don’t want to see you like this anymore. I’m......”

     “...you’re what?” He’ll never do it. Impossible. He stares at me intently for a few moments before furrowing his brow and sighing deeply.

     “Look, I’m sorry. You’re right, what we did was...”

     “....stupid? Immature? Ridiculous?” I was laying it on pretty thick even though the unthinkable had just happened.

     “D-Did Leon seriously just apologize to someone?” Hearing that he glared at the culprit before turning back to me.

     “Yeah, we were acting like - “

     “Animals.” I finished his sentence crossing my arms in front of me.

     “We get it. Everyone’s sorry, right guys?” His dangerously intense stare caused apology after apology from every god in the room.

     “What can I do to make you smile?” He asks tenderly. Still slightly aggravated I try to think of a way for them to make it up to me. Staring into his eyes I can’t help but think the same thing I always do. How handsome and though arrogant I have come to find his royalty vibe endearing. He made all of the other Zodiac gods apologize to me, a mere human with nothing more than a look. ‘My Leon. My brave and fearsome Lion....’ If only he were able to be tamed like a Lion. How adorable would that be? My own personal big bad kitty. Teehee!

**POOF**

     Out of nowhere a cute little box with a big pink bow manifests out of thin air right in my hands.

     “What on Earth?” As soon as I begin to pull the ribbon Leon’s face turns ashen.

     “Goldfish don’t - “ But it’s too late, inside the box is a tiny piece of paper that simply says,

     “Happy Birthday,  From the King.” ‘Huh?’ All of the sudden the room is engulfed in a blinding light and I shield my eyes waiting for it to pass. When it does the sight before me is so ridiculously precious and adorable I can’t help the giggling that follows. 

     “O-Oh my gosh! You guys are...all SO cute! Eeee!” I sound like a little kid but I can’t help it, seeing them like this makes it impossible not to smile from ear to ear.

     “Goddamn that bastard. Stupid woman! Why the hell did you open that?!” Scorpio is so adorable that his words don’t even sound frightening to me.

     “Ummm. Seriously though, why cats?” Krioff blushes looking put out as his white ears turn backward in distress. 

     “This is great! Teo and Ikky pull each other’s tail’s to see if it hurts when they do so.

     “Wow! These tails are SO real!”

     “Why just ears and tails though?” Dui ponders as the rest of the gods are all touching their new additions.

     It isn’t till I actually get a good look at Leon that my heart nearly gives out. He looks utterly PISSED but is so cute it’s actually fitting. Not only does he have the ears and tale but he also has a mane.

     “Teehee.”

     “Don’t you dare laugh. This is all your fault. You better figure out how to turn me back. Now.” A giant smile spreads across my face.

     “Nuh-uh. You said you would grant any wish my heart desired. I want to enjoy seeing all of you like this for the rest of the day! You all still owe me a party anyway right?” I am beaming, what a great gift from the King! I know I am going to pay dearly for it later but oh it is SO worth it.

     “You’re awfully bold demanding such nonsense from gods.” Zyglavis as always is angry but it comes across adorably as his fluffy purplish tail flicks sharply back and forth. 

     “Teeheehee. Somehow you don’t seem as scary to me now Zyglavis. You’re fluffiness makes you look much kinder.” I can’t stop myself from scratching behind his ear making him blush so hard it just makes it even cuter.

      “You can pet me too if you want.” Ichthys offers playfully before getting a scowl that actually makes Leon look like a beast rather than a cute animal. I approach him and though he looks angry I see relief in his eyes to see me smiling.

     “Don’t even think about it.” He grumbles as I start to reach out to touch him. 

     “Call it what you will but I am not your pet.” I try hard to suppress the laughter threatening to pour out.

     “Awww, who’s my big bad kitty?” I say in a teasing way earning me a death glare but it quickly gives way to a devious smirk.

     “You’re awfully brave, you do realize that Lions often enjoy eating seafood. You must have a death wish goldfish.” ‘Eeeep! That grin is extra scary with him looking this predatory.’ As he begins to close in on me I begin to shrink away but when I notice his tail waving around playfully something different pops into my mind altogether. ‘He’s still got a man’s body....I wonder....’

     “Pffft. You’re thinking about something pretty bold.” His words snap me back to reality and causes me to blush deeply even as I try desperately to deny it.

     “I....” Before I can finish I hear a commotion  behind me. The gods have been taking turns testing to see if their powers could undo the King’s spell but as always he’s one step ahead making that impossible. 

     “If we have to look this ridiculous why doesn’t she join us.” Scorpio smirks darkly. The gods all grin and nod in amusement as they close in on me. I slowly back away before calling for Leon. When I turn to face him I am surprised to see him actually looking like he approves of the others idea. 

     “N-Now just hold on a minute! T-this isn’t it...” 

**SNAP**

     Leon is actually the one who does it making the whole thing kinda of embarrassing as the others all look at me the same way I was previously looking at them. 

     “Woooow! He even gave her a cute little nose and whiskers!” Ichthys grins from ear to ear. 

     “Ohhh! She has paws too!” Dui gushes making me feel like I am going to die from embarrassment.

     “My my Leon, what a lucky man you are tonight.” The way Partheno says that makes me somehow uncomfortable. When I turn to look at my boyfriend he is looking the most entertained I have ever seen him.

     “What? This is what you wanted.” He says smugly giving me that smile I want to simultaneously smack and kiss him for. Instead I am handed a mirror to see my new....attire. 

     “H-Hey! What’s with the cute stuff?! Couldn’t you have made me, I don’t know, like a sexy cat?”

     “What’s wrong with the way you are? I prefer you this way. Besides, it suits you better.” ‘! What’s that supposed to mean!?’

     “Well I must admit, Leon doesn’t strike me as the kind who likes pink.” Partheno says suggestively.

     “You shouldn’t be thinking about what I like at all you pervert.” As the two go back and forth I again look at my reflection in the mirror. I don’t look exactly like the others. I’m more feline than they are and even some of my human features have changed simply to match the rest. Everything is pink. My fluffy ears, fluffy tail, my eyes, my hair, my paws, even my clothes have been changed into a cute little pink ensemble. I had no idea my boyfriend was into such things! ‘Ahaha! Happy Birthday to ME!’

     As I look over at Leon being aggressive in his current state I can’t help but feel more attracted to him than usual. I slowly move closer to him and once I’m close enough I feel this overwhelming urge to nuzzle against him. When I do he immediately tenses and I can see a faint blush on his cheeks and for some reason I actually start purring. 

     “Looks like your stupid woman’s in heat, better handle that before someone else does.” Scorpio’s comment causes a slew of arguments and having had enough Leon wraps his arm around me and snaps.

     He brought us to his room in the Heaven’s without so much as a word but when I looked up to see his face he didn’t look angry like I expected. No, he was looking at me like I was dessert. I swallowed thickly slowly backing away making him laugh.

     “Do you honestly believe you can escape me? I’d actually like to see you try.” He was smiling at me wickedly causing a sweet rush of sensation through me. I was terrified but equally turned on somehow. I liked when he was dominating and seeing him aggressively hunting me was intoxicating. 

     “Obey me and come here.” There was no way I could refuse him. Not when he was looking at me this way. Slowly I made my way till I was directly in front of him, a mere breath apart. Even now he still had such a powerful commanding presence. 

     “That’s my good girl.” Then he started petting me. Everywhere. God did it feel GOOD. Too good. I was becoming putty in his hands.

     “L-Leon.......unnnh.” I felt like I was high. Utterly intoxicated.

     “That’s right, give in. Purr for me.” His sensual sexy voice was lulling me further into this strange heady haze I was feeling. My vision was blurring and I felt dizzy but in a strangely good way. His arms scooped me up and carried me to his bed where he gently laid me down before hovering over me. My desire for him was overwhelming as it was somehow amplified but this euphoric feeling washing over me.

     “L-Leon I....I feel....”

     “Good then it’s working.”

     “H-huh? What’s....mmm....working?” I was trying desperately to hold on and not lose myself but I was failing miserably.

     “This.” He smiles mischievously and opens his mouth to reveal a tiny purple flower with a few leaves still attached. Confused I blinked starting to become unable to speak.

     “Since you were enjoying this feline fantasy of yours so very much I thought I’d have a little fun of my own. You’re feeling the effects of this plant. I believe it’s what you humans refer to as catnip.” ‘Wh-Whaaa?’

     “Don’t worry, I’m gonna make you feel so good you’re going to beg me to never turn you back.” Without another word he playfully nipped my neck before removing our clothes with a snap. As he entered me my head tipped back at the exquisite sensation and let out a quiet gasp. There’s a tenderness behind his eyes and no longer able to fight it I give myself over to him mind, body and soul.

     “I am sorry for what happened earlier. It was not my intention to ruin this day for you. Though I may not understand it’s significance I understand your heart and I’m sorry for breaking it today. I promise to put your feelings in front of my own from now on so please. Promise me you’ll never say you regret having met me ever again. I love you more than you could possibly fathom goldfish. You make think me the king of all animals but I assure you, I will always treat you as my queen, animal, human, god or otherwise.” He wipes the tears from my eyes upon hearing his confession and I cuddle into his warmth.

     “Can I ask just one question?” 

     “Hm?”

     “What on Earth were you guys fighting over that caused such destruction in the first place?”

     “Pffft. That foul mouthed Scorpion and his idiot boss were heckling me when I showed up without a wrapped present in hand and starting spouting off about things they shouldn’t.” 

     “I don’t need a present from you to be happy. I’m happy now just like this, safely snuggled in your arms.”

     “How ridiculous.”

     “Leon!”

     “It’s ridiculous that you think I would have nothing to give you on your birthday. I could give you anything you asked of me. However I could not give you anything more valuable to me than my heart. No one makes me feel the way you do. No one ever has and no one ever will. I will lavish you in my love until you beg for me to stop.”

     “Geeze Leon.” My cheeks and ears are hot upon hearing his words.

     “But thank you. There is nothing I could ever want more than that. I love you with every fiber of my being.” As I gaze up into those gorgeous eyes the love I feel for him is reflected right back at me. A tender smile fills his handsome face as he reached his hand out and scratches behind my ear causing me to purr again.

     “You know, I think I could get used to this. You make a better cat than a goldfish anyway.”

     “Wait what!? What’s that supposed to mean?”

     “You’re far more obedient this way.”

     “H-Hey!” I teasingly hit his arm making him laugh. 

     “As long as your mine, I don’t care what you want to be.” I smile at him getting misty eyed again.

     “Happy Birthday goldfish. I love you more than any words could ever say.”

-Fin-

[curewhimsy]

Bianca character development

Questionnaire by @thecaffeinebookwarrior

1.  Ask yourself these basic questions:

How old are they mentally/spiritually?  Do they have an old soul, or are they a perpetual kid at heart?  Does their personality not coincide with their physical age?

Bianca is both an old soul and a perpetual child at heart. She’s a bit like a sweet old grandma, but she is youthful and has a whimsical imagination like a child.

What do they care about most in the world?  What would they die for?

Bianca really cares for the world to be at peace and for nobody to have to live through war and trauma anymore. She probably would die to save the world. Bianca is selfless to a fault, but she constantly feels selfish because she wants it to be herself that makes a difference and not anyone else. 

What are their interests?  What books, movies, and shows do they read/watch religiously?  What do they geek out over?

Bianca really loves old fantasy stories and fairy tales. She loves things like Alice in Wonderland or The Wizard of Oz, where a normal person like her enters a magical world. Little did Bianca know, it would happen to her in a way she never imagined. Bianca probably really likes My Little Pony. 

What’s the most embarrassing thing that ever happened to them?  Have they told anyone?  If so, who?

Many embarrassing things have happened to Bianca. (Embarrassing by her standards). The early Whimsica Saga chapters are filled with embarrassing moments for Bianca. She would tell people she trusts, like her friends and family.

On that note, what is one secret they’ve never told anyone?

Bianca has never told anyone that she sort of has a crush on Paprika.

What was their childhood like?  Was it happy?  Tragic?  Why or why not?

Oh boy. *cracks knuckles*

Time for a novel.

Bianca’s grandmother, Blanca Luna (With an L), was a magical girl. As a child, Bianca’s grandmother was very shy and lonely, much like her granddaughter would be before her adventure starts. She was born and raised in Argentina.

Bianca’s grandmother had an imaginary friend, Isabel, and an imaginary world she created in her head. Due to the magic power (”erratic magic”) that she didn’t know she had, the world was actually coming to life somewhere in the universe.

When Bianca’s grandmother was 16, she found herself in a magical world, the world of Whimsica. She then discovers that this world had been created with a bit of her own magic, along with the imagination of people on Earth. This is her world!

(Explaining exactly how she “created” it with magic would take a long explanation of erratic magic. It’s a very hard to control, potentially dangerous form of reality-warping magic, and is considered a glitch rather than a power. It manifests itself in strange ways.)

Bianca’s grandmother had a stuffed cat named Mittens that came to life. Eventually, Mittens dies. Bianca buys another stuffed cat named Snowbell to replace Mittens, but it isn’t the same. (This becomes important later.)

Bianca’s grandmother began to raise a child named Blanche, who will become Bianca’s mother. Then they left because Whimsica was becoming too dangerous due to a war with Planet Monochrome, the planet of negativity. Since Whimsica’s creator abandoned it, things started to fall apart further...

Back on Earth, Bianca’s grandmother moves to America to raise her daughter.

Bianca’s grandmother had Blanche’s memory of Whimsica erased to keep Whimsica a secret from everyone to protect any Earth people from having to go there to fight Planet Monochrome.

Bianca’s grandmother died of an illness rather suddenly when she was in her 60′s, when Bianca was a little girl. The death traumatized Bianca and affected her greatly.

Bianca lived her life up until 16 years without knowing anything of her magical ancestry, but always had a feeling that her grandmother was magical. Before she died, Bianca’s grandmother gifted Bianca with a plush kitten named Snowbell, who eventually comes to life as Bianca’s companion.

But when Bianca turned 16, on a particularly bad day, her erratic magic leads her to Whimsica... and her adventure begins.

Eventually she finds that this is the world her grandmother created, and has a heartfelt moment with her as an angel, and she becomes a new “owner” of the land, (even though it didn’t really give her any more power or privileges.)

Eventually, Bianca’s mother gets dragged in, and her erased memories of Whimsica come back upon seeing the land.

Bianca is destined to go through a lot of growth and to ultimately become a hero of Whimsica.

How many relationships do they have?  How have they affected them?

Bianca meets several friends in Whimsica, her best friend being another girl from Earth named Camille who also ends up in Whimsica. Bianca has admired Camille for years and yearned to be her friend.

Bianca’s friendships affect her in a positive way, making her become more confident and feel less alone. They have made her stronger.

What is their greatest fear?  

Bianca’s greatest fear and concern is for everything she does to be pointless. She’s afraid that somehow, her dreams for leaving a good mark on the world are ultimately pointless and will never happen.

What was the best thing that ever happened to them?

Discovering Whimsica, that her grandmother was still alive in the land itself, and becoming a hero...

What was the worst thing that ever happened to them?

Her grandmother’s death probably.

If you had to describe the character in one word, what is the first that comes to mind?

Angelic...

2.  Once that’s done, get nosy.

Empty their pockets, backpack, or purse.  Make a list of everything inside.  What do they always take with them?  Why?

Her stuffed cat Snowbell, a fiction book or two, a pencil, a handkerchief, some hair ribbons.

Describe their bedroom.  Is it neat, or messy?  Is it minimalist?  Cluttered?  Are they neat, or messy by nature?  Is there any artwork on the wall, any posters?  Are there lots of books?  A TV?  Stuffed animals?  Be as detailed as you want to be, and think about why your character has these things and what they say about them.

  Bianca’s bedroom is very quaint, cozy, and soft. There is a very soft lavender carpet, some cute rugs, a lot of stuffed animals, and just soft things in general. There is a bookshelf, a closet, a few dressers, a laptop. Her bed is never made and is filled with cushions and stuffed animals.

If they have one, describe their car.  What kind of car do they drive?  How does it correlate with their personality, their career?  Do they keep any photos of loved ones?  Are there lots of fast food containers?

Bianca would have a rather modest car probably, most likely white or silver. She probably decorates the interior too, but not the exterior because she is shy. There’s probably a lavender or vanilla scent, and very soft cushioned seats.

We’ve already touched on this briefly, but think about their books.  Write down at least ten titles on their shelf.  Think about what genres they like, what authors, and why they might enjoy them.

Bianca loves fiction, especially fantasy. On her shelf could be many books intended for a younger audience, but rewritten with a twist perhaps? Also, the classics. Peter Pan, Pinocchio, The Jungle Book, The Snow Queen, many books about adventure, fairies, castles, or all three...

What kind of movie genres do they like?  What kind of TV shows?  Why do they enjoy them?  Do they have any guilty pleasures that they’d rather anyone not know about?  

Bianca probably likes a lot of Disney movies and cartoons, and kids shows like My Little Pony or Adventure Time?

Bianca’s guilty pleasures are either sappy romantic things. Or maybe a movie with a cool, sexy, heroine. For reasons.

Bianca does not like violent movies.

Take a look inside their closet.  What kind of clothes do they wear?  What’s their style?  Can they afford the clothes they’d actually like to wear?  Are they preppy?  Is their closet organized, or is it a hot mess?

Inside the closet, is Bianca. She’s a closet bisexual.

Okay, now let’s be serious.

She has a lot of modest clothes, nothing really flashy. And again, they’re soft. And warm. Their closet is kind of messy but in an organized way. She has a lot of T-shirts, hoodies, and jeans. Dresses and skirts are what she’d like to wear, but feels shy about expressing herself.

3.  Get to know the family.

What are their parents like?  Do they have a good relationship?  Are they friends?  Do they just plain suck?  If so, why?

Bianca had always felt a little bit distant with her mother, Blanche. Blanche is a caring mother but she is a single mother who works two jobs, and she and Bianca don’t see each other much. She has an erased memory of Whimsica, but remembers only bits and pieces, never the whole thing. When her mother (who is also Bianca’s grandmother) died, Blanche also took it very hard.

If they don’t have a good relationship with their parents, are there any parental figures that their close with?  What are they like?

Bianca does not have any siblings, but have always wanted a sister.

Do they have any siblings?  Are they close?  Are they protective of them, or vice versa?

Bianca does not have siblings, but if she did she would be very protective of them.

What is their nationality?  Do they have strong ties to their heritage, or could they care less?

Bianca is a mixed Latina-American. Her grandmother was from Argentina and she married a Mexican man. Bianca’s father is Brazilian. Therefore she is a quarter Argentine, a quarter Mexican, and half Brazilian.

Bianca is albino, so at times she doesn’t feel she belongs with her heritage, even though she is proud of it.

What about their extended family?  Do they have any weird relatives?  (In my opinion, every character should have at least one weird relative.  They are a lot of fun to write.) 

Bianca’s family is rather small and her parents are divorced, so maybe her father married another woman and had more children? I may reveal a younger half brother or sister. Or maybe Bianca has some cousins.

4.   Fill in the details.

Brainstorm random questions about your characters, their likes, dislikes, et cetera.  Here are examples:

What is their favorite food?  

Bianca’s favorite foods are mostly sweets. She loves flan and cheesecake. Her favorite non-sweet food is mushroom alfredo.

Their favorite beverage?  

Grape soda.

Their favorite movie?

Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children

Their favorite book?

Harry Potter series probably, or a certain rendition of Alice in Wonderland

Their favorite TV show?

Sailor Moon and My Little Pony.

What is their dream job?

Probably something having to do with art, writing, books, or animals.

Do they keep a journal?

She did when she was younger.

Do they have good handwriting, or is it illegible from excessive note-taking?  

It’s really messy handwriting, but it also sort of flows like cursive. Pretty, yet illegible.

What’s their favorite color?  

White, light blue, light yellow, and coffee brown.

What’’s their favorite kind of weather?  Do they like sunny days, or rainy ones?

Bianca likes rainy days because they comfort her and makes her feel cozy. She feels bad weather brings people together.

Can they draw?  Are they artistic in general?

Bianca is quite imaginative and creative, but her drawings are a little messy. If she really tries, she may draw something out of this world...

What kind of romantic/sexual partner do they like (if they’re interested in that sort of thing at all)?  Do they have a ‘type?’    

Bianca’s type is someone who makes up for her weaknesses when she’s with them, someone she can chat pleasantly with.

What would their ideal date be (even just with friends)?  Do they like generic dinner and movie-type stuff, or do they favor museums and plays? 

Bianca would love anything where she could just be with that person. Anywhere is fine for her, but she does prefer places she can get to know them better.

What would their ideal afternoon look like?

Relaxing with a few friends.

Do they prefer TV or books?

Books for the most part. Also comics.

Are they introverted or extroverted?  Do they hate social gatherings, or thrive on them?  Do they relish in alone time?

Bianca is an introvert, but sometimes can be extroverted as she loves spending time with a few close friends.

Coffee or tea?

Coffee. She takes it with tons of cream and tons of sugar.

Cats or dogs?

Both, but she prefers cats.

Do they eat breakfast?  If so, what?

Bianca loves omelettes, especially with rice in it. Muffins and pastries are also good.

What’s their opinion on pineapple pizza?

It’s cursed, because would you put cherries on lasagna or peaches on chicken?

[junker-town]

This is who the Celtics always were

The regular season told us everything we needed to know.

BOSTON — In the week off following a four-game sweep of the Indiana Pacers, a common refrain heard around the Celtics practice facility was that we’d finally find out how good they really are. That it would take 91 games to come to a definitive conclusion about this team spoke to a feeling that was both hopefully revisionist and dismissively sarcastic.

They had convincingly shown us over the course of the regular season that these Celtics were a team that played together when it felt like it and didn’t deal well with adversity. They were booed off the court numerous times for their effort as much as their execution, and the collective response to these challenges was to question each other and point fingers.

It was a baffling turn of events for a team that had reached Game 7 of the conference finals last season without Kyrie Irving and Gordon Hayward. How could a team that thrived on being mentally tougher than their opponents continue to crumble under pressure?

The four-game sweep over the Pacers suggested that maybe it had all been a ruse and the regular-season issues were behind them. Their team defense finally locked into place consistently, and everyone seemed to thrive in their roles. It was a nice thought while it lasted, but like so many other false premises this season, it was merely an aberration.

The Pacers, as gritty as they were, simply didn’t have enough offensive talent to really force the issue. The 60-win Bucks with the league’s presumptive Most Valuable Player in Giannis Antetokounmpo would provide a far greater test for the Celtics. And they failed miserably.

After taking Game 1 in surprising fashion, the Celtics melted down in a Game 2 blowout that saw the Bucks get whatever they wanted. It got worse at home in Game 3 when they drifted away from their team concept and reverted back to a season’s worth of bad habits. Surely, it couldn’t have been them, though. Must have been the officials.

Facing a do-or-die Game 4 on their home floor, the Celtics were gifted a golden opportunity to even the series. The calls went their way this time, so much so that Anteokounmpo had to check out early in the third quarter with foul trouble in a tie game. When Khris Middleton joined him a few minutes later, the moment was there. The Celtics responded with all the urgency of mid-January contest.

By the end of the frame, the Bucks had an eight-point lead behind stellar performances from bench players like George Hill and Pat Connaughton. The Celtics went down the way the way they have all season, in a flurry of quick shots and poor transition defense.

“It’s tough,” Al Horford said after that game. “That was a moment there where we could have capitalized more and we didn’t, for some reason. I have to look at the film, but I didn’t feel like we really exploited or played the way we wanted to play. We did it at times but we didn’t do it enough in stretches.”

It somehow managed to get even worse in a Game 5 wipeout that ended with Irving on the bench for the final eight minutes following a 6-for-21 disaster. A gross ending to a miserable campaign.

This is who the 2019 Celtics are and we should have known it all along. As tempting as it was to pretend that the regular season didn’t matter, it told us everything we needed to know about this team. They have performed in this series like an overmatched 4-seed, which is exactly what they are.

***

To be sure, there have been a handful of squads throughout history who have kicked into a higher gear once the postseason rolled around. Those teams were blessed with both great talent and an inherent togetherness born from successful histories together. The Celtics had neither.

It turns out that the talent part of the equation was overstated.

Some of that was simple misfortune. Gordon Hayward was supposed to be the secondary playmaking option next to Kyrie Irving, but his return from a gruesome leg injury has been slow and arduous. Aron Baynes was in and out of the lineup with a variety of big man ailments. Marcus Smart was injured at exactly the wrong time in a meaningless regular-season game, which pretty much summed up the regular season.

Some of that was age. Horford, who remains as invaluable a player as there is in the league, hasn’t been able to match the lofty heights of his postseason play from a year ago when he outplayed Giannis and Philadelphia’s Joel Embiid.

On the flip side of the generational divide, Jayson Tatum’s progress stagnated in a never-ending series of long twos and passive fallaways. Terry Rozier never quite figured out what was needed of him.

Credit where credit is due. Jaylen Brown and Marcus Morris were both solid throughout the postseason and for most of the regular season, as well. More than any of the young players, Brown ultimately accepted his role and found ways to contribute. As he’s done throughout his time in Boston, Morris has performed in every role. The dude is just a gamer.

While the Celtics clearly have “talent,” what they didn’t have was cohesion. Some of that must fall on coach Brad Stevens, who was so masterful at putting players in position to succeed during last year’s run. Beyond X’s and O’s, a coach’s first responsibility is getting buy-in from their players and that didn’t happen consistently.

That manifested itself in a lack of on-court trust and left Irving doing way too much. The Bucks and coach Mike Budenholzer wisely used that against him, loading up their defense to limit his flights of one-on-one fancy. Irving saw waves of double teams and shot just 25-for-83 after Game 1.

“Who cares?” Irving said after Game 4. “I’m a basketball player. Prepare the right way. Like I said, it’s a little different when your rhythm is challenged every play down. You’re being picked up full-court. They’re doing things to test you. The expectations on me are going to be sky high. I try to utilize their aggression against them and still put my teammates in great position, while still being aggressive. I’m trying to do it all. For me, the 22 shots, I should have shot 30. I’m that great of a shooter.”

Like so many Kyrie quotes, it was part inflammatory and part revealing. Who cares may wind up being his Boston epitaph, but buried within the woe-is-me bravado is the tension that defined this Celtics’ season.

What Kyrie is, and what the Celtics achieved without him last spring, has been a constant source of creative friction. The idea/hope was that he and they would form a dynamic machine that could beat you in a number of ways. The reality has been far less than the sum of those experiences.

It was a tempting belief to buy into, given Irving’s unique talent and the Celtics’ tough-minded approach without him and Hayward. Yet, it hasn’t clicked and while there are dozens of reasons why the C’s underachieved, it keeps coming back to that disconnect between what they were and who they’ve become.

***

Before the playoffs began, a Person Who Knows Things whispered in my ear that Kyrie was gone. I asked him if he was telling me or trying to convince me. A little bit of both, he responded.

As everyone knows, Irving can opt out of his contract this summer and become a free agent. This has long been part of the plan because once he does, Danny Ainge will be able to go after Anthony Davis in a trade setting up a partnership that would launch the next Boston era of contention. It’s a weird twist on an unusual set of circumstances.

Irving’s situation is a first for the Celtics. Never before have they had to convince a player to commit to staying after they got to Boston. Throughout their long and storied history players from other teams — some just as eccentric as Kyrie — arrived in town with battle scars from other franchises. Once they became indoctrinated in the Celtic mystique, they never wanted to leave.

Rather than embrace that lineage, Irving has chafed at the expectation at times. He noted on a handful of occasions that people expect perfection, which isn’t exactly true. What they want is effort and commitment, and they’re savvy enough to understand the difference. The result is that this Celtics’ season suffered from an identity crisis.

The working idea was they would go all out to win a championship with their current group. At the same time, they would convince Kyrie to sign on for the long haul and continue laying the groundwork for a potential dynasty that wouldn’t include many of the players on the roster who were asked to sacrifice for the greater good.

How this manifests itself in the offseason remains to be seen. Throughout the season, the Celtics maintained confidence that Kyrie will be back and that a trade for AD can be consummated. The two moves are essentially intertwined. After this disastrous season, how can anyone be truly sure of Kyrie’s intentions?

There are many other considerations. Horford and Baynes can also opt out of their contracts. Morris is a free agent and Rozier will be a restricted free agent. Would an AD deal include Tatum or Brown? Would they have to give up Smart, who has become a beloved figure within the organization and the city?

It’s dangerous to assume anyone has any idea what will happen between now and July, but then this season has always been based on a series of assumptions. The reality is that in an all-or-nothing campaign, the Celtics repeatedly came up empty. Now there’s nothing left but the fallout.

[junker-town]

This is who the Celtics always were

The regular season told us everything we needed to know.

BOSTON — In the week off following a four-game sweep of the Indiana Pacers, a common refrain heard around the Celtics practice facility was that we’d finally find out how good they really are. That it would take 91 games to come to a definitive conclusion about this team spoke to a feeling that was both hopefully revisionist and dismissively sarcastic.

They had convincingly shown us over the course of the regular season that these Celtics were a team that played together when it felt like it and didn’t deal well with adversity. They were booed off the court numerous times for their effort as much as their execution, and the collective response to these challenges was to question each other and point fingers.

It was a baffling turn of events for a team that had reached Game 7 of the conference finals last season without Kyrie Irving and Gordon Hayward. How could a team that thrived on being mentally tougher than their opponents continue to crumble under pressure?

The four-game sweep over the Pacers suggested that maybe it had all been a ruse and the regular-season issues were behind them. Their team defense finally locked into place consistently, and everyone seemed to thrive in their roles. It was a nice thought while it lasted, but like so many other false premises this season, it was merely an aberration.

The Pacers, as gritty as they were, simply didn’t have enough offensive talent to really force the issue. The 60-win Bucks with the league’s presumptive Most Valuable Player in Giannis Antetokounmpo would provide a far greater test for the Celtics. And they failed miserably.

After taking Game 1 in surprising fashion, the Celtics melted down in a Game 2 blowout that saw the Bucks get whatever they wanted. It got worse at home in Game 3 when they drifted away from their team concept and reverted back to a season’s worth of bad habits. Surely, it couldn’t have been them, though. Must have been the officials.

Facing a do-or-die Game 4 on their home floor, the Celtics were gifted a golden opportunity to even the series. The calls went their way this time, so much so that Anteokounmpo had to check out early in the third quarter with foul trouble in a tie game. When Khris Middleton joined him a few minutes later, the moment was there. The Celtics responded with all the urgency of mid-January contest.

By the end of the frame, the Bucks had an eight-point lead behind stellar performances from bench players like George Hill and Pat Connaughton. The Celtics went down the way the way they have all season, in a flurry of quick shots and poor transition defense.

“It’s tough,” Al Horford said after that game. “That was a moment there where we could have capitalized more and we didn’t, for some reason. I have to look at the film, but I didn’t feel like we really exploited or played the way we wanted to play. We did it at times but we didn’t do it enough in stretches.”

It somehow managed to get even worse in a Game 5 wipeout that ended with Irving on the bench for the final eight minutes following a 6-for-21 disaster. A gross ending to a miserable campaign.

This is who the 2019 Celtics are and we should have known it all along. As tempting as it was to pretend that the regular season didn’t matter, it told us everything we needed to know about this team. They have performed in this series like an overmatched 4-seed, which is exactly what they are.

***

To be sure, there have been a handful of squads throughout history who have kicked into a higher gear once the postseason rolled around. Those teams were blessed with both great talent and an inherent togetherness born from successful histories together. The Celtics had neither.

It turns out that the talent part of the equation was overstated.

Some of that was simple misfortune. Gordon Hayward was supposed to be the secondary playmaking option next to Kyrie Irving, but his return from a gruesome leg injury has been slow and arduous. Aron Baynes was in and out of the lineup with a variety of big man ailments. Marcus Smart was injured at exactly the wrong time in a meaningless regular-season game, which pretty much summed up the regular season.

Some of that was age. Horford, who remains as invaluable a player as there is in the league, hasn’t been able to match the lofty heights of his postseason play from a year ago when he outplayed Giannis and Philadelphia’s Joel Embiid.

On the flip side of the generational divide, Jayson Tatum’s progress stagnated in a never-ending series of long twos and passive fallaways. Terry Rozier never quite figured out what was needed of him.

Credit where credit is due. Jaylen Brown and Marcus Morris were both solid throughout the postseason and for most of the regular season, as well. More than any of the young players, Brown ultimately accepted his role and found ways to contribute. As he’s done throughout his time in Boston, Morris has performed in every role. The dude is just a gamer.

While the Celtics clearly have “talent,” what they didn’t have was cohesion. Some of that must fall on coach Brad Stevens, who was so masterful at putting players in position to succeed during last year’s run. Beyond X’s and O’s, a coach’s first responsibility is getting buy-in from their players and that didn’t happen consistently.

That manifested itself in a lack of on-court trust and left Irving doing way too much. The Bucks and coach Mike Budenholzer wisely used that against him, loading up their defense to limit his flights of one-on-one fancy. Irving saw waves of double teams and shot just 25-for-83 after Game 1.

“Who cares?” Irving said after Game 4. “I’m a basketball player. Prepare the right way. Like I said, it’s a little different when your rhythm is challenged every play down. You’re being picked up full-court. They’re doing things to test you. The expectations on me are going to be sky high. I try to utilize their aggression against them and still put my teammates in great position, while still being aggressive. I’m trying to do it all. For me, the 22 shots, I should have shot 30. I’m that great of a shooter.”

Like so many Kyrie quotes, it was part inflammatory and part revealing. Who cares may wind up being his Boston epitaph, but buried within the woe-is-me bravado is the tension that defined this Celtics’ season.

What Kyrie is, and what the Celtics achieved without him last spring, has been a constant source of creative friction. The idea/hope was that he and they would form a dynamic machine that could beat you in a number of ways. The reality has been far less than the sum of those experiences.

It was a tempting belief to buy into, given Irving’s unique talent and the Celtics’ tough-minded approach without him and Hayward. Yet, it hasn’t clicked and while there are dozens of reasons why the C’s underachieved, it keeps coming back to that disconnect between what they were and who they’ve become.

***

Before the playoffs began, a Person Who Knows Things whispered in my ear that Kyrie was gone. I asked him if he was telling me or trying to convince me. A little bit of both, he responded.

As everyone knows, Irving can opt out of his contract this summer and become a free agent. This has long been part of the plan because once he does, Danny Ainge will be able to go after Anthony Davis in a trade setting up a partnership that would launch the next Boston era of contention. It’s a weird twist on an unusual set of circumstances.

Irving’s situation is a first for the Celtics. Never before have they had to convince a player to commit to staying after they got to Boston. Throughout their long and storied history players from other teams — some just as eccentric as Kyrie — arrived in town with battle scars from other franchises. Once they became indoctrinated in the Celtic mystique, they never wanted to leave.

Rather than embrace that lineage, Irving has chafed at the expectation at times. He noted on a handful of occasions that people expect perfection, which isn’t exactly true. What they want is effort and commitment, and they’re savvy enough to understand the difference. The result is that this Celtics’ season suffered from an identity crisis.

The working idea was they would go all out to win a championship with their current group. At the same time, they would convince Kyrie to sign on for the long haul and continue laying the groundwork for a potential dynasty that wouldn’t include many of the players on the roster who were asked to sacrifice for the greater good.

How this manifests itself in the offseason remains to be seen. Throughout the season, the Celtics maintained confidence that Kyrie will be back and that a trade for AD can be consummated. The two moves are essentially intertwined. After this disastrous season, how can anyone be truly sure of Kyrie’s intentions?

There are many other considerations. Horford and Baynes can also opt out of their contracts. Morris is a free agent and Rozier will be a restricted free agent. Would an AD deal include Tatum or Brown? Would they have to give up Smart, who has become a beloved figure within the organization and the city?

It’s dangerous to assume anyone has any idea what will happen between now and July, but then this season has always been based on a series of assumptions. The reality is that in an all-or-nothing campaign, the Celtics repeatedly came up empty. Now there’s nothing left but the fallout.