#i think i DID try to plow through 1 BUT eventually i hit a place where the game was too broken to continue

[autistme]

will i ever finish emogame and potentially post random shit from it for the tumblrinas. maybe

[sock-ness-monster]

Excuse is granted. Please. I beg of you. Infodump away

Thank you so much I love telling people about this guy

So, to preface this, I'll be telling this story exactly how it was told to me by our camp counselor at a Caveing camp I went to, so it's very much an oral history that maybe can't be fact checked but the broad strokes are genuinely 100% true

TRIGGER WARNINGS: DEATH, DARKNESS, CLAUSTROPHOBIA, GRAVE DESECRATION, CRICKETS

Now that that's out of the way (and please mention if there's any other TW's I should add) the story of

Floyd Collins, The Man Who Was Buried Six Times

This story begins in Kentucky in 19very early, a young Floyd was plowing his family's field when he suddenly dropped through the ground and discovered an unknown cave system. Super cool! Now, people back then did not have television, keep in mind, so caves were really big deals and they were a brand new and lucrative tourist escapade. Floyd's family seized the idea and quickly made a little tourist attraction out of it and started raking in the dough. But they weren't the only ones who had a cave you could tour, Kentucky's geology is super unique in that it has tons of limestone and sandstone which is perfect for underground rivers to carve cool caves out of. They are everywhere in Kentucky and the surrounding area, there was a lot of competition for who had the best, the biggest, the longest cave. And Floyd and his brothers were seized by cave fever and were exploring all around looking for new tunnels and chambers. A large part of this business, unfortunately, was not just walking people through the caves but was letting them take home souvenirs. People could carve their names in the wall, take a stalagmite or stalactite or whatever cool rock they found. Destroying the sensitive ecosystem of the caves. Floyd, the cool dude that he was, was one of the only people who was against this at the time. Good for him! Salamanders are important!

Anyway, Floyd and his brothers are always on the lookout for new opportunities, and there were tons in that area. But, not all of them would pan out. Floyd had heard rumblings about a new cave system called Sand Cave that wasn't far from his family's original cave, which by now had been dubbed Crystal Cave. It didn't seem that promising to most, but Floyd was hoping it actually connected to Crystal cave, and they could tack on so many feet to how big their cave was. So he set off to see if he could find a connection.

He had been surveying the cave for a few hours, and decided to call it quits. He was crawling through a tight tunnel upwards toward the opening of the cave when a rock slide pinned his ankle down tight. He was laying flat with his hands reaching upwards, and there was no way for him to reach back behind him to free his ankle.

He had gone on this expedition without telling anyone.

This was the first time he got buried.

Three days pass, and his brother Homer finally finds him. He tries everything he can think of to free floyd, to no effect. Realizing that this may be a bigger endeavor than he can pull off, he crawls back out to go and find help. It is January of 1925, what else is there to do but go to the newspaper? They publish the story of the man trapped in a crawl way, and it's a huge hit!? People are fascinated by Floyds predicament. They want to help, they want to see, they want to know more. It even makes it on the radio! The three biggest news stories of the time were

1) the war (oof)

2)Charles Lindbergh (will come up again later)

And 3) Floyd in the hole

Everyone in America is anxious to find out how they rescue Floyd. "They" being everyone from the local cave experts to the military corps of engineers to the freakin freemasons, they're all trying to figure out how to free Floyd. Who, ya know, is just chillin in the cave, because caves stay at a constant temperature of ~54° , not too bad for January. His brothers and a reporter take turns crawling down to deliver him the three essentials; food, whiskey, and news. The reporter, "Skeets" Miller, would later win a Pulitzer Prize for his correspondence with floyd in the shaft. Now, as mentioned before, it is a cold and snowy January, but people (nearly 10,000 according to some reports) are so fascinated by the goings on at Sand Cave that they travel from far and wide to be there at the triumphant moment when Floyd emerges. Weeks have gone by at this point. Radio stations are reporting every day, Charles Lindbergh is hired to take photographs of the terrain from above. It's like a big party up top.

They camp out around the cave mouth.

They build fires for food and warmth.

The snow melts.

The cold water trickles down into the cave.

Floyd....... starts to cough.

The cave's already sketchy structure is further compromised.

There's another rock slide.

Floyd is now cut off from contact with the up side world, and the engineers panic and go with a last ditch effort they had been debating beforehand. They can't go around they can't go behind, the only path left was straight down. They drill a hole that reaches the 150 feet from daylight to Floyd's prison. They are too late. He was estimated to have died three to four days before they reached him. His leg is still stuck, and half his face has been consumed by cave crickets. And they just.....leave him there. Whatreyagonnado they shrug, he's already gone we can stop now. They fill in the shaft again.

This is the second time Floyd is buried.

Homer, his closest brother, can't accept this as his final resting place. A few weeks later, they un block the hole and carry Floyd to their family's funeral plot and have a small service with just his closest friends and family present.

This is the third time Floyd Collins is buried.

A few years go by, and the Collins family sells their farm and cave. Unfortunately, they did not see the part of the deed that entitled the new owners to everything in and under the property. Floyd's body is now legally theirs. He is exhumed and placed on display in a glass coffin in Crystal Cave (which years and years later would eventually be proven to connect to Sand Cave).

This is the fourth time Floyd is buried.

If you haven't pieced it together yet, caves were a pretty big deal. We now enter a time in Kentucky history known as the Cave Wars, and they are brutal. How brutal, you ask? Well, to answer with one scenario that happens to be related to this story, the owners of nearby cave were jealous of the attention Crystal Cave was getting from their cool exhibit of Floyd's body, against his family's wishes. Why, the only logical thing to do is steal the man's body and throw it off a cliff. Crystal Cave's new owners would recover it, though minus the left leg. And the next logical thing of course is to put him back on display but this time with a bunch more chains.

This is the fifth time Floyd Collins is buried.

Then, the 60s roll around and Crystal Cave and Floyd are purchased by the National Parks Service on the grounds of being connected to the Mammoth Cave System (the longest cave system in the entire world now). Floyds family is still fighting for his body, and in the 80s they finally get their wish. Floyd is removed from the cave in a 15 day trip and buried at a real cemetery again.

This, is the sixth time he is buried.

A pillar is constructed in honor and perhaps in reparations to all he's gone through, but it is struck by a semi truck and demolished less than a week after its unveiling.

Floyd.......went through a lot. All he ever wanted to do was see some cool rocks and support his family. And to this day, cavers do their best to do right by him. When entering Mammoth Cave, they often ask the darkness to look after them. They aren't talking to the darkness, of course, that darkness that can never be described properly. They are talking to Floyd. Asking him to watch over them as they wish he had someone to watch over him. In the caves everyone is above you, but that's not what they mean. And when they hear a whistle through the tunnels, they like to imagine it's Floyd. Floyd, who was right. The cave was so much more than people thought, in so many different ways. To this day, there's a saying in the caveing community.

"Floyd Lives"

It's like the geology version of "Eddie Would Go". As long as we carry on his legacy of exploring bravely, daring to go where noone has gone before, and do our best to preserve the natural beauty and habitat of the caves, floyd will live on. Floyd lives in our memories and hearts and the drips of water that will one day be pillars.

I don't really know how to end this. Here's a picture of the man himself;

(the picture above is not the tunnel he was trapped in, to be clear)

[impalas-r-important]

Branch Out - Chapter 2

Summary: Y/N left everything she's ever known, and Dean just wants to be left alone. With both of them trying to heal from heartache, they might just end up finding what they need in the last place they'd ever look.

Word Count: 6550

Pairing: Dean x Reader (eventually, maybe?)

Warnings: I don't think there are any for this chapter, but if you think i should add one, feel free to let me know!

Read Chapter 1

Branch Out Masterlist

My Masterlist

Saturday was a welcome break from work, but there was no sleeping in. A delivery truck brought your bed frame, a small kitchen table, and a coffee table early in the morning and you were over the moon about not having to sleep on the cold floor anymore. You figured the tables would be fairly easy to put together, so you left those for last. You emptied the box with the bedframe and did your best to carefully lay out all the pieces so they would be easy to find as you went along. Before you started, you grabbed your radio and shuffled through your CDs, deciding on The Eagles to be today’s soundtrack.

You threw half of your hair up in a bun to pull the small pieces from your face, rolled up your sleeves, and looked around for the instructions. You couldn’t actually remember seeing any kind of paper as you unpacked the pieces, so you dumped out the box. Nothing. You looked under every piece of wood, and in every corner of your tiny house, but came up empty handed.

“Fan-friggin-tastic…” You grumbled and stared down the lumber and hardware, trying to make sense of this now seemingly impossible puzzle.

Hours had passed, and you had only managed to put together a pathetic amount of the bedframe. The stupid bits and pieces that were strewn across the floor taunted you with every wrong part you picked up. Before any vital pieces ended up getting thrown into the fireplace out of frustration, you decided it would be best to take a break and make some lunch. You needed to make a run to the grocery store and stock your fridge and shelves, but you’d need to wait until you got your truck back, so you kept your fingers were crossed that Bobby would be able to get to it today.

You settled on a protein shake and a banana for your meal and were sitting on the kitchen counter when two quick knocks at the door interrupted your thoughts. You turned the music down a notch and wove your way through the maze of wood that had taken over your living room. You were expecting to see Sarah standing on the other side of your front door but were surprised to find Dean. One hand was slipped into his coat pocket and his shoulders were slightly rounded, showing that he didn’t really want to be here right now.

“Oh,” you did your best to not sound massively surprised but did a bang-up job, “hi.”

“Hey,” he cleared his throat, and a tuft of breath flew from his mouth in the cold air, “I just wanted to say sorry for being kind of a dick last night. I’m not really a people person and I’m definitely not used to having neighbors.” His eyes, which were glued to the ground made their way up to meet yours. “The bars were good though. I ate them all last night. I figured you’d want this back.” He extended his arm holding the plate you had placed the treats on to take over to him.

You tried your hardest to stop the smug smirk that was pulling at the corners of your mouth. “That’s actually a disposable plate.”

“Oh,” he looked down at it, “it’s one of the fancy plastic ones though, so I wasn’t sure if you wanted it back or not…” It was definitely not fancy, but the thought of him scrubbing the sticky blueberry mess off of a cheap plate was completely endearing.

“Well, good as new then.” You smiled and took the plate back from him, making a mental note to only give him paper plates from here on out if the situation arose. You stepped just inside the door and tossed the plastic onto the kitchen counter.

Dean raised an eyebrow as he snuck a peek at the mess that was you house at the moment. “Whoa, did a bomb go off in here?”

You looked around with a sigh. “No, but I’m about ready to blow the whole place up and just start over.” Stepping out of the way, you signaled for Dean to come in out of the freezing cold. He stomped his boots off on the front porch and stepped inside. “I didn’t bring any furniture with me when I moved, so I ordered some online. This mess,” you motioned vaguely around the room, “is supposed to be a bedframe but some genius forgot to put the instructions in the box.”

“How long have you been at it?” Dean stepped closer to the junk yard that had become your living room.

You really didn’t want to answer that question because you figured he’d just tell you what you were doing wrong. “Not that long.” Lying had never been something you were good at. Dean took one look at the guilty look on your face and saw right through it.

“So, all morning?”

“All morning.” You admitted and crossed your arms in shame. For a short second, you could have sworn that you saw a hint of a smile on Dean’s face. He was probably laughing at your miserable handy work.

“Well, for starters, you should put the bedframe together in the bedroom. Not the living room.” He walked around the wood pieces and began organizing them into piles.

“The bedroom is really small, so I figured it would be easier to put the big pieces together out here and then put the whole thing together in the bedroom.” You watched with some distain as he easily began to piece together the headboard. “You don’t have to do that, you know…”

“Do what?” He asked but didn’t look up from his crouched position on the floor.

“Help.” You shrugged. “I heard you loud and clear last night that you aren’t looking for friends.”

Dean paused for a moment. “Maybe I’m just staying for the good music.”

“You like The Eagles?”

“Who doesn’t?”

“One of my dad’s rules to live by is that you should never trust people who wear socks to bed or people who hate The Eagles.”

“Your dad sounds like a smart man.” There it was again, an elusive smile from the self-proclaimed loner. You were sure you saw it this time. “But I do have to say that no one beats the mighty Zep.”

You could respect a guy who loved the classics. “Wow, the good taste in music almost makes up for the crabby attitude.”

Dean knew you were teasing and gave you a fed-up look. “Do you have a drill?” He asked.

You picked up a screwdriver from the counter and held it up. Dean shook his head. “No, an actual drill.”

“I have a hammer…”

A chuckle escaped from Dean’s chest. “You were planning on hammering these screws into your new furniture?”

“I was working with what I had. Don’t judge me.”

Dean stood and amusedly shook his head as he made his way to the door, leaving it open while he walked to his truck and pulled a drill from the toolbox that was in the bed. As you watched, you noticed that your driveway had been cleared of the snow from last night’s flurry and couldn’t help but find that odd. You didn’t hear a truck outside your house this morning.

Dean skipped a few steps up the stairs and hurried inside, taking off his coat once he had shut the door after him. “Can I put this here?” He laid his it over the back of a chair that had been here when you moved in.

“Yeah.” You took one more peek out the window at the plowed path to your house from the road. “Hey, weird question, but you wouldn’t happen to know how my driveway got cleared, would you?”

“You ever heard of a snowplow?” His words dripped with sarcasm, but you were well versed in the language as well.

“A snowplow? Hmm, doesn’t ring a bell. What’s that?” You exaggerated every word, but Dean still looked up at you with furrowed brows before realizing that you were joking.

“I just didn’t realize the plows would come this far up the mountain. I promise I’m not as dumb as I look.” Kneeling a few feet away from him on the floor, you held the piece of wood his was trying to secure in place steady.

“The driver is a buddy of mine, He’s a good guy so he probably just wanted to help out the new girl.” Dean explained. You couldn’t help but feel lucky that you had found a place that was full of kind folks. The headboard was put together in a matter of minutes and Dean carried it into your bedroom with ease before picking out the pieces for the footboard.

“Thank you, Dean. I know this is probably not how you wanted to spend your Saturday afternoon.”

“I like to build things. I built my cabin, so a bedframe is a piece of cake.”

“I guess that’s pretty impressive.” Casually playing that off made Dean slightly smile again. You could tell he was feeling a little more comfortable.

“What are you doing up here all by yourself anyway?” He quickly wiped any traces of emotion from his face.

You shrugged. “I just needed a new start and this place fell in my lap, so I jumped. I might be a little in over my head, but I have to start somewhere, right?”

“Why’d you move?” You thought it bold of him to ask the hard-hitting questions but admired his straightforwardness.

You took a moment to carefully word your response. “Sometimes you just need to take yourself out of an unhealthy situation even if it’s the only thing you’ve ever known.”

Dean was surely picking up on your lack of details. “I can respect that.” His eyes fell to the bruise on your arm that he had first noticed a few days before. You self-consciously rubbed the sore spot and felt grateful for the phone ringing that stopped the conversation from progressing any further.

You looked to see that Bobby’s shop was calling and brought the phone to your ear. “Hey, Bobby.”

Dean watched as you slowly paced back and forth by the window. He had felt ridiculous this morning for washing a stupid plastic plate just so he could have an excuse to come over and apologize, but he was glad that risk paid off, even if you did think he was clueless.

As he put the last few screws in the footboard, Dean couldn’t help but overhear the conversation you were having on the phone. You sounded a little disappointed and Dean assumed that Bobby had called with bad news.

“How’s the truck?” Dean asked once you had joined him on the floor and began picking up the spare screws.

“Apparently my truck is an ‘old piece of crap’, and the only battery Bobby had that would fit ended up being a dud. He ordered a new one, but it won’t be in until Monday.”

While Dean agreed that your truck should probably be retired, he felt empathetic that you’d had so many problems with it since moving in. “I’ll give you a ride to work.” The words flew from his mouth before he really thought about what he was saying. That wasn’t normally something he’d offer to do. “If you want, that is.”

“Dean, I can’t ask you to do that…” You were sure at this point that he thought you were just some helpless stupid girl that didn’t know how to do anything for yourself.

“Well, you didn’t ask. I volunteered.”

“Still, you’ve done so much for me in the short time that I’ve been here, I feel like I’m just mooching off of you at this point.”

“I’ve barely done anything.” Dean brushed your statement off, but you knew you were right.

“You gave me a ride on my first day, fixed my battery, you’re here wasting your Saturday helping me put together furniture, and now you’re going to give me another ride to work on Monday. That sounds like mooching to me.”

“Your house and City Hall are both on my way to work. I haven’t been the most welcoming person in the world, so let’s just call it even.”

You could tell that he wasn’t going to take no for an answer, so you got up and went into the kitchen. You opened the cabinet and pulled out another plate of blueberry pie bars and took them to Dean. He gladly accepted.

After pulling back the plastic wrap and shoving a whole bar in his mouth, he mumbled, “Now we’re definitely even.” He rubbed his hands together to brush the crumbs off and finished his bite. “You had these the whole time and you weren’t going to share?”

“That recipe makes a lot. I figured I’d take half to you last night and the other half to work on Monday, but my co-workers aren’t here helping me put together furniture, so bon appetite.”

He put another in his mouth and nodded in approval. “You can keep the plate this time.” You couldn’t help but tease Dean. He stopped midchew and gave you a jaded glare which you did your best to ignore and instead focused on suppressing your laughter. Dean was still trying to hide his smiles, but you caught a glance anyway.

“It’s not a waste, by the way.”

You tilted your head in confusion.

“You said I was wasting my Saturday by helping you out. But I don’t mind.” He briefly looked up at you but continued before could say anything else. “Help me move these.”

After carrying all the pieces into the bedroom and putting them together, Dean helped you lift your mattress onto the frame, and you threw yourself onto the bed.

“So. Much. Better.” You closed your eyes and inhaled through your nose before giving a comfortable sigh. You knew your back would appreciate the little bit of give that the frame allowed. Dean was leaning against the door and you caught his eyes as you sat up. He quickly looked away when you noticed him staring.

“I saw two other boxes out there. Do they need to be put together too?” Dean almost seemed excited to dig into the next project.

“Yes, but if you have somewhere you need to be, I think I can handle it.”

Dean checked his watch. “It’d give me a good excuse to not go to Jo’s party tonight.”

“Jo, that’s Bobby and Ellen’s daughter, right?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, parties aren’t really my scene.”

“I’m with you on that one.” You were quite the introvert yourself and could relate to the feeling of social dread. “Well, if you’re sure, then be my guest.”

You followed Dean into the living room, and he dragged the bigger of the two boxes over and began to pull out the contents. A growl from your stomach and a glance at the clock told you that it was dinner time.

“Are you hungry?”

Dean shrugged. “A little.”

You opened your cabinets and fridge as if there would be more food than there was earlier. “I’m low on supplies, but I’ve got stuff for turkey sandwiches. Is that okay?”

“Sounds great.”

You threw together two sandwiches and Dean already had half the table put together by the time you were done. You handed his plate to him and sat down on the floor against the wall next to the fireplace. Dean shook the wood dust from his pants and joined you.

“So, accounting, huh? Was that always the dream job?” All of Dean’s questions were posed as if he was only making nonchalant small talk, but the way he intently listened told you that he actually cared about your answers.

“No, but it pays the bills, and I don’t mind numbers. I don’t always love it, but I really like the people I work with here.” Dean was still working on a mouthful of food and you figured it was your turn to ask the questions. “Did you always want to be a lumberjack?”

Dean scoffed. “I’m not a lumberjack!”

“That’s debatable. Sarah said you work at the sawmill, I’ve only ever seen you wear plaid, and apparently you’re the wood whisperer.” You motioned to the almost completed table.

“Well, yeah, but I don’t go prancing around the woods with an axe on my shoulder.”

“Whatever you say.” You figured if he wanted to share more details with you, he would.

“I don’t just work at the sawmill, I run it.”

“How is it being the head-honcho?” Although you did a lot of paperwork for you job, you didn’t envy the workload of a CEO.

“Awful.” His answer was blunt and straightforward. “My dad pulled me into the family business a few years ago and I took over when he got sick.”

“I heard about that. How is he doing now?”

“He’s good. I think he and my mom are hoping to move back soon.”

“What would you be doing if you weren’t working at the sawmill?”

Dean was a little caught off guard by your question. “Why does it matter?”

“Because you can’t go through life hating most of it. That’s just going to make you miserable.” You were speaking from experience.

Dean’s eyes examined yours as if he was trying to find an ulterior motive behind your questions. “I worked as a mechanic for a long time and loved it. I always thought I’d take over for Bobby when he retired down at the shop.”

“Maybe when your dad gets back you can switch over?”

“Yeah, maybe.” Dean’s hesitancy to open up when his dad was brought up told you to drop the subject.

After you both were finished eating, he stood and offered a hand to help you up. “Let’s get this thing finished so you don’t have to keep eating on the floor.”

You spent the rest of the evening handing Dean the hardware he asked for and listening to oldies. Maybe he wasn’t the most talkative guy in the world, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence that fell between you two. It was actually nice to be in the company of someone who wasn’t going to push for every detail of your life story.

After breaking down the empty carboard boxes that were the remnants of a long afternoon’s work, Dean pulled on his coat.

“Thank you for all your help today. The place is finally starting to come together.” Although you were still without a couch, your home started to look more livable.

“Don’t mention it. So, I’ll see you Monday morning then?” He asked before he reached for the door handle.

You nodded with a smile and handed him the plate of blueberry bars. He excitedly took it from you and gave a soft smile.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Night, Dean.”

Monday morning slowly crept up after a Sunday spent mostly in bed. It had snowed most of the day and night so you bundled up as much as you could. A peek out the window showed that your small driveway had been plowed again. You put a reminder in your phone to get a thank you gift for the plow driver who was a guardian angel in disguise. Dean pulled up just a few seconds later and you hurried out to his truck.

“Mornin’.” He greeted.

“Hey yourself.” You buckled your seatbelt and extended your hands towards the vent like you had done the last time Dean gave you a ride. His truck was much newer than yours and the heater worked like a charm.

“What’s on your agenda for today?” He asked as he backed out onto the road.

“Expense reports. They’re as thrilling as they sound. And also, I’m covering the front desk solo. Sarah texted and said she woke up with a fever, so she’s taking a sick day.”

“I’ll have to ask Sam how she’s doing.” A few minutes passed as you slowly made your way down the slick road. “So, listen, it’s supposed to snow all day. I’ll come and grab you after work and take you down to Bobby’s place.”

“Oh, you don’t need to do that. It’s like a ten-minute walk.”

“It’s a good excuse to make sure I don’t get pulled into some long boring meeting at the end of the day.”

“Well then in that case you’re welcome.” You gave a cheeky grin which was returned.

Thankfully, the ride to work was short. Driving in the snow gave you serious anxiety so the sight of City Hall was a welcomed one.

“What time should I come pick you up?”

“I’m off at four, but I can stay later if you can’t get out that early.”

“Four is great. One of the perks of being the boss is that I can make my own hours.”

Ellen waved to you as she walked in, so you quickly said goodbye to Dean and joined her. Dean waited to make sure you got inside okay before taking off.

“Did Dean give you a ride today?” Ellen looked at you skeptically.

“Yeah, my truck is still in the shop, so he volunteered to drop me off on his way to work.”

“Hmm. That’s weird.” She took her hat off and shook the snow from it. “It’s been years since I’ve seen Dean socializing with anyone that’s not in his little circle.”

“Honestly, I think he just pities me because I’m new and clueless when it comes to snow.” Shrugging your coat off, you set it on the back of your chair and placed your bag underneath your desk.

“I never thought I’d see him speak to another girl after what Cassie did to him.” Ellen shook her head and raised her eyebrows.

“Cassie?” This was the first you’d heard of her.

“Yeah, she broke his heart pretty bad a few years back.”

Garth appeared from around the corner and called Ellen back to his office. You knew that Dean had a rough few years but hadn’t heard many details aside from his dad getting cancer, which was a hard enough situation on its own. While you wanted to know more, you didn’t want to dig for info where it was none of your business. If Dean wanted to tell you about Cassie, he would do it on his own time and you would just have to respect that.

Dean arrived at the sawmill and made his way to his office on the upper level of the plant. Not ten minutes after he began his day’s work, Sam entered and sat down in one of the chairs across from Dean’s desk.

“Where were you Saturday night? I thought you said you were going to Jo’s party.”

Dean shrugged. “I got busy and didn’t realize what time it was.”

“Busy with what? I’m sure there’s not that much to do up that mountain of yours.”

“Just busy.”

Sam was used to his brother’s antics at this point and knew it was futile to push for details.

“How’s Sarah doing?” Dean asked, hoping to delay the morning managers meeting as long as possible.

“She’s alright. Woke up with a fever, so she’s just going to sleep it off.” A lightbulb went off for Sam and he frowned. “Wait, how did you know that Sarah’s sick?”

“Crap…” Dean thought to himself. He knew he was busted. “I don’t know. I just heard it through the grapevine.”

“I didn’t tell anyone about her and I’m pretty sure the only people she told were the people at work…” Sam thought long and hard for a few seconds until he realized what must have happened. “Y/N?”

Sam had always been too smart for his own good and Dean had always hated it. “I gave her a ride to work while Bobby has her truck. That’s all.”

“Is that what you were busy with on Saturday too?”

Dean sent messages to Benny and Cas, instructing them to quickly come up to his office to start the morning meeting and hopefully get Sam off his back.

Sam took Dean’s silence as a yes. “What did you guys do all night then?”

“We had a pillow fight and painted each other’s nails.”

Sam had a special bitch-face reserved for Dean and was throwing it his way now.

“We put together furniture and ate sandwiches on the floor. There, now you know. Happy?”

Cas and Benny walked in together.

“Hey fellas, what’s the news?” Benny greeted.

Dean knew from Sam’s devious grin that the end of this conversation was nowhere in sight. “Dean wasn’t at Jo’s party because he was with the new girl in town.”

Cas quickly turned his head and looked at Dean as if he had lobsters crawling out his ears. “This Dean? Our Dean?”

Sam nodded and Benny laughed as he took a seat. “I heard she’s real pretty! It’s about time you find a good one. Nice job, brother.”

Dean groaned and rubbed his hands over his face. “Listen, I helped her out with one thing. I barely know her, so cut the crap or I will fire all of you asses.”

Cas, Benny and Sam all exchanged mischievous looks but dropped the subject to avoid Dean’s angry side coming out for the rest of the day.

The day was slow for you, but it gave you plenty of time to finish verifying payroll hours for everyone. Sarah’s energetic personality was definitely being missed as you began to feel drowsy around two thirty. The bell to the front door dinged so you stood to find Sheriff Mills and her son.

“Mom, you promised that you wouldn’t have to work today.” The little boy moaned.

“I’m sorry, honey. The Mayor just has to meet with me for a few minutes and then I promise I’m all yours, okay?”

“Hey guys! Can I help with anything?” You greeted.

“Y/N, hey. How are you settling in?” Jody gave a warm smile and did her best to ignore her son who was tugging at her sleeve.

“I’m finally getting everything set up, so I’d say pretty well. Who’s this handsome fella with you?”

The little boy blushed a little as you leaned on the counter and smiled down at him.

“This is my son, Owen. It’s technically my day off, but do I ever really get a day off as a Sheriff?”

Owen continued to pull at Jody’s sleeve and beg to leave.

“Hey Owen, do you happen to like hot chocolate?” You had always been good with kids and figured you try to help Jody out while she met with Garth. You were pretty much done with your work for the day anyway.

Owen nodded shyly. “Well, I don’t want to brag, but I make a mean breakroom hot chocolate. You want to help me make some while your mom meets with the Mayor? If that’s okay with her, that is.”

Owen looked to his mom for approval and she nodded. He ran behind the front desk and Jody mouthed a silent, “Thank you,” to which you smiled and led Owen back to the breakroom.

After making two steaming cups of hot chocolate, you took pushed together two empty desks and taught Owen how to play paper football. After showing him how to fold the paper and a few practice rounds, you began to keep track of points. The winner would take home a medal that you made from paperclips and an eraser.

Time flew by and before you knew it, over an hour had passed. You heard someone come in the door and looked over to see Dean. He had arrived a few minutes early and decided to wait for you inside rather than in the cold car.

“Am I crashing the party?” Dean leaned on the front desk.

“Dean!” Owen side-stepped the desk and ran to wrap his arms around Dean’s waist.

“You’re just in time for the final round of paper football. You in?” You held up the small piece of folded paper with a playful grin.

“Step aside, let the master show you how it’s done.” Dean ripped off his coat and set it on your desk. “What do I get when I win?”

You held up the eraser necklace and Owen excitedly added that he helped make it.

You and Owen were neck in neck in the first round, but you scuffed your last shot on purpose and made a big stink about it. Dean ruffled Owen’s hair as he knelt down at the end of the desk and lined up his shot perfectly. Owen held his own but missed his last shot and Dean knew that he could win if he made the next one. He set his paper up perfectly and you couldn’t help but giggle at the exaggerated sigh of concentration that he let out. Dean’s eyeline moved from the game quickly up to you as he gave a quick wink and under-shot his chance on purpose, giving the win to Owen if he made his next shot, which he did.

Jody paused before entering the room and watched from just out of sight as Owen jumped up and down in triumph. Ellen joined and leaned on the wall, watching as you helped Owen up onto the desk and presented him with the make-shift medal that you had thrown together. Dean put Owen on his shoulders and did a victory lap around the desks while squeals of delight filled the air.

“Are my eyes deceiving me, or is Dean Winchester acting like he’s been properly socialized?” Jody tilted her head to look at Ellen who was smiling knowingly.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him like this. Ever since a little bird flew into town, he’s seems to be a little less crotchety.”

Jody and Ellen watched the smile that you and Dean shared once he put Owen down.

“Mom!” Owen ran over and proudly showed off his medal.

“That’s great, hon!” Jody looked up as you and Dean approached. “You guys are lifesavers; I really owe you one.”

“We had fun, huh?” You nudged Owen with your arm causing him to blush and avert his eyes. You smirked and turned to Dean. “I’ll go grab my stuff and then we can head out.”

Dean knelt down and held his hand out for a high-five. “Good game, kid. That’s well-deserved.” He pointed at the eraser hanging around Owen’s neck.

“I like Y/N. She’s fun… and pretty.” Owen whispered to Dean. Jody instructed her son to grab his coat and said goodbye to everyone.

Dean was leaning against your desk when you came out from the back.

“Ready?” He asked.

“Ready.” You smiled in response.

Once you were in Dean’s truck, you asked, “how do you know Owen so well?”

“When my parents moved away, Jody kind of took me and Sam under her wing and made sure we were taken care of. We were over at her house for dinner a fair amount, so Owen and I are pretty good buddies.”

“Jody seems sweet. I like her.”

“She’s one of the good ones. A lot of people here are. Ellen has always been a surrogate mom to me as well. My dad and I don’t always get along, so Bobby and Ellen kind of adopted me when I was pretty young.”

“I’m sorry about your dad.”

“Don’t be. We all have our issues.”

Dean pulled up outside Bobby’s shop just a few short minutes later. “I’ll come in with you and make sure everything’s working okay. I gotta talk to Bobby anyway.”

You and Dean rushed inside out of the cold and Jo looked up from the front desk. “Hey Dean!”

“Hey, Jo. Your dad around?”

“He’s on the phone but should be done soon.” She turned her gaze to you. “You must be the new girl.”

“Yeah, I’m Y/N. It’s nice to finally meet you.” You offered a smile to Jo, which was not returned.

“We’re just here for her truck. You got the keys?” Dean picked up on Jo’s attitude and tried to hurry the conversation along.

She shuffled through the box of keys that was on the desk and pulled one out, reading the tag to make sure it was the right one before tossing it to you. You caught it easily and thanked her.

“What do I owe you?”

“We’ll send you the bill.”

“Oh, okay. I guess I’ll just head out then.” You turned to Dean. “See you around. Thanks again for the ride.”

Dean nodded with a shy smile and watched as you got in your truck and left. He wasn’t sure why, but part of him was hoping that the truck wouldn’t start up, so you’d have to ride back with him, but he knew Bobby was too good of a mechanic for that. The rumble of your engine starting up signaled your official exit and Dean hastily made his way back to Bobby’s office to avoid Jo’s impending interrogation on why he had ditched out on her party.

You had gotten to work a little early the next day and were at your desk when Sarah came in.

“Hey, how you feeling?” You had texted her the night before to see if she needed anything, but she said Sam was doing a great job at playing nurse.

“Much better. I think it was just one of those twenty-four-hour bugs. How was yesterday?”

“Slow and quiet. It was weird without you here. Jody brought Owen in and we had a paper football tournament, which was pretty fun though.”

“I’m sorry I missed out!”

Ellen walked out from her office and sat at an empty desk next to you and Sarah. “Are you still good for Thursday, Y/N?”

“You bet!”

“What’s Thursday?” Sarah wondered.

“Ellen, Garth and I are heading to Baker for a convention on the new tax regulations for this year. We’ll head down Thursday morning and come back up on Saturday night.”

Sarah’s face dropped. “No, not this weekend! Saturday is Dean’s birthday and we’re throwing him a surprise party down at The Salty Hunter. I was going to invite you both today!”

“Oh, shoot…” You felt bad that you’d miss Dean’s birthday when he’d been so helpful to you lately.

“Well, maybe we can try to be back for the party?” Ellen suggested. “We’ll head out as soon as we can.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.” Sarah pointed a finger at you both.

“What’s The Salty Hunter?” You wondered.

“That’s the bar on main street. Rufus, who owns it, used to be a hunter so he named it after himself. He’s a character but a good guy.” Ellen explained.

That night after work you went grocery shopping and then headed home to make some dinner and watch something stupid to unwind before bed. You changed into pajamas and a t-shirt and settled down at your new table. Before you could take a bite of your pasta, someone knocked on your door. You peeked through the curtains to see who it was and saw Dean standing outside, shaking his leg to try and stay warm.

You unlocked the door and the wind helped it open. “Get in here, it’s freezing!” You ordered and Dean gladly complied.

“How’s the truck working?” He rubbed his hands together to thaw his fingers.

“Like a charm. Bobby really knows his stuff.” You grabbed the blanket that was slung over the back of a chair and wrapped it around yourself as you sat and offered Dean the other chair at the table.

“So, uh,” he traced the woodgrain pattern on the floor with his eyes as if he was afraid to look at you, “I don’t know if you have any plans on Saturday, but some friends and I are getting together down at the bar if you want to get to know a few more people. It’s nothing big.”

“This little gathering wouldn’t happen to be for your birthday, would it?” You raised a knowing eyebrow. “Sarah told me about it today.”

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, but it’s not really a party or anything. I just thought it would be good for you to get out of this tiny cabin. I’m not even supposed to know about it, but Sam told me.”

You were surprised that Dean went out of his way to invite you, and the gesture made you feel even worse that you might not be there.

“I’m going to try my absolute hardest to be there. Ellen, Garth and I are actually going to be at a tax thing from Thursday until Saturday but we’re making it our goal to be back in time.”

“Like I said, it’s not a big deal, so don’t stress about it.”

“Birthdays are a big deal, so don’t play it off all casual. Plus, I already have the perfect present picked out for you, so it would be a shame if you didn’t get it.”

An inquisitive look lit up Dean’s emerald eyes. “The perfect present, huh? You sure you know me that well?”

“I am one hundred percent sure it will be the best present you’ve ever gotten from me.” Considering that you’d never given him a present before, you weren’t wrong.

Dean pushed his jaw slightly to one side and pressed his tongue to his canine while fighting a grin. “You’re funny, you know that?”

You scrunched you nose and stood from your chair. “Have you eaten? I’ve got extra.” Before he answered, you were already dishing him up a plate of spaghetti.

“No, I just got off work. Late day at the office.” He dug right into his food when you set it down on the table. “Are you planning on getting a couch or something?” He looked out into the barren room.

“No, I think I like empty, minimalistic look. It’s very modern.”

At this point, Dean had a pretty firm grasp on your dry sense of humor and just shook his head. He scarfed down his food and went back for a second plate while you cleaned up the kitchen a bit. He washed his own plate when he was done and placed it in the drying rack.

“Well, I didn’t mean to interrupt your night. I would have just texted you to invite you, but I don’t have your number.”

You held out your hand and Dean reached into his pocket and gave you his phone. It was an old, sturdy Nokia flip phone and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Look at this dinosaur. I haven’t seen one of these since… I don’t know, middle school?”

“It’s not that old.” Dean tried to defend himself. “I tried the fancy smart phones, but I hated them. Who needs a phone for more than just calling and texting?”

You flipped it open dramatically and saved your number before handing it back to him right as it began to ring. “It’s Sam, I should probably get this. Thanks again for dinner. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“You didn’t. I always make way too much pasta anyway.”

Dean gave a grateful smile and a small wave as he answered the phone and left.

Chapter 3

[fleetwoodmak99]

Long Past Dawn Part 2

Eric Draven x Reader Headcanons

WARNINGS: Terrible Writing, Unconsciousness, Mentions of Blood, Violence, Panic Attacks, Deep Sadness, Death, Emotional and Physical Pain. 

SUMMARY: Aftermath of Long Past Dawn Part 1. It talks a little bit more about Eric’s POV but contains fluff. This is dedicated to @sister-morticia, who has been a true friend and inspired me so much. 

After you slipped into unconsciousness, Eric immediately took you to the hospital. He knew he wouldn't be able to give you the proper medical attention that you needed and he wasn’t going to risk losing you. 

With quick thinking, he scooped you up in his arms and used the crow as a guide to find the nearest hospital.

Eric would want to stay with you the whole time. Literally trying to hold onto any part of you at all times, completely terrified that he was going to lose you again.

You would go in and out of consciousness, your body not even letting you confront the pain. Fortunately, the doctor gave you some pain medication to help with the torment.

After waiting for what seemed like forever, the doctor explained that the bullet hadn't hit any major arteries in your leg, only damaging the muscles and exited through the back right side. Luckily, they were able to stop the bleeding and patch you up neatly. Saying that you are expected to have a good recovery as long as it doesn't get infected.

The doctors would let you rest at the hospital until you woke up but would have to kick you out due to overcrowding from the violence erupting on Devil’s Night. Eric on the other hand, has another plan.

Knowing fully well that Skank was going to tell Top Dollar about what happened, putting a target on both your backs once again. He knew you weren't going to be safe here and the sooner he could get you somewhere safe, the better.

So Eric lifted your motionless body from the hospital bed, grabbing some medical supplies and ran off into the night, being careful not to wake you in the process. Going to the only place he knew you would be safe, your old shared apartment.

Eric lets you rest for however long you need, probably resting right beside you with a hand relaxing on your stomach. It was his way of making sure you were still breathing, that you were ok and safe. Or he would rest it on your chest, in order to feel your heart beating steadily.

If he can't sleep, he would definitely stay up hatching some sort of plan to take care of Top Dollar and his henchmen. Eric knew he would never stop until you were both dead. There was no way Eric was going to let that happen.

As the pain medication starting to do its job, you slowly came out of unconsciousness. At first, being very confused as to what happened and where you were. Even through the medication, your head throbbed as you felt like your entire leg was on fire.

Confusion lead to pure panic as you notice where you were, everything hitting you at once. All the pain and sadness you had buried the past year, coming to the surface.

Eric would hear your soft sobbing and come running so fast. He expected you to be confused but he didn't expect to see you curled up in a ball as you struggled to get your breathing under control, your whole body starting to shake.

Eric immediately going to wrap his arms around you. He wanted to hold you, comfort you, wipe your tears away and tell you everything was going to be okay but he instead, you pushed him away.

You were completely terrified. Terrified of the pain you were facing, terrified that someone was trying to hurt you, terrified that Eric wasn't Eric anymore. Eventually, your thoughts going too fast to keep track of them.

Eric tried not to show it but he was hurt. He can see your pain, its only natural for him to rush to your side. He would simply put his hands up in an attempt to show you he was no threat, repeating the same words over and over again.

"I won't hurt you." “I won’t hurt you.” “I won’t hurt you.”

You might not believe him at first, after everything happened you put up walls to protect yourself, he would never blame you for that. What he will do is everything in his power to make sure you feel safe with him again.

At first, he would just sit by you. Offering you water, food, a blanket to keep you warm, anything you might need in this moment.

Eric is very patient. He will sit there for however long it will take until you feel comfortable with him.

Eric will attempt to help you with your breathing, asking you to focus on taking deeper breaths to slow it down. Holding his hands out in order to hold your trembling ones.

When you felt comfortable enough you would reach out your hand to meet his, him giving it a gentle squeeze while doing his best not to squeeze to hard.

Right then, Eric was able to feel everything. Seeing the pain, the anxiety and the loneliness you had experienced the past year all through your eyes.

Eric still doesn't fully understand the full extent of his abilities yet but he was thankful for this one. This way you never had to be alone again, he would feel everything with you. It made your connection stronger, you both could feel it.

Eventually, you would slowly lean into him. Burrowing your head in his chest as his hands softly wrapped around you. Rubbing your back to attempt to further calm your anxieties, giving him more pieces to the puzzle.

Eric could see you in the hospital after his death a year ago, you look so defeated. Clearly in a lot of physical and emotional pain. He wishes he could have been there for you. Eric understands why he couldn't but that doesn't mean it doesn't frustrate him.

Eric didn't realize how much his death would effect you. He almost thought himself the lucky one that didn't have to go a full year without you as you did him.

Eric would sit there with you for however long you needed, just holding you. Offering soft kisses on the top of your forehead as you worked through your running thoughts.

"They will never be able to hurt you again. I promise."

And he was intending on keeping that promise by taking out Top Dollar and his goons for good. Experiencing your memories only fueled his anger towards the top dog criminal.

You simply replied, "I thought I lost you forever." Tears filling your eyes once again. Eric could feel wetness collecting in his shirt.

Eric would squeeze you closer to him. He always gives the best hugs, especially the 'I thought I lost you' kind of hugs. 

After anxiety had finally loosened its grip on you and Eric knew you were comfortable, he would focus his attention to your leg. Giving you more medication for the pain, rebandaging it, giving you water to stay hydrated, anything you needed really.

Eric would try to hook up the electricity so you could watch some form of entertainment on the TV or the record player so you could listen to music. If that fails because he's not the best with that kind of stuff then he's going to get you some books for you to read.

While you spent time resting and healing, Eric spent time executing his plan. He was surprised how much of an inconvenience it was to take out Top Dollar. With the help of the crow, Eric basically plowed through Top Dollar and anyone else how sided with him.

When he gets back, takes a shower to get the blood off and lays back in bed with you, you were still deep in sleep. Eric notes how peaceful you look, wanting nothing more for you to be happy. 

Something that is constantly on his mind is when he's going to have to return back to the dead. Will it be in a few hours? A day? A week? Never?

However long it may be, as long as he knew you were content then he would make sure to treasure ever moment of life with you.

[duhragonball]

Hellsing Liveblog Afterward

So, this is just a place for me to toss in some other Hellsing stuff I wanted to talk about outside the reading of Hellsing itself.

Okay so first off, I wanted to document this cool trivia I noticed about Rip van Winkle, the werewolf(?) with the musket that fires magic bullets.   Her weapon is based on the 19th Century German opera Der Freischütz. The opera is based on a  story published by Johann August Apel in 1811, and this writing was based on German folklore.    The legend involves a marksman who makes a contract with the devil and receives seven magic bullets.   Six will hit whatever the marksman wants, but the seventh is at the sole discretion of the devil himself.   In Hellsing, the Major speaks to Rip about her own musket and reminds her that the opera ends with Zamiel, the devil, coming to claim his due.  This is intended to foreshadow Alucard counterattack on the H.M.S. Eagle, where he plows through Rip’s defenses and kills her in gruesome fashion.

So I went back and counted all the times Rip van Winkle shoots her musket, just to see if there was any special significant to it.    The first was when the old Nazi officers complain to the Major, and Rip shoots the Colonel’s cane before he can strike the Major with it.     At least, I’m pretty sure that was the idea here.  The cane breaks and everyone looks around and Zorin points to the lady with the gun to indicate who just did that.   So that’s one bullet.

After assuming control of the H.M.S. Eagle, Rip van Winkle meets with the Eagle’s first officer, who betrayed the crew to Millennium in exchange for vampire powers.    She then betrays him and his fellow traitors, killing them all with a single shot from her musket.    This is where we first find out what her ability is.   So that’s two.

The British Navy tries to take back the ship by sending a helicopter full of SEALs, but Rip destroys the entire team with another shot from her musket.   So that’s three shots fired.

While Hellsing prepares their own response, the Navy tries again, this time sending a fighter plane to sink the Eagle with missiles, but Rip shoots down the missiles and the plane with one bullet.   Four.

This is where I started to wonder if there was a particular pattern to Rip’s use of the musket.  I’m pretty sure she just uses one bullet and can fire it as many times as she pleases, but she was literally singing songs from the opera and it seemed kind of superfluous to have her foil two separate attack by the Navy.  The first one showed us that conventional forces wouldn’t get the job done, so the second one only makes sense if Kouta Hirano was just trying to add to the count.

Then Alucard arrives aboard a modified SR-71 Blackbird.   At 85,000 ft in the air, he’s out of range, but then he nosedives onto the deck of the ship.    Rip fires again to destroy the Blackbird before it crashes into them.    Five.

Alucard survives the crash and wipes out all of Rip’s soldiers while she has a panic attack.   Cornered, she finally gathers her wits and attacks Alucard.  Her bullet hurts him, but he eventually catches it in his teeth, neutralizing her weapon and leaving her at his mercy.  That’s shot number six.

I was hoping this shot would be the seventh, since the seventh bullet in Der Freischütz belongs to the devil, and Alucard caught this one in his teeth, but no.   Then I remembered that the musket gets fired one last time...

... in London, when Alucard releases the familiars of all the victims he’s consumed over the centuries, including Rip Van Winkle.  She fires the musket once more, but this time it’s Alucard directing the shot into the helicopters of the Ninth Crusade.   Shot number seven is at the discretion of the devil himself, and “Dracula” is a diminutive of “Dracul”, a Romanian word for “devil”.   Neat stuff.

Okay, so now let’s talk about Seras, because that’s kind of my jam.   What’s the deal with this line?  “Her existence is somewhat of a marvel.  You could say it’s somewhat of a joke.  Perhaps she herself has not even noticed yet!!”

That’s the Major discussing Sir Integra and Seras in Volume 5.   He stresses that neither is to be underestimates, and I think he makes a good case for Integra, but with Seras he never actually comes to the point.   So what’s up with that? 

Of course, there’s the truth we saw in the final battle.  Once she finally drank blood of her own volition, Seras became a full-on vampire and one of the most powerful warriors on the field.   She destroyed the Captain quite handily, and he was the strongest guy Millennium had.   But this seems a tad obvious?   Why not just spell it out for Zorin.  “Hey, our intel says she’s weaker than expected because she won’t drink blood, but that could change at a moment’s notice, and she’s still strong enough to take down a lot of our soldiers, so proceed with caution.” 

I’m not saying the Major is wrong.   He told Zorin not to engage, and he made the right call.    I’m just wondering what the “joke” is exactly.  

I think it might be one of two things.   By the end of Hellsing, Seras demonstrates a similar level of ability to Alucard.  Sunlight appears to have no effect on her, she can summon familiars like Alucard, and regenerate her wounds with great alacrity.   I’m pretty sure she’d be about as hard to kill as Alucard himself, which Integra said was a product of Hellsing “enhancements”, rather than natural vampire power.   Except Seras was never “enhanced”, she seems to have just inherited these “super-vampire” powers from Alucard when he turned her.   The Major and Doctor may have anticipated this, and the “joke” was that Seras could completely upset the balance of their plans, except she’s too squeamish to drink the blood that would make this possible.  

Or, the joke might be that Alucard turned Seras at all.   He just sort of did this out of nowhere, and I’m pretty sure no one saw that coming.   Millennium and Walter had been keeping tabs on Hellsing for decades, and not much changed until Alucard decided to add Seras to the group.   The vampires in Millennium’s Last Battalion were all produced through the Doctor’s artificial vampire research, which was based upon intense study of Mina Harker, the last person Alucard turned into a vampire before he met Seras.   

So from that standpoint, Seras represents a superior version of Mina, who represents the ideal that the Doctor was trying to achieve.  At best, his finest artificial vampires could only be as strong as Mina Harker, and Seras got that way in one night by a twist of fate.  

I guess there’s no way to be sure what the Major meant.  I checked the OVA subs and dubs and they basically repeat the same line, so there’s nothing for me to triangulate there.  And maybe it only refers to Seras being a joke in the sense that she was mostly comic relief up to that point.   Even that badass moment she had against Jan Valentine’s ghouls probably didn’t impress anyone at the Millennium office.   

Finally, I checked out Hellsing: The Dawn, and it really wasn’t worth the trouble.   I couldn’t find any official English release, so I sort of gave up on it, but I finally ran across it last week and decided to check it out.   

Basically, it’s only six chapters, and very little actually gets done in those six chapters.   I’m not sure if Kouta Hirano is just running super late on the thing, of if he abandoned it completely, but my guess is he got this far in and decided there really wasn’t any point in continuing.   

Let me break it down for you.

Chapter 1: Walter is sent to the Major’s facility in Warsaw, to destroy the vampire research.   He jumps out of a plane with Alucard’s coffin.

Chapter 2: The Doctor reports on his progress to the Major, and they briefly discuss “She” aka Mina Harker.  From what I gather, Mina is still alive/undead in 1944.   Then Walter crashes into their facility and declares his intentions to kill them all.

Chapter 3: The Major is impressed with Walter’s power and offers him a place in his command.  Walter refuses and the Major leaves him to die at the hands of the Captain.

Chapter 4: Walter fights the Captain, and Alucard finally emerges from his coffin in Girlycard form.

Chapter 5: Walter and Alucard fight the Captain, who now stands revealed as a werewolf.   The Major somehow recognizes Alucard on sight and takes an interest in observing the battle.

Chapter 6: Alucard leaves to go hunt down the Captain’s superiors, leaving Walter to fight alone.  Alucard then encounters Rip van Winkle and defeats her with ease.    He seems like he’s about to kill her when some menacing figures approach from the shadows...

In other words, not a whole lot actually happens that we couldn’t have guessed from the original Hellsing manga.    At the rate he was going, it would have taken Hirano maybe 30 or 40 chapters to actually get to anything truly juicy, and I’m not sure the audience would have wanted to wait around for that.    The main problem is that we already know how this ends.   None of the good guys or bad guys die, because they all show up in Hellsing 55 years later.  The Major will lose badly enough that he has to evacuate the whole operation to Brazil, and that interests me because somehow he has to lose this battle, but not so badly that he can’t escape.  

What disappoints me is that there’s really only three things of interest about this part of the Hellsing mythos: Walter’s decision to betray England, Alucard’s relationship with Walter, and the Major’s relocation from Euope to South America.    The Dawn appears to gloss over all of these.   The Major asks Walter to switch sides in their very first encounter.   Walter refuses, but we know he’ll say yes later, so there doesn’t feel like there’s any conflict to this.  So far, Walter comes off like a little shithead, so if he changes his mind at the end of this story it’ll seem completely capricious.   I’d like to think the Major could say something persuasive to convince him, or Alucard could piss Walter off enough to push him into the Major’s arms, but none of that seems to be happening.  

The Girlycard form is taken completely for granted.   Al shows up and Walter immediately takes offense.  He knows Alucard doesn’t normally look like this and he sees no reason for this new look.   Al just says the same thing he says about it in 1999, that form and appearance mean nothing to him.   Well if it doesn’t mean anything to Alucard or Walter, what’s the point?

The way I always imagined it, the Girlycard form had a lot of emotional baggage for Walter.   I figured he met Alucard in this form, and they spent some time together hunting down the Major.    Walter fell in love with Girlycard, even though he should have known better, and when Alucard finally abandoned the form, he knew that there was no way his feelings would ever be returned.   And this would build resentment within Walter, making him more interested in joining the Major.  

Instead, none of that seems to be happening.    This is just one big long fight in one building.   Hirano already threw his biggest gun at Walter, so there’s no buildup to the Captain.   Alucard won’t fight the Captain, but it’s unclear what else he’s supposed to do instead.  There might be a good story in all of this, but these first six chapters don’t encourage me.    Also, they keep jumping over to check in on Arthur Hellsing in London.   I don’t think this guy is Integra’s father, but maybe her grandfather had the same first name?    He looks cool, but he has nothing to do.   He’s like thousands of miles removed from the action, so anything he says or does just comes back to him talking about how tough and cool Walter is.   So yeah, I think The Dawn is a huge waste of time, and maybe Kouta Hirano reached the same conclusion.  

And... yeah, that’s all I’ve got.   In May, I’ll be liveblogging another comic.   Will it be as successful?   Only time will tell...

[hookedontaronfics]

First Contact series Part 1

Title: First Contact - Part 1 Rating: T Pairing: Taron x OC Warnings: None A/N: A fluffy first meeting between Taron and a fan and her friends. Just some cute, sweet Taron. I hope to turn this into an eventual series, where the main character runs into Taron more often and a relationship develops over time. Will eventually involve more mature themes! I hope you enjoy! x

The first time I met Taron Egerton, it was raining. Storming, really, the rain coming down in heavy sheets as my friends and I ducked into a nearby Tesco. We were giggling and breathless after the mad dash for cover, the first crack of thunder announcing the sudden storm.

There we stood, between the bags of crisps and racks of tabloids, wringing out our hair and rather making a mess of the floor.

“I am absolutely soaked,” Jules laughed, waving her arms wildly and sending a spray of droplets our way.

“Jesus, you’re going to get us kicked out of here!” I laughed, grabbing her arm and pulling her down an aisle, our friend and roomie Mary following along behind us, our sneakers squeaking against the tile floor. Thankfully, none of the clerks seemed to give us a second look as we found ourselves aimlessly wandering and trying to unstick our wet clothes from our skin.

“I knew we should have brought umbrellas!” Mary grumbled playfully in her German accent. She had just moved to London recently, and become the perfect third roommate for Jules and me.

“Alright, you were right!” I laughed. “Again!” I smirked, tossing a bag of crisps at her, which she caught easily before placing it back on the shelf.

“Well, should we get anything while we’re here?” Jules asked.

“Brown sauce. I just finished the last of it,” I laughed.

“God, you’re obsessed,” Jules said, tugging on my arm toward the condiment aisle.

“You don’t understand! We don’t have it where I’m from! I had to order it from Amazon!” I laugh, all three of us wiping tears out of our eyes as we laughed over that.

“My poor American friend,” Jules said, patting my arm as we turned the corner into the aisle lined with bottles of mustards and salad cream. That’s when I saw him and stopped dead in my tracks, Mary practically plowing into me from behind. I must have made a strangled sound, because Jules looked over at me, her eyes wide.

See, here’s the thing: I was a huge fan of Taron Egerton. I’d watched every movie he’d ever done, read every interview and watched hours of videos on YouTube, possibly to the point where my friends worried about my sanity. I’d never met him, of course, and didn’t think chances like that happened to girls like me. Cons were too expensive and, well, bumping into him on the street had only been a fantasy. And yet, there he was, in all his gorgeous charm, wearing jeans that were far too tight and a blue blazer over his usual white shirt, basket in hand.

Before I had a chance to think, let alone react, Jules gave me a wicked grin and, quick as a flash, grabbed a bottle of brown sauce off the shelf and expertly rolled it down the tile like she was bowling.

I stood there, mouth open, absolutely dumbfounded, as the bottle came to a stop against Taron’s shoe and he looked up and over at me. Of course Jules and Mary had already disappeared around the corner, leaving me to try and find my voice and say anything at all.

“I believe this is yours,” Taron said, holding out the bottle to me. For a long moment I just stood there and stared, before managing to regain my composure.

“Ah, yes. Clumsy me,” I tried to smile brightly.

“Yeah, only it was your friend trying to get you in trouble, wasn’t it?” he said, giving me the warmest smile. I felt the blush creeping up my neck and willed it to not make my face red.

“Maybe you’re the kind of trouble I’ve been looking to get into,” I said, the words tumbling out before I had a chance to stop them. Now I was fully blushing. “Sorry, that was creepy, wasn’t it?” I said, and he laughed.

“Well, no one’s yet tried to pick me up in a Tesco, so it’s definitely a first,” he grinned at me. “It’s Taron, by the way,” he said, as if I didn’t already know that. Those peridot eyes of his had a way of making girls stupid, and I was no exception.

“Uh, Jess…,” I said, stumbling over my own name.

He tilted his head slightly and grinned. “Jessica, or…?” he asked.

“I just go by Jess,” I managed, though the way he’d said Jessica made me sort of want to faint. Get a grip, I told myself. “And I don’t know why no one’s tried to pick you up here. It’s quite romantic, between the gravies and puddings,” I said, hoping that sounded as witty as I thought it did and not just pathetic, but Taron obliged me and chuckled.

“Well, thank you for being the saviour of my brown sauce,” I grinned, having been hugging the bottle to myself for lack of anything better to do with my hands.

“You’re quite welcome,” he replied politely, and for a moment I was caught up gazing at his face, at the way the corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled.

“Right. I should...go then,” I said, suddenly feeling awkward and all-too-aware of my all-too-American accent despite the fact that I’d been living in London for about a year. “I hate to take up your time when you’re clearly just shopping. I’m also sorry about my friends being obnoxious,” I added for good measure.

“Don’t worry about that, it’s been a pleasure,” he smiled. “You’ve been quite lovely,” he said, making my head swim a bit.

“Thanks,” I said, shivering as a blast of air conditioning hit me, and he seemed to notice for the first time that I looked a bit like a drowned rat. I could only hope my makeup hadn’t already melted down my face.

“My god, you’re soaked to the bone!” he said, suddenly concerned.

“It just started storming out of nowhere!” I replied with an indignant laugh. “I won’t melt, but it’s freezing in here.”

“Right, I know just the thing you need,” he said, snapping his fingers. “Where’d your friends get off to?” he said, walking resolutely toward the end of the aisle to find them there, giggling unashamedly. Of course.

“Come on then, you girls need some warming up,” he said, beckoning us all to follow him as he made his way to the store’s cafe, and subsequently offered to buy us all a coffee to warm us up. Jules mouthed “oh my god” before wiggling her eyebrows at me. I just rolled my eyes back at her, but inside I felt like squealing.

“Thank you, Taron, this is too much,” I tried to say, but he simply waved it off and then handed us each a steaming cup.

“Nonsense. You’ve been kind to me,” he said, and I wondered if he meant that I hadn’t rushed at him or asked for a selfie. Because mostly all I’d done was blush and try not to say anything exceedingly embarrassing.

“You know, Jess here is one of your biggest fans,” Mary grinned, putting her equally wet arm around me and snickering as my cup nearly slipped from my fingers in response. I quickly set it down on the table we were standing near, not trusting myself to hold onto it.

“Really,” Taron just laughed before smirking at me. “So you instantly knew who I was, love?” I could only nod, feeling slightly mortified. “Well,” he replied, grabbing one of my hands in his and, to my disbelief, lifting it up to his face and placing a sweet kiss on the back of my hand. “The world needs more fans like you.” His eyes fairly sparkled at me, and before I managed to say anything more, he nodded at both Jules and Mary, said “Good day, ladies,” picked up his basket and left. The chills running down my spine were no longer from the cold.

Jules and Mary and I slid into the booth, sipping at our coffees before Jules broke the silence by fairly squealing at me. “Oh my god, Jess, that happened! Taron Egerton just bought us coffees!”

“And he kissed your hand! You’re never washing that again,” Mary joked.

“Eww,” I laughed, still having a hard time believing it had happened at all. “Am I going to wake up just to find this was a lovely dream? Because that’s been my life,” I said, shaking my head. Jules reached over and pinched my arm lightly. “Ouch!” I said, snatching my arm away from her and rubbing it.

“Nope, definitely real,” she just grinned.

“You should definitely write a fic about this!” Mary giggled. “I bet it would be super cute.”

“I don’t know, you guys,” I said. “It’s not like I have picture proof!” I added, playfully pouting.

“Or do you,” Jules grinned like a mad cat, holding out her phone and showing me that she’d been peeking around the corner snapping photos while I’d been talking to Taron in the aisle. I gasped out loud. Most of them were slightly blurry or I looked mostly awful, but there were a couple snaps that could be classified as cute. Okay, at least on Taron’s part.

“Jules, I freaking love you!” I shouted, disturbing some patrons nearby as Mary shushed me playfully. 

Jules texted the photos to me and grinned. “You’d better thank me later. You would have never said anything to him without me.”

“Do you want an award or something?” I laughed lightly, just staring at the photos while we finished our coffees, feeling indeed much warmer than before.

“So, ladies, shall we get on with our day?” Jules said in her eternally cheerful British accent.

“I’ve still got to pay for my brown sauce!” I laughed. “The sauce that started it all.” Mary and Jules giggled at that, following me to the checkout and then back out into the world, the sun shining brightly now that the storm had moved on through. I couldn’t help but smile up at it, aware of just how special the moment had been for me.

I knew I would have to figure out how to share the loveliness that was my experience with Taron, because the world needed to know how fantastically sweet he was, how kind and considerate, but for now, it was my moment to savor. If you liked this fic, keep reading! - Part 2 here

[greyias]

FIC: By the Guidance of Stars - Chapter 13

Title: By the Guidance of Stars Fandom: SWTOR Pairing: Theron Shan/f!Jedi Knight Rating: E (Chapter Rating: T) Genre: Angst, H/C, Romance, Humor Synopsis: The Coalition tries to heal in the aftermath of the Battle of Yavin 4, but not every wound is physical. A series of missing scenes set during the end of Shadow of Revan. Warnings: See Chapter 1. Author’s Notes: It’s done! It’s complete at long last! *joyful sobbing* Thank you all for sticking around this long, and through the long hiatus of writer’s block.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Crossposted to AO3

Usually Theron liked to take a little longer getting decent, but the ticking clock forced him to rush through getting cleaned up — just taking enough time to restore his hair to its normal glory. Only a poor spy would ignore a crucial detail like bedhead in covering up his, ahem, undercover activities.

By the time he’d emerged from the refresher, his lovely companion had managed to get herself back into most of that damnable, confusing armor and getup and look almost presentable. He’d rounded up and sorted through the haphazardly discarded articles of clothing while she hit the shower first, which probably made her task a little easier. She waited patiently for him to don ninety-percent of his own attire before quirking an expectant eyebrow at him.

“What?”

“I think someone might ask questions if I suddenly started walking around with my hair down.”

“I kind of like it.”

“I will keep that in mind,” she said, almost a little too patiently, “but I still need to put my hair back up.”

“What’s stopping you?” He grinned, already knowing the answer.

“Theron Shan,” she put her hands on her hips, the motion carrying a little more weight and authority now that she had those giant pauldrons back on, “you know very well that you still have my hair tie.”

“Oh? This?” Theron waved his wrist, in her direction where the little leatheris strap was still tied. “I was thinking about keeping it. I think it suits me.”

She pressed her lips together and shook her head, but he caught the edges of her mouth quivering in a repressed smile. “Unless you have something else I can use for my hair, you will need to return it to me.”

“If you insist.”

“Master Satele will be expecting us very soon,” she reminded him, “and I do not believe either of us really want to try and explain why we kept her waiting.”

“There you go,” he muttered as he carefully untied the little strap, “being all logical again.”

“I have never met anyone as dedicated to irrationality as you,” she quipped back, expertly gathering her hair up into a ponytail.

“It’s one of my charms.” He could have just handed over the hair tie and let her finish the job, but it seemed much more efficient, not to mention a convenient way of stepping in close again, if he tied it back into place himself. “It’ll work on you eventually.”

A hint of color rushed to her cheeks, already letting him know the effectiveness of said charms. She tried to cover up the reaction by smoothing her hand over her hair to check on the neatness of the ponytail. 

“But you’re probably right — again,” he continued, “we shouldn’t keep the boss waiting.”

“No, of course not,” she said, and to her credit, only sounded the slightest bit flustered.

Their trip to the clifftop where Satele was overseeing the launch of Republic’s ships was probably a little more hurried than it would have been, had they dawdled a little less in the shuttle. He needed to shift personas now, try and make it look like they were merely colleagues to the outside observer. Something that might have been called into question right now with just how close they were walking together. As the clearing came into sight, he spied his mother’s silhouette in the distance. And if he squinted, it appeared that Jakarro, Kira, and several others were waiting. Okay, yeah, they couldn’t walk in together now, that’d be way too suspicious. 

So he peeled off at the last second, to a narrow walk path someone had cut through the foliage.

“Where are you going?” she asked quietly.

He just shot her back a grin, and waved her on. If his ears didn’t deceive him, he thought he heard an exasperated sigh as he plowed through the underbrush. He gave his hair one last check before emerging from the tree line, just a few seconds before Grey did from the other path. Satele gave him a polite nod at his arrival, gaze focused on the various Republic vessels that were taking off. He had almost convinced himself that this had been the perfect ploy, when he caught Kira glancing at him, then back at her boss, before rolling her eyes.

Okay.

Maybe not one hundred percent effective. But it was all he could come up with at the last minute. His mind had been occupied with more important tasks than coming up with a proper cover story. Like making sure every article of clothing had been tucked back into all of the right places — and maybe sneaking in one last kiss before unlocking the shuttle door.

Thankfully Jakarro was less observant than a nosy ginger Jedi and hadn’t seemed to connect the dots quite as quickly. Theron was fairly certain that the Wookiee would have practiced far less discretion, and the loud protocol droid still strapped to his chest even less so. Besides, the nearly bone shattering farewell hug that Jakarro had swept the spy up in had been quite enough, thank you — especially considering it had smashed Theron’s face into C2-D4’s disembodied head for an up-close and personal goodbye. He was saved from spending the entire flight back to Coruscant in a kolto tank treating re-cracked ribs by his dashing Jedi Knight in shining armor rushing to his rescue.

“Jakarro,” she said amicably, laying her hand on the large Wookiee’s shoulder, “it has been such a pleasure working with you and Deefour in this endeavor.”

The ploy worked and he abandoned his current hugging victim to envelop her gauntlet with his big paw in a firm handshake. Theron tried to maintain his dignity and didn’t stagger away upon being released, but did move out of grabbing distance in case the smuggler decided resume his affectionate farewell. 

“This has been the most fun the droid and I have ever had, tiny friend,” Jakarro roared in Shriiwook.

“You two certainly have a way of livening things up,” Grey agreed.

“I’ll say,” Kira added with a knowing smirk in Theron’s direction. Silently she mouthed the words ‘Motesta Driller’ at him.

He glared back at her. “Thanks. I had just forgotten about that.”

“Don’t lie, you’ll never forget.”

He refused to deign that with a response, and beyond their little group, he could make out Satele raising a brow in inquiry. That in itself was an uncomfortable reminder of the conversation she had nearly walked in on earlier that morning, not to mention his afternoon activities with the Grand Master’s favorite knight. He cleared his throat, and shot Kira a more serious look.

“You know,” she added quickly, turning back to the unlikely set of smugglers, “it really is a shame that you two have to leave so soon.”

“As lovely as this has been,” Deefour said, “we have some lucrative business opportunities awaiting us back on that pirate infested planet. Nothing to worry yourselves over — just normal, legitimate business.”

“Right,” Grey drew the word out to several syllables.

“Hopefully these ‘opportunities’ turn out better than your Manaan contract,” Theron said flatly.

“You take on one client that’s working for a secret cult trying to take over the galaxy and you never hear the end of it.” If Deefour could have shook his head, he would have. As it was, the color in his eyes just blinked in dissatisfaction.

“You have to admit,” Grey said, “that can be a sticking point for some.”

“I have implemented a new screening process!”

Jakarro growled, “We have no screening process!”

“Of course not.” Kira rolled her eyes.

“You know, you could join my crew if you’d prefer.” The lilt in Grey’s tone was teasing, but Theron was fairly certain the offer to adopt the wayward pair was serious. “The chances of you winding up on the bottom of the ocean floor again are very small.”

“As tempting as that sounds—”

“There is not enough room for the Mighty Jakarro on your tiny ship!” Jakarro cut the droid off, his word choice summoning flashbacks to the “pep talk” from the night before. 

Mercifully, before the explanation on the Wookiee’s size could go down any unwanted path, Deefour tactfully added, “Another time perhaps.”

“The Force works in mysterious ways sometimes,” Satele remarked as the smuggler duo disappeared back into the tree line.

“I’m not sure ‘mysterious’ is the word I’d use,” Theron muttered.

The sarcastic comment didn’t phase her, instead Satele turned to Grey. “I have just finished a meeting with the Council regarding all that has transpired.”

The knight didn’t exactly stiffen, but there was the slightest shift in her posture. Straightening her back and folding her loose hands together in front of her, which forced the pauldrons on her shoulders to jut out. The natural, cheerful expression she’d been wearing for the previous conversation smoothed into a pleasantly neutral one. Her cape fluttered lightly in the breeze behind her as her transformation back into the perfect, model Jedi seemed almost complete.

It was a curious sight to behold, not unlike watching someone slip a mask into place. Theron didn’t quite know what to make of the uncomfortable feeling that bubbled up in his gut seeing it happen, even though he did the same thing all the time. When it came time to do the job, the mask was fixed in place. Another similarity between their chosen professions.

“The work that all of you have done against Revan and his followers is to be commended.” Satele’s tone had a note of officiality to it.

Curious, Theron glanced over at Kira. She had tucked her arms behind her back in an almost formal fashion and was more focused on the proceedings about to happen with something akin to pride than acknowledging the spy’s silent question. Interesting.

“You have a unique perspective and experience among all of us,” Satele continued, “especially when it comes to dealing with Vitiate.”

There was no flinch from Grey at the mention of the name, just a tip of her head in Satele’s direction of acknowledgment.

“The Republic is forming a taskforce to address the renewed threat that he poses, and I have Darth Marr’s word that the Empire is doing so as well. We need all of our best people working on this — and it only makes sense that the Order’s foremost expert on the matter represent us in this endeavor.” 

All of those words were meant to be a compliment, the appointment an honor — but a trickle of dread dripped down Theron’s spine for some reason, settling in his gut hard. Ngani Zho liked to say that what most people called gut instinct was just the Force reaching out to them. That people would be better off listening to that. It was one of the memories of his mentor that had a tendency to either rankle or comfort him depending on the day. At this moment in time, though, it was unsettling. A bit like tasting the tang of ozone in the air before an oncoming thunderstorm.

“You are already familiar with the SIS’s liaison for the task force,” Satele said, rousing Theron back to the present.

He gave a half-hearted shrug at both Kira and Grey. “Hi.”

It wasn’t exactly the most witty of remarks, but he was still unsettled. It made perfect sense that the Republic would involve Grey in this, choose her to lead the fight against the Emperor. She’d already done it before after all. It would be more stupid to keep her sidelined really. But it also meant she’d now be on the front lines tracking Vitiate down. Confronting him again. The thought of that stirred at the unease in his gut and he wasn’t sure where it was coming from. Maybe the Force was trying to warn him of something to come, if it actually did deign to actually associate with him in any way, or maybe it was just his own feelings surging to the forefront and blocking out common sense.

Of course, the bright side of all of this meant he’d be seeing her again, probably sooner rather than later. Even if he’d prefer that reunion to be under much different circumstances.

“The council was unanimous on this decision, and one other.” Oblivious to Theron’s internal monologue and struggle, his mother continued to drone on. The sudden shifting of those giant pauldrons caught his attention, as Grey unclasped her hands in front of her and tucked them behind her back, feet spreading apart into an even more formal stance that matched Kira’s. 

“Master Greyias Highwind,” Satele said proudly, “you have served both the Jedi Order and the Republic under extraordinary circumstances, time and time again.”

Grey’s serenely composed Jedi expression broke, blue eyes widening in realization, even as Kira’s lips started to twitch in a repressed smile. Almost as if she knew what was about to be said.

“You embody every ideal in the Jedi Code—”

Theron managed to bite back a laugh, just barely, and was struggling to hold back a full-on grin as he caught Grey’s gaze. He physically pressed his lips together tightly to try and hold back in his reaction, mind immediately straying back to the shuttle. He caught just she slightest purse of her lips and light flush of extra color rush to her cheeks, making him wonder if their thoughts were running in sync at this very moment.

Well, almost every ideal, he thought to himself with no small amount of smugness. The important ones anyway.

Satele either missed, or was intentionally ignoring the silent byplay going on. “It is with great pride and honor as Grand Master, that I name you Battlemaster of the Jedi Order.”

A wave of pride rushed over Theron then, watching the new Battlemaster blink, once. Twice. Her lips twitching as if fighting a smile down and to live up to that embodiment of every ideal of the Jedi Code she was supposed to represent. As much as he had his own issues with the Jedi, it was readily apparent that she adored the Order she worked for. And seeing her so happy and honored was… it was something alright.

“I thank you and the Council for this honor, Master Satele,” Grey had almost, almost managed to keep the smile out of her voice, so she could retain the appearance of that proper, perfect Jedi. “I will do everything I can to fulfill my duties with wisdom, skill, and humility.”

“You have my every confidence,” Satele said, her own serene countenance cracking, a rare and genuine smile emerging underneath.

Theron watched the interaction with probably a little more interest than called for. He wasn’t sure he had ever seen that warm, indulgent expression before on Satele. Prior to this whole business with the Revanites, Theron’s dealing with his mother had been limited and always very tense. He’d always cast the blame outwards for that, it was easy, almost natural to do so. But it was possible there was… more than just a little bit of baggage that made its way into each of their interactions. Listening to Grey the night before — and watching the two of them now — was starting to make him reconsider if that baggage somehow prevented him from keeping a more open mind. 

Whenever he talked with Satele about anything approaching a personal subject, Theron felt himself revert into that angry teenager left to wander the galaxy on his own. He’d learned quickly that it was best to make the first strike to put his opponent on the offensive — and for some reason when it came to his mother he always reverted to that mentality.

When they’d talked back on Coruscant for the first time as mother and son, she had promised him she would always be there if he needed her. And she… had been. He was alive now because she had convinced Jace to bring the Republic fleet to Duros when he’d asked. And she’d forged a Coalition with Darth Marr on his (and Grey’s) word — granted they’d had the data to back it up. But it very easily could have gone the other way. And she’d supported all of his judgement calls when it came to the mission here on Yavin. Had stood next to him for the briefing with Trant. She’d even given him, granted in a slightly underhanded way, his old ship back.

And yes, she had tried to meddle yesterday, but it hadn’t been unprovoked when he replayed the memory of the incident. And it maybe hadn’t actually been about what he’d been assuming at first.

The more thought he gave it, the more he had to wonder if he was… missing anything. By just reacting all of the time. And not listening. Always pushing any personal interaction they had into an argument. Shutting her out of his life completely, instead of… not.

Not that he had any idea of how to go about that. Probably best to not think about it, keep focused on the here and now.

“Our first priority is to understand what happened the other night,” Satele was still addressing her new Battlemaster. “Even if we can guess at what his ultimate goal likely is, we need to understand where he might have gone if we are to bring an end to his threat. We will need more intelligence before we can be sure.”

“That’s probably where I come in,” Theron cut in, shooting a look over at Grey. It was probably the easiest way to try and explain their earlier conversation back in the shuttle, at least while everyone else was listening.

“It is a large task,” Grey said evenly, matching his gaze, “and we must all do our part.”

If Satele sensed any underlying tone or tension to their words, she didn’t show it, instead turning her attention above to where the Coalition’s ships were filling the sky. Behind the gas giant, Yavin’s sun was beginning to set in its orbit, its rays bouncing off of the red planet and reflecting onto the moon. A deep red hue filled the valley beyond them, haloing the ships in a a beautiful but haunting light.

“Not sure I’ll ever get used to the sunsets here,” Theron said absently, watching the glow creep across the canopy below. “Kind of glad I don’t have to.”

“It will be nice to return to some semblance of normality,” Satele agreed. “This entire endeavor has been… different. In both good and disturbing ways.”

That was putting it lightly. “Yeah, I mean, as happy as I will be to get off this rock, I’m not exactly looking forward to trying to explain this whole mess to everyone else back on Coruscant. Conspiracies, government infiltrations. Not just one Revan back from the dead but two. Or whatever that was. I’m not even sure I understand half of what went down — kind of sounds insane when I say it aloud.”

“I would be happy to assist with that,” Satele said cautiously, “with your permission of course. I am more… familiar with matters of the Force.”

He arched a brow at her, trying to contain his dubiety. “You sure? It’s going to be a lot of boring meetings.”

“You forget Theron,” she said, with just the tiniest hints of humor bubbling to the surface, “I studied the art of patience under Ngani Zho too. I am more than prepared for a few skeptical Republic officials.”

“This I have got to see.”

The smile he exchanged with her wasn’t infused with the soft and gentle warmth that he’d witnessed a few moments prior, but unlike all of their previous interactions, nothing in it was forced. It was a little more conspiratorial, with just a hint of mischief dancing in the eyes. And if he wasn’t imagining things, she shot him back one that was almost identical.

Huh.

Maybe that’s where he got it from.

Beyond his mother, he caught a glimpse of Grey, still standing at attention, gaze directed up to the sky as if she was trying to blend into the background and give the parent-child moment some semblance of privacy. Despite the projected formality and image of practiced disinterest, the corner of her lips were still quirked up ever so slightly.

“It is a long journey back to Coruscant,” Satele’s expression had shifted back into her normal, placid expression, “we should not keep the Dauntless waiting.”

“Probably need to go grab my ship in that case.” He indicated the path he’d exited from the jungle. “Speaking of… thanks. For that.”

If Theron hadn’t been watching, he might have missed the change in her expression. Like the subtle ripple on a still pond, it was just the barest of things. Brows arching up ever so slightly, the laugh lines he had never noticed as such easing just a little as she nodded an acknowledgement. It probably should have infuriated him that she didn’t say anything more, but oddly enough, it didn’t. There were others around, which would have made it awkward if she had, and maybe… maybe it was good enough as a start. The flight back to Coruscant was a long one, and there’d be plenty of time to talk more if he really wanted. Theron wasn’t really sure if he was ready for that yet — so best to let things rest where they landed for now.

He watched her exchange some parting words to both of the Jedi that remained, before sending him one last look as she made her way back to the shuttle that would take her back to the Dauntless. 

Realizing that it was now just the three of them, Kira gave a slow, wandering glance at her present company, before clearing her throat. “You know, I think Teeseven probably needs some help with those preflight checks. Make sure we’re ready to leave this Dark Side infested place for good.”

“If there is an issue with the ship, I can help—”

“Nah, I got this,” Kira said, tipping her head in Theron’s direction. “It’ll give you time to wrap up things.”

Grey gave her grateful smile. “Thank you, Kira.”

“Anytime.”

They both watched her departing form, the silence hanging in the air almost as if it was a physical thing. Theron shifted on the balls of his feet, glancing back out at the valley and jungle beyond, bathed in the red light of the sunset, before glancing back to see an expression directed at him, caught somewhere between irritation and amusement.

“Were you ever planning on telling me that was actually your shuttle?”

The laugh he let out was only half nerves, half relief that she’d broken through the barrier of quiet. He wasn’t meaning to stall, but… yeah. Yeah, he totally was. He didn’t want to do this.

“I did tell you,” Theron’s protest was about as weak and transparent as his attempts at delaying the inevitable, “you just didn’t believe me.”

She just shook her head, still unable to make up her mind whether she wanted to laugh or sigh in exasperation. In his head, the chrono that had been counting down from the moment he’d woken up hit zero, and with it, a feeling of some finality settling deep in his bones. As unexpectedly amazing as the day had turned out, he now had to face the worst part of it: the fact that it was now over.

“I’ve never been a fan of goodbyes,” he said quietly.

“We are on the same task force, Theron.” Grey cocked her head slightly, giving him a look he couldn’t quite decipher. “Do you really expect we won’t see each other?”

“No, it’s not that,” he tried, “I’ve just… usually I don’t work such long stretches with the same people like I have this time… what I mean is…” Hell, why was this so difficult? “I don’t usually see the same people day-to-day, and despite how much fun this planet has overall not been, I...”

“I’m going to miss you too, Theron,” she said gently. “For however long this next time apart will be.”

He shot her an awkward smile, trying to shrug off his chagrin over being unable to actually say those words aloud. There was a part of him that hated how she was able to so effectively reduce him to this rambly state without doing a damned thing, and how she seemed to always see right through it to the heart of the matter. Or rather… just to him.  Which was… not something he was supposed to want or like. But he did. 

More than he should have, considering that most spies would recoil at having anyone be able to see the real person underneath all of the layers carefully presented the world — but she wasn’t just anyone. She was… her. And maybe it was a dangerous thing, a liability even, to not just place his trust in someone like this, but allow himself to get lost in them. 

But he was Theron Shan, and he thrived on danger. When he looked at her — and the way her smile reached her eyes when set his heart racing like all of the best adrenaline rushes he’d ever chased  — he knew that she was the furthest thing from a liability. 

So this whole thing, whatever it was, was fine. Good even. Really and truly.

“I don’t exactly have a good track record with this sort of thing,” he admitted.

“It is new for me as well.”

“What I said before,” he said a bit clumsily, “about finding time… I still don’t know what my schedule looks like. But if our paths do cross again, sooner rather than later…”

She reached across the distance between them, twining their gloved fingers together. “I suppose we will just see what happens when that moment arrives.”

“I guess so,” he let out a half-laugh. “Sorry, I suck at this.”

“You are not as bad as you think,” she said gently, before sobering, “but Theron?”

“Hmm?”

“I meant what I said earlier too,” she looked him straight in the eye, as if it was important that he understand her, “about Vitiate. He’s dangerous.”

“I know,” he reminded her, “but we’ve got this. It’s going to work out in the end, I’m sure of it.”

Even if he had to turn the galaxy upside down to keep his promise. Whatever it took.

“And here I thought you were calling me the optimist.”

“Hey, I learned from the best.” He gave her a cheeky grin. 

She gave him that look again that he adored, the one where she couldn’t decide if she wanted to kiss him or smack him. It was something special — and more importantly — it was his. And he’d do everything in his power to protect it.

“Stars, I really want to kiss you again,” he murmured.

“What’s stopping you?” She looked almost deceptively innocent as she peered back at him, but he caught the hints of an impish smile forming. 

“Might land you in a world of trouble if someone saw us.”

She made a show of looking left. And then right. Up to the empty watch towers, then at the blazing sunset filled with ships leaving the atmosphere, down to the jungle surrounding them, before looking back at him. The mischievous smile was fully in place now, all traces of that serene mask fully tossed away now that they were alone. That perfect Jedi was gone, leaving this ridiculous dork in her place.

“I don’t see anyone watching,” she said lightly.

That was all the invitation he needed, and without another word he pulled her in for one last, slow lingering kiss. He still didn’t have the words for whatever this thing was, but he did know one thing.

It was worth fighting for.

[dumbgopher1]

Dancing on Ice part 1

Loki/ OFC, Avengers Assemble-esk, (I refuse to acknowledge the pain of infinity wars)

The Avengers were not happy, Thor had brought Loki back to Earth to serve out a term of service. Apparently Odin had thought that Loki would learn his lesson if he was banished to the same planet he had tried to take over, with most of his power gone. Like with Thor’s banishment he would get his powers back when he was worthy of them.

Great parenting right?!

Anyway, The avengers weren’t happy, Loki wasn’t happy, the only person pleased with the situation was Thor who was happy to both have his brother back and to spend more time on Earth. For the most part Loki just slunk around the Avengers mansion keeping out of people’s way— unless to torment them — or reading.

One day as he was trying to find a quiet place to read he happened upon a large empty hanger. When He stepped into the hanger, instantly his feet slipped out from under him. He placed his hand on the slick surface of the floor, it promptly turned blue showing his true skin. He jerked his hand away and gazed around the hanger. Seeing a figure moving quickly and smoothly around at the far end he got up, slowly gaining his balance on the slick ice that covered the floor in a thick sheet.

The figure began moving towards him, spinning making large lazy loops or fast movements. It was a woman he could tell wearing jeans, a sweater and tall boots, she was pretty her short brown hair pulled up into a tiny ponytail with bangs hanging over her face. She seemed to have— what were they called— headphones in. She hadn’t yet noticed him but when she did her gliding movements faltered for a split second before she came to a flourished stop in front of him showering him with tiny ice fragments. Loki noticed then her skin was abnormally pale almost with a blue undertone as if she was early stages of frostbite.

She took out her phone tapping the screen before pulling her headphones out, “do you need the hanger for something? Cuz I can clean up and leave if you want”

Loki liked the sound of her voice, it sounded like hot spiced cider and whiskey.

“Who are you I haven’t seen you before?”

She stuck out her hand—Loki noticed it was gloved— “I’m Ember Foxe I’m live and work here”.

“Ah one of Stark’s pets” Loki said starting to loose interest and ignoring her hand which she dropped.

“I am nobody’s pet! Who are you anyway?”

“You don’t know who I am?”

“I’ve been a bit cut off from the world” she answered cryptically

“I am Loki”

“Like the Norse god.”

“Yes”

“Awesome, now if you are not going to kick me out of the hanger I’m gunna go back to skating” when she said that Loki looked down at her feet noticing the fine blades on her boots.

“Skating?” When he asked that she laughed

“You’ve never skated before I thought you said you were from Scandinavia”

“No”

she smirked, “Would you like to learn?”

“Sure” he was very curious at this point

“Ok I'm guessing you don’t have skates” she looked up at him for conformation and he shook his head, “ok just don’t be alarmed”

She took off her gloves and got down on one knee in front of him, reaching out her hands she touched his boots. “This is one of the first things I learned how to do, I hope you don’t mind a little cold” thin sheets of ice covered his boots and moved down ending in thin blades similar into hers. He suddenly felt very unstable, as she stood.

“Now I’m going to smooth the ice it will be easier for you if it’s clean, stay there”.

She skated backwards for a few feet before bending and touching the ice with her fingertips and the lines from her passing disappeared. She replaced her gloves and skated back towards him.

“Ok give me your hands”

“What” Loki was a little incredulous

“Give me your hands I’m going to teach you the basic principle. It is easier the first time if someone helps you”

“Right” he growled, she gently pulled his book from his hand and slide it towards the door seeing his gauze follow it she reassured him “don’t worry the ice is dry and won’t melt until I want it to your book will be fine” she took his hands.

“Ok now step forward onto your right foot and push off with your left one” he did and they glided a few feet she skated backwards in front of him. “Good now keep doing that but alternate feet” they made one round of the hanger.

“Do you think your getting it?” She asked as he began to feel more confident

“Yes” Loki replied

“Good I’m going to let go now”

“Alright” he was feeling very confident, right up to the moment that she let go and skated away, He wobbled.

“Now remember, movement helps with the balance if you stop you have to shift your weight to start again”

She began skating circles around him as he wobbled offering tidbits of advice. Once he nearly fell backwards but felt a finger between his shoulder blades just enough pressure to keep him upright until he gained his balance. Soon he could skate around confidently, nothing fancy like what she did but pretty good.

“You’re doing really well” she offered

“You are a good teacher” he said losing his armor of snark in the fun of the activity

“Well I wouldn’t say that the last person I taught fell a lot and took me down with her a couple times cracked one of my ribs” she laughed

“How inconsiderate of her”

“Nah it was fine, she just wasn’t as graceful as you”

“Thank you”

Just then a voice called out across the hanger, “Ember get over here”,

It was Mr. Stark,

“Coming Mr. Stark” She turned and skated to the door where Tony stood, arms crossed glowering. Loki slowed to a stop then the ice disappeared and she trotted to Tony, he grabbed her and started scolding her, as he pulled her out of the hanger, but not before casting a glare over his shoulder at Loki. Loki got his book and went to sulk because the one person who had treated him kindly in the mansion would no longer after Stark talked to her.

-x-x-x-

Tony pulled Ember along,

“You need to stay away from him”

“But he’s kind to me, didn’t judge me at all”, her eyes were big. “Can you stop pulling my arm”

He didn’t let go nor did he stop pulling, “I don’t are how he treated you Ember, he is a villain and if you want to keep your place here and my protection you’ll stay away from him.”

She looked down, “yes Mr. Stark”

“And what have I told you about using your powers so frivolously”

“I’m sorry Mr. Stark I just missed skating”

“Boo fricken ho! Kid keep your power to yourself and keep your head down. Now I need you to clean the lab.” He stopped at the door to his lab and opened the door to her. Once she entered he closed the door and left.

-x-x-x-

As Ember cleaned the lab all alone, she began to wonder about Loki and what Tony had said. She had been isolated along time, didn’t know what Loki had done to earn Tony’s anger but he didn’t seem like such a bad guy. But while Ember wanted to judge Loki by he actions word her instead of what others said, she couldn’t loose this place to stay, if she did she would be on the streets again, on the run from Hydra. The irony of Loki calling her Tony’s pet hit her as she wasn’t plowed to do anything without Tony’s permission nor was she allowed to leave the mansion. Totally dependent on Tony’s beck and call and not allowed to interact with anyone. She decided she would stand up for herself, in a situation he couldn’t dismiss her.. Once she had finished cleaning. She went to her room, and crawled into the space under her bed. The tightness of the space, and the darkness comforted her, being hidden and the fact that no one could sneak up behind her eventually lulling her to sleep.

With sleep came dreams, not the dreams a young woman should have of expensive presents, attractive suitors and success in a chosen field, or even the strange Alice and wonderland-esk dreams that those with strong imaginations enjoy. No, these were nightmares of painful memory.

-x-x-x- dream (7 years prior)

“Look at the creep, god what a loner”

“I heard her parents were so disappointed with her they killed themselves”

“That’s just cruel Ales”

“Yeah not cool Ales”

“What, you guys are just as mean”

“But joking about her parents is just wrong”

“Whatever”

Ember heard the girls on the other side of the hall talking about her, she couldn’t wait to be done with high school and it’s pathetic drama, the hierarchy which would disintegrate after graduation in two weeks. Yeah maybe she was different, wore black almost exclusively, and didn’t have any friends at school, but that didn’t mean she was a freak. She just worked at the ice rink her grandpa owned and knew there were bigger things in the world than high school. Ember also knew how her parents really died. They had been in the military, mom in the air force, dad in the marines and both died in combat. She was proud her parents fought. Her grandpa had made sure she knew why and what they were fighting for.

Dream shift to the next December

It was cold and snowy, just slushy enough that the roads were wet and slick but the rivers and ponds not frozen over. Ember was running with her head phones in, just when she got to a bridge, a car spun out of control the back end spinning around and hitting her sending her flying over the side of the bridge into the water below. The water was cold and dark stealing’s her warmth. She could barely see the grey light of the day between the chunks of ice on the surface of the water. Desperately she tried to reach it but the current quickened by the melted snow of the day pulled her under into the darkness.

That night the river froze and Ember’s body with it, but she did not die. The cold awakened a latent mutant gene in her DNA, causing her to change. When she broke through the ice the next morning, she was miles from Home, down river. Her phone was long since dead and water logged and it seamed as if there was no warmth left in the world for her as she trudged up river in the direction of her home. It took her four hours of walking and constant shivering to make it to a town. Her long hair had frozen stiff and her skin had lost all color. When she got to the ER, the nurses jumped to help her when she said she had fallen in the river and one was kind enough to let her use a phone to call her grandpa.

He didn’t answer the first call nor the second, nor the third. On the fourth call, a man picked up the phone, “hello”

“Grandpa! I need you to come get me I’m in (sometown) at the ER”

“Who is this?”

“Wait who is this why do you have grandpa’s phone”

Chuckles “so you’re old Davie’s Grandkid huh, knew he’d gone soft.look kid your grandpappy isn’t worth shit and just got what was coming to him. If you know what’s good for you you won’t come home. Just run, run, run, because revenge extends to Davie’s family as well. And I’d hate to rough up a cute kid like you.”

The line went dead. And a line of ice crept up the IV line until it was completely frozen.

-x-x-x- end dreams

Part 2 coming soon

[glutko]

After some rewatching of the CD-i Zelda cutscenes, I think I can fully explain what happened to Link in The Wand of Gamelon, and why he ends up trapped in Lady Alma's mirror. Get ready for the biggest, most complex theory on the CD-i Zelda games...

PART 1 - Link's Actions

Let's go over happened to Link in The Wand of Gamelon.

Link was sent to Gamelon a month after the King went missing, just like he told Zelda to do. His mission was to find the King, and (most likely) finish the King's job of stopping Ganon's invasion of Gamelon.

Link's very confident that the King can defeat Ganon - he even does a flex to emphasize this. In addition, he seems to be more interested over wanting to bomb Dodongos than saving the King, and claims to be so hungry that he can "eat an Octorok!"

Link goes missing as well, and Zelda/Impa wait for an indeterminate amount of time - LATER STILL is not a very good time scale to work with! It probably wasn't a month like the Royal Family did with the King, though, as Zelda sounds fed up at the end of the intro.

In Sakado, Impa reveals that the King was captured by Ganon's forces. When Zelda asks her about Link, Impa says that he was in a 'terrible fight', and cannot tell what happened. The game makes this statement quite vague; was she talking about the aftermath, or the fight itself? Or both?

After Zelda clears Tykogi Tower, she meets up with Harbanno in his bakery in Sakado. There, he jokes about how Link is so hungry that he can eat 10 loaves of bread. Zelda laughs, then corrects his joke; he could eat at LEAST ten. Now, it's possible that Zelda told Harbanno about Link, but it's more likely that Link met Harbanno at some point in his Gamelon adventure, and likely ate a lot of his baked goods.

Zelda defeats Wizzrobe in Shutoy Lake's Red Tower, where she meets up with Lady Alma. She's implied to be a noble of the island, and may or may not be related to Duke Onkled. Alma says that she actually MET UP with Link, who told her about Zelda, and that he traded her his canteen for a kiss. This angers Zelda, and Alma gives her the canteen.

In the ending, Lady Alma is brought back to Hyrule Castle along with Duke Onkled, likely since she was the last person to see Link. Zelda loudly wonders about what happened to Link, and Alma brushes it off and calls Link a bore. It's almost as if Zelda KNEW about Link in the mirror...

Zelda then grabs and throws Alma's mirror, causing it to shatter. This, in turn, frees Link! He spins around and says "What happened?". Zelda says that nothing happened - a lie - and declares a feast, which Link reacts positively to. Laughter ensues. What is it with this game and having a 'hungry' Link?

The rest is rather long, so I’ll put it under a cut. 

PART 2 - Other Facts

Here’s some unorganized facts and thoughts relevant to the theory, some of which come from The Faces of Evil. Let's plow through them.

King Harkinian takes the Triforce of Courage with him on his trip to Gamelon; the piece that Link owns throughout the series.

During the scene where Zelda says "Link, go to Gamelon and find my father.", she makes a face that, if it could talk, would say "I just know he's going to mess this up." He does.

Doesn't Link come off as a ditz to you? I'm not saying he's dumb, but he definitely seems like a person that could be easily fooled and/or tends to under/overestimate something.

Faces and Wand share similar bosses with each other, whether through design or role. Two great examples are Militron and Iron Knuckle, as well as Lupay and Omfak. For this theory, we're focusing on Goronu and Wizzrobe. They are both hooded mages with sickly, pale skin - possibly undead - living in a tower near a body of water. In addition, they both disintegrate when killed, whether through fire or reflected spells. But you could also make a match between Goronu and Gibdo - they're both necromancers who want to use the undead to torment the living. Gibdo also dies by disintegration.

Why did I bring this up? Because Goronu has a second power that Gibdo doesn't have! In Goronu's Fortress Centrum cutscene, he jumps Link by disguising himself as Zelda. Now you could say that Omfak was given the transformation powers, but the only part of Omfak that transforms is his head, and even then, the forms are limited to a lion and the Dairy Queen lips. It's more likely that Wizzrobe was given Goronu's second ability. I'll explain why Wizzrobe doesn't use them in his cutscenes later.

Speaking of Wizzrobe, his intro shows Lady Alma making fun of him. This results in him trapping Alma in a summoned landslide (?), so it's unlikely that Alma was working with Ganon/Wizzrobe. In addition, all of Impa's Triforce visions are shown to have taken place in the (recent) past.

To add on to this, when Lord Kiro/Fari is freed, he specifies that Duke Onkled betrayed the King. Note that he doesn't say "Duke Onkled betrayed Link and the King", which implies that the Duke and Ganon weren't directly responsible for Link's disappearance.

In Faces, Link is shown to act negatively arounds flirty women. Link acts quite anxious around Alora, and wipes off her smooch. In addition, he tries to break free of a hug given to him by Kulvan's daughter. Despite this, he did the kiss-canteen thing with Alma, and she seems to act like a flirt in the cutscenes she's in. Strange.

Finally, note the pose that Link is in when he's freed from Alma's mirror. He's slightly bent over, facing away from the camera, with his hands near his... 'stuff'. Almost like he's trying to whip it out.

PART 3 - Mundy's Theory

Okay, with all of these facts in mind, let's get to the theory. This is what I think happened on Gamelon that resulted in Link's mirror imprisonment. You ready? It’s a fucking long one.

Harkinian sails off to Gamelon to aid Duke Onkled, the leader of the island nation, and stop Ganon's invasion. He takes the Triforce of Courage with him, and tells Zelda to send Link if he goes missing for a month. Once the King reaches Gamelon, he is betrayed by Onkled and captured by Ganon. Why didn't the Triforce of Courage help him overcome the two? Because the Triforce of Courage is rightfully Link's piece of the Triforce, and won't function if somebody else uses it. Although it was done in good faith, Harkinian taking the Triforce Piece screws both him and Link over, the latter of which I’ll discuss later.

Despite all of this happening, the Royal Family do not know about the King's capture. Zelda is worried, but the other members are optimistic, especially Link. Considering that Link owns the Triforce of Courage, he probably believes that by giving the King the piece, he could easily overcome Ganon like Link did in Faces. Zelda follows up on the King's orders by sending Link to Gamelon. Once he gets there, Link ends up getting massively sidetracked due to his skewed priorities. This is foreshadowed by his last line in the intro; Zelda tells him to find her father - the King of bloody Hyrule! - and Link responds that he can't wait to bomb some Dodongos.

At some point during his procrastination quest, but before Tykogi Tower's prisoners were captured, Link might have met up with Harbanno and ate a bunch of his baked goods. More importantly, though, Link met up with the alpha bitch herself, Lady Alma, who is a noble of the island. He's attracted to her, and after a while, gets a kiss in exchange for his canteen. But Link doesn't like flirty women - remember those scenes in Faces? Why is he so horny all of a sudden?

It's actually quite simple to explain. First, let's talk about what caused the increase in the #CDiLinkHornyLevel. I believe it involved Zelda in some way, as Link is only flirty to her in Faces of Evil; he's distant to her in Wand. Something must have happened between the two games involving Zelda and Link's relationship. Something that resulted in Link giving away one of his important tools in exchange for a kiss from Alma. Wait a minute... wasn't Link clamoring for a kiss from Zelda in Faces?! The closest he got to a kiss was in the ending, and even then, Gwonam interrupted them!

With that question solved, we can get to the other half of this conundrum - how is this thirst shown in The Wand of Gamelon? The solution ain't rocket science, actually; it's been foreshadowed in the game's story as Link's hunger! Link is often shown to be comically gluttonous in Wand, eating loaves of bread, reacting positively to a big feast, and wanting to eat an Octorok. There's nothing of the sort in Faces! Hunger is used as a nudge nudge, wink wink metaphor to the audience, and everybody who played the games didn’t get it. As the Beach Boys would put it...

The funny thing is that I think Zelda knows about this. I don’t know how she would find out, but I think Zelda had the thought in her mind after Link's failed flirting suddenly stopped. This, combined with Link's skewed priorities, might have resulted in Zelda's side-glare in the intro. She only had her suspicions confirmed when Impa and her went to Gamelon.

Okay, enough of that. Back to the events of Wand of Gamelon. Sometime after Link and Alma kiss, Wizzrobe kidnaps Lady Alma and takes her to Shutoy Lake. She isn't scared of him, which results in him trapping her in the landslide. Using his transformation powers, which he shares with Goronu, he becomes an exact copy of Alma, down to using items belonging to her. Like her mirror. Wizzrobe eventually meets up with Link again, where after even more talking, seduces the thirsty Link. He's 100% cool with it, and they eventually decide to get busy, if you know what I mean.

Before this could happen, though, Wizzrobe sheds his disguise and hits the confused Link with a magic spell that traps him in the mirror. This explains why Link is so confused when freed, as well as his ready-for-sex position - he wasn't expecting Alma to actually be Wizzrobe, and might not have been able to process what happened while trapped! To add on to this, if Link had kept the Triforce of Courage with him, it might have been able to protect him from the spell, allowing him to flee from Wizzrobe. Hell, you might say that Link was able to save Koridai due to him holding the Triforce of Courage, but that a theory for another time.

Due to the attack's suddenness, Impa's Triforce of Wisdom vision can't tell what happened to Link in the 'terrible fight'... because there wasn't even one to begin with. (A quick note - you might say that using that logic, Impa couldn't see the future because Zelda owns the Triforce of Wisdom. Not necessarily. Every Wisdom vision has Zelda right next to Impa, which might allow the Triforce piece to work as intended. It was the distance between the King/Courage and Link that was the issue.)

Eventually, Zelda and Impa head over to Gamelon, where the plot of Wand happens. Sometime after (or even during) her odd encounter with Lady Alma, Zelda finally pieces together what happened to Link. But how could Zelda know about Wizzrobe's seduction of Link? Here's the twist - she doesn't. Zelda thinks that Alma trapped Link in the mirror, when in fact, it was Wizzrobe who did it! Nobody knows this - not even Link - except for Wizzrobe. Who is dead.

In the end, Zelda brings Lady Alma to the castle, where she smashes the mirror and reveals her dark 'secret' in front of everyone. Even though Alma did nothing wrong all along. And you know what the real kicker is? Link being trapped in the mirror was foreshadowed in The Faces of Evil. 

In the cutscenes with Ice Queen Suprena, she sees Link through her hand-mirror, and tells him about Koridai's Treasure of Death. A magic mirror, to be exact, as it shows an image of where the Treasure of Death is hidden. It's in Fortress Centrum... the place where Goronu is in disguise as Zelda. And, guess what? The item that's made from the Treasure is the Reflecting Shield. It can be found in The Wand of Gamelon, and is used to fight and defeat Wizzrobe. 

(I kept this hidden from the Other Facts section as I wanted to have a plot-twist at the end of my theory.)

Lastly, there's the question of why Animagic didn't show this in the game. You could chalk it up to bad writing or lack of funds/time. With this theory, though, it's very obvious. The Legend of Zelda is owned by Nintendo, which maintains a family friendly image. Why would you have a cutscene implying that Link banged someone?

----

I know this theory sounds absolutely batshit, but I think it's the ONLY good answer to Link's mirror shenanigans. If you managed to stick to the end, thanks for listening to my TED Talk! Hope to see you again soon!

[taz-writes]

Feilan: Chapter 1 Excerpt

Since Feilan’s been getting a decent amount of attention lately, I figured it was time to post another excerpt! This is from the unfinished third draft of book 1, which is waiting patiently for my return once I’m done with the rough version of 4. 

I’ve sadly lost my list of people who asked to be tagged in fairy stuff, so if you were one of those people, please do let me know... I am tagging @jade-island-lives for encouraging me to post this, though. Also @pumapauus @stellarscribe @maplemoose because you guys cannot hide from me forever, you’ll have to read my books eventually, if need be I will wait until I meet up with yall IRL and physically hit you with my printed manuscripts. 

Without further ado, I present: the first half of chapter 1! 

1: Sayara

My favorite part of the Tsi Palace was always the library—it was a treasure trove of ancient knowledge and secrets, what’s not to love? When I was little, I’d spend hours in there, roaming through towering stacks of books and skipping between the columns of rainbow light that crept in through the stained-glass windows. No matter how chaotic the rest of the building was, being the center of the capitol of one of the largest tribes in Feilan and all, the library was always beautifully serene.

The serenity evaporated when I sprinted straight through the grand double doors at full tilt, skidding to a dusty halt just past the attendant’s desk. It was beautiful, incredible, until my foot went flying out from under me. I slammed butt-first into the fancy Cydre rug, slid, and plowed directly into the legs of the library attendant.

“Sayara?!” he exclaimed, catching himself on the corner of the desk as I dragged myself onto my feet and wheezed.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I—”

“Good. All according to plan,” I gasped, clutching at a stitch in my side. “Nobody knows I’m here. And say hi to your brother for me!!” He rolled his eyes and straightened his jacket.

“Try not to knock over any students today.”

“Good chat, gotta go!!” I brushed library dust off of my scuffed-up breeches, before making a mad dash into the stacks.

“Sayara! I mean it, young lady, get back here!!” My governess’s strident voice rang through the atrium, and I sped up, holding back peals of lunatic laughter and jumping onto the nearest ladder.

The ceilings in here were high, but not quite high enough for proper flight, probably to discourage people like me from practicing their barrel rolls through the stacks. Once I reached the top of the ladder, I scrambled on top of the nearest shelf, but then I was stuck. I’d have to wait for one of the drifter cases to float by, or just crawl. I could see the governess now—Lady Brennadine loved manners, until it was time to chase me through the palace, at which point she abandoned them completely in favor of clenched fists and shouting.

I hesitated. I could jump, but I was too much of a klutz to land well. If I ran, I’d hit my head and fall, and then I’d crash into the academy students and I really didn’t want to hurt anybody. I was more agile than Brennadine, probably, since I was younger and smaller and I worked out sometimes instead of sitting around being mean to children, and I didn’t want to get in trouble but I could keep going, but…well, she was up the ladder.

“Down. Now.” Brennadine snapped her fingers, and I tried to crawl away along the top of the shelf, but my shoelace got snagged on a corner. I didn’t feel the resistance until I’d already stumbled and yanked myself over the side of the shelf.

I yelped, scrabbling at the books to catch myself, and knocked an entire row of encyclopedias away with me.

Brennadine’s hand came out of nowhere, and I grabbed on for dear life, and then everything stopped around me.

“How many times have we talked about this, again?” she reprimanded, clearly short of breath. Her eyes gleamed with magic. I would’ve shrugged, but I was too busy clinging to her unbelievably sweaty arm. “We—do not—climb—on top of the stacks.”

“Sorry,” I mumbled, swinging my legs towards the shelf. I missed, kicking over more books, but there was a solid surface to land on when I swung back.

“She saw you enter,” the library attendant said, plucking a floating book out of the air and settling it back into place. “Oh, and Daevin says thanks. I hope you weren’t helping him cheat again.”

“It’s not cheating, it’s entrepreneurial studying.” I climbed down to ground level, firmly avoiding eye contact with Brennadine as she reassembled the library in a mist of teal-green telekinesis. She wouldn’t look at me, either.

If she wasn’t looking at me, then I had an opportunity, and I definitely wanted to get out of whatever stupid thing she wanted to waste my day off on. I took a few slow steps backwards, testing for a reaction. Nobody moved, so I backed away further. When I hit the next shelf, I broke into a run.

A stray book swung into the backs of my knees, tripping me. “Don’t,” Brennadine growled, replacing the book with a flick of her wrist. The library assistant had taken over the task of sorting through everything I’d knocked over. I laughed nervously.

“Sorry, but I think I need to study for that geometry test yesterday, since you told me to, so I’ll just—”

“Sayara.” Brennadine laid a hand on my shoulder, and I grimaced. “You need to behave with more grace.”

“I’ve got grace!”

“Is that so?” Brennadine raised her eyebrows, throwing a glance back towards the wreckage of the bookshelves.

“Well, unlike you, at least I wore pants today.”

“What? I’m wearing—SAYARA!!” Brennadine let go of me for an instant, checking her trousers, and I made a break for the exit. The doors slammed shut in front of me.

“Quiet in the library,” the attendant remarked from the stacks.

“Whatever you think I did, I didn’t!” I leaned up against the doors, swallowing reflexive, manic laughter. Brennadine pinched the bridge of her nose, visibly exhausted.

“This isn’t an accusation,” she said wearily. “This has nothing to do with whatever half-baked scheme you’ve worked out with the kitchen maids’ children.”

“Do you have a problem with the maids’ kids?” I asked. “Because they’re fun. More fun than anyone Hope talks to, and they know a lot, too--”

“Your sister is making social connections for the sake of her future career and kingdom. You should try it.”

I cleared my throat. “What do you want? It’s my day off, I don’t have any tutoring today.”

“Your father wants you to accompany him this afternoon,” Brennadine said, grimacing and preening her fingernails.

“Isn’t he busy?”

“Yes, Sayara, and he’s decided at far too late a moment that he wants you to accompany himself and your sister. Really, something so spur-of-the-moment—”

“What? Accompany him for what?”

“We’re disturbing the library,” Brennadine huffed, grabbing me by the arm and pulling me out into the corridor. “Sayara. Today is Kyvesse 14.”

“…Yes?”

“Sayara, have you been neglecting your politics lessons? You told me you had a passion for this, are you going to prove yourself wrong?”

“Why do you only use my name when you’re lecturing me?”

“You should know what’s going on this afternoon.”

“Um….” I was drawing a total blank. “There’s a…thing?” Brennadine stopped in her tracks, and I walked into her by accident, stumbling. “What?”

Brennadine didn’t answer. Instead, she leaned heavily against the wall, her head thumping against the wallpaper.

“There’s a thing. A thing.”

“Well, there is,” I confirmed, wracking my brains for any memory of whatever had Brennadine so worked up. She sucked in a long, nasal breath, and then exploded.

“The Convention of Tribes! Today is the Convention of Tribes, and your father, the Tsi King, is extending you a spur-of-the-moment invitation! A thing, this is only the most important national political event of the year—no one would normally dream of bringing their children of questionable origins along, but you’re going to be an exception. It’s fairly important!”

“Wait, you want me to come to the Convention??” I blurted out, a little too loud. “But that’s…”

“Ridiculously last-minute and ill-advised and going to threaten the fabric of the entire situation, yes. Four’s sake, child...”

“…I was going to say soon. Doesn’t it always start at noon?” I didn’t know exactly what time it was, but it sure wasn’t early, and the site of the Convention was a few hours away.

“I’ve been chasing you through the castle for two hours!” Brennadine said.

“I’ve only been running for a few minutes, though.”

“I want you dressed in your best suit and ready to leave in twenty minutes. Go.”

“But that’s barely any time at all!”

“You would’ve had more, if you’d listened to me instead of running off on a grand chase through the castle all morning,” Brennadine snapped. “Go.”

[siverwrites]

Dangerous Games Ch.1

First part of my potential draft of Dangerous Games. Something in order, gasp!

Just a WIP draft so I stop going over it again and again and keep going with the stuff continuing off it. If my ultimate plan goes through once I have enough I’ll start posting cohesively to AO3, but I’m still in things may change mode and will I even be able to actually finish - why did this take over so much. 

Still not satisfied with a start. Multiple attempts later!

All related things tagged Dangerous Games

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

It had been a productive and satisfying day. Cabanela lounged in his sofa in a rare moment of peace and quiet. It would only be a short while as he would leave soon to spend a lovely evening in the company of Jowd and Alma for Alma’s Birthday. That ever rare peaceful moment seemed doomed to remain such when his phone rang shattering the silence.

Cabanela fetched his phone with gusto and the vague thought that maybe he would rescind his threat to chew out the next salesman trying to sell him useless rubbish in light of his good mood. He leaned casually against his wall.

“Hellooo, Cabanela here.”

“Detective Cabanela, this is Byrde.” Cabanela stiffened from his casual lean at the urgency in Byrde’s voice. “The Chief needs you back at the station. His office ASAP.”

“What happened?”

She sounded nervous. “There’s been an incident. It’s better if you just get down here. I’m sorry.”

“I’m on my way.”

Cabanela’s gaze slid over the tidily wrapped present on the end of his table as he dialled Jowd’s number. Unfortunately their evening was looking to be delayed. Hopefully it was nothing that wouldn’t take him too long to sort out though he was going to be late regardless.

The line rang and rang. He frowned at the phone. Jowd and Alma would long be home. He finally gave up, telling himself they only stepped out. This timing meant nothing. Everything was fine.

When Cabanela entered the station he hurried to Chief Gant’s office, but his haste wasn’t enough to prevent him noticing the tension in the air or the hushed voices. He knocked at Gant’s door, harder than he intended, and Gant’s voice summoned him inside.

Gant sat at his desk with a grave expression. He gestured at the chair in front.

“You’d better sit down, detective.”

“What’s goin’ on, Chief?”

“There’s no point in mincing words. Detective Jowd has turned himself in for murder.”

Silence fell over the office as Cabanela tried to absorb and process the ridiculous words.

“With all duuue respect, not a funny joke.” he finally said.

“I wish it were. Alma was shot in their home - fatally I’m afraid.” Gant sighed. “A sorry day for this station losing both of them like this. Jowd claims he did it.”

Cabanela stared at him blankly. Shot. Alma dead. Jowd… shot her?

“She…” Not that. One thing at a time. Counter the absurd impossibility before the simple one. “I don’t know what’s goin’ on here or what Jowd’s playing at,” Cabanela said, “but he didn’t. He wouldn’t.” She was… dead?

“The scene is being investigated. I’m afraid it doesn’t look good.”

A sense of unreality crept in. Part of him wanted to laugh. She couldn’t be dead and Jowd shooting her? Jowd? How could anyone take that seriously?

“I’m sorry, my boy,” Gant said. “I know this is harder on you than any of us, however I must ask you some questions. We’ll keep it private here.” He stood. “I’ll give you a few minutes first.”

Cabanela was only vaguely aware of Gant leaving and the click of his door. He stared at the desk without seeing it. She couldn’t be dead. She couldn’t be. He was going to see them tonight. He wanted to leave now, head straight for the detention centre. There had to be some kind of mistake. He needed to talk to Jowd. Everything would be clearer. It was a joke. A cruel and stupid joke.

She could not be dead. He could not have shot her. They didn’t answer. Wrong, wrong, wrong.

A pat on the shoulder and the clink of a teacup on the desk startled him out of his daze. Gant circled back around to his seat.

“How has Jowd been lately?”

It took him a moment to comprehend the question enough to pull an answer together.

“Normal. No…” No… that wasn’t quite right. There had been something on his mind. Cabanela hadn’t been able to wheedle it out of him yet. He and Alma had been keeping hush about something… yes, something was brewing between them.

“No?” Gant prompted.

“Normal enough,” Cabanela repeated. “But there was something bothering him. Don’t know what it was. He and Alma…”

“Were they fighting?”

Cabanela shook his head and had to bite back his irritation. As if fighting would mean anything in the face of this, as if that would be enough to... “Nothing like that.”

“Did he tell you anything?”

“No.”

“And Alma? Anything you’ve noticed?”

“Nothing more than I already said. Otherwise they were fine… happy. We had plans tonight. Her birthday…” He stopped before he started rambling or worse. He should be there. They should be there.

“Can you think of any reason Jowd might do this?” Gant’s eyes bore into him.

“He didn’t. Jowd would never…” Gods help him, it took every ounce of control he had to finish the sentence. “…shoot Alma.

Gant’s expression softened. “I know this is difficult to believe. I don’t want to believe it myself! However, he admitted to it. We have a bullet matching his gun and only his fingerprints.”

“There’s something else. That’s not what happened.” Cabanela leaned forward. “Give me the case. I know him. I know their place.”

“I’m afraid there may not be much of a case. This looks to be one of the easier trials the courts will have to handle.”

Cabanela’s chair flew back as he jumped to his feet. He slammed a hand on the desk, knocking the teacup over. “No! He didn’t do it. It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Now, now.” Gant waved a placating hand. “I know you’re distraught, and you have every right to be, but this just shows me that you’re too close. Sit down, Detective.”

Cabanela stared at the spreading puddle of tea and tried to force back images of Alma… bleeding out…

He pulled the chair back, suddenly feeling unsteady and dropped into it. “Please, let me talk to him. Let me look into this.”

Gant said nothing while surveying him with an unreadable expression. They remained watching each other in silence until Gant finally spoke.

“Very well. I’ll give you three days to conduct an investigation of your own, starting the day after tomorrow once our team has cleared out. However, once those three days are up, that’s it. I need you back on your regular case load. Understood?”

“Perfectly.” That should be more than enough. Obviously some huge mistake had been made. He rose to his feet.

Another thought hit Cabanela that nearly knocked him back into his chair. How could he have nearly forgotten?

“Kamila! Their daughter. What’s happened to her?”

“She’s under the care of a family friend, Lynne.”

An inward sigh of relief. Lynne had a good head. She’d be fine there. As fine as was even possible under the circumstances…

“I am sorry my boy,” Gant added with a shake of his head. “This is a dark day for us all, but you were closest to them. If there’s anything you need you just let me know, all right?”

“Yes, Chief.”

Gant pulled out a cloth and started mopping up the tea. “You go on home now,” he said. He glanced up from his cleaning. “And, do take care of yourself!”

Cabanela couldn’t recall a time he ever felt so heavy when he finally entered his flat. Heavy, while his mind raced in circles over his talk with Gant, over Jowd and Alma, over his attempt to visit Jowd before leaving… damnit. No amount of furious demands let him in to see him. Well, if Jowd didn’t want to talk as friends, he still had his investigation to look forward to. They would talk one way or another.

He drifted over to his couch and his eyes fell on the gift still sitting on the table. He swallowed hard. How? How did this happen? She was dead. He was… under threat? Lost his mind in the brief span of a few hours? Wrong, all wrong.

He shuddered. While he sat relaxing here, she was being killed. He wrenched his gaze away from the gift and retreated to his kitchen. Get a drink, calm down. That was his intent. Instead he found himself gripping the counter.

Tomorrow… tomorrow he would see Lynne and Kamila. He could hardly question the young girl, though she might have something she could tell him. Maybe he could also look into Jowd’s files. If there was something in his last case, if there was something he missed… it didn’t have to be official yet.

Several hours of the night slogged by in endless pacing, attempts at sitting only to furiously fling himself back into wearing ruts into his carpet while his thoughts whirled, alternating between reasons that would cause Jowd to do this, careful avoidance of Alma’s absence and a hollow disbelief that this was happening at all.

He eventually eked out a few restless hours of fitful dozing on his couch and rose early in the morning with a plan laid out for the day. Leave early, stop by and see Lynne and Kamila before work. Plow through as much as he could, keep an ear and eye on the investigations, work out his plan of attack for the next three days. They would face the rest together after Jowd was out.  

“Detective Cabanela!” Lynne peered at him in surprise from her door.

“Hey baby. Thought I’d stooop by, check on you both.”

Lynne managed a wan smile. “Thanks. Come in.” She opened the door wider and nodded in the direction of her couch. “Kamila’s awake already… still…”  

Kamila sat on one end of the couch, her hands clenched in her lap and her head bowed.

He approached and took a seat beside her. “Hey there kiddo.”

“Cabanela…” Kamila’s lip quivered before she flung herself at him burying her face in his chest. “It’s a nightmare and it won’t stop. Stop it stop it stop it.” She dissolved into a sob.

Cabanela wrapped an arm around her and exchanged a look with Lynne.  She gave him a helpless sort of half shrug with a mixture of sadness and sympathy. The room felt heavy with the feelings.

Kamila eventually pulled back, sniffling. Cabanela soundlessly retrieved a handkerchief from his coat and passed it to her.

“I’m scared,” Kamila whimpered. “Mom… I want mom. I want dad.”

“Kamila, look at me.”

She stared up at him with wide and reddened eyes. More tears threatened to spill out. He held her shoulder in a firm and what he hoped reassuring hold.

“I will get your dad back, but I need you to help me a little here. Can you tell me what happened?”

Kamila twisted the handkerchief. “B-bad dream, it was like a bad dream. Mom…” she squeezed her eyes shut. “Dad said he’d take care of it and now he’s…” she choked and started to cry again. “He’s gone too…”

Even as Cabanela started to speak the words he knew it was a mistake, but he needed answers. A clue. Anything.

“Did you see what happened to her?”

Kamila let out a loud sob. She shook her head wildly, jumped to her feet and ran out of the room.

“Kamila!” Cabanela and Lynne both called.

He sagged back into the couch as Lynne hurried after Kamila. Cabanela stared down the hall. Stupid mistake, but what did her reaction mean? Was it merely too much too soon? Had she seen something that was too much for her to say? Was there enough for the young girl to have even made sense of any of it?

How much sense was there in this mess?

Lynne returned shortly, shaking her head.

“Leave her alone for now I guess…” she said softly while still glancing back down the hall. “She hasn’t said anything more than what she just did.”

She approached Cabanela, her worry and nerves clear in her expression and clasped hands.

“Is it really true?” she asked. “Do they really think he did it?”

“So the evidence claims.” As if that meant anything. So he claimed and that meant just as little.

“He said… when he came to ask me to take care of Kamila he said he was turning himself in.” She shook her head. “But, there’s no way.” Her hands flew apart in a furious gesture. “There’s no way! Detective Jowd would never do that!” She wiped her eyes. “He wouldn’t…”

Smart girl.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“Baby, I wish I knew, but I intend to find out.” Cabanela unfolded himself off the couch. “I have to go. Take care of her. Give me a buzz if you need anything.”

“I will, thank you.”

 It wasn’t until Cabanela entered the station that the reality of the situation started to sink in in the absence of Jowd and Alma’s greetings. The tension in the air had faded compared to the previous evening, but was still palpable. One of their own dead and the other arrested…

Cabanela made a beeline for his desk while avoiding the gazes of the rest of the officers but kept his ears open.

He tried to focus on his report. As long as he could focus on his work he didn’t have to think of them. As long as he could get everything done he would leave himself with plenty of time to focus on Jowd’s case. All easier said than done while listening to the snatches of conversation around him.

“Detective Jowd, man I can’t believe it. There’s gotta be a mistake right?”

“I have to get this down to the evidence room. Just… can’t believe she’s gone, you know?”

Focus.

“Detective Jowd really did it?”

“Dunno but sure looks that way from what I heard.”

“No way. He was the best!”

“Hey you never know what people are really like.”

Focus…

“Yeah but Jowd? And she was his wife!”

“Sure and how much crap have we seen between couples? I’m just sayin’ maybe there was something nastier than we knew. Wouldn’t be the first time.” The cop took on a higher pitched voice. “But he was always good to me! He’d never do it!”

The scraping of Cabanela’s chair being pushed back wasn’t loud, but it cut through the chatter creating a suddenly awkward and tense silence.

“Coffee,” Cabanela said simply by way of explanation. His gaze fixed on the pair of gossiping cops. One more word, I daaare you.

The pair shifted and the loudmouth shrugged. “I gotta get moving,” he muttered.

Right.

Cabanela swept away. Another coffee would be good and a moment to quell the urge to punch someone. A few days, just a few days.

[sj4iy]

Translation: Noragami Chapter 73 Summary (SPOILERS)

So, here is the REALLY REALLY long translation summary…I would have shortened it, but there is just so much story in this one that it was pretty hard to do that.  Don’t mind the typos or mistakes, I’m staying up way to late to write this and I’m sure as I read it tomorrow, I will catch them.  So, here it is:

The color pages says “It would be nice to be able to become the person I want to be”.  The name of the chapter is “If You Can Hear My Screams”.  The days have returned to normal (Yato is making a string of dried persimmons while Yukine studies with Hiyori), but Hiyori says that one thing still worries her…Yukine’s outburst about his father.  She is certain that it has to do with the god’s secret, and says that’s why Yato is by Yukine’s side constantly.  Yato is refusing to take calls, claiming that he’s still too injured, but Yukine says “Did you forget that you’re a delivery god!?”  Yukine convinces him to take the latest call by saying that Hiyori will offer him Capypa Inari, and Yato says “…what’s that?  I want it!  I want a lot of them!” Yato takes the call, only to find that Ebisu has been abducted.  He says his captors want 1 billion yen…the funny thing is that Ebisu is actually very casual about all of this while his captors are yelling “We’ll kill the kid if you don’t comply!”  Yato obviously goes to find Kunimi, who had no idea that his master has been kidnapped because he had been asleep when Ebisu called.  Yato says “But you got a lot of vacation for your part in the ukei, right?” but all Kunimi got was a ticket to allow him to sleep in late.

Just then Ebisu calls back.  The kidnappers and Yato start going back and forth about the ransom, but when they start making threats, Yato says “If you lay a hand on Ebisu” before Kunimi takes the phone.  He tells him that he’ll save him, but that he wants three months of vacation for everyone.  Ebisu says “You have perfect timing, to be so bold. Well done.”  Ebisu and Kunimi start negotiating, and Yato is completely dumbfounded by this, of course.  But Ebisu says it was getting kind of boring because he always has the upper hand…he would tell Kunimi that if he wanted to negotiate vacation, he needed to stand up to him.  Kunimi apologizes for not being more like him.  Ebisu does not screw around with negotiations…he is like “I want you to come and get me.  It’s not like I don’t want to die…a knife isn’t enough to kill me, but on the slim chance it did, I would just reincarnate.  So I have all of the initiative.”  Kunimi gets concerned about this and eventually Yato takes the phone away but they hang up on him.  Yukine asks him why he didn’t just go there during the call (and calls him ‘Mr. Careless’), and Hiyori says she will go look.  Kunimi gets upset because Ebisu said “It’s not as if I don’t want to die” because it seems like he’s back to his old self.  Yato says “He thought you had abandoned him, why would you say such a thing!?” and Kunimi explains that there is a severe labor shortage there, and that no one is getting any time off at all because of it.  He says the strays who were left after the heavens executed most of the group were scared to come forward about it and that at this rate, they would end up stinging Ebisu because of the stress.  “For those of us that no one will have, he was a good host”…” Kunimi says.  Yato then says “Don’t tell me…you’re a Nora, as well?” Yato asks him how he could say such a thing to Ebisu while he’s helpless, and Kunimi gets angry and says “Without me, Ebisu couldn’t have gone to Yomi or volunteered for the ukei! …but if it had been Iwami instead of me, neither the master or any of his previous incarnations would have taken those bets.”  (IE: Kunimi is implying that Iwami means more to Ebisu than he does)  Meanwhile, the kidnappers are trying to get information about Ebisu’s bank accounts.

Kunimi says that he was first given a name 200 years previous, and his master was a doll toy born out of a child’s love of play.  But the child grew up and forgot about him.  While he still had a name, his master disappeared, and when he went to find a new master, he couldn’t because he would be a Nora (we see Takemikazuchi refuse him, the hypocrite).  But Ebisu welcomed Noras, and he met him at a tryout.  Shinki who could draw a line passed, those who couldn’t failed.  When Ebisu made him his shinki, he tied Ebisu’s shoe for him…then starts jumping around and tossing people to the ground, thinking “This is my chance to show him what I can do!”  Iwami points out how rare it was to have that kind of shinki, and asks if he will make him his attendant.  But Ebisu says no, he will only use him for borderlines.  We see days, weeks and months pass of Kunimi just drawing a line.  As time passed, Ebisu reincarnated.  Ebisu is upset that he can’t ride a bike when he passes Kunimi.  He calls to Kunimi and as they are riding, he asks him if he can ride a bamboo horse and ski.  He then asks him if swimming is his specialty and then purposely falls into the water.  Kunimi asks him why he suddenly did that and Ebisu says he wanted to test him, and that he had a lot of skills other than tying shoes.  Kunimi says that it’s not as if he can do everything, and asks him to not do something so dangerous again.  Ebisu says that it’s not really risky, since he’s not truly alive, but then asks him not to tell Iwami he said that.  “He doesn’t want to think about the Ebisu who plays at suicide.”  Ebisu then asks Kunimi “What’s that face for?  You look dumb.”  Kunimi says that he became important because Ebisu was a child who liked to trouble the adults, but that he saw through his act.

We then see Ebisu at a gathering outside in winter for New Year’s.  And then…Nora shows up.  She introduces herself as Tsutsumi, and Kunimi says “oh, you’re new here.  It’s rare that Ebisu employs someone so young.”  She asks Kunimi “Excuse me, but is it true that Lord Ebisu is taming ayakashi…?” Kunimi laughs and says “Of course not!  If he did that, they would be stinging him right now.”  Nora says “That’s true…but doesn’t he reincarnate very often?  Why does his exemplar Iwami allow that to happen?  Poor Lord Ebisu…”  Kunimi asks “Why?  It’s fine as long as he can reincarnate, right?”  During this conversation, we see Ebisu suffering from blight.  Kunimi says that there had been new skis in his master’s room, but the next master had not interest in skiing.  Death means the loss of everything…memories, body, etc…except Iwami.  He is a vessel that stores all of Ebisu’s memories and plans.  He’s also the head of the family.  It was only natural that Iwami was the exemplar.  Kunimi says that a personal attendant like him is insufficient.  Yukine asks Kunimi if he is jealous of Iwami, and he says no, he wants to trade places with him because it’s too much responsibility on his shoulders.

Yato gets very angry and hits him (he yells “you dumbass!  this is no time to chatter on!” while Yukine says “It was your carelessness in the first place!” and thinks “He’s very shrewd at putting the blame on others”).  He tells him that the being stung or harmed by jealousy wasn't the issue...but that it must be hard on his master because he won’t even get jealous over him.  Yato says “Little Ebi said it - ‘You have perfect timing to be so bold...' Right now Ebisu’s in trouble and he wants you to rescue him!”  Kunimi has a revelation and Hiyori calls Yato to tell him that she’s found Ebisu and to come quick.  We see Ebisu in the dark, surrounded by Ayakashi saying “money” “more money”.  Ebisu thinks “I can’t cry...my former self and all the ones previous were strong, so I can’t cry...”  Yato teleports and takes Kunimi with them.  Yato kills all of the ayakashi around the house they are keeping Ebisu in.  The people inside wonder who it is, and Yato puts his finger to his lips to tell Hiyori to be quiet.  Kunimi realizes that he can’t replace Iwami, but he can stick to Ebisu’s body.  Yato says “Old man Kunimi is going to make these guys into wall stains for you so we’ll just go over here” as Kunimi plows through the kidnappers.  Afterwards, Ebisu agrees to give him vacation once a month.  He also gives Yato a reward, asking him if he preferred coin or cash.  Of course, Yato says “Cash!”  Ebisu gives Yato 1500 chou (which is a trillion x 1500)…but it’s in zimbabwe dollars and only equals 5 yen.  Hiyori notes that their currency has been abolished, and Yukine notes that they could trying selling it on Yahoo auctions.

As Ebisu and Kunimi walk off together happily, Yato realizes that it’s dark out.  “Crap” he says, “I’m sorry it got so late.  Are you okay, Yukine?” and Yukine says “Yeah…you don’t have to treat me like a little kid, I’m alright…”  Yato then asks “…so, have you had any strange dreams?” and Yukine says “Dreams?  Yeaaaah…but it’s okay because I don’t remember them!” We then see a flashback of Yato’s face over Yukine’s dad’s face and Yukine says “They seem scary, but…when I look, there you are.”  He then says “and I relaxed because it was just a dream.”  Yato says “Is that right?  Well, then forget I said anything!”  Hiyori then thinks to herself “It seems that Yato also doesn’t want to touch upon the Gods’ Greatest Secret.  Will they have to face it someday…?”  It ends with her saying “But for now, I just want to watch over these two gentle souls.”

Well, I did NOT mean to write quite that much…but it’s an intricate story with a lot to it (and finding out more of Ebisu’s backstory with Yato’s dad is a big deal).  The next issue comes out 3/6/2017.  

My thoughts…well, looks like you don’t lose your name if your god stops existing. That seems unfair. Also, the way Yato cares about Yukine in the chapter is so sweet it’s almost heartbreaking, knowing that it can’t last. Before this he would do anything for wishes, but now he is doing anything he can to stay with Yukine. I wonder if Hiyori will ever bring up the fact that she knows about the gods’ greatest secret to Yato. Alright, that’s it for tonight, I’ll be back tomorrow with a final analysis.

NOTE: I’ve made a few corrections and added some more information after a second read-through.  Added a few more pieces of the comedy because there’s quite a lot of it in this chapter.

[strainingfororiginality]

Chapter 15 - Beauty

Inspiration: Alan Walker, Luke Christopher - Faded

So imma keep deep diving

Just to see where you hidin'

And if you aren't in the sea

I just wait until I dream

To see if i can find you...

Part 1

It was moderately cool before the sun came up, but once the penetrating rays hit the metal, the inside of the driver’s compartment had started to heat up quite a bit.  Quinlan’s own warmth was only adding to her discomfort and the sweat beaded up and trailed down her spotted forehead.  She had peeled his vest and jacket off but it did not ease the rising humidity levels.  Quinlan found himself increasingly distracted by it all.

He eventually relented to opening the hatch for air, but was uncomfortable with anyone sitting on the outside while they bounded along the side of the highway, tearing up the terrain in their tremendous wake.  The strigoi might not be a problem during the daylight hours, but as they had just learned, in this world, it was not just the minions that they needed to be concerned with anymore.

They had driven down the highway until the blockage of cars had been too compact to drive around.  This particular traffic jam went for miles and miles it seemed.  Whatever had happened, it had been quick and brutal as nearly every vehicle was splattered with blood, usually from the inside out.

The noise of the tank’s engine had made it difficult to hear or speak, but he tried regardless, allowing her to steer as he broke on her request.  They had ridden in almost complete silence for an hour now and he went over the various ways on how to breach the subject in his mind, playing out the responses, wishing to avoid as much embarrassment as possible.

“May we speak candidly?”  He eventually mustered the courage to start.

“About what?”  She returned.  Alright.  So far so good.  He gulped briefly, not really grasping why he should be so nervous about speaking with her.  They’d spoken many times, about many things … Right?

“I have had a number of dreams lately.”  Good, Quintus.  Good.  Right to the point.  Let us just get it out in the open and then we can discuss--

“Oh yeah?  What about?”  He knew he felt her heart rate jump suddenly.  He knew he felt her wince at the mention of it.  Though it was hard to read her emotions without seeing her face or even being allowed to witness some amount of body language.  Being crammed into this tiny space made both of those nearly impossible.

Quinlan immediately doubted his own sanity on the subject.  Was she being … coy or did she honestly not know?  The former was likely, she was a shy person.  The latter, given her immediate tensing when he mentioned it was highly unlikely.

“You and I.”  He pushed the subject along carefully as it was obvious the mere mention of it had put her comfort on edge.

“Oh?”  She was not making this easy.  “What were we doing?”  He considered just calling her out on the lie, but he maintained the game for now.  She was as nervous as he was, it seemed.

“Sometimes training.”  He liked those dreams and he smiled at their remembrance.  They always started with training, that is, usually some type of grappling lesson … he digressed though, “Sometimes ... other scenarios.”

“I’m sorry.”  That was put rather frankly.  The defeat that laced her voice was clear.

“Why should you be sorry?”

She made an effort to shrug, but gave up as her movement was mostly hindered, “I forced you to train me and then you had nightmares about it later.  That was shitty of me and I’m sorry.”

Rejecting her apology immediate, he sneered, “You have never forced me to do anything.  No one can force me to do anything.”  The last part wasn’t necessarily true anymore, was it?  Regardless, he had been cruel and callous to her about many things back at the house and he expected her confidence surrounding him and most things associated with it to be damaged.  He knew he had fucked up, quite a bit.  “And I never said nightmare.  There was never anything terrible about these dreams.”

“Ok.”  Her uncertainty was almost painful for him to hear.  She doubted nearly everything from his lips right now.

Hmmm … He began to also doubt suddenly.  Perhaps just the last *gulp* dream was shared then?

“Did you dream while you slept during those weeks?”

“I …”  He felt her consider her words and then he heard her lie, “I didn’t.”  Treachery was something he was so very good at detecting and he sighed, bringing his head forward and resting his chin calmly on her shoulder.

“Please do not be ashamed.”  If anyone should be bashful about this subject, it should be him.  In these dreams, he was always the one who had instigated … Always.  Wait, was that true?  

However, a curious thought came over him as he remembered the very first time he had dreamed vividly about her.  After he had crushed her heart on that last regrettable night in the house before everything went to shit.  When he had dreamed that she crept downstairs to him … and she had offered him intimacy.

Focus, Quintus.

“Why would I be ashamed of your dreams?”  Now he seemed to be making her defensive.  Why was he suddenly so terrible at controlling and navigating a simple conversation?

Enough.  “Because I believe they were shared.”  The last one, at the very least, which meant the Latin one as well, because of her knowledge of that word and compliance with his … erm … language lesson.

“Like shared dreaming?  That’s crazy talk, Mister--”

“It is not crazy.  You know--”  He interrupted her use of that damned name.  And why was she lying to him?!

“That’s CrAzY.”  She interrupted him back and he cringed as he hated when she put such strange emphasis on that word.

“So, you think me CrAzY then?”  He accused suddenly, mimicking her gracefully, “Or do you wish me to think that I am CrAzY?”  The last sentence was a strange one.  He would have phrased it a bit differently if he had a chance to think before plowing into that sentence.

“People don’t share dreams ... that’s not possible.”

“I am not people and neither are you.”  This seemed to catch her off guard and silence melted over the discussion.  He was not sure where to go from here.  If she would not admit it, then they could not discuss it.  His own self confidence waned a bit as he wondered why she felt she had to lie.  Was she that ashamed of it?  Was she that disappointed in herself?  In him?  Or was it the affection?

“I will drop the subject.  We will not discuss it again until you wish.”  He offered her surrender and he was surprised when she spoke again.

“Why am I not people?”  It was a whisper and he would not have even heard it over the engines save for his heightened senses.  “What did you do to me?”

“I did not do anything to you.   I believe I undid something.”

“What does that mean?”  She tapped on his leg and he brought the machine to a slow halt.  Pushing the controls out of their way, she pulled her arm back, showing her wrist to him, “It’s gone.  Did you do this?”

“Yes.”  There had not been time to speak of this until now.

“What does that mean?”  She prodded.

“I do not know.”  His answer was utterly useless but honest and she looked more defeated now than he had ever seen her, “But I do know that you will not break anymore.  It was put there to diminish you.”

“Diminish what from me?”  This was not the place to discuss things of this sort.

“Power.”

“Who put it there?”

“I know not.”

“What did you do to me?”  She asked again staring off into nothing in particular and he gripped her wrist gently, covering the spot that once sported her mark.

“You were dying.  I had …”  He stuttered, “I had killed you.  It was necessary.”

“And this is why I’m not people anymore?”

“I did not do that.  Do you not understand?”  She was unpleased by his answers, but he continued, “You have never been people.  You know you have always been--”

“Different.”  Her tone was obviously negative.  Bizarre.  Strange.  Unusual.

“Unique.”  He corrected.  Exalted.  Special.  Rare.

“Did you know that?”

He cocked his head to the right as far as he could, “Know what?”

“That I was peculiar?  Is that why you saved me?”

“I was not going to let them hurt you again--”

“No, I mean the first time.  At the factory.  Is that why you didn’t let me die?  Did you know?”  Quinlan blinked, pondering the question and why it might be of importance to her.

“I did not know you were like this.  No.  This was not why I took you.”  He regretted the phrasing immediately, however correct it had been.  He had taken her, hadn’t he.  He had taken her and he had never given her back.

She made no effort to respond and he thought back to that day again, “You were extraordinary to me even then, but not in this sense.  It was more.”  Why was this so difficult for him to express verbally?

Should he tell her of the dragonfly?  Though it had affected him, it was far from the root reason.  But, was there even a root cause of any of it?  He had been struck by her ferocity, by her ingenuity, by her softness, by her kindness, by her … He could go on, but it was not any one specific thing and he rolled his head in frustration of it all as he usually had no trouble with words nor being succinct and direct in their execution.  Ever.  His mind swam with reasons, with curiosities … with beauties.

She had not spoken so he would try again, “It is not often that I meet someone with such fortitude of will that it causes me pause .. and you … “ He felt himself flushed from the mere thought of a confession and he was instantly thankful his blood was not red, or it would have been easy to see the color through his pale cheeks as the heat accumulated on them and his heart pounded savagely from within his chest.  “It is even rarer that I have ever required the help of anyone.  You … You saved my life … with no motive for doing so.”

“You said that was a flaw.  You lectu--”

“I was cruel with my words … you terrified me.”  He had been harsh with all of his words.  He would never make that mistake again.

She turned to face him fully now, and their faces were mere inches apart as she stared into his eyes with pure disbelief, scoffing, “I don’t think you are even capable of being scared, Mister Quinlan.”  She shook her head slightly before cocking it to the left and staring back blankly to the control console.

“I am capable of all emotions, though fear is a rare thing for me, indeed.”  He confessed to her frankly, baring a piece of his soul he’d refused to even see himself, “And … you terrify me still … but for different reasons now.”  His words caused her to shift uncomfortably atop him and he he reached up to her jaw, turning her face back to him as he stared down at her lips directly.  He sensed her notice his gaze as her heart rate jumped lightly.  His was still beating far faster.

“Because of what I am now?”

“No …”  He swallowed deeply, “ … because of how you see me.”  He still gripped her wrist and he pulled her hand to his chest, placing it palm down over the source of his raging pulse as he placed his palm over hers, “Because of how you’ve awoken me.”

This was no dream, there would be no waking … no teasing … no tormenting and he leaned in slowly as her heart rate bumped up again, brushing the tip of his nose across hers softly.  Sweat glistened on her body and he gazed at the beads that had begun to form on her upper lip as he spoke again, breathing on her.  Even if she had wanted to retreat from this, from him, there was nowhere to go.  But it mattered not as she made no effort to want to leave, to pull away.  She spoke no words, simply listening to his admission, needing it, letting it wash her self doubt away.

“Because of how much I need you.”  He crushed her hand against his chest harder as he leaned his mouth forwards and his body sang with electricity over the intensity of the moment.  This was not a dream, there would be nothing to stop--

“HEY!  WHY DID WE STOP!?”  Gus called out from above as he scrambled out of his hatch and Dawn jerked quickly away from him, pulling her hand always from his chest as she spun back around to face front.  The Boxer looked down into the hatch from above, “Everything ok?”

“Yes, Mr. Elizalde.  Everything is fine.  We were just taking a break.”  Quinlan could not mask the annoyance in his voice.

Dawn pulled the controls back across them, locking them into place and Gus nodded, “Sorry, it's just … everyone is hot and tired.  Do we know where we’re goin’ yet?”

“We will discuss it when we get to a junction.”  Quinlan sighed and the man went back into the bowels of the beast.

Humans.

Their progress was cut short suddenly as their path along the side of road abruptly hit a massive but dry river.  Dawn looked up through the hatch and mumbled something particularly vulgar before he pulled her back down onto his lap and asked her permission to take the controls.  He was actually surprised at her willing compliance.

“Go for it.”

“Perhaps I will.”  Quinlan was not sure where that came from but it was accompanied by a dirty thought, a twitch, and a rattle.  He was sure the heat was getting to him.  Perhaps.

She turned back to him at the twitch riddled rattle, as it happened just as she was sliding her body back down into position again.  “Are you ok?  Am I crushing you?!”  She suddenly worried at his noise and he chuckled lowly at it.

“No, do not worry.   You are not crushing me.”  No matter how much he might wish it, but he held in the next rattle before it escaped.

Focus, Quintus.  Drive the tank.

The heat in the compartment was stifling and he took the controls from her as he moved the beast of a machine back onto the road.

“The cars.”  She reminded him, thinking they would need to retreat and find another way across.

“Indeed.  They are quite small, aren’t they?”  Quinlan smiled and she gasped mildly as he drove over the first, crushing it completely underneath their 62 metric tons, squashing it nearly flat and he chuckled deeply.

“What if there are people in them!?”  She called back to him through the violent noise, entirely shocked at his seemingly uncaring action.

“I doubt it.  It would be a bad place to hide regardless.”  He was momentarily distracted as he turned to see the side of her face while he spoke, staring at the sweat that ran down the side of it.  He wondered how salty it likely was.

“You love this, don’t you?”

He could not help but smile at the action as well as her words, and he asked a similar question in return, “Do you not as well?”  He wasn’t sure how she would respond, but he knew how he wished her to respond and her giggle was confirmation enough.

Indeed.  Mmmmm.

Going over the cars was not exactly smooth and though he took the action very slowly, at one point, he heard Gus stick his head from his hatch within the belly of the beast to see what was causing the commotion.

“What da fuck is -- Holy shit.”  And then he pulled back into the vehicle, shutting his hatch and Quinlan chuckled.  He was actually quite worried about the bridge handling their weight, but he was hoping the fact that it was constructed to withstand four lanes of heavy traffic, they might be alright.  Once they were on the bridge fully, he stopped and listened for any creaking.

“Problem?”  She asked again.

“Apparently not.”  He merrily continued, crushing cars in their wake.  As he gained confidence, he increased speed and the turbulence in the vehicle increased substantially.

“Ooooof.”  He heard from her again.  This had apparently become her favorite saying of the day so far, but he continued and so did the jostling.  Their bodies slammed together as he mounted and subsequently crushed each vehicle in their way.  The noise was loud, but he realized he was enjoying it all quite a bit, until he realized he might have been enjoying it too much, maybe?

He calculated they were roughly 75% the way across the bridge and the treads ripped mercilessly into a larger SUV and her body bumped up and down upon him, nearly head butting him from behind.  Attempting to prevent it from occurring again, he felt as she tried to lean forward, clenching her core, shifting the bumping force onto her hips and consequently her butt, as it centered her bounce up and down directly on his lap.

Hmmmmm.

After they had mounted the vehicle fully and it started to buckle under their weight, she helt her pose, flexing her abs tightly to keep her head and shoulders from him as much as possible, and her butt now rubbed against him with an intriguing friction.  Then they mounted the next car and she bounced again.

Quintus!  Good god, FOCUS!  You are driving a tank!

He knew he grunted.  He heard himself grunt, more than once in fact, but chances were good she might not have heard over the noise.  She still rubbed against him as they crushed the next car and his hands immediately flew to her hips first, sliding under them as he gripped her cheeks, too firmly he realized as she squeaked at it, lifting her up as far as possible from his lap a mere instant before he felt himself beginning to harden under her.

Oh good god.

It was now that he felt the tank lurch suddenly and violently forward and to the right as it crashed into the sidewall of the bridge.

DAMNATION!

He jammed the brakes down immediately to prevent them from plowing through the concrete wall fully into the dry river below and everything torrentuously flew to a halt suddenly, throwing her to the side as her head hit the hard metal.

“Holy shit, Quinlan!”  She muttered in confusion, grabbing her head.  “What the fuck was that?”

He heard the humans in the center cursing as well.  The force of the abrupt stop had flung everyone in an uncomfortable way.

He still held her above him as he struggled with himself momentarily, closing his eyes and trying desperately to force control over the situation.

“I’m crushing you!”  She wrongly assessed.  She was assuming that she had crushed his privates in some way, he was sure, “I knew it!”

“You are--”  Quinlan considered the following statement carefully.  He could tell the truth, and deal with the embarrassment and, ultimate rejection, or … “Yes.  Just a bit.  Forgive me.”

“You could have just told me.  I’m so sorry.”

She pulled herself up and out of the hatch and he remained a moment, pushing himself down and adjusting the solid item in his pants to a more modest and obfuscated position before chastising it harshly

“What is wrong with you?”  He looked down with pure disgust and questioned out loud before pulling himself up and out of the cockpit to join her outside.

“What is wrong with me?”  Dawn looked perturbed by his frustration and he blinked at her, wondering how she had heard him.

“No, not you.  Sorry.”  He stated as he heard the other hatches begin to open.  He turned to the confused people as they stared at the damaged bridge and the edge of the tank that loomed over it by at least five feet.  It was not enough to worry about, he could reverse and it would be fine, he was sure.  It was not a big deal.

“What is--”

     “Is everything--”

         “What happened--”

              “Who was driving--”

Four voices started to worry out loud and in perfect unison as he halted them succinctly, “It is FINE.  We are FINE.  Please return inside.  It will be FINE.”

“But …” Dutch stuttered from her hatch as she looked at him, seeming nervous to continue.

“Yes?”  He prodded her but she seemed reluctant at first, “Please, what is it now?”  He was already frustrated with himself enough as it was.

“I … I have to pee.”  She confessed and Quinlan brought his hand to his forehead.

“And I’m thirsty.”  The Ukrainian stated.

“I’m kinda hungry too.”  The Boxer followed up.

Gah.  Children.

[aurelliocheek]

John Romero about Doom: 25 Years of Rip & Tear

Fast. Brutal. Hardcore. Merciless. That is Doom.

Doom – ‘nuff said!« That‘s how a Post Mortem on one of the most influencial games of all times could actually look like. Doom wrote games history, Doom is pop culture, Doom is a name that stands for high-speed, hardcore and merciless shooter-action. Everybody knows it, almost everybody played it in at least one of its many different forms – be it the classics, extraordinary mods, Doom 3, fan-projects or id Software‘s Reboot from 2016, published by Bethesda.

On 10th December 2018, Doom celebrated its 25th anniversary. Seriously, is there any better reason to take the time and sit and chat with John Romero, one of id Software‘s founders and Doom‘s creators? We don‘t think so!

One does not simply create a game and thereby a completely new genre, which not only lasts until this day but has ever since evolved tremendously. Looking back at how it came to life, how does it feel being its creator? Hmm… I don’t really think of it this way, which is funny. Even though we made first-person shooters, we originally thought of it as making a better maze game. One that was faster and more fluid – that’s what it felt like at the very, very beginning. Action games or even RPGs before »Wolfenstein 3D« or even »Catacomb 3D«, which was a very fluid moving maze game with demons and stuff, were all built like these 90°-turn wall passages, where each tile only had enough room for one object like a person or enemy; take for example »Might & Magic«, »Ultima« or »Eye of the Beholder«. However, all that these games did was making better wall graphics, but they didn’t make it smoother and faster. And I think, that’s kind of what we did: we took out that block movement, which started with »Maze War« in 1974 – and even that already had deathmatch in it!

There was a game called »Wayout«. It took place in a similar maze, but there were some spaces in the game that were a little bit more open and in which you could fluidly move around. It wasn’t super-fast – it still was an Apple II, with 1 MHz – but fluid. You could turn around in 360° and I was super impressed when I saw that and so I knew that it was possible.

»Catacombs 3D« (upper picture) and »Hovertank One« were the predecessors of »Wolfenstein 3D« and »Doom«.

In 1991, »Hovertank One« was the first time we actually had 3D on screen and moved around in the same kind of mazes (laughs). After Catacomb 3D, we eventually got to Wolfenstein 3D, which was really fast – as fast as we could go in VGA. But Doom really changed it all and it did so, because the environment changed. We got out of these block mazes and went into places that were way cooler and that aspect was very important for the genre to start.

Whenever someone creates something outstanding, people on the outside – in this case gamers – develop high expectations for whatever comes next, and with it there often goes a certain amount of pressure: the pressure of fulfilling these expectations. How has creating Doom influenced your career and how did you deal with the pressure? Well. At id Software, the only pressure we had was our own. We wanted to make really good games. That was the whole point and it didn’t matter what anyone else thought or what other people said; for example, things like »It’s too satanic!« or whatever – we didn’t care at all. It was never going to stop us from doing what we wanted and we never let it pressure us. Nobody makes the best game every time they make a game! By the time Doom came out, I had been making games for 14 years, and during that time every game was getting better and better, but you can’t expect your next game to be the best that’s ever been made, that’s just not realistic. We knew that, because at that point each of us had been making games for at least 10 years. And if you make a lot of games, they’re not going to all be hits – that’s just simple facts. Yeah, we had pressure, but it was our own drive to make really cool stuff! Actually, Doom was the only game where we said at the very beginning that we need to make the best game that we could imagine playing – that was the only time we ever did that (chuckles). »Demons on the Prey«

A Week of Deathmatch with John Romero at GDC, 2013, San Francisco.

Going back even further: what actually sparked the idea for Doom, besides the urge to make a more fluid and advanced maze game, but also in regard to story, setting and everything there is? Did you get any inspiration from books or movies for example? (laughs) It was actually inspired from our D&D campaign. We played »Dungeons & Dragons« for a long time. John Carmack was our dungeon master and he had a world that he had been developing for years when we got together. It had tons of characters in it and it was super political – it was really great! And the D&D campaign ended when I, well… did something that destroyed the world. I opened up a portal to a plane where all the demons are, and they all just poured out over the course of months and destroyed everything in the whole world. Carmack obeyed his own rules and the world was over… and it was due to demons flooding in and ruining everything there was.

So, that was the end of our playing D&D for a while (laughs).

When we were thinking about making Doom, we thought about using this idea, the story about demons pouring in through some kind of portal, and the player actually has the ability to stop it. With that idea, we were thinking about a setting, and we wanted to do something ›sci-fi-futurish‹, because we had already done the ›World War‹ II thing, and we thought that with the new technology we can actually make it look pretty cool. So, with this futuristic setting in mind, Tom Hall came up with the idea of bringing it all to Phobos, where the UAC (Union Aerospace Corporation) was experimenting with teleportation. Doing that, they accidentally opened up portal to hell, but instead of aliens, it’s actually hell coming through (chuckles) and that was something new. No player expected to find hell in space, and that made the game surprising and very interesting. Adding in some of our favourite stuff sci-fi-wise, we thought about what sci-fi-action movies were big at that time and »Aliens« instantly came to mind. We wanted something like that, something terrifying. Also, the dark humour – that’s just part of who we are, and back then »Evil Dead 2« was one of our favourite movies of all time, so we wanted to have this sensibility, and of course the chainsaw and the shotgun (grins)!

In hindsight, is there something you were never 100% happy with? Well, yeah… I wish that I had made a lot more levels… You know, I just made the first episode and not even the boss level, Sandy Petersen had made that because we were just down to the wire. It was a really busy year. We started the game with Tom, until he left us in August. In September, Sandy came on board and first plowed through all of Tom’s stuff and started retexturing and fixing things, and just trying to get a lot of levels done. That was what Sandy was doing, while my work in the beginning was creating the level editor – can’t make any levels without an editor, right? I had to program the tool, and it was really hard coming up with levels that didn’t look like Wolfenstein or rather everything we’ve ever seen in our whole life. So, creating the abstract level design style and developing all that took some time to bring it as far away from Wolfenstein as we could. Then I had to do all the level programming: everything that happens in a Doom level – meaning stairs, doors, lights flickering, you name it – I wrote all of that code, plus the ›save & load‹ code, as well as the tools outside of Doom like the install program, setup, and DM. All of that took me a lot of time and I just wish I would’ve had more time to make more levels.

That’s the only regret I have. Other than that, I still think it turned out great – but it could’ve even been better!

»Aliens« and the character of Ash Williams from »The Evil Dead« inspired certain elements of Doom, be it the atmosphere within the game or… well, the chainsaw and shotgun. Groovy! Copyright: 20th Century Fox Home Entertainment

If you had the chance to make Doom with today’s tech, how would it look? Or rather: were there any features you weren’t able to realize due to technical limitations? Hmm, if I had the same tech as back then, pretty much the same, only with me making more levels. With today’s tech? Completely different, obviously (laughs). Regarding features: no… (pauses). No, we actually put everything in that we wanted to have in the game – at that time! After a game comes out and you see what people do with it, then of course you get all kinds of ideas of what would be really cool to have. But those things didn’t exist while we were making the game. There simply wasn’t any game like it, so there’s really no way to say »Oh yeah, we messed up« or »We didn’t do a lot of things, because we didn’t have enough time«, simply because those ideas didn’t exist as the game wasn’t out, yet. Everything in the whole world was pre-Doom.

In Germany, Doom I & II were indexed, but re-rated after roughly 19 years. In October 2012, Bethesda released the »Doom 3: BFG Edition«, which included the (not indexed) »Doom3« as well as both the originals. And the amazing thing after having played both games again after almost two decades: they still hold up to this very day and that is quite impressive. Yeah, right? It’s like with »Super Mario« or »Donkey Kong«. It still feels excellent. It’s just that no one really knows how to nail a classic. You have to have a lot of experience making stuff before that’s going to happen. Nowadays, source ports of Doom feel smoother than it did at the very beginning. Now it’s super smooth and really, really fast!

Looking at so many other games that exist, no matter the genre, a lot of them aged really badly. What are, in your opinion, the key elements for Doom not being one of them? Number 1: I think that one of the most important things when you start programming a game, is that it’s tied to a timer, you need to have timer chip control. That means that you’ll never go too fast on any future computer. When we wrote our games, even before id Software, John and I were individually writing games with timer chip control. So as soon as our game starts we immediately set the timer chip for the refresh rate we want the game to go at, and to make sure it doesn’t go faster than that. If it went slower than that, then we would have code that would fix the speed of the character to match where they should be, for example if your CPU was a little too slow. So you actually have to have code to handle moving too slow on a slow computer, but also ensures that moving is never too fast on future computers as well. That’s unbelievably important.

When you go and look back at any games from that time period, they just zoom all over the screen, as they’re just too fast, because CPUs are insane now. The ones that are still super playable are the ones that have real hardware control. None of the Origin games had timer control because they were maxing-out the fastest computers when they released (laughs).

Is it safe to say, that first-person shooters are your favourite genre? I think so, yeah. I mean, it’s super immersive, it looks amazing, there’s lots of great puzzle-solving in that space. I love »Half Life 2«’s physics puzzles – being in a space like that is just so much more immersive than any 2D puzzle game. But that’s a totally different kind of thinking. Before making shooters, I did a ton of different games. For me, Wolfenstein was game number 87! Before that, I had already made 86 games – and that’s only the ones that were being published. So, yeah, I had some practice before Doom (laughs). Up to today I‘ve now made a total of around 150 games.

As an example: Less than a year ago, I did a 10-hour gamejam. The title turned out to be a really cool little game called »July 4th 1976«. I worked on it with a coder friend of mine, and it was super creepy and different. I put it in the App Store, and boom – a new game (laughs). There’s another gamejam next weekend I want to attend. Maybe I can put out another game.

Actually, the last time I’ve been to a gamejam, my son joined me. He flew over from the US to Ireland for father’s day. So, we did a gamejam in the city with a whole bunch of other people and we made something really cool, but the idea was way too big for the time we had. I want to finish it though, because the idea was really cool. You see, I’m always making stuff. I’m currently working on three different games at once.

In 2016, id Software released its Reboot of Doom – fast-paced, hardcore, brutal, real. Its successor »Doom Eternal« is set for 2019.

Are there any other genres or genre-typical mechanics you would like to mix with an FPS? Well, when creating an FPS, I don’t really think about genre-merging, because to me that would feel kind of artificial. When I want to make a new shooter, I rather think about what I want to do in this gameplay style that hasn’t been done and what I haven’t seen before. Take the original »Prey« for example, where you could walk on walls, which totally changed the whole game. They didn’t mash up any genres, they simply put in a very cool feature.

Actually, I do have some cool ideas, but I can’t really talk about them, because… well, you know…(laughs)! But seriously though, there’s still so much that hasn’t been done in FPSs, yet. And it’s amazing how the genre evolved. Just take the first-person perspective. The fact alone that with »Quake« we have created a fluid high-speed first-person perspective, all in 3D. Even games like »World of Warcraft« had to come from that. In fact, the lead programmer of WoW worked on Quake. So when you talk about influences, Doom sure was the beginning, but Quake’s impact was also big. The Production Director for »Overwatch« is the same guy who coded the 3D engine for »Star Wars: Dark Forces« back in 1995. And it’s funny how eventually it all goes back down to Doom, when it comes to a full 3D world.

We actually helped Valve when they started working on »Half-Life«. They came over to our office, and we set them up with a Quake Engine license, and I talked to them about what kind of team they’d need to make an FPS, then they started their company. But it’s not only FPSs – Markus Persson who created »Minecraft« once told me that Doom was the reason he became a programmer. So, you could say that without Doom, there wouldn’t be a Minecraft today (laughs).

From all the first-person shooters that came out in recent years, which is your favourite? Ummm… (long pause). You know, I really like the new »Doom«! It’s got the attitude, it’s got the speed. And for today, it was about making things move fast, but you just can’t have 50 super-fast demons on you, you just couldn’t live. It’s got just the right amount. In the original Doom, we often had a lot of enemies on the screen, but they would move slower. But yeah, it just feels like a really good hardcore shooter and it inherits the essence of how hardcore shooters should be and how we wanted to make them.

… the starting scene where the Doom Marine just takes the screen on which he’s told what’s going on and he just throws it away. All in all though, it feels like they treated the material with the right attitude and necessary respect. (Starts cheering) Yeah! It‘s like »I don’t care. There is no story. Rip & Tear!« And you’re right, they really got what Doom was and made it right. This is absolutely what we would have done if we had the tech. They went into the same direction we would have gone anyway. They worked on it for seven years – that’s such a long time, but they took the time and they made it right. It’s hardcore, it’s really great!

What’s your opinion on »Doom Eternal«? Unbelievable! It was such a great idea just going for that grappling hook – just do it! (laughs) But seriously, everybody is excited about it, because with the Doom they already made they proved that they know what Doom is and how to make something awesome. And what they did with the next one, was basically what we did with »Doom 2: Hell on Earth«. We didn’t mess up anything, but we took what everyone liked and made it better, and that’s exactly what they did with Eternal: they took what everybody liked and made it better, and they did not mess up anything that was already in the game. That’s how you make a sequel!

And you know what? I’m actually more excited for what comes after Doom Eternal (laughs), I mean, I really want to know where Doom goes, because we’ve seen nothing after Doom 2. This is the fifth Doom, and I’m waiting for the next Doom 3 – the real one, not the remake! Looking back at »Half-Life 2«, it was a great game. It was more expansive in scope and more scientific, such a great adventure to go on with all the changing environments and everything. But Doom… Doom is visceral, that’s the major difference.

From left to right: John Carmack, Kevin Cloud, Adrian Carmack, John Romero, Tom Hall, Jay Wilbur.

What did you think about all the easter eggs? Like the little Doom Marine figurine you fist-bump when you find it, the Icon of Sin or Commander Keen’s helmet and skull on a stick? (Laughs) The figurine was so great, and it wasn’t that hard to find. At some point you just turn and backtrack, and then you find him sitting there and I was like »Ah, so little collectibles are a thing now.« And it’s actually funny that they put the word ›Doom‹ on Keen’s helmet, because the only validation for that can be found in Doom 2. There’s a secret level at the very end, where Commander Keen is hanging, and you can shoot him, that’s about it.

Speaking of secret levels: »To win the game you must get 100% on level 15 by John Romero.« – A guy called Zero Master obviously managed to be the first to get 100% of all secrets in said level. Really? After more than 20 years? And what’s the story behind that? Yup, that’s real, nobody had done that before (laughs). Basically it was a special sector that I made while making this level. I put a secret teleporter behind a wall and that teleporter would take you somewhere. But instead of the destination where the teleporter took you being marked as a secret, I marked the teleporter itself as a secret. Normally, when you go into a teleporter, you never actually touch the sector inside the teleporter – you hit the line and you’re teleported. There’s also some weird movement stuff going in that little space. To mark a secret, you also need to be at the same vertical height as the sector, and this sector is above where the player is at. In this case, the players touch the line before they reach the same height as the sector and so they’re gone.

This player who discovered it actually used a Pain Elemental to push them into the teleporter to mark that secret. No one’s ever done that (laughs) and you could tell that guy did it on purpose because he pushed the Pain Elemental all the way down this really long hallway to get there. Sometimes it’s really fascinating what players actually come up with, they do all kinds of crazy stuff (laughs)!

If you could choose one game, you would’ve always loved or still would love to be a part of – your own games excluded –, which one would it be and why? Minecraft! It’s just the best game ever made, and unlike any other game. It’s absolutely incredible! World of Warcraft would be another choice; WoW is derived from »Everquest«, which again is derived from »Ultima Online« – there’s already a lineage there. But it gets to be grindy and repetitive, while Minecraft is just unlimited creativity – simply an amazing game, and its effects on the game industry are yet to be felt even more. Take »Fortnite« or, rather, its building aspect, which is obviously influenced by Minecraft.

In which regards do you think – positive as well as negative – has the games industry changed the most over the last 25 years? Huh… there’s been so many things. The rise of Facebook and Facebook gaming was very interesting and completely unforeseen, just like Minecraft. These huge things, they just appear. »POOF« and there they are, changing the internet.

If you’re a kid who loves Minecraft, however, have fun trying to download mods for it, because everybody’s mod pages and download sites are garbage! It’s horrible, they’re just trying to lure kids into installing all kinds of other stuff. Which download button do you click? If there’s ten buttons, nine of them are installing malware and one actually takes you to the mod you want – that’s insane! Especially as the appetite from kids is there.

And just look at Facebook games. Millions of people make and play these games. I made a Facebook game myself, and I had 25 million people playing it every month. That’s absolutely crazy! It was really interesting to see these things rise up and have this kind of exposure. And it influences everybody else. A lot of people are creatively influenced, others are influenced monetarily, and they just want to make money off that idea, so there’s a ton of ›gold-rushing‹ towards those things.

After 24 (!!) years, player Zero Master finally managed to discover the last and final unrevealed secret. Check the video: www.youtube.com/watch?v=irNoHfnLXRM

Is that rather positive or negative now? Oh no, I think it’s great. The kind of gameplay that evolved on Facebook using your friend network was unlike anything anyone had ever seen in a game before. Nobody had a network like that to connect to, and it was really interesting to see how designers would exploit or use the network that they have or even extend the network to people they don’t know, because these are people that also play the same game. That way they even meet new people through the game. It was really interesting to see this development and it showed how a platform like Facebook could really influence game design in a big way.

… and something really negative? On the whole there’s been a ton of positivity. But… well, #Gamergate, that should never have happened. And lootboxes (laughs). Lootboxes are still in flux. But it depends: if it’s only about stuff for peacocking, it’s one thing. If it’s ‘pay to win’, then it’s so not cool!

What’s your advice for young developers who try to get into the industry today and hopefully survive there? Find something that you’d like to do and mod a game using that skill. Mod multiple games, get experience in doing that and if you like it a lot, then create a portfolio page and get in touch with the companies you’d like to work for. And if you want to make games – well, start making them, however you can. The internet is packed-full with all the information you could possibly ever want. There’s no excuse for not making stuff!

Over the years you’ve probably been asked the same questions over and over again, and once more today. Now is your chance: if you could pick one question you’d like to answer that no one’s asked you before, which would it be? (Laughs) Hahaha, oh geez! Well… (pauses), what was it like making games on the Apple II?

And now you’ve got to answer it. It was tremendous amounts of fun. The Apple II was a finite computer that has nothing to do with today’s computers, which are endless, and you never stop learning. This computer was finite and limited in what it could do and what it had in it. But even with those limits, there was still an unbelievable amount to learn in order to master it and going from BASIC to assembly language and then all the techniques that you could use in assembly that are very different than 8-bit computers of that time period that had hardware systems for sprites and stuff like that – the Apple II had none. A lot of programming techniques had to be developed to put stuff on the screen manually. The interesting ‘problem’ that programming in assembly language brings is that there’s a lot you have to have in your head to write a game in it. And when one person is doing that, it’s hard to really focus on a big and cool new game design, because you already have incredible amounts of stuff in your head in order to just make even a simple game.

Making big games didn’t really happen back then. And if there were any, like the Ultima games, and “Wizardry”, it was because that programmer was just better than most people. They had more practice before making their cool big game, so they could focus more on the design than on the implementation of it. They had already spent years getting good at coding, so they could now focus more on design. And in the early days it was hard to find the time because the industry had just begun in 1977, so it was a race. But it was an amazing time and fun sharing information with other people, and back then everyone was discovering stuff for the first time. There were hardly any books, so it was even cooler when you could actually get a piece of information from somebody, or find a cool trick somewhere in a magazine. It was simply the most fun time ever, because it was also during the arcade explosion and all of the creativity that was coming out in the arcades, all the games that no one had ever seen before, coupled with the fact that you have that going into your head and you could make that stuff happen on a computer. There’s no end to what you can do, there’s no end to what you want to do.

Looking back at your time at id Software: in hindsight and despite how it all went down between you and John Carmack, is there – still today – a specific moment you wouldn’t want to miss for the world? Basically, everything up until halfway through 1995.

John Romero is a legend! Besides that he was the Co-Founder of id Software and creator of classics like »Commander Keen«, »Wolfenstein 3D«, »Doom I & 2« and »Quake«.

The post John Romero about Doom: 25 Years of Rip & Tear appeared first on Making Games.

John Romero about Doom: 25 Years of Rip & Tear published first on https://leolarsonblog.tumblr.com/

[decadenttimetravelmentality-blog]

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I was hit in a wreck. They're insurance company quoted me $400 and wrote me a check for it which I did not accept. All they did was look at the external damages. Then I took it to a dealer collision center and they quoted me $1100 and they guessed more damage was done but couldn't say unless they took apart my bumper. I'm not wanting to get it fixed in a shop since my father can fix it for me, but $400 is not going to cover the cost of fixing it. so my question is... Does their insurance company have to give me the money quoted by other body shops or is my only option having it fixed in a shop?""

Home insurance for high risk person?

A few months ago my dad had a fire at his house. In the middle of restorations, his insurance company dropped him. I'm not sure why they did, but I know my dad has really bad credit and was probably not very nice to whoever was handling his claim. He said that he is trying to get insurance, but can't find any. I'm wondering if it is because he is a high risk candidate and I am wondering where he can go to get insurance. I will probably be helping him with it from here on out, so I will need to know what kinds of things to say/look for. He is a reitred teacher and doesn't have a ton of money or assets, so I want to make sure he gets good coverage that he can afford. I'm not sure if this helps, but his dad was a veteran who died in a VA hospital when my dad was young. I keep seein things about insurance for family of veterans, but I know very little about it.""

How i can get cheap insurance for my children?

How i can get cheap insurance for my children?

""What is the best insurance company that will give me a good rate, and good coverage for a 16 yr old teen?

Good driving record with no incidents and and good grades with excellent attendance. Doesn't matter if it's an online insurance company.

Will I be able to buy car insurance?Thanks?

Im 19 and I was on my dads Metropolitan insurance company. I had 2004 Honda Civic but my dad had the car title in his name. I crashed my car and I was at fault so now we're waiting for the case to settle. My dad wants to wait for the case to settle before I buy another car. The case might take another year or more before its settled. I would like to buy my own insurance and my own car. How will the insurance work out or whats the cheapest insurance? Thanks

CAR INSURANCE FOR A 16 YEAR OLD?

would it be more expensive for car insurance for a brand new car or a used car.

Does getting stopped by the police affect your car insurance?

i got stopped by the police a couple days. i had my car insurance and everything. He took my license plate number. . will getting stopped affect my car insurance in any way?

How much does health insurance usually cost someone in their 20's?

How much does health insurance usually cost someone in their 20's?

Health Insurance and Hospital?

I'm not quite sure how to say this w/o getting too deep into it,but there seems to be a Communication problem between Mount Sinai Hospital in Miami Beach and my Insurance company united american. They(the hospital) tell me they never get paid by my insurance Company and i have been back and forth between the two of them. Once Mount Sinai's business office sent me a correspondence saying my insurance company told them that i should pay the bill. I think the hospital is lying...anyone have any problems with this hospital when it comes to business etiquette and what came of it..what did you do about it. They don't have their heads screwed on right""

Individual eye insurance?

I am needing eye insurance for individual. Do you know any?

Selling a car but keeping insurance?

my question is, i have a car at the moment with 2 years no claims bonus.. (i should have 3 years in july) but i am selling my car this week to a mate. they said if i cancel my insurance policy i will only have 2 years no claims can i still sell the car to someone else and just keep the insurance running for it without saying so i'l have 3 years by july or do u have to cancel it once sold, the guy im selling it hasnt actually passed his tes so prob wont even be insuring it for a while and when he does he said hes gonna put the car on his girlfriends insurance""

Can I claim health insurance costs?

If i am retired, 55 and have to pay my own health insurance, can I deduct them on my income taxes. Lets say the monthly premium is $500 and my anual income is $24,000""

Motorcycle Insurance?

I got into a car accident almost 2 years ago and I was wondering if it will effect me when I get insurance for my motorcycle?

What is a good price for motorbike insurance for 125cc (im 18)?

how much is a good price for an 18 year old motorbike insurance for an 125cc. Also where is best to get it? cheers

Can an insurance company buy off and tow my car?

some construction company hit my car. the estimate repair is 2400.00 my car in kellybluebook is 1600.00, they said they could either write me a check of 1000.00 or their insurance if going to tow my car and give me what they think is worth. can an insure really do that? can't they just repair my car and give me a rental until i get it repaired? what should i do the accident happened 6/26/13""

I live in PA...I never had car insurance but I'm buying my first car. I can't get a car insurance quote so...

how can I drive the car off the lot if I don't have insurance? I'm lost...can somebody help me solve this problem? Thank you.

homeowner insurance quotes missouri

homeowner insurance quotes missouri

What's average price for moped insurance?

thinking of a getting a 125cc cobra, i'm 18 and recently passed my CBT. Can anyone please tell me how much i'd be looking at paying?""

How does one go about getting insurance?

ok I know there is some different insurance types out there like health car etc etc but i want to know how do you go about getting it! see I'm 15 years old I know i shouldn't worry about this now but it just seems like a good idea to ask the question now this one lil question has plenty of other questions with it how many different insurances do you need to have? what should you look for in Insurance? how much is insurance? what is an insurance rate? and the title of this question how does one go about getting it? on that last one I really need a detailed answer because I am 15 I just got back in school so my brain is a bit mushy and not so quick XD and way like I said I'd really like a detailed answer on that last one heck if ya role play it out with your self for me then that would even make it easier so the more questions you answer in this (with a good answer mind you) the more likely I am to choose you as the best answer!

What are friends with benefits? Do they provide health insurance coverage?

What are friends with benefits? Do they provide health insurance coverage?

I hit my sisters car in the drive way. will my insurance go up?

When i was backing out she was really close and i hit here side with mine. i put a palm size dent in the car and i broke here mustangs lubber. will my insurance go up because of this? i herd that something like that it wont. it happened in my drive way. and my insurance comp is the General

List the 5 conditions that must be met by populations to insure stability (no evolution).?

List the 5 conditions that must be met by populations to insure stability (no evolution).?

Will my insurance be cheaper if my dad keeps my car in his name?

So my dad is giving me a car, he got a few insurance quotes but they are as high as $600. If my dad keeps the car in his name and just adds me as a driver will my insurance be cheaper? Please help!!!""

Question about car insurance...?

Me and my partner are looking to buy a car. He is the only one who drives and so the insurance would be for him. We have noticed that all insurance policies ask whether you have any children under the age of 16. If the answer to this question is 'yes' it significantly increases the insurance quote. I am currently 15 weeks pregnant and so at the time we take out the policy we will not have any children. Would it be ok for us say no to the question about children as technically we wont have any? Thanks

Home insurance comparison?

Considering switching home insurance carriers. The North Carolina Rate Bureau (NCRB) rate and premium for a policy period from May 18, 2013 to May 18, 2014 is $770. The insurance company's proposed rate and premium is $984. This represents a 28% increase over the NCRB rate and premium. Our assessed home value is $525,000. We hold other policies with USAA (auto, life), but have not gone with them for home because the feedback we've received insofar as home has not been favorable. I welcome your home insurance insights, thank you.""

Affordable dental insurance in Michigan?

I live in Saginaw Michigan and I am looking for affordable dental insurance. Any good leads?

Where can a person find affordable health insurance...?

...in Illinois if they are single, childless, and with low income?""

Car insurance how much am I going to pay for this?>?

Im wanting to buy a jeep, 200 jeep grand Cherokee its 4X4 and $3999. Its Black with leather seats. Very nice jeep. Id like to get it. Ive had my jeep in my boyfriends, stepdads Garage for almost a Year. They keep putting me off and I just Want to get my own thing. Im tired of borrowing there cars. The jeep I had thats in there shop is an old 1990 cherokee. and its was under my boyfreinds insurance All state. He says its expensive to get my own. I see quotes all over the place. Ive never been in a wreck nor have ever got a speeding ticket. Im responisbile have my own job. Im 23. Every time I bring up the fact that I want to just go to the dealership to get a car. He says Ill pay Alot becuase its a jeep and since its not all paid off I will be paying Alot. Im thinking about getting a loan. Ive got 700 in the bank right now. I dont have any lines of credit. I really need to know how much insurance for Good insurance will it be. I have no clue what anything is with insurance policys or what. Just clue me in. PLease. thanks""

What is the average cost of farm liability insurance?

I can't find any quotes online, but I have to provide an estimate for the insurance costs for a U-PICK 4 acre blueberry operation. Any ideas of the price range?""

Why is my car insurance so expensive?

I'm 18 and I drive a 2008 dodge caliber. I've been paying 200+ a month on insurance and I'm sick of it. I will be 19 in the summer and have had my license going on 3 years. I have a clean record accident free and incident free. Will my payment ever go down? It's bad enough I'm already a poor college student lol.

2003 Hummer H2 insurance cost? For 16 year old? 10 points!?

How much will the insurance cost for this car? This car is FREE for me because it's my dad's and he wants me to have it as my first car. It only has 60,000 miles on it for a almost 10 year old car. It is practically new with a tv inside and nice rims. How much will insurance be?""

Is it compulsory to have comprehensive insurance for car or 3rd party ins is sufficient?

any diff for having insurance for new/old/second hand car?

How much is insurance on a motorcycle for a 16 year old caucasion male in Texas??

i have never had a car or anythin. i am wanting to buy a kawasaki 599cc. i havnt had any accidents or anything. i just need an estimant on how much it would be monthly. now plz dont say call your insurance company or give me a site to go to just plz gestimate what you think it would be.

Why might a 19 year old driver be glad that insurance companies pool risk?

Why might a 19 year old driver be glad that insurance companies pool risk?

Can a woman add a man to her health insurance?

Im about to graduate college and hope to become a teacher in August...my fiance wants to open a tattoo shop and therefore will not have insurance coverage... so my question is: Once we're officially married, and i am employed as a full time teacher...will I be able to add him (and my 2 kids) to my insurance? The reason im asking is bc im unsure (embarassingly) if a woman can add her husband to the insurance..bc i know men add there wives and stuff all the time? Does my teacher insurance cover all of us, including my husband and 2 kids?""

""Free medical care-for adults-in Tampa,Florida?

can people with health problems who has no insurance get free medical care.

Car insurance confusion: Honda Jazz & Ford Fiesta... help please?

Hi there guys, I am sorry if this is a boring run of the mill question with an obvious answer, but I am seriously confused! I have two prospect cars to chose between, one is a Honda Jazz, and one is a Ford Fiesta, now to my knowledge the Jazz's insurance group should be around 11-14, (new 1-50 ranking) and the Fiesta should be around 8. A number of sites have confirmed this to be true. But trying to get actual insurance quotes, the Jazz is coming out cheaper, by at least 300. (This is with my details and the rest of the policy identical) I thought insurance group was the only factor of the car that changed the insurance, or is there another factor? I am a newly passed driver if that changes anything?""

What is an average rate of insurance for a 2004 Saab 9-3 Arc convertible?

I heard that insurance is expensive for a convertible. I was just wondering if someone could tell me an average price to insure this car?!?!?!

Insurance for a jeep wrangler?

I really wanna buy a two door hard top keep wrangler. I was just wondering roughly what would my insurance be like. I have never gotten in an accident or in trouble with the law, I have good grades, took a drivers Ed course and I'm a girl. Anyone know how much the would be? Roughly""

How can I get affordable Medical Insurance for my family?

My wife and I are hoping to have another child soon. Were getting alot of our debt paid off since I am working overtime. However our current Insurance doesn't offer maternity ...show more

Proof of insurance.?

I feel like an idiot asking this question but what do i bring to prove proof of insurance? is it possible to send the latest copy of my health insurance bill? or is there a specific piece of paper?

Where can I get cheap auto insurance?

I am paying too much on auto insurance and I need a cheap option.

homeowner insurance quotes missouri

homeowner insurance quotes missouri

https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/nissan-altima-2005-insurance-quote-owen-patrick/"

[investmart007]

CAIN ALTO, Puerto Rico | Puerto Rico grid 'teetering' despite $3.8 billion repair job

New Post has been published on https://is.gd/7mcLRC

CAIN ALTO, Puerto Rico | Puerto Rico grid 'teetering' despite $3.8 billion repair job

CAIN ALTO, Puerto Rico (AP) — After months of darkness and stifling heat, Noe Pagan was overjoyed when power-line workers arrived to restore electricity to his home deep in the lush green mountains of western Puerto Rico. But to his dismay, instead of raising a power pole toppled by Hurricane Maria, the federal contractors bolted the new 220-volt line to the narrow trunk of a breadfruit tree — a safety code violation virtually guaranteed to leave Pagan and his neighbors blacked out in a future hurricane.

“I asked the contractors if they were going to connect the cable to the post and they just didn’t answer,” said Pagan, a 23-year-old garage worker.

After an eight-month, $3.8 billion federal effort to try to end the longest blackout in United States history, officials say Puerto Rico’s public electrical authority, the nation’s largest, is almost certain to collapse again when the next hurricane hits this island of 3.3 million people.

“It’s a highly fragile and vulnerable system that really could suffer worse damage than it suffered with Maria in the face of another natural catastrophe,” Puerto Rican Gov. Ricardo Rossello said.

Another weather disaster is increasingly likely as warmer seas turbocharge the strongest hurricanes into even more powerful and wetter storms. Federal forecasters say there’s a 75 percent likelihood that the 2018 Atlantic hurricane season, which begins Friday, will produce between five and nine hurricanes. And there’s a 70 percent chance that as many as four of those could be major Category 3, 4, or 5 hurricanes, with winds of 111 mph (179 kph) or higher.

“It’s inevitable that Puerto Rico will get hit again,” said Assistant Secretary Bruce Walker, head of the U.S. Department of Energy’s Office of Electricity, which is planning the long-term redesign of the grid run by the Puerto Rico Electric Power Authority.

Despite the billions plowed into the grid since Maria hit on Sept. 20, 2017, Puerto Rican officials warn that it could take far less than a Category 4 storm like Maria to cause a blackout like the one that persists today, with some 11,820 homes and businesses still without power.

“The grid is there, but the grid isn’t there. It’s teetering,” said Hector Pesquera, Puerto Rico’s commissioner of public safety. “Even if it’s a (Category) 1, it is in such a state that I think we’re going to lose power. I don’t know for how long.”

Federal officials and Puerto Rican leaders blame decades of mismanagement that left the island’s power authority more than $9 billion in debt after declaring bankruptcy last year. Expensive projects were launched then cancelled. Politicians approved cheap power for well-connected corporations. By the time Maria hit, wooden power poles were rotted, transmission towers had rusted through and overgrown trees menaced thousands of miles of power lines.

In many places across Puerto Rico, federal emergency funds allocated in the aftermath of the disaster made up for years of neglected maintenance, replacing decaying infrastructure with tens of thousands of new poles and hundreds of miles of power lines rushed from the U.S. mainland at a steep premium.

But in other areas, crews without adequate supplies patched together damaged poles and power lines in a desperate push to restore power. In the western highlands, power cables were spliced together and woven haphazardly through trees in blatant violation of basic safety codes. In Pagan’s town of Cain Alto and at least one other location, trees were used as makeshift power poles in the absence of proper equipment.

“We patched things up. We worked with the little material that was available and we recycled material. We took the 1,000 feet of wire that was on the ground and we strung it up in another area,” one power authority worker said, speaking on condition of anonymity for fear of retaliation from management. “We took the post that had fallen over or broken and we put it up somewhere else. A lot of the work is defective.”

Fredyson Martinez, vice president of the power authority workers’ union, said he estimates that roughly 10 percent to 15 percent of the repair work done over the last eight months did not meet basic quality standards.

“The logistics were terrible. I give it an F,” he said. “Things need to be fixed.”

Federal and Puerto Rican officials are preparing for another catastrophe that cuts power for weeks or month. The Federal Emergency Management Agency is leaving some 600 generators installed in key sites such as hospitals and water pumping stations, more than six times the number before Maria. FEMA has stockpiled 5.4 million liters of water and more than 80,000 tarps, and is distributing them and other emergency supplies to towns across the island so they will be in place for the next disaster.

Power company director Walter Higgins told The Associated Press that crews also are preparing to strengthen the power grid, a project he estimates will take years and could cost between $5 billion to $8 billion. He said that within four months, crews in the nearby islands of Vieques and Culebra will start building the grid to modern standards.

Still, few people believe Puerto Rico is truly ready.

“If a hurricane comes tomorrow it will leave the island completely without power again,” said Juan Rosario, a community activist and former member of the power authority’s board of directors.

Up to 4,645 more deaths than usual occurred in Puerto Rico in the three months after Maria, contends a new study published this week by the New England Journal of Medicine, an estimate that far exceeds the official government death toll of 64.

Officials now are warning Puerto Ricans to stockpile enough emergency supplies to survive as long as 10 days without help. Tens of thousands of homes still don’t have roofs. FEMA distributed 59,000 enormous plastic sheets to homeowners who lost their roofs in Irma or Maria. More than 100,000 more received smaller tarps to protect specific rooms or belongings. Only 21,000 households have received federal aid to carry out permanent repairs.

Juana Sostre Vasquez’s wooden house in the central highlands was ripped off its foundation by Maria. With the help of a son-in-law, the 69-year-old rebuilt, using cinderblocks and cement bought with $14,000 in FEMA reconstruction aid. Her roof is metal sheeting nailed onto wooden two-by-fours because she couldn’t afford to build stronger. She says she’s hopeful the next hurricane won’t send that sheeting flying.

“The money didn’t let us do the roof,” she said. “I’m doing it little by little as I save a couple of dollars.”

Mike Byrne, the head of FEMA’s Caribbean office, says he expects the federal government will eventually have spent a total of $17.5 billion in emergency funds on fixing the hurricane damage and making Puerto Rico’s grid more resilient to future storms.

The U.S. Army Corps of Engineers ended its power restoration work in May, so future funding is expected to pass through Puerto Rico’s bankrupt power company. After receiving $945 million in federal funds for repairs to the island’s electric grid, Oklahoma-based Mammoth Energy Services announced Monday that the power authority had awarded its subsidiary, Cobra Energy, another $900 million to finish the job and begin fortifying the grid against future storms. In addition, Higgins said that a $500 million contract was just awarded to Florida-based MasTec for the same purposes, and that a third contract is being finalized.

Last week, Cobra’s crews were working to rebuild one of a pair of 230-kilo-volt transmission lines climbing from Puerto Rico’s main power plants on its southern coast across high mountains to the main users of energy in the capital, San Juan, and other industrial sites and population centers in the north. Because of a decision years ago to stretch the island’s main transmission lines through a narrow path across the rugged mountains, one of the transmission lines must be turned off so its powerful current doesn’t energize equipment and workers laboring a few feet away.

Cobra transmission director Alan Edwards had more than 50 linemen working on the repair, at nearly $4,000 per worker per day in federal funds from the Puerto Rico power authority, when he got the call to stop. A flaw was causing a transmission line to overheat dangerously elsewhere in the system, so the line alongside where Edwards’ men were working would have to be returned to service, forcing the crews to stop for at least the rest of the day.

“Maybe we’re back at it tomorrow, I don’t know. May be next week before we can get back out there,” Edwards said.

The already staggering reconstruction costs will rise by billions more if another hurricane hits. And many billions worth of those federally funded improvements could eventually pass into private hands: Puerto Rico’s Senate could approve the sale of much of the island’s power grid to a private power company or companies as early as this week.

The potential sale won’t affect the federal government’s decision to spend billions of dollars on repairing and improving the grid, said Byrne, the head of FEMA’s operations in the Caribbean.

“I can’t wait, because these are U.S. citizens that are at risk. U.S. citizens deserve every ounce of effort that I can bring to this, and that’s what they’re going to get,” Byrne said.

By MICHAEL WEISSENSTEIN by Associated Press – published on STL.News by St. Louis Media, LLC(U.S)