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jgvfhl · 4 years ago

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The Number Lads

Part 1/???? 3K words, no warnings :)

So I’ve created an audience on Tumblr for the Number Lads, and I’ve happened to got 3K words here for them. So! Here are the origins of the Number Lads! More to follow.... eventually....

For future reference:

Sevenset = ARC-7777 = ARCBoiiiii

Do-si-do = CT-2222 = Double Trouble

Trees = CT-3333 = Green Bean

Loops = CT-8888 = Loopy

Sixes = CC-6666

Double Trouble: i meant it as a joke sevens

ARCBoiiiiii: i didn’t

ARCBoiiiii: what you think you can drop that information on me and i wont use it??? how long have you known me

Double Trouble: okay okay but if you die i’m not mourning you

Loopy: ouch

Green Bean: how do you have this much time to comm us when you’re at ARC training, sevenset

Green Bean: who changed my name

Double Trouble: :3c

ARCBoiiiii: what you don’t like it? thought it suited you, trees

Green Bean: why did i let you guys talk me into this club…

ARCBoiiiii: we’re awfully convincing that way

Double Trouble: you felt compelled

Double Trouble: it’s the numbers gang bond

Green Bean: it was not that

ARCBoiiiii: was it loops space buns

ARCBoiiiii: i bet it was loops space buns

Loopy: what

Double Trouble: they are adorable

Loopy: oh kriff you, don’t you have arc stuff to do, sevenset?

ARCBoiiiii: ehhhhh my next training block doesnt start for another 4min, so....

Double Trouble: well i gotta run, we’re going hyperspace in a min or so--remember the meeting next week!!! be there or be square!

ARCBoiiiii: we dont have any perfect squares yet ;-;

Green Bean: Yeah, yeah, i’ll see you weirdos eventually

Loopy: stay alive out there

Double Trouble: especially the guy who wants to recruit Commander Death over there

ARCBoiiiii: I’ll be fiiinnnne whats the worst that can happen

Green Bean: i mean. his name. is DEATH?

ARCBoiiiii: ..... a fair point.... i guess you’ll just have to wait until the next numbers gang meeting huh :)

Loopy: maker help you

----

Sevenset was uncharacteristically quiet that day during second meal, but only because his mouth was continually occupied with food, not talking. He was on the clock today.

“Hey, Sevenset, are you inhaling those rations, or…?”

He looked over at Buster next to him, quickly swallowing his food. “I just got something I wanna do,” he said, taking a glug of water.

“Something so important you’re taking one of the few unscheduled breaks we have to do it? Okay then.”

Sevenset cleaned the rest of his tray, flashing a grin at Buster as he stood up. “Don’t wanna be late. Got a meeting with death.” He really couldn’t resist the pun. Honestly.

Buster’s eyebrow raised skeptically. His friend next to him, Sketch, asked, “Is this about some new way you’ve managed to piss off the trainers? Because yeah, I’m sure Alpha could arrange a meeting with death for you if you… I dunno, painted pink hearts on his armor.”

“Amazing idea,” Sevenset admitted, his brain automatically figuring out where the pink paint was (he’d have to make it), where Alpha-17’s armor lived (not sure on that one), and how possible it would be to sneak in and out to accomplish the task (a challenge). “However, no, not this time. See you guys later!” He deposited his tray and utensils in the proper area to be cleaned, then jogged out of the mess hall.

Kamino’s winding halls and levels really weren’t efficient--but compared to Coruscant… he couldn’t really argue. A healthy stretch of time in the Guard had given him plenty of tools to make his way around inefficient, crowded, twisty places like this. It didn’t take long before he reached where he was going. Aside from the resident Rancor Battalion, there were often troopers on Kamino from various groups throughout the GAR. They stayed out of the way of those training in separate wings of Tipoca City, and right now, Sevenset was very keen to speak to a visiting commander.

He slipped into a lift with two other troopers--visiting, by the looks of their battered armor. Luckily, they were too engrossed in their own conversation to really notice him, despite his rather colorful tattoos that usually made him stick out. But it was for the best this time. He got off at the level above and started down the hall, reading door labels as he went, searching….

Ah. Here. He pushed a button to open the door, but it was locked. Not entirely surprising, but… now what? If his internal clock was still fairly accurate, he had about ten minutes before he needed to be back for the next training block.

“It’s locked for a reason.”

He whirled, his body almost automatically snapping to attention at the low voice behind him.

Commander Sixes (AKA Commander Death, remember) surveyed him with a disturbing lack of expression. He was tall, for a clone. Probably closer in height to some of the Alphas than to Sevenset. His black armor stuck out like green plants on Coruscant in the brightly lit halls of Tipoca City, making him somehow look even bigger. Even more unnerving, he still had his helmet on, the visor lit with a dull green light, and fixed pointedly on him. Sevenset hated not being able to read people...

Sevenset hadn’t planned for this. Come to think of it, a lot of the “plan” he’d concocted relied on a few assumptions, and all of them seemed to be fading. One of them had been that he would have no problem talking to a CO--he never had before. “Sir, hi--hello--I was uhm…” He managed to clamp down on the first coherent thought to float through his head, so instead of blurting, “You’re a lot taller than I thought you’d be,” he stumbled upon, “It’s a nice room you’ve got. From the outside,” and immediately wanted to bash his head in on the wall.

The commander’s helmet never moved, just kept staring him down. “Get out of my way,” he finally growled, taking a step forward.

Against all better judgement, Sevenset stood his ground, although he squished himself a bit closer against the door. “Yessir, of course, just--one thing, really quick thing, I promise.” When the commander didn’t kill him or rip his arms off or something, he went on, finally finding his words were cooperating with him. “So, you’re CC-6666, naturally. I happen to be CT-7777--Sevenset, I’m Sevenset. There’s a group of us, see, sir--with the repeating numbers, and we have little meetings--”

“No.”

“--is what I thought you’d say, but just--” he paused, fumbling a bit to pull a piece of flimsi out of his pocket. “There’s the frequency, there’s the date of the next meeting,” he said, holding out the flimsi scrap. “I’m sure the other boys would love it if you dropped by.” The end of his final sentence shriveled into an undignified squawk when Commander Sixes reached out, grabbed his collar, and shoved him bodily out of the way of the door.

“Get back to training before I have some of my boys drag you there,” he said, entering the door’s access code.

“I’ve got six minutes--”

The door slid shut in his face. Well. He was still alive. So… that counted as a success. Perhaps not a resounding success, but a success. He stood in stunned silence for a moment, still clutching the scrap of flimsi in his hand, wondering if he should stick it in the door so the commander would find it later. However, he had no trouble believing the commander’s threat that his men literally would drag him back to the ARCs if he told them to, so it was probably best not to linger.

Sevenset jumped to attention for the second time that day when the door slid open again. He just stood there, dumb, as Commander Sixes stepped out, plucked the scrap of flimsi from his fingers, then returned to his room with about as much ceremony as befitted dumping pebbles out of a boot.

Oh, yeah. Definitely a success.

---

The first thing Sixes did once back in the privacy of his albeit temporary rooms was remove the top half of his armor, only leaving the gauntlet with his wrist comm. Turning his attention to said wrist comm, he entered Colt’s number. There was a short wait before the other commander answered it.

“Everything alright over there, Sixes, sir?”

“It’s about one of the ARC candidates.”

There was a pause. Understandable. The ARCs weren’t supposed to be in this wing of Tipoca City. “Which one?” His tone suggested he already had his suspicions.

“Calls himself Sevenset.”

He heard inaudible muttering on the other end. “What’d he do this time?” Sixes had suspected as much.

“Quite a pair he’s got on him, hasn’t he?”

Colt laughed dryly. “Yeah, sure. Hopefully, he’s worth the trouble.”

Sixes looked over the scrap of flimsi in his other hand. “Yeah… I think he might be.”

~+~

Leaning back in his pilot’s chair, Do-si-do watched the little light on the ship’s holoprojector, waiting for the others to join the meeting. He always took the calls in his ship. It was more private than his bunk most of the time, and frankly, the audio quality was so much better than on the hand-held devices.

Trees was the first to join, punctual as usual.

“Hey, Trees,” he smiled.

“Have you heard from Sevenset yet?” he asked.

Do-si-do shook his head, combing strands of his bleached curls out of his face. “Nah. Figure he’s been too busy. Graduation was supposed to be a couple days ago, right?”

“Three, yes.”

Loops’ holographic miniature appeared beside Trees’. He looked exhausted, but awake. His long hair was down from his signature twin buns, and he leaned his chin on his hand, fingers resting just over the infinity symbol tattoo on his cheek.

“Loops,” Trees greeted him.

“Mph.”

“What happened to you?” Do-si-do asked.

“Supply shipment,” Loops sighed. “General Koon’s having skeleton crews tonight so we can get some sleep.” After a stifled yawn, he asked, “Is Sevenset dead yet?”

Do-si-do smiled. “Trees asked the same thing, and I have no idea.”

As if on cue, a third hologram popped up on the ship’s control panel. Sevenset beamed at them, his new ARC pauldrons proudly on display. “Guess who’s not dead, fellas!”

“Hey hey! Look at you, ARC-7777,” Do-si-do grinned, leaning forward in his seat. “How’s it feel?”

“I really love the kama, gotta be honest.” He was only visible from the waist up, but they could see him sway his hips back and forth, clearly enjoying his new gear.

“Show us the paint,” Loops demanded, as firmly has he could demand it in his half-asleep state.

Sevenset obliged, setting down his holoprojector--his personal one, now he had graduated--and stepping back so more of his body was visible. The paint job was fairly similar to his previous armor--the sharp edges, the circle on his right shoulder bell holding four stylized sevens--but the new armor on his chest and arms had forced some alterations. They could see just about all of the kama now, the bright red sevens standing out against the dark grey fabric. Predictable, maybe, but still eye-catching. That was Sevenset’s main goal, if it weren’t already clear from the tapestry of tattoos on his bald head that ran down his neck under his blacks, and the several glinting piercings in his ears and nose.

“It’s definitely you.” Trees, bluntly.

“They let you keep the red paint, huh?” Do-si-do said. Sevenset had previously been assigned to the Coruscant Guard. After proving a bit more trouble than the Guard could take, and catching some CO’s eye, he’d been shipped back to Kamino a couple months ago to join Rancor.

“Hey, if Commander Colt can have it, I guess I can too. No one stopped me.”

Without warning, a fourth hologram appeared beside the others in front of Do-si-do’s eyes. A trooper--a big trooper, even in miniature--and in dark armor, helmet included. His brows scrunched together as he studied the person, failing to recognize them.

Sevenset did. “Commander!”

“I see Colt decided against tossing you overboard.”

Oh, no karking way. “Commander Sixes?” Do-si-do blurted.

At the same time, Loops made some unintelligible noise and suddenly disconnected, and Trees froze like a lizard when a hawk flies overhead, his eyes gone wide, one arm half-way to a salute. Frankly, Do-si-do could understand their reactions. Commander Sixes--like many of the CCs--was legendary. His wing of Star Fighters had fought through some of the toughest space battles so far, and always came out of it. As a pilot himself, Do-si-do had heard story after story about their skills. The fighter wing and the commander now wore the nickname Death, thanks to their brutal but effective tactics.

There was a brief and painfully quiet pause before the commander said, “Pride of the GAR, this lot.”

“Eh, they’ll get over it,” Sevenset shrugged, his hologram appearing to zoom in as he came closer again. “Right, Trees?” he added with a grin. Their friend was still in shock, it looked like. “Might have to tell him to relax, sir.”

The commander’s helmet turned towards Trees. “At ease. Take a breath before you pass out.”

Trees blinked, lowering his arm. “Yessir,” he said quietly, throwing a glance over his shoulder.

“I’ll try to get Loops back,” Sevenset said, a datapad appearing in his hands. Damn, ARCs really did get all the good stuff. Do-si-do still had to share a datapad with his squad of pilots.

“Shouldn’t there be more?” Commander Sixes asked.

“Of us? Yeah,” Do-si-do answered. “I guess there should be nine of us, in theory.”

“Nine or ten,” Trees said, his tone still a bit clipped.

“Ten or eleven, actually,” Sevenset corrected, still looking at his datapad. “We don’t know if a CT designation can be all zeroes. Might have been taken out of the system, who knows.”

“It’s hard when we don’t have access to the full GAR database,” Do-si-do went on. “We have to rely on hearsay and brothers from other battalions. Sevenset and I met by chance on Coruscant.” Loops’ hologram reappeared. He looked a bit more awake now, still visibly on edge from the commander’s arrival, and with a glower on his face. “Loopy! Welcome back.”

“I hate you.”

“Whoa, hey, I didn’t know he was coming either,” he defended himself. “Blame Sevenset.”

“I’m blaming both of you,” Loops said. “You told Sevenset about him, and Sevenset was stupid enough to go through with it.”

Sevenset, his attention off his datapad and back on the meeting, put a hand over his heart. “Stupid enough?” he repeated, doing his best to sound utterly wounded. “I think you mean ballsy enough.”

“He meant stupid enough,” the commander replied immediately and without emotion. “And I agree.”

Do-si-do snorted a laugh at the look of utter indignation on Sevenset’s face. Even Trees relaxed a bit more. “Okay, I can get used to having a CC around,” he grinned.

“Finally, someone with the authority to tell him off,” Loops said, expressing Do-si-do’s feelings exactly.

The recipient of their mocking pouted at them, folding his arms as best he could with his new armor. “Now I just feel unloved.”

“Why do I get the feeling Commander Fox was only too happy to get you qualified for ARC training?” the commander asked, his tone remaining impassive.

“For your information,” Sevenset said, then stopped, realizing, as they all had, that the commander had known where Sevenset had previously served. No one had told him this information. “How did you know I was in the Guard?”

They all turned to the commander. “I’m a commander. I can look anyone up. I looked you all up.”

Do-si-do leaned even farther forward in his seat, a huge smile on his face. “You have access to the full database?”

“You can find the others!” Sevenset completed, a similar smile on his face as well.

There was a pause. Do-si-do was starting to think Commander Sixes just liked the drama they created. In fact, judging by how he had yet to show his face and was wearing all black armor, it seemed Commander Death was fond of the dramatic in a few ways. “In theory, sure.”

“Yes! Oh, fantastic,” Sevenset went on, rubbing his hands together. “You can tell us where they’re stationed--”

“If they’re still alive,” Trees added in. He had a point.

“--and then we can find them!”

The commander’s helmet tilted, his expression hidden. “I’m guessing Fox declined membership,” he said.

Do-si-do snorted a gain, and Trees and Loops both smiled. They all remembered Sevenset’s story of trying to recruit Commander Fox to be number ten for their little group.

“If by ‘declined membership’ you mean, ‘shipped me out to Kamino for someone else to deal with,’ then yes,” Sevenset answered. “He declined.”

“Maybe you can ask him,” Loops said.

“Hey, yeah--”

“No.” The commander’s tone didn’t leave much room for argument, but that had never stopped Sevenset a day in his life, and Do-si-do was more than content to sit back and enjoy the show.

“But you’re his big brother, right? You can drag him into things--”

“I’m not a damn recruiter, ARC, now stand down.”

The effect was instantaneous. They all recognized a CO’s “talk back and you’ll be cleaning ‘freshers for the next month” voice. Combined with Commander Sixes’ already awe-inspiring reputation, his order shut them all up. Trees once again straightened to attention, and this time they all joined him, even Sevenset.

“Understood, sir,” he replied. Do-si-do could see the new training in him now. Sevenset wouldn’t be an ARC if he didn’t know when to drop the comic act, but the speed and discipline with which he’d done so just now was different.

The commander waited a second or two, then he nodded once. “At ease.”

They relaxed, mostly. It was hard to ignore the mood shift that had taken place. As cool as it was having a commander in the club… there were some obvious issues that needed addressing if this was going to remain a “just for fun” place.

Do-si-do found himself as the one breaking the uneasy silence. “But… you can help us find where the others are stationed, right, sir?”

The commander’s helmet dipped. “Yeah, I can do that.”

“Can you do that… now?” Sevenset ventured.

The commander’s helmet tilted to one side, and it looked like he sighed. “Fine.” The others perked up. “But, I can only find their assignments, not their current locations.”

“We can work with that,” Do-si-do agreed, and the others nodded along. “Who’s writing this down?”

“I can!” Sevenset volunteered.

Trees reminded him, “Your handwriting is entirely illegible. Even to you.”

“Yes, but now I have a datapad. I can type all my notes.”

“I’m just going to start talking if you boys don’t figure it out,” the commander warned.

“Okay, okay, fine, Trees can copy it.”

Trees’ organization skills would always beat out Sevenset’s anyway. Maybe ARC training had fixed that, though. Trees shifted around, grabbing what he needed, then looked up and nodded when he was ready.

The commander’s helmet tipped down to look at something--presumably a datapad--as he spoke. “CT-4444 is with the Marines under Bacara. Probably has limited contact availability depending on the mission. Infrequent leave.” Do-si-do’s eyebrows raised, and he glanced at Sevenset and Loops. They hadn’t been expecting a tactical rundown of each person. But… they wouldn’t complain. “CT-27-5555 is the only ‘fives’ trooper in the GAR. He’s one of Rex’s freaks, so good luck getting your hands on him.”

“That’s the five-oh-first, right?” Loops asked. “Torrent, or something?”

“Yeah. Rex’s freaks. I’m sure he’ll fit right in.” Do-si-do smirked. He probably would. “And CT-9999 is with Ghost Company in the two-twelfth. Pretty decent chance he and number five have run missions together. Or will in the future, anyway.”

“Is there a CT-0000?” Loops wanted to know.

“What about eleven-eleven?” Sevenset added.

The commander glanced up at them, then back to his materials. “Yeah, the one-eighteenth has a CT-0000. Didn’t find an eleven-eleven, though.”

Do-si-do frowned. “Not even a casualty report?”

“No.”

“But… he could still be on Kamino, right?” Trees said. “Cadets don’t show up in the main database until they graduate and deploy.”

The commander nodded. “He could be a cadet.”

“I could look,” Sevenset offered. “I mean. I live here now, so I should be able to find out if a CT-1111 exists. It’ll just take a bit longer.”

“Yeah, we’ll figure it out,” Do-si-do nodded. “In the meantime,” he continued, leaning forward, “who’re we going after first?”

Ta-daaa!! @blsmjoon @nintendolover13-ts4 (I couldn’t tag your side blog sorry) @alamogirl80 (idk why I can’t tag you either ;-;) @23-bears @theultimatesandwich

#my writing #my fanfic #clone ocs #number lads #numbers gang #tcw fanfic #sixes my beloved #I love how min started that tag #and like #three other people have started using it #sixes bein all mysterious oooo #not taking off his helmet ooooo #I finished this #then realized #I've put sevenset and fives #right in the battle of kamino #WHOOPS #lol

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rens-room · 4 years ago

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SK8 thoughts (episode by episode commentary version):

This is so disorganized because I had to start over like three times, Tumblr kept eating my drafts.

Welcome to the madness I guess.

Why does this show have such clean animation?? like I thought this was gonna be a meme show? but the animation is actually nice.

Reki looks like Soul Evans crossed with Lavi or Reno.

How old is this kid?? Why is he taking on a wholeass adult? in a skateboarding race??!!

oh, we are breaking out the named attacks.

Why do I only log into Funimation for shows like this? last time it was hypnosismic.

Based on the OP, Cherry is my favorite.

spotted: blue Hisoka!! I hate it here!

ok, I lied. Langa might be my fave.

they really said “cool transfer student” and “main character sits in the back row by the windows” tropes.

He has blue-purple converse and I need them.

Langa is me on a skateboard- immediately falls off.

Cherry is so pretty I can't!

sketchy ass skateboarding competition where you need a special pass to get in.

Shadow...scares me.

plot armor can’t protect your DUCK-TAPED FEET TO A SKATEBOARD!!!

OMF YOU’RE A SNOWBOARDER CALLING IT NOW!!!

^ I need y’all to know, I figured this out literally seconds before it was confirmed on-screen. That is how bad I am at picking up foreshadowing clues.

your villain intro can’t involve dramatic classical music, I won’t take you seriously.

ok so is everyone pretty?? is that what I’m gonna have to live with?

WHO GAVE THIS SHOW PERMISSION TO HAVE SUCH GOOD ANIMATION AND CUTE CHARACTER DESIGNS FUCK NOW I HAVE TO TAKE IT SERIOUSLY!!

red/blue shippers come get y’alls juice (technically Langa’s hair is more silver than blue but he fits the ice queen to Reki’s fiery enthusiasm on a superficial level).

Canada lol.

oop called the inability to stop problem too.

ma’am, I hate to be the one to tell you but your son accidentally joined an underground skateboarding cult.

get you a friend who’s willing to make you a custom skateboard.

dead dad disease strikes again.

ok, I get massive catboy vibes from Miya. he screams catboy with the arrogance, god complex, and uhhhh literal cat ears on his skating outfit.

I guess there are no rules for modifying boards because Langa would totally be breaking all of them.

Langa noooooooo Adam is obviously a creep!

I just want to know how the creator got around the HxH trademark to make Adam because he’s just as creepy as the original.

when you lose in episode one and are reduced to being a taxi for the rest of the show.

matador of love...who’s attracted to potential probably + a really extra hairstyle and costume + Spanish sounding theme music = blue Hisoka.

oh no the blood thing and the tongue thing and the “main course” thing.

“love hug” say less, please say less and leave the underage boys alone!

instead of having a loli they made a shota cat boy character. it’s Miya.

“please” “please” “blackmail threat”

Shadow vs Shadow’s car. two very different aesthetics.

I appreciate that everyone fails a little bit with skateboarding, makes it more realistic.

The palm trees in the ED are Langa and Reki btw.

Adam is so creepppyy!

hi, I am here to say that matchablossom has consumed my soul and I am a devout Joe and Cherry shipper now.

^ evidence: Cherry showing up and invading Joe’s workplace. the bickering. the childhood friends status.

WHY WOULD YOU ACCEPT THE ROSES!! HE’S A CREEP!

so uhhhhh Hisoka Spanish music intensifies. but on skateboards this time.

What kind of cop-out is having literal cops show up during the race?!

THERE’S GONNA BE A BEACH EPISODE!!!

found family in action: sighted waiting in the hospital for Reki after he raced Adam.

fellas is it gay to have nightmares about your best friend in class? asking for Reki.

IT’S NOT A DATE HE'S A MINOR AND YOU’RE HARASSING HIM AND PLANNING ON HURTING HIM!!

What is this fight club? the first rule of S is we don’t talk about S?

shows up uninvited to an Italian restaurant. attempts to order ramen for the kids you adopted.

Reki and Langa’s communication and acceptance of each other’s wishes. top tier. let them be happy please.

secretary-kun is treated so weirdly by Adam.

red carpet + red roses + red cape = one dramatic entrance

please don’t touch the underage boy, please don’t touch the literal minor, TAKE YOUR HANDS OFF OF THE CHILD!!!

What is up with Adam's eyes and the neon lights?

How much power does Adam have to control the police??!!

HOT SPRINGS AND BEACH? SIGN ME THE FUCK UP!

ok, so Shadow really did adopt all these children.

a fun “coincidence” that everyone’s on the same ship.

MIYA FUCKIN SHIPS MATCHABLOSSOM OMG “DAD” “MOM” THE SPARKLY PAN UP ON CHERRY AND JOE’S BLUSH AHHHHHHH!!!

Family dinner! paid for by the totally not married couple inviting other people for free food.

Langa offering to protect Reki! and both of them being adorable in general.

do not forget your injured friend! especially if he’s scared of ghosts!

what even was episode 6... it started really cute with the beach, we got a hot springs thing...and then mud masks??

episode 6 fed the fandom so fucking well like adorable anime sparkles, ship content, wholesome beach fun.

^ but why did you have to tear us down immediately after?

so yes this is probably the turning point as Reki is starting to get in his own head and Adam is making his moves but eh it was a great beach episode.

Adam is a creep. He is blue Hisoka on a skateboard and none of those things are ok. please stop touching the underage boys. (how on earth do you skate like that?? I can’t keep my balance on solid ground let alone dipping another person while accelerating forward).

Cherry and Joe. matchablossom. I ship it. (every time they fight on screen: they’re married, your honor).

Cherry is literally so many of my favorite character attributes together ahhhhhhhh.

roses. so many roses. do not accept the roses.

episode 7 starts off so well but I read spoilers you can’t fool me! (please don’t break my heart).

^ update: episode 7 is breaking my heart. Reki is a little too relatable ya know.

rip to secretary-kun. Adam stop being weird with your assistant.

parachuting down from a helicopter? Adam this is a bit much even for you. (but the part where Cherry isn’t even surprised at this lol).

Adam...has to use hair extensions because his hair is so fluffy in his skating persona but there’s not enough of it normally to have that much volume.

friendship breakup in the rain. listen, these hurt me more than actual breakups in shows. like I don’t like the end of HxH because the main four characters all go separate ways.

I need more backstory with Cherry, Joe, and Adam.

Adam isn’t like your average antagonist, he has Aunt issues. (why can’t he be normal and have daddy or mommy issues??).

hahahaha Miya’s face! when Adam explained that he loved his victims.

It is really interesting that all of the characters are introduced as pretty one-dimensional but the show is doing the best it can to flesh them out and add backstory. I feel like most 12 episode shows don’t bother as much so this is nice.

CARLA CAN CHANGE THE BOARD SHAPE AND SIZE WHAT!!??

Tadashi is a snake in the best way possible. gotta love the secretary plot points.

Who the hell is Harry??

can Joe drop his workout routine because he was skinny in high school, so how did he get buff?

Joe out here (trying) to fix friendships because he’s actually super observant and understands how people work.

how Joe and Cherry always find each other/know where the other person is.

episode 9 WTF!!! is that allowed?! I feel like that shouldn’t have been allowed, Adam wtf.

you know that feeling when your ex-friend (cough crush cough) hits you in the face with their skateboard? no. me neither, let’s ask Cherry how it feels.

fellas is it gay to pour a glass of wine for your sleeping friend?

My friend pointed out that “girl all the bad guys want” by bowling for soup is a pretty accurate rep of Joe pining for Cherry who wanted Adam.

I want it on record that I considered Adam and Cherry having a past (as more of a crack ship than anything else) before episode 9.

THE PALM TREES IN THE ED ARE LANGA AND REKI AND NOW I WANNA SUE FOR EMOTIONAL DAMAGE PLEASE STOP MAKING ME LOOK AT THEM.

imagine your crush from seven years ago rejecting you with a skateboard to the face.

Looking back, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more informative opening for an anime in my life. The whole plot is there basically.

The shortcut? Not physically possible wtf. Actually, the entire race is verging into only possible in anime territory

Joe’s fucking mullet. Dude, did you grow out your hair because Cherry kept his long? We know you had it short once.

Adam why are you dancing on the fucking stage it’s so weird.

So Adam and Cherry both started their beef by running, is there a limit to how long before the skaters have to get on their board? Or is it like a swim meet where you usually take the first couple of strokes underwater before breaking the surface naturally?

Rewatched episode 9 (because I’m illegally streaming episodes before they come out on Funimation- this show is having me revert to bad habits) and you know, the pacing is wack shit. Like the first half is this awesome beef with Langa and Joe, and Reki and Langa get some development, etc. but the second half is all Cherry and Adam. It’s just a really chaotic episode and part of me thinks the ending is going to be just as rushed because they spent too much time (through episode 6) being happy and slowly introducing conflict.

OMG WAIT SHADOW HAS A TONGUE PIERCING!

I can’t handle the recap of Reki and Langa being happy ahhhh.

Happy smiling Reki…..

Got palm-tree-ending-song-trolled by a skateboard, thanks Carla. (yes it hurts more than getting rickrolled).

Omfg, why is this so violent??

Don’t start with Cherry’s murder wtf I was in enough pain the first two times I watched it.

AHHHHH THE BLOND BITCH!!! WHO ARE YOU??

Sk8 really said, “Cherry was only the beginning” and then went after Shadow and Reki.

How does the manager know Cherry and Joe? Is he also an S skater??!!

So does everyone like live in that hospital now? Do the staff recognize “ah yes the colorful-haired skaters are back again”?

I SWEAR TO GOD IF ONE MORE PERSON ENDS UP HOSPITALIZED (that isn’t Adam of course) I WILL SUE FOR EMOTIONAL DAMAGE!!!

Secretary-kun, how much time have you spent in love hotels??

Funimation doesn’t use the oxford comma and I think that’s all I need to say on why I don’t like Funimation.

I think I speak for everyone when I say OH THANK YOU GOD I WAS GETTING SCARED AT THE 6 MINUTE MARK!

Langa laughing.

Adam is evil but that’s nothing new. I wish he would keep his creepy pedophile fingers off Reki but whatever.

ok dancing Adam, not a good start.

bitch this ain’t a wedding he’s a minor so fuck off!

Y'ALL I STAYED SPOILER-FREE TO WATCH THIS EPISODE WITHOUT ANY FILTERED INFO AFTER WATCHING BL DRAMAS (and day drinking) FROM 3-11 pm. The commitment I have for this show is only made more ironic by the fact I did not want to get attached.

Reki working on/making another board for Langa is so cute.

Cherry and Joe driving/escorting the kids to S is so sweet.

Adam wtf is this course. WHY IS THERE A GRAVESTONE??!!

I will admit everyone in this show is really committed to their aesthetics.

Adam, why the death theme?

oh shit, I like the music during the race.

don’t bring the zone into this, I already rewatched Kuroko no Basket over the winter.

I cannot watch someone die!! this was supposed to be a fun cute little sports anime. what the fuck is going on?!

I love how the message of this show is that you are supposed to have fun and enjoy things with other people. the mindset of sports/hobbies/anything that isn’t for work or profit makes people think they have to be the best and that’s not a healthy mentality sometimes.

LANGA’S DAD??!!

did- did they knock each other out? midair collision for “fun”?

I personally do not desire redemption for Adam, but I guess that’s a nice message or whatever.

HE WON!!! (oh thank god).

LANGA JUMP HUGGING REKI GIVES ME LIFE THESE TWO ARE SO CUTE!

sk8 fam celebration!! bruh these characters are so cute.

Adam did not need to crash land that roof party.

family screen time!!

So did Langa’s dad die snowboarding or…?

I would kill for all the ending theme clips to be fully animated in an ova or something.

UM?! Can Adam maybe not call Tadashi a dog? not to kinkshame but that part is still weird.

so the weird police lady’s story/investigation went nowhere and that’s really sad.

the serious review

#sk8 the infinity #joe sk8 #adam sk8 #cherry sk8 #langa hasegawa #reki kyan #kojiro nanjo #kaoru sakurayashiki #shindo ainosuke #tadashi kikuchi #hiromi higa #miya chinen #miya sk8 #shadow sk8 #anime thoughts #rens ruminations #winter 2020 #spring 2021

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legionofpotatoes · 4 years ago

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alright here’s ma thoughts on that flick I mentioned

we hatewatched a*my of the dead because we were CONVINCED “zombies in las vegas” would be an impossible concept to screw up, but in so assuming we obviously invoked a holy wager with the universe and got reminded, once again, that hoping for improvement from someone who’s dependably put out bad art is never a wise choice 😐

but we were honestly kinda roped in by the marketing??? and expected a goofy fast-paced flick with the odd traditional undead metaphor thrown in, framing some sort of relationship drama maybe or hell even nothing at all! we’d have taken pure indulgent storytelling, idk italian job with zombies in las vegas, I don’t know fucking anything but??? whatever this was???? spoilers below for it is time for One Of My Rants

I mean the main reason I really want to write all this and complain. this film here probably has the most unappealing cinematography I have ever experienced in my life and that is saying something. who the fuck signed off on that CONSTANT shallow-ass depth of field that imprisons your eyeline and turns every shot into bokeh paste???? and I mean every shot almost!!!! I promise if you think I am overreacting just throw a dart at the seek bar and watch twenty seconds from wherever it lands. it is horrifying to look at. at least it gave my girlfriend a good visual shorthand for what it’s like when I lose my glasses

why was sean spicer in this movie. did they pay him to be here. was sean spicer paid hollywood money for his scene in this film because fuck everyone who was involved in that decision

the legitimately baffling hints at the extraterrestrial origins of the infection that went absolutely nowhere and had no dramatic or plot-level bearing. we love to see the franchise sprouts fellas

yet another big budget waste of everything hiroyuki sanada has to offer. and bautista too I guess? I like him but man was this an odd career move

what was the crux of his conflict/resolution with his daughter btw. I understand it was rooted in miscommunication over their forms of grief irt mom but uhh… it was all rather clunky and didn’t land for me. I tried I really tried to buy in but something was wrong fundamentally with the groundwork there, it did not click and their catharsis felt unearned. I know there’s massive amounts of tragic baggage being projected there from the author so I’m not slapping any judgment down really;

but again it would be an easy thing to wave off if they just had a vibrant cast of lovable simpletons with good chemistry and the kinetic sense of plotting the trailers promised (and this premise never discounts good drama, either). but instead it was just two and a half (!) hours of meandering into situations the filmmaking instincts had no idea how to flow in and out of

to wit. I know talking about “bad pacing” is associated with armchair bullshit but consider the example of the scene were dieter does an out of nowhere little dance after childishly screaming but then still-killing a zombie, with the film framing this as a micro character triumph, and not a second later the bg soundtrack instantly fades into an orchestral score dramatizing a nearby mcguffin reveal, completely 180 degreeing the tone without a semblance of deft insert shot stitching or even I dont know a fucking jump cut maybe. now imagine this whiplash for 2.5 hrs uninterrupted

I will keep complaining about the length yeah because this was not a story requiring this much real estate to be told. Uhh in my humble and personal opinion, of course

[man sees zombie tiger] “this is crossing the line!” you can in fact write dialogue that is not utter nonsense that falls apart once you drill down its single fickle layer of referential meta winking. what line are you talking about. you have rules in this insane situation you’re in? total nitpick moment I know but it got burned in my brain for some reason. like a microcosm of the mismanaged dramatic instincts paired with weird writing that dots this movie. I am sure the director calls this either satire or genre deconstruction. I am SO sure

tumblr domino meme that goes from “dude getting sucked off while driving” to “entire las vegas literally nuked”

tig notaro is always great to see but once you know she’s been filmed as a separate greenscreen plate months after photography wrapped - cause she had to apparently replace some abusive asshole but that’s a whole other pig not worth fucking - it becomes impossible to unsee her odd detachment from everyone else in the movie lmao. it doesn’t really “ruin” anything on its lonesome but it is hard to unsee

why. was. sean. spicer. in. this. movie

a very simple key ingredient missing from fully turning lip service sympathy for main uruk hai dude into actual empathy that would generate meaningful conflict with hero family would be to spend a bit more time articulating what he internally wanted the most. because he was obviously trying to do something here with pointed agenda. a family, to have kids, build a caste system, save his wife’s head, return to his planet??? all of these could represent the bigger context in his psychology that spurred his vengeance but none of them are dramatically emphasized long enough for you to cheer him on. I’m not asking too much I promise. Articulating interiority of a mute character is pretty doable with deft cinema language, just gotta linger and hold a shot here and there for a few seconds, frame as his POV, donezo. I know this is also one of those like. “who cares” moments but the movie does, very evidently so, in making this guy an actual character. you can kinda piece it together and create a framework of sympathy for him, sure, but then again he ultimately becomes a foil to be killed and not defeated, so. Ehh whatever

quarantine zone stuff was not a wildly childish covid allegory quarantine zone stuff was not a wildly childish covid allegory quarantine zone stuff was n

the rooftop helicopter fakout at the end was such an ass-backwards, manufactured moment of what could be a simple setup/payoff it just pissed me off??? you gain nothing by giving sad dad five seconds of pointless crisis that flips right back to previous status quo ANYWAY, except for a weaksauce waste of runtime, which could be used instead to get inside notaro’s head and actually SHOW the remorse form as she took off, literally maybe even a frown playing on her face as she’s headed for safety right before we cut back to drax and the kid. just a simple-ass, minimal, momentary setup for what is the most basic filmmaking trick of creating macro catharsis moments. Just???? g o d if you can’t even land that shit why are you even doing any of this

that lil run final pam did was very very charming and super choreographed in a way that was the tiiiniest bit overdone

the whole intro with the simul-backstories and posing with family photos was just… oddly motivated. what was the goal? “here’s what we’re fighting for” vignettes? why? it’s not a functional setup in that vein. what was all that

also I am sorry if this is insensitive but the reasons most characters end up articulating to justify going back into the hell that destroyed their lives makes them sound seriously insane

I dont like complaining about CGI (honestly) but so much of it in modern movies can achieve higher fidelity if the animation is simply subdued. Do not overengineer and over-apply 2D cell methodologies and kinematics to each tiny twitch and movement in a hyper 3D model and I promise you. it will look a thousand times more natural. look at thanos in those last two movies. your rendering and detail are absolutely perfect with the tiger you just have to let stuff sit instead of constantly simulating swaying hair strands and firing off all facial muscles at once. great moment at one point where makeup zombie horse and CG zombie tiger are both in one shot together and just by unnecessary amounts of movement alone you can tell who doesn’t belong. again; detail, rendering, compositing, lighting, all picture-perfect; but y’all just gotta let the animation breathe sometimes, and chill it out

plot holes don’t really matter to me but it was kinda funny how lilly decided not to mention the enormous wrinkle in intel pertaining to an actual territorial tribe of intelligent zombies that require human offerings to let you pass, just so that reveal could play out in real time through the joyous punishment of the cartoonishly misogynistic dude

total chad move for mister uruk hai and final pam to rule from a rusted swimming pool complex

the ending with vanderohe oh my god. with the. cash stacks at the airport register. and specifically them working in his favor. that is literally something you do to get arrested under suspicion of theft. it was almost played for laughs and I respect that. coulda been goofier. make these movies goofy ya dorks

anyway, weird, weird movie. bad marketing. message unclear (something something sins of the father???), baffling editing instincts, literal worst-looking cinematography I ever laid eyes upon. Confidently dying on that last hill

#text #long post #aotd spoilers #aotd critical

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nellie-elizabeth · 4 years ago

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Supernatural: Inherit the Earth (15x19)

That was somehow simultaneously a crowded mess, and a complete anticlimax. I'm literally just like... super confused and afraid about what the finale is going to be now.

Cons:

Sam's the dog person. That's part of canon. I liked the moment when Dean found the dog, or whatever, but I wish Sam had gotten a moment with the puppy too, before Chuck took it away. A small thing, but one of those typical wrong details in Buckleming episodes, where it just honestly doesn't seem like they know the characters very well.

Lucifer and Michael have a fight in the Bunker and Michael takes Lucifer out really, really easily. So like. Remember when the first five seasons of the show were the buildup to the Apocalypse, and Sam sacrificed himself for an eternity in Lucifer's Cage to stop it from happening? Apparently a fight between the two archangels is just a bit of fisticuffs, nothing to get worked up about. That annoyed me. But I guess consistency has never been something this show has cared much about...

Also just... Lucifer in general, coming back for like five minutes so he can mug at the camera and then be unceremoniously killed? Here's the thing: we had Billie as Death, and she hated them but maybe it would have been interesting to see her and the boys team up to figure out Chuck's ending... but instead, she's gone, Lucifer gets a pointless return, provides us with another Death, who is there for two seconds, says a couple of vaguely funny lines, and then dies... and we still never find out what's in the book.

The fight with Chuck was so badly edited! It was so weird to see him just wail on Sam and Dean, and repeated shots of him hitting them, and them getting up, while he kept saying "okay fellas, enough, please stay down" over and over again. Given that the whole "erasing the people from the world" thing was so much like Infinity War, I kept comparing this fight with God to the climax of Endgame. In that instance, you have a small group of intrepid fighters going up against a big bad evil, and then just at the moment when they're run down and helpless, the whole crowd of friends returns and joins in the fight. Instead of that, it's just Jack showing up and absorbing God's powers, and then they leave him begging on the beach. Not a bad ending for Chuck, which I'll get to in a moment, but the epic-ness was seriously missing from this final showdown.

So, when Jack returned the world to its normal state, did he bring back all of their friends, too? I want to believe this was something that Covid took away from them, where instead of seeing shots of Charlie and her girlfriend, of Donna, Jody, the girls, Bobby, Eileen, they were forced to use stock footage of just random people around the world returning. Would have been cooler to see the epic return... and also super weird that Sam and Dean sit quietly in the bunker talking about free will, and we don't see Sam pull out his phone and call his girlfriend, like... I get not wanting to muddy the ending of the episode with a lot of fallout stuff, and I'm sure we'll get that next week? Like, I hope, anyway? But as it stood for this hour of television, it was super weird to me that the boys didn't immediately want to check on all of their friends to make sure everyone had returned from the dead.

Jack becoming the new God is actually a totally appropriate ending, people were speculating that he'd be the new God or Death or Empty, or some cosmic entity, anyway... and this honestly felt very fitting... BUT, I will say that there are two really, really stupid things about it. One, his "I'm everything and everywhere now" speech was super cheesy... "I'm in the air and the rocks and every drop of rain" or whatever. Such a cliche, I was almost painfully embarrassed listening to him. I honestly would have preferred less is more, here. Like, what if he'd said the stuff about how humans can be their best when they need to be, that was a good line... and then Sam says "what if we want to see you? Grab a beer?" And Jack just says "I'm around" and then vanishes, leaving it vague? I think the idea of a hands-off deity is perfect, of course... makes sense for the "free will wins the day" ending we've got going here, but I didn't think stating it outright was the best move.

The second reason Jack becoming God was rendered kind of comedically awful in the way it happened is... well, elephant in the room, let's talk about how Cas was handled in this episode.

Here's a quote from last week's review:

"I'm worried that Cas dying is gonna get swallowed up with everyone dying and not get its due, thus making the confession completely isolated. Like, here you go, gays, have this one scene, which, in isolation is quite heartfelt from Cas' perspective, but can be carefully boxed up and not touched for the last two hours of the show. If they don't want to touch on how this would affect Dean specifically, they don't have to. He can be generally angsty and sad about Cas, but they could get away with never bringing it up again, and that is some grade-A level bullshit right there, my friends."

And... yeah. Look, I know there are people on Tumblr right now saying that this episode being the "brothers only" ending means that next week we'll get Cas back and Dean will confess his love or whatever... but y'all, it's not going to happen. I'm sorry. I'd love to be wrong. If I'm wrong, I will gladly eat crow and celebrate along with the rest of you, but I just... I've been burned before. I know what's going on here, and it's not what you think it is.

Dean was undeniably devastated in this episode. We see him drinking to excess, falling asleep on the floor, grasping onto tiny moments of joy like with the dog and then being furious and upset when they fall through. But that devastation was not textually about Cas specifically. Sure, there were moments, like him telling God to bring everything back, and then namedropping Cas specifically. Or the way he ran up the stairs when Cas' voice was on the phone. But what I'm saying is? Those are crumbs, there for those of us who care to gobble up, easily ignored and subsumed by the larger losses the boys are suffering. Sam is devastated too, guys. About his girlfriend, about Charlie, about Donna, and Jody, etc. etc. etc. Who's to say their grief is any different from one another, even though they're handling it with different coping mechanisms? The "I love you" wasn't even on the "previously on".

Like. There's a universe where Dean does get a moment of Cas-related catharsis in the finale, even though Misha's not coming back. Maybe he has a private moment to grieve just for him, to contemplate that specific loss. But I'm telling you: I don't care if an openly gay man wrote 15x18, I don't care that Misha found it moving. The bottom line is, Cas confessing his love for Dean was the moment of catharsis the show was willing to offer us. We ain't getting much else.

So going back to Jack, why on earth does nobody suggest that maybe when he's popping the rest of the world back to the way it's supposed to be, he also brings Cas back? This is what I'm talking about with contrived sacrifices. Last week, they could have written a way for Dean to get out of that scrape without Cas dying. And this week, Jack's determination to be a "hands-off" God is not enough to explain why he wouldn't restore his father Castiel from the Empty. Especially since Chuck brought Lucifer back from the Empty, proving that God can do that. Even though that contradicts earlier lore but whatever. The point is, I'm saying it's sloppy. Cas' death, Cas staying dead, does not feel like an earned inevitability to me. I'm prepared to eat my words if they bring him back in the finale, but even if that happens (which it won't), he's not going to be smooching Dean Winchester on the mouth, y'all. He's just not.

So then that ending. "Finally free," says Dean, completely unaware that he's echoing the theme from the end of season five but making it hopeful now for some reason? And that end montage felt like an ending 100%, and I won't say it was bad to see it, see all the memories, the characters... I mean, Charlie dancing in the elevator, getting glimpses of Ellen and Jo, Bobby, Crowley... I'm not going to complain about that, it was honestly quite fun, but it also felt extremely anticlimactic and gave us no sense of where the characters are going to go from here. And yes, I know we have an episode next week, it's just...

Here's the thing I'm scared of, and I'm going to go ahead and put it here in the "cons" section because I don't know where it belongs yet. Despite my complaints about this episode, thematically there was one thing it got right: the answer to defeating Chuck wasn't destined, it wasn't in a book of preordained endings. They had to come up with it by themselves, using the tools at their disposal, and they won, and they get free will now, they get the release from having someone else tell their story. Great. So... what does that leave us next week?

As mentioned above, I really don't think the final 43 minutes is going to be an epic gay love story where Dean fights to get Cas back, I really don't. That leaves us two options: either a tepid re-tread of the themes already established, an epilogue of sorts where we just get to see a life in the day, a new normal for the boys. I wouldn't be furious about this, but I also think it won't really feel like closure for me. They just keep hunting? They keep saving people? That's fine, I guess, but they can't really walk back the fact that God is their son, can they? When they die the next time, do they go to the Empty? Who is Death, now? Are Heaven and Hell okay? Are we meant to be convinced that nothing will ever come back to bite them in the ass, they'll live long lives, and a benevolent afterlife is waiting for them when it's over? I'm not convinced I believe in things being that simple, so it sort of seems like the show would end by saying "okay, and more of the same."

The second possibility is worse, though, that being a total status-quo shift, like the end comes and the Empty is after them and they have to become the new Death and Empty as some speculated, or some wild harebrained plot twist gets thrown in at the last second and undoes the actual good parts of the theme established here. I hope for the first, but I don't know that it'll make me happy, to be quite honest. I really don't want it to feel this way, but Cas being gone is the big elephant in the room, for me. It truly is.

Pros:

I did like the earlier parts of the episode, the eeriness and the helplessness of them being alone. Continuing with the Avengers comparisons, it was very similar to the long, slow opening to Endgame, where we see a lot of grief, a lot of helplessness, an lot of directionless moping. That felt appropriate and it made it all the more invigorating when Michael showed up, giving us a spark of direction in which to move.

While I thought the fight with Chuck was edited really strangely and didn't work for me, I did like this ending for Chuck. Very much like the end of Avatar: The Last Airbender. Chuck doesn't die, which he honestly would have found a satisfying, creative ending for his story. Instead, he gets to live on as a normal human, sans powers, and be forgotten. Brutal and appropriate! It ties back into the free will thing. Chuck can do whatever he wants with his remaining time, but he can't steal other people's choices from them any longer. It's the black and the white, the good and the bad, of being just... human. Which ties in with Sam and Dean being more or less hopeful about their outlook moving forward. (God, I'm so fucking scared they're going to screw up the few things I liked about this episode in next week's finales.)

Like I said, I did find Jack becoming God an appropriate ending for him as a character. It's the right type of bittersweet: he's there, and we can imagine that in the future, he does go visit Sam and Dean for a beer. Or maybe he doesn't, and that's okay too. Knowing he's at peace, knowing he's benevolent, and that he'll do the best he can for the people of the world(s). It's nice, a comforting deity instead of a manipulative overlord. And the fact that his benevolence and kindness and compassion are born out of a human mother, and two human fathers, and an angel who embraced humanity with everything in himself... instead of from Lucifer, who tried to create him in his image? Well, that's a lovely resolution for a character that became a surprising favorite over the years.

As I think I mentioned last week, I'm willing to let this show manipulate my emotions here at the end, when it can manage to do so. So yeah, of course I loved that Cas and Jack's names are added to the table along with SW, DW, and MW. Obviously that's adorable as hell. And as I said, the montage worked for me, it was certainly quite lovely. I just... like I said at the start of this, I'm just frankly terrified of what's coming next week.

I mean, here's the thing, I want an ending that honors Sam and Dean as the protagonists of this show, but I want it where they live in the bunker, and Eileen and returned-from-the-dead-Castiel live with them as their partners. If someone told me I couldn't change a thing about what's happened so far, but I could decide how the last episode went, that's how I'd end it. Showing a network of hunters getting support and able to live more stable, reasonable lives while still doing a dangerous job. Sam embracing his intellectual prowess and running things from the bunker, Dean and Cas going out on the road, Sam and Eileen going out on the road, or any combination therein. Jack watching over them benevolently from above. Jody and Donna and the girls living their best lives. Kaia and Claire as a couple, onscreen. A glimpse of a more stable afterlife, now that Jack is there to run things, the confirmation of a peaceful ending whenever our human protagonists do finally shuffle off this mortal coil. Peace, but change, too.

I just don't believe that's what we're getting. I can't believe it, and that makes me really frightened for what comes next week. I'm prepared to be pissed off. Quite frankly, I'm expecting it.

6/10

#review #supernatural #supernatural review #spn 15x19 #spn

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athingthatwantsvirginia · 5 years ago

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California’s Living Dead

PART TWENTY-ONE OF THE DO YOU SEE HER FACE? SERIES

Pairing: Jess Mariano x Original Character (Ella Stevens)

Warnings: some smoking, a bit more angst here fellas, plentiful pop culture references, the original post of this got deleted somehow so I’m reposting it sorry guys idk anything about tumblr or anything really

Word Count: 4.6K

Summary: Half a year passes for Ella and Jess.

The key zipped back and forth across the chain of Ella’s necklace, clutched in her shaky hands. Cloudy afternoon light shone down on her, gray and gloomy. Cool, humid breezes blew past her, and she knew a thunderstorm was coming. As she trudged into the diner, she made a pointed effort to stare down at her converse. A Sunday afternoon lull left the place less crowded than it would have been were she scheduled for the morning. Instead, she had woken up with a headache and an urge to call Luke’s, but decided against it. She knew Jess wouldn’t be able to hide the cut on his cheek or the bruising on his jaw from his uncle. If anyone picked up, it was bound to be in the middle of an argument, and she didn’t need any more reason to bite her nails until they bled.

Slipping behind the counter, she noticed the way Luke’s eyes widened at the sight of her. As though he hadn’t been expecting her to show up. Salty air hung around them as Caesar fried up some burgers in the back, a sizzling hiss in everyones’ ears. Tying her apron around her hips, she frowned at him and furrowed her brows.

“Something wrong?” she asked flatly.

“Did you know about Jess?” Luke crossed his arms over his chest, tilting his head at her.

Ella shrugged, unsure of whether the cat had yet been fully let out of the bag. “What about him?”

Sighing heavily, Luke brushed past her and gestured for her to follow him into the stock room. Rolling her eyes at his dramatics, she went with him. Apparently it couldn’t just be another day at the office. She wondered in the back of her mind where Jess was, but knew it was more than likely he was off somewhere with his nose back in Dead Souls, or escaping with another shift at Walmart. Biding time before he had to let Luke know what happened.

“I’m not stupid, Ella,” Luke said.

Nodding slowly, Ella bit the inside of her cheek and cast her eyes back down to her shoes. “I know. I know you’re not. Look, I didn’t know about school. He only told me last night, alright?”

“And did he tell you where he was planning on going?”

Immediately, she turned her head up to face him again. “What do you mean?”

“This morning, I got a call from Kyle’s parents, about Jess and Dean tearing up their place-”

“Dean sucker-punched him,” Ella interjected.

Luke rolled his eyes. “Nice excuse. I had to write the kid’s father a check! And Jess didn’t even apologize. Instead, he let me know he’s not graduating, and he’s not going back! And we had an agreement!”

Again, she nodded slowly, fiddling with her necklace. “I know. So...you kicked him out?”

“Not exactly. We hadn’t really talked it out all the way. I went out to get some stock, and an hour later, I come back and he’s just gone!” Luke exclaimed, exasperated.

“What do you mean gone?”

“All his stuff, I mean everything he could fit in that nasty duffel of his, he took it. No message, nothing!” Luke watched Ella’s expression fall and the color drain from her cheeks, and he immediately regretted letting all the information slip out in an angry rant the way he had.

Searching the room to focus on anything but Luke’s face, she shook her head to herself, attempting to conceal the way her stomach began doing anxious flips. No message, nothing. Overnight. Gone. “Well...did you know his dad was here? Would he try to go after him?”

Luke sighed again. “Yeah. I told him not to go near Jess, but-”

“You knew before Jess? You didn’t tell him his dad was here?” Ella interrupted, her voice growing tense.

“Look, Ella, it’s more complicated than that. I saw him here last Wednesday. I found his hotel, told him it’d be better to stay away. The guy’s a nobody-”

“Yeah, well, he’s a nobody Jess has been waiting to meet his whole life!” In all her time knowing Luke, Ella had never yelled at him. Not that he was a stranger to her temper. He’d seen it directed at rude customers, mainly Taylor, many times. But never had he faced the fire in her eyes, or the crestfallen look she had. She swallowed thickly. “Jesus. I mean...last night he seemed upset, but not enough to think his father was worth going after. Fuck!”

Soon, she was mostly speaking to herself, pinching the bridge of her nose. Luke softened his gaze and ran his nervous palms over his flannel. He brought a hand to Ella’s shoulder so she would meet his eyes again.

“Ella, Jess is an adult. He has to make his own choices. I know it’s frustrating-”

She scoffed bitterly. “That’s one word for it.”

“But there’s nothing we can do. We have to just...let him go.”

Teeth clenching down on the inside of her cheek so hard she could taste coppery blood, Ella shook her head again. “Serves me right.”

“Wait here,” Luke said tiredly, disappearing back into the main room.

Confusion painted Ella’s features for more reasons than one. A cold stone of sadness sat heavily in her stomach. It was a fight. A fight she thought they would apologize to each other for eventually, and then get past. She’d truly thought Luke would find a way to let Jess stay, or at least to look after him while he floated around in his new high school dropout reality. Instead, Jess had taken it into his own hands. Cut and run. But she had to give him credit; it was the most decisive move she’d ever seen him make. Worry flooded her mind. Jess was tough, but tough enough to brave the world alone? With a father he knew nothing about? How bad was the guy anyway? Leaving his son when an infant certainly didn’t inspire a lot of confidence in his character. Tears stung in her eyes, but she shook them off as Luke returned.

“He, uh…” Luke began, holding a worn book and a CD out to her, “This had a little sticky note on it. Just said ‘Ella.’ I’m gonna assume they’re yours, I know you guys share...everything.”

As soon as she took them in her hands, Luke left the room, figuring she would need a moment. With the look she had on her face, he doubted she would be back to work for the rest of the day. Her heart skipped when she saw the CD: Turn on the Bright Lights by Interpol. She tried to stop the way her jaw tensed with anger, and her stomach swirled with nostalgia. The book was hers. The last one she had loaned him. She still had one of his Faulkners sitting on her nightstand, halfway finished. Apparently, he wasn’t eager to have it back. Flipping through her beloved copy of To the Lighthouse (she knew it was cliché, but she always considered it Woolf’s best work), she noticed how his notes stopped with only twenty pages left. She was about ready to throw the book across the room, seeing the inconsequential comments and questions he’d written, when she saw a block of his spiky handwriting on the last page:

Eleanor,

I won’t get a chance to finish, but I really liked this. I remember once you told me it was your favorite book of all time, and I have to admit I didn’t think it would live up to the hype. But it did. Lily Briscoe reminds me of you. A badass artist who doesn’t need anyone. I figured you would want this back, since you love it so much.

-Jess

Blowing out a furious breath, Ella blinked back tears for a second time and focused on the anger brewing within her. It was easier than the sadness. She refused to have her heart broken over him. Love didn’t exist. Why be surprised when the universe proves it again and again? Ignoring Luke’s questioning looks, she went out and shoved the CD and book into her bag by the door. The rest of her shift, she spoke in clipped tones and tugged in annoyance at the loose strands of her hair. And Luke decided it was better. They could both be miserable, silently, together.

. . .

A late June morning found Ella back behind the counter, filling coffee cups and twirling around on her sore feet once again. Over the summer, she worked doubles whenever was humanly possible and spent her off nights sketching in the corner table. She tried to keep Jess from her mind, and though it was difficult while spending so much time at Luke’s, a stubbornness in her refused to let her relent. Though Jess was related to Luke by blood, Ella had worked there and been there for so much longer than Jess ever had. Him leaving wasn’t going to destroy her home away from home. She simply wouldn’t let it.

Lorelai and Rory were off on their European backpacking trip, and Lane was toiling away at Bible camp. Pathetic as it was, Ella simply didn’t have anyone to hang out with. She’d always only had a few close friends. Had Jess still been there, she could only imagine what they would spend their time doing. Curled together on his twin bed reading, or arguing about what they were reading, playing cards in her room with Jeff Buckley on the record player, making out to Interpol albums, lunches at the lake, shifts together day in and day out. There had been plans. But she shook them from her brain and got back to work, blowing loose locks away from her face and yelling orders back to Caesar as they came in. Luke was on register, trademark scowl on full display. Soon, he would be away on a cruise with Nicole. Ella hoped it would lift his mood at least a little.

Though, it was a hypocritical thought. She certainly hadn’t been a ray of sunshine the past few weeks, even on her best days, even at graduation. For her speech, she’d read an Anne Sexton poem and connected it to life. She’d looked out at the crowd to see Lane, but not Rory. And not Jess. Her father had cried a little in pride, which surprised her, made her remember the man he had once been. Fiona had cheered and brought her flowers. Adam had smiled and given her a big hug afterwards. But, as much as she tried to revel in the relief and the happiness which surrounded her, there were pieces missing. Big pieces nothing could make up for. Not Jess, even. Her mother. The anniversary of her death had come and gone, and Ella couldn’t believe how long it had been. Time seemed so warped by death. Some days, she felt like she had seen her mother just yesterday. Other days, she thought it odd she had ever had a mother at all. Even Luke and Lorelai had come to watch her speech and cheer her on, but her own mother simply wasn’t there. She’d done her best the whole day to maintain a plastic smile, but that night, she sobbed quietly to Billie Holliday and sketched skeletons.

For just a moment, she took a breath. All the coffees were refilled, the orders were taken. She had no compulsory small talk left to make. She put the pot in the machine and began making a new batch. Leaning against the back counter, she crossed her arms over her chest and sighed. Across the street in the town square, they were setting up for some new, random festival. She could imagine Jess at her side, complaining about all the expensive, meaningless fanfare. A grinch who had been absent at prom, where she stood as a third wheel to Lane and Dave. The phone broke her out of her thoughts, and she went to answer it, but Luke beat her to the receiver.

“Luke’s,” he said flatly. But Ella watched his weary eyes widen in surprise. “Jess? Where are you?”

Instantly, Ella’s heart felt as though it would leap right out of her chest. She went over to stand near Luke, expression questioning. “Is that really Jess?” she asked in a whisper.

He glanced up at her but didn’t answer. “Really? Is he making you pay rent?...Well, be sure to never tell Liz that…”

Ella watched in excruciating anticipation, hearing snippets of the conversation, fragments she couldn’t exactly string together in a narrative. Was it really him? Over a month without a call, and she was beginning to think she would never hear his voice again.

Suddenly, Luke threw another glance Ella’s way, this time anxious. “Yeah, she did…”

“Give me the phone,” Ella said, holding her hand out.

“One second,” Luke muttered, then put his hand over the mouthpiece. “I don’t know if he-”

“I don’t care.” She hadn’t expected grabbing the phone from Luke to be so easy, but perhaps he was too surprised at her sudden movement to resist. Ella paid no mind to the curious eyes of onlookers as she began speaking in hushed, angry tones. “Jess?”

There was a beat of silence.

“I know it’s you, jackass. Where the hell are you?” she demanded.

Jess sighed heavily over the line. “Venice. I’m staying with my dad.”

“Really?” she asked, eyes narrowing. “That guy who walked right out of your life, twice now, without a second thought?”

“Look, Eleanor, it’s-”

“Don’t ‘Eleanor’ me,” she warned, shaking her head. “Actually, y’know what? I don’t care. I don’t give a fuck where you are. All I need you to do is let me know you’re alive. I don’t care how you are, who you’re with, anything. You just need to let me know, every once in a while, that you didn’t starve or end up lying in a ditch somewhere. Be a decent fucking human being, and let the girl with the dead mom know you’re alive.”

“Okay, I-”

“Glad we could sort that out,” she bit out, her tone absolutely venomous. Before he could say anything more, she shoved the phone back into Luke’s hands, and retreated into the stock room. For the rest of the day, Luke let her tear open the cardboard box shipments with an Exacto knife, her face with an ever-present flush as she worked.

. . .

Sat up in bed, Ella sketched the same rose over and over. She was reminded of Georgia O’Keefe, painting her door time and again. Mid-August breeze blew in for her open window, and her back leaned against the purple mural of a goddess she’d taken nearly two months to complete. Her eyes were heavier than they usually would be for eleven o’clock on a Friday. She’d finally completed her first week of classes. And it seemed about as tiring as high school had been. All her classes were interesting, and the radio played some pretty-sounding oldies during her drive back and forth from Hartford, but she was already dreading four more years of drudgery. What was the point of working so hard in high school just to have to go through the whole ordeal again?

Existentialist train of thought aside, she tried to let it fade from her mind, focusing only on her drawing. And the Stevies Nicks record playing. Without realizing it, she sang along with the words in hushed tones under her breath. Her damp waves fell over her shoulder, a comforting smell from her lavender shampoo. She’d wanted to shower in the morning, bright and early before she had to drive to math class. But it was also Adam’s first week of high school, and he’d taken much longer than necessary. Most of the time, they got along pretty well, bonding over a shared inclination towards campy ‘80s movies. But the mornings were an exception to the rule they could always count on. Admittedly, it was often Ella’s own fault. She had the tendency to morph into a grouchy monster right after waking.

She breathed a slow sigh as the phone began to ring, rubbing at her eyes with the heels of her hands. Tossing her sketchbook to the side, she picked it up. “Hello?”

“Hey, Eleanor.” Jess’s voice sounded much the same. It was odd to imagine him all the way across the country, a leather jacket city boy on a hot California beach.

“Still alive, I take it?” she asked.

“No, it’s Night of the Living Dead on the West Coast. Haven’t you seen it on the news?” he quipped.

Rolling her eyes, she let out another small sigh. “Goodbye.”

“Wait, Elle, I know you’re mad-”

She hung up before he could finish the sentence.

. . .

Eighteen years old. She was a legal adult but she didn’t quite believe it. Fiddling with her necklace, she laid on her huge mattress and stared up at the ceiling. There was a yellowed water stain on the popcorned white surface. Once in a blue moon, it would leak. The day brought torrential thunderstorms, perfect for a birthday, and she thought she may have felt a few droplets on her already-wet cheeks.

Fiona was trying; she really was. She always did. She’d made a cake and they’d sung her the song. But it simply wouldn’t be enjoyable until she got out of the house. Celebrating with her family just made her feel like she was in an episode of The Twilight Zone where they’d recast her mother. She was still attempting to make peace with Fiona, though. And if it made her stepmother happy, she was willing to endure an awkward hour of dinner.

She hadn’t allowed herself to start crying until she got in her room, saw the picture of her grandmother holding her mother as a baby in the old frame on her desk. So many dead women. And here she was, always getting older. Pearl Jam spun on the record player, but it did little to lift her spirits. She was examining the set of faux-ruby earrings Fiona and her father had given her, still in their small cardboard box, thinking about how red really wasn’t her color, when the phone ran. Sniffing harshly, she wiped at her cheeks though no one over the receiver would see her.

“Hello?”

“Happy eighteen, Stevens,” Jess’s voice spoke, making her immediately grimace. Almost exactly one year since they’d first kissed. “You go out to legally buy your porn and cigarettes yet?”

“Fuck off, Jess,” she murmured tiredly, shaking her head.

“Look, I just wanted to make sure you were okay, since-”

“Goodbye,” she deadpanned, slamming the phone down and flopping back heavily against her pillows.

. . .

Her history textbook was still open on her desk, and moonlight streamed into her small room. A long evening of studying had seen her call it quits right in the middle of a chapter. She’d collapsed in bed dressed in her jeans and thick sweater, chilled even inside from the October draught. A throb pulsed behind her eyes for what felt like forever before she finally drifted off to sleep. Her eyes were hot inside her skull, achy and dry, when the phone’s ring split through the silence of the night. Clearing her throat, she rolled over in the darkness.

“Hello?” she said groggily.

“Jeez, I thought you laid off the smokes.”

She rolled her eyes at the sound of Jess’s voice, she cleared her throat again and sat up against the mural. “Shut up, jackass, you woke me up.”

“Sorry about that.”

“Still alive?” she asked.

“Seems that way,” he said. It pained her to hear the smirk on his face.

“Well, that’s the goal,” she snarked in a clipped tone before hanging up. As she tried to drift back into dreams, she fiddled with her necklace, tossed and turned.

. . .

She chewed on her eraser, brows furrowed as she read over the same sentence in Paradise Lost for what felt like the millionth time. Mostly, she’d been having fun in her English class. But biblical themes had never been her forté, and a poem which spent so much time recounting the story of Adam and Eve made her want to do nothing but roll her eyes. Her mother had been Christian, though they never went to Church. And she’d heard her father occasionally refer to God or say her mother was in Heaven. But if Ella wasn’t going to believe in luck or love, she certainly wasn’t going to believe in any higher power. None of the religions she’d ever encountered or read about struck her fancy even a little.

The phone rang, and it was almost a welcome break, despite such a sudden interruption. Blinking the dryness from her eyes, she got up from her desk and tucked her hair, falling into her field of vision as she read, behind her ears. She sat cross-legged in the center of her mattress as she picked up, wrapping the phone cord around her fingers absently as she answered.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” Jess answered simply.

She furrowed her brows, glanced over at her small bedside clock. Only four in the afternoon. As much as she wanted to snap angrily and immediately hang up as she had for the past five months, the change in pattern piqued her curiosity too much. And there was something in his voice which felt off to her. “Little early for you, isn't it, Mariano? It should barely be afternoon there.”

“Oh, we’re talking now?” he asked pointedly.

“Gotta keep you on your toes, jackass,” she said, rolling her eyes. “But, fuck it. I’ll go. Leave you to your new dazzling West Coast existence.”

He sighed heavily. “Fine. Sorry. I’m just sick. I thought about going to work but then my Exorcist reenactment got in the way. Something I ate.”

“Hm. California food not exactly up to Connecticut health codes?” she asked.

Jess scoffed. “Like Connecticut can talk. Al’s Pancake World much?”

Ella snorted a chuckle. “Fair enough.” Then, after a moment: “Well, just make sure to drink water. You never drink enough water when you’re sick. Rookie mistake.”

“You’re not exactly one to talk,” he countered.

“What does that mean?” she asked in mock offense.

His tone was joking, but almost nostalgic. “Do you not remember the time you had laryngitis? You tried to come to work! Luke made me drag you upstairs the minute he saw you.”

“I still could’ve been on dish pit or something,” she said defensively. “Besides, that day I finally got you to watch Silence of the Lambs. Not exactly a waste of time.”

“That was a good movie.”

“Good book, too. But the movie was better.”

“Blasphemy!” Jess gasped.

Ella laughed quietly, but was suddenly acutely aware of the distance between them. He wasn’t a two-minute walk away. And she wouldn’t see him on her shift the following day. She cleared her throat awkwardly. “Well, I should go. Gotta finish this section of Paradise Lost.”

“You don’t sound too happy about it,” Jess quipped. She’d said the title in an agitated mutter.

“It’s excruciating.”

“Huh. Thought you’d go crazy for college poetry, even seventeenth-century religious stuff.”

Ella scoffed doubtfully. “Milton couldn’t hold a candle to Dickinson.”

“Strong words,” he said.

“Well, that’s the best kind,” she smirked, then bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself. “Anyway...feel better, Jess.”

“Thanks.”

. . .

Lights of red, green, and yellow flashed outside her window, hanging from the gutters of the small blue house. Icy, crunchy snow caked the Connecticut roads, new flurries coming down in sheets. Joni Mitchell’s “River” crooned from the record player, and Ella was warm beneath her blankets. Pencil in her hand, she underlined and boxed in phrases from her new copy of Adrienne Rich poems. She and Rory, back from Yale, had been to the bookstore the day after Christmas, when everything was marked down to clearance. She missed those lazy days together with her old friends.

Breathing the lavender scent of her candles, she felt content but dreaded the end of the holiday break. Rory would leave again, and Ella would have to go back to the monotony of college life. At least, now, Lane had quit her Christian college upon her mother’s discovery of her secret life. She was looking for a place to live with her band, and Ella was glad she’d have her friend still near her, living on her own terms. Ella didn’t hate Mrs. Kim, but knew Lane would never be truly happy unless she was out from under her mother’s thumb.

The phone sounded over the music, and Ella knew who it would be before she picked it up. Jess had been calling more often lately, ever since he’d gotten over his food poisoning. He told her he’d never eat another piece of sushi again. She didn’t exactly know the reason for the increase. Perhaps he finally got a cell phone, could call her wherever he was. If he had, she could only imagine the struggle it must have been for him. He was definitely on Luke’s side of the handheld phone debate. Somehow, a shift had occurred. Small. But it had happened. Though their conversations weren’t exactly substantive, she felt a little less upset each time they spoke, anger slowly cooling after all their time apart. The pleasant memories were coming back to her more easily, as soon as she let him get a few words in. She still couldn’t help feeling betrayed, but at least he kept up his end of the deal. He barely went more than two weeks anymore without letting her know he was still on the face of the Earth.

She sighed softly. “Hello?”

“Hey, Eleanor,” he said. “Has all the noise, noise, noise finally ceased?”

She shook her head. “Mostly. Luke was in an even worse mood than he usually is on Christmas. The divorce and all.”

Jess snorted a laugh. “My god, I’m glad that whole bizarro thing is over.”

“You haven’t been here. You don’t know the half of it,” she smirked, thinking back to Luke’s odd marriage to his lawyer. The back and forth, to divorce or not to divorce, made everyone who was watching dizzy. She heard Jess inhale sharply, familiar to ear. “Are you smoking?”

“Who are you? Nancy Drew?” he shot back.

“I asked you first.”

“Depends. Have you been biting your nails?”

Ella scoffed self-consciously. “Those two habits are not comparable at all. But touché.” She cast a glance out the window when the branches of the oak tree scraped up against the pane. “Jesus. It won’t stop snowing here.”

“Yeah. Here, too,” he said off-handedly.

Brows furrowing, Ella let a confused chuckle escape her lips. “In Venice Beach? Climate change is hitting pretty hard out there, huh?”

A pause sounded over the receiver, a slight crackling in between them.

“Actually...I’m in New York.”

She hesitated, blinking twice to process the information before she spoke again. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Things uh...things didn’t work out with Jimmy,” he admitted sheepishly.

Blowing out a long breath, she bit the inside of her cheek. “Jesus, Jess, I’m sorry.”

“You can say it.”

“Excuse me?”

“You told me so.”

Shaking her head to herself again, Ella rolled the phone cord in her fingertips. “I’m not gonna say that. I just...I want you to have what you want. I don’t...I don’t want other people to fuck things up for you.”

He chuckled bitterly. “Yeah, well, I think I do a pretty good job of fucking things up on my own.”

“Jess-”

“Look, I gotta go. Work and stuff. So, yeah, still alive,” he said hastily.

“Okay. Just...be safe. Don’t get mugged or kidnapped or anything.”

Jess laughed again softly, more genuine this time. “I’ll try, Stevens. Don’t worry.”

#jess mariano fanfiction #jess mariano au #jess mariano imagine #jess mariano imagines #jess #mariano #jess mariano #gilmore girls fanfiction #gilmore girls au #gilmore girls imagines #gilmore girls #luke danes #jess mariano x oc #jess mariano x original character #original character #original character stories

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signor-signor · 5 years ago

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Trending 27th - January 2020

What have been your efforts in the campaign for SaveWOY and what are your upcoming plans to save WOY? Now this is a question worth answering!

In the past, I made a little list of the things I did to support SaveWOY and bring awareness to Wander Over Yonder’s existence and its third season plans. Since then, I’ve done a whole lot more from hand-drawn art to more intricate art. Some of them are almost as special as that signed poster @peepsqueak got from the WOY crew as a token of their gratitude.

Here’s an updated list of everything I did for SaveWOY so far:

Attended the SaveWOY picnic at Griffith Park, where I got to sign a banner.

Pointed out various higher-ups involved in the business of Disney television.

Sent several letters to the higher-ups, some of which had envelopes with an image of the downed space pod taped to them.

Started a weekly Twitter post series, SaveWOY Thought of the Week.

Made Lite-Brite art of Wander and Lord Hater, which Craig McCracken and Francisco Angones liked.

Attended D23 2017 with an Operation: FORCE drawing of Hater, a colored page of Wander and Sylvia and a few facts about WOY, and an orange pen with a green hat (I got the hat from the aforementioned picnic) - there, I signed a bench with Wander and the phrase, “Never hurts to help.”

Signed my name, drew Wander (and my own character, Jacken DeBox), and wrote, “Happiest place in outer space!” on the highest beam for Star Wars: Galaxy’s Edge.

Wrote a letter (and drew Wander) for the victims of the Las Vegas tragedy with the message, “The darkest times call for the sunniest smiles!”

Got Craig to reveal the name of the ship (said to play a BIG part in S3, made a cameo in Future-Worm) when I commented that we’d have to figure out the name - his response: “The ship is called The Star Nomad.”

Wrote a couple of cards to two Disney higher-ups with the message, “A little nice makes naughty think twice!”

Drew Dominator in a situation that might take place several seconds after she passes the downed space pod, just in time for Noël Wells’s B-day.

Made the Star Nomad with LEGO Digital Designer.

Made three images in the style of the original Star Wars trilogy VHS set.

Posted 50 WOYS3PredictionPolls on Twitter.

Made an image of “The First 5 Years” with over 140 individuals (including the question marks for 3 new mains and 2 new regulars - I still want to know what they look like!) and one cleverly made Hidden Mickey.

Shared WOY-related images from my 1st 5 Years fan art on Twitter acknowledging the B-days of most of the voice actors (Charlie Adler, Kevin Michael Richardson, Ken Marino, Josh Sussman, H. Michael Croner, James Adomian, Jason Ritter, and Piotr Michael clearly noticed).

Typed a summary of how I think the S3 premiere would go.

Typed lyrics to “Let’s Go Soarin’ and Explorin’,” a song from my aforementioned S3 premiere summary. Wouldn’t it be great if Andy Bean used it?

Made a microgame with WarioWare: D.I.Y. where the player has to spin the fan to make the Star Nomad fly. Part of a chorus from “Let’s Go Soarin’ and Explorin’” included.

Started FanCharacterFriday on Twitter - more Tumblr users seem to like Dr. Otmar Vunderbar.

Made a short comic page of Lord Hater trying to break out of the DTVA vault plus a sly reminder that Disney owns the rights to WOY.

Shared a list of potential episode titles for S3.

Made an actual LEGO Star Nomad based on the model made with LDD. Hopefully, those who worked on WOY have noticed. In case you missed it, here’s a picture...

Now, the ideas I have in mind for further boosting support for the campaign. I may not be able to do most of them myself, but they are certainly for everyone’s consideration.

Provide updated information of higher-ups (if any).

As soon as we find out what Kid Cosmic looks like, expect fan art of him saying, “Watch my show and tell your friends so we’ll make that Mousey Company pay for what they did to my half-brother!”

Another SaveWOY picnic - if there’s one in my general area, you can count me in.

LP album artwork of My Fair Hatey.

A mural identical to that of Super Smash Bros. Ultimate consisting of not just characters from WOY, but also characters who were said to debut in S3 and characters who’d fit in perfectly, namely some of my OCs.

Pumpkin stencils of the main characters for Halloween.

Drawings of various WOY characters stuck on the ex-secret planet explaining why they need to leave said planet. Maybe I could also show how the galaxy’s villains would react if they learn that Lord Dominator’s been bested by Lord Hater.

Drawings consisting of SaveWOY-related messages spoken by the main characters from Disney shows that got at least three seasons (e.g. DuckTales, Fish Hooks), tons of love from the viewers and the executives (e.g. Gravity Falls), or both (e.g. SvtFoE, Mickey Mouse ‘13).

Example with Phineas and Ferb:

Phineas: “We may be creative and famous, but we’re not the ones who came up with the Star Nomad. It’s the ship powered by orbbles! Orbbles! I’d LOVE to see it take flight, wouldn’t you? If you let Mr. McCracken end the show his way, and not the executive way, which, truth be told, is the absolute worst, Wander will surely be elated!”

Ferb: “The Orbble Transporter was invented by conjoined twin brothers, voiced by the performers of the theme song.”

Irving (peeking in from the side): “Speaking of voices, the titular main character sounds JUST LIKE ME! How could you possibly resist?! And look, just because I’m the biggest fan of these guys (gesturing to P&F) doesn’t mean I have no interest in what’s planned for the furry orange fella!”

Since I’m a full-time Disneyland cast member, I should be able to make contacts with anyone who might have more clues about what S3 would entail. It might be a long shot, but if I’m able to convince Disney that WOY’s influence on my life boosted my chance at gaining employment at the company, they should understand.

A weekly Jeopardy-type pop quiz on Twitter - here’s the catch: you must refrain from finding information online when you read the answer (I bet you that the most hardcore fans of the most popular shows will get most of the questions wrong).

Example: This arachnomorph got his name from a dog tag he swallowed when he infiltrated a fish-shaped ship. He later became Lord Hater’s beloved pet.

-Who is Captain Tim?

Summaries of S3 episodes I made up myself a while back.

More fan-made characters - my most recent is an elected official of Cluckon, Mayor Spye C. Drumstick.

Conjuring a logo that best fits the status of S3/TV movie - Wander Over Yonder: The New Galaxy (the center would have the silhouette of the Star Nomad with Wander and Sylvia on it).

Brainstorming possible ideas for the three new main characters.

If all else fails, I suggest we make a web comic based on the hints we accumulated back in 2016 and what we learned from the cameo in Future-Worm’s finale. Team Sea3on has been taking that approach for SatAM Sonic the Hedgehog S3, though they are also making an animated version.

That’s about all I’ve got so far. In closing, I have several questions to ask as the new decade kicks off.

Disney executives: Are you even listening to us WOY fans? What more do you want? I’ve done so much for the campaign that I feel I’m entitled to know everything that was planned for WOY’s third and final season, especially now that I’m working full-time for your company. If you tell us what your demands are, we’d be happy to oblige.

@crackmccraigen: Are you aware of how hard the fans and I have been trying to talk Disney into giving you the chance for true closure? We’ll make sure we watch KC when it comes out on Netflix. If we’re lucky, we might see WOY get added to Disney+, where it should get that closure, assuming you’ll have finished KC your way before then.

@suspendersofdisbelief: I know you’re super busy with DuckTales and you love the plans for WOY S3 so much that you can’t bear to reveal it all in one post, but it’s been waaaay too long since we got any hints from you. Are there any other WOY S3-related facts you could describe in much greater detail? The campaign could do with more motivation.

Non-WOY fans: Are you convinced? Need I remind you what’s in the end tag of the “last” episode of WOY? You know there’s much more to life than tales from the land of Ooo, a blue middle school cat boy in a world of unusual individuals, adolescent twins in an Oregon town filled with oddities, a half-gem half-human protagonist, a coming-of-age princess of Mewni, a trio of ursine trend-followers in San Francisco, and all that jazz. If you’re not one bit interested in Hater’s origin story and all that was planned for S3, it’s your loss.

Pessimists: Will you please dispense with this unnerving “Wander is dead” talk? As a certain Popeye would say, “That’s all I can stands, I can’t stands no more!” You’re not trying to let the Disney bosses win, are you? You probably used to think previously canceled shows like Hey Arnold!, Samurai Jack, and Young Justice could never be brought back. The point is, all is not lost.

@peepsqueak and WOY fans/SaveWOY supporters: Have I been of assistance? Almost every remark I’ve ever made shows wit and perception. I mean, just think. Wander is still stuck in that vault where his goal of reforming Lord Hater remains incomplete, and he has no idea of what threat awaits him. He says, “Glorn, help us.” It’ll take something big and extraordinary to convince every Disney fan (and perhaps every Netflix fan) to talk some sense into the higher-ups. Not to mention the replacement/back-up voice actors we’ll have to find if Disney takes even longer (we already lost one - René Auberjonois). We shan’t rest until we get the answers!

@disneyanimation

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alucience · 5 years ago

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Master Post - Key AU Information

So, I’ve decided that as my blog grows and information about this AU gets buried in old posts, I think it would be helpful to create a master post to organize all the information I believe is important for you to know. I’ll update this as I see fit. If you have any other questions, feel free to ask!

*Keep in mind that currently on Tumblr, if a post is reblogged by another person and then edited by the OP, the edits will not appear on the reblog - so, for the most up-to-date version of this post, please seek my blog’s description! I’ll keep a link for this there.

What is this AU about?

In a nutshell: Titled “The Structure of Blood”, this AU explores the story of an ill man known as the Creovorce; a highly intelligent scientist skilled in bioengineering, microbiology, and chemistry. With demented morals and untreated quirks, he used his sharp mind to fulfil his desired philosophy of equilibrium: a balance between life and death. Using a perfect set of similar DNA samples he found and stole (DNA from sextuplets of course; same genetic base with different acquired traits, a perfect variable), he created six living beings. Six living beings programmed to kill, to end life rather than to give. He created a new nature; not one of reproduction or procreation, but one of simply destruction. One wired to see and accept and understand the concept of death rather than life.

The Creovorce created Otsumatsu, Karumamatsu, Kyoromatsu, Shishimatsu, Kuchimatsu, and Toramatsu (later coined by Osomatsu as their “anti” versions). His perfect little creations were finally awake and curious, quiet and observant as the young little lives that they were. However, it soon became clear that the Creovorce had programmed a flaw, one that could not be undone: for in their beating hearts was a strange bond with their DNA donors. If their original counterparts were to die, so too would their hearts stop. Distraught by his mistake, the Creovorce was desperate to undo this weakness, this imperfection. Taken by his growing episodes of insanity, the Creovorce could not stop the six beings from plotting their escape. It was only 7 weeks after their birth that the oldest four - Otsumatsu, Karumamatsu, Kyoromatsu, and Shishimatsu - successfully broke out of the lab. The youngest two remained trapped, and Shishimatsu vanished. From there, the older three reached out, trying to find their counterparts as soon as possible. Counterparts that didn’t even know they existed.

The rest of the story is written in my documents (200 pages and counting), but isn’t fully available online or in comics.

Where can I read the comics for The Structure of Blood?

Due to personal issues and my fluctuating mental health, I don’t have much done - even after all this time. I’ve tried to start the comic three times over (all at different points in the storyline), but never finished them. You can read what I have here:

- This was the start of it all. It’s several years old (from 2017, so I was still in high school) and a tad bit cringy, and in the end I was just never satisfied with it. I got farther here though than I did with any of the others, so here are the links! Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5

- This is one that I worked very hard on at the time, and it looks the most official - but I haven’t had the motivation to finish chapter 2 yet. Who knows if I ever will. It starts out with the backstory of the antis, narrated by Anti Kara. (This is from 2018.) Chapter 1

- This is my most recent one, but still a few years old by now (from 2019). It takes place a little later in the story, AFTER the oldest four antis escape the lab and met their counterparts. They were recaptured with the help of Karamatsu (who by this point is acquainted with his anti, Karumamatsu), and Karamatsu is now in the lab with the Creovorce, busy contemplating some harsh lies. This one was drawn on paper in hopes of getting more production, though I haven’t updated it in some time. Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

Who are the “antis”? (Detailed)

The “antis” (a term coined by Osomatsu) are the six beings of destructions created by the Creovorce using the original brothers’ DNA. Although they possess adult bodies and the innate intelligence of a regular person, they are only seven weeks old. Despite their violent nature, they hold a child-like essence, being naïve, simple-minded, wide-eyed/curious, observant, and truly lacking bias. They still take naps and have some childish quirks such as rubbing their eyes when sleepy, twirling a strand of hair with their finger when bored or tired, staring at and studying faces closely when curious (like, to the point where they break boundaries), touching others’ faces when analyzing or observing, becoming rowdy right before bed, innocently mimicking others to understand the purpose of an action, and holding no boundaries between themselves and their counterparts (such as grabbing on to them, keeping them physically close, playing with their hair, etc).

I have a post that discusses their name meaning/kanji, MBTI type, birthday, and general personality/information (plus information on The Creovorce). To read that, click here.

Why do the antis all seem to hate Shishimatsu (Anti Ichi)?

Well, it started at the lab. As the antis were created, the Creovorce spent time and energy day after day studying them, testing them, loading them with information through tubes and wires. With every little flaw he caught - whether it be behavioral, physical, mental, emotional, - he took all of them back into the testing tubes and manually fixed. Although the tubes left them unfazed, it’s not like they liked it (or really the Creovorce, for that matter. Or each other. They weren’t very happy fellas.). So when it became clear that Shishimatsu had the most quirks (often emotional) that the Creovorce saw needed to be fixed, the others were pretty exasperated. Time and time, it was Shishimatsu’s fault yet again. Back to the tubes. Back to the tubes again. Oh, here we go again. The others don’t necessarily hate him for this, but it gave them someone to blame and make fun of.

As for the younger two - Kuchimatsu and Toramatsu - their hate stems from a different reason. When the antis sought to escape the lab and formed together, the plan was that all of them would make it out - it was the only way to defeat the Creovorce. It was all or nothing. None of them could rise against him alone, not when this was a person who knew them better than they did themselves. However, the plan fell through. Shishimatsu made a mistake while attempting to separate from the others during their escape, and the result was that Kuchimatsu and Toramatsu were trapped and left behind. As the others ran free, the younger two were left to grow their hatred together as their lives were put in danger in a situation that was out of their control. All because of Shishimatsu.

Why didn’t Anti Jyushi or Anti Todo escape the lab at the beginning of the story?

Seek the answer above.

Why do the antis cuddle with their counterparts when they sleep? Aren’t they supposed to be vicious?

This is a concept I’ve had since the beginning of the story way back in early 2017, but I realize I’ve never actually explained it here. The antis themselves are very light sleepers - they’re programmed to be alert and ready for a fight at all times. They don’t even dream at night. This increase in sensitivity gives the antis a special intuitive ability that aids in their protection: the ability to detect irregularities in a person’s heartbeat. When an anti sleeps with his head resting against his counterpart’s chest, he can sleep listening to their heartbeat. Even during their most vulnerable state, they feel a sense of control when they can unconsciously detect wakefulness, sleep, dreams, anxiety, excitement, etc. It’s commonplace for the anti to wake up multiple times during the night as their counterpart dreams and speeds up or slows down their heart rate. My friend described them as living baby monitors.

It’s also likely they find subconscious comfort in hearing a heartbeat that matches their own. After all, if their counterpart dies, so do they. Even as violent killers, the beating signifies life and therefore hushes them slightly.

Why don’t the antis dream?

Again, another early concept that I’ve never explained. It was supposed to be revealed later on in the story, but that’s taking too long.

During the time that the antis’ bodies were still developing at the lab, they resided in testing tubes in a state referred to as “cunae” where they could not breathe air or experience full consciousness. As their growth progressed closer to their “birth”, the Creovorce took note that Anti Oso (Otsumatsu) had developed nightmares. As the nightmares began taking a toll on his development, the Creovorce saw this as a flaw and - just as he did any other “flaw” - erased it. From that point on, the antis lost their ability to dream.

Otsumatsu remembers this. He remembers his nightmares. He doesn’t recall seeing or hearing anything, or even what they were about - but he knows he had them, and he remembers what they felt like. He remembers the feeling of helplessness and terror, but nothing more. He also remembers the point where they suddenly stopped. The “flaw” had been fixed. While he was aware that he was the reason they don’t dream, the others grew up not even knowing what dreams were.

What sexual orientation are the antis?

The antis are being of destruction, and therefore find no use in attempting to procreate. Their sex drive is pretty much as dead as anything else that comes in contact with them.

Sometimes it’s fun to imagine what a beast one of them would be in bed though~ I don’t blame you for that.

Is the story for this AU actually finished?

Ehh that’s a complicated question. There are several story arcs in my documents that I continue to play around with and add to. Some arcs are complete, some are almost complete, and others continue to get added to over time.

Worst case scenario: years and years down the road when everyone’s abandoned this story/fandom and I’ve moved on to other AUs, I’ll just tell you guys how it ends (anyone who’s even interested in hearing anyway). I mean, I’ve seen unfinished AUs before and it drives me mad never learning how it ends or what happens. I’m way too nostalgic to do that.

What is this blog’s relation to the timeline of the AU?

It’s a little hard to explain. The official AU/story is its own thing. I even update the comic every once in a while (thought I’m not very consistent - which is my bad!)

Meanwhile on the blog, I like to just pretend that the story already happened and now Anti Oso and Anti Kara (and sometimes the other four in some scenarios) are all just living with the sextuplets at the Matsuno Household. Since they have nowhere else to go, they’re allowed to live with them as long as they don’t kill anyone (and they get their sedatives every night).

I always like to remind people that the scenario on the blog may be inconsistent with the original story. For instance, if in the AU Shonosuke had died, then maybe he’s suddenly back on the blog for comedic purposes or something. Or if Anti Oso moved to Australia in the AU and now he’s suddenly back on the blog, despite him moving. The blog isn’t necessarily canon - but feel free to ask what is and isn’t.

Are there any other posts you think are important?

I think each post provides just a little more insight on the lives and personalities of the antis. My Tumblr blog was started in 2017 and has lots of early comics and stories you can scroll through (since this was originally an Anti Kara ask blog). There are some things that are even too old to have been posted on my Twitter.

If you don’t want to spend a thousand years scrolling, you can see most of my artwork without all the annoying text posts on DeviantArt (yeah I know, we’re in the 20′s and I’m still using DA). I’ve even compiled a Journal entry on my page that compiles a list of questions people have asked me over the years regarding this AU. Check out my DA here.

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crossbows-and-moonshine · 5 years ago

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Lunacy Fringe (Chapter 1)

Edited Author note; I wrote the bit below when I started this. This fic was actually the first Daryl multi chap fic I started to write, but by chapter 10 I got new ideas and bounced around. I figured I’d come back to it now and try to finish it off. So this one was started way before Flames.

Also, I didn't have a face claim when I wrote it. I picked one after since I wanted to make a header. I didn't even make a connection with the names until after I made it loool

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So this started as a one shot Daryl x reader I wrote years ago. I posted it on my tumblr where I took Daryl requests and on Ao3.

If you’re new around here, hi! :’) This will be canon divergent, those of you who have read my other things before know that I haaaaate to just rewrite series or films, it bores me to read and to write. So yes, as usual this will be canon divergent. It’s set before the whole Negan thing. It’s edited so if any of you have me on tumblr or Ao3, this first chapter which is the one shot is a little different, please don't skip it, even if you’ve read the original. I altered quite a bit to fit the story and my new OC.

This is a dark story, mainly at the start, and it will have various triggers; Rape, abuse, self harm, suicidal thoughts.

Disclaimer; I own nothing but my OC’s and original ideas. This isn’t a Walking dead fanfic, it’s a Daryl fanfic, and as I said, canon divergent. So some things might happen from the show in different orders etc just to fit whatever I’m doing, but the story is mainly about Daryl and my OC.

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Communicating and trading with other groups was vital now for survival. The different groups didn’t always see eye to eye, but it was business and it was just the way the world was now. Rick had been introduced to a new group via Hilltop and the leader Frank had asked them to come for an ‘introductory dinner’ to get to know them. They couldn’t all leave Alexandria for safety reasons so Rick decided he was taking Daryl. His brother in arms, his right hand and the one he knew without a shadow of a doubt he could trust. Daryl was just as perceptive as he was, he could read people well and Rick wanted to get a feel of this new group. To see if they would be trouble or not.

When they arrived, it shocked them to find the camp seemed to be all men. They were loud and obnoxious and the Alexandrians instantly didn’t like them, but business was business so they’d suck it up to help their group. The two men studied each person they met carefully. Despite the fact this was for trading, they never knew what would happen and they always wanted to be prepared. Daryl was pretty astute at reading people, and these people seemed off to him. There was something he didn’t like, like his sixth sense was tingling and telling him something wasn't quite right. It put him on edge, something Rick picked up on.

They were gathered at a large table in the dining hall when they first saw her. She stuck out like a sore thumb. Not just because she was the only woman in the entire group, but she was covered in bruises. Clearly visible in the tattered short dress she was wearing. The marks stood out in stark contrast to her pale skin, the skin mottled and bruised in blooms of purple and yellow. Some were old but some were very very new. She was bringing the food in and one of the other men smacked her ass so hard she dropped the tray of food. The clattering as it hit the floor seemed to bring a silence over the group as it echoed. Rick and Daryl didn’t like it one bit. Tensing and sitting up a little straighter. They watched the scene unfold, but they had no idea it was about to get worse. Frank jumped up from his seat and stomped towards her terrified small frame. It was clear she rarely got to eat.

“Are you fucking stupid bitch?! Clean that shit up now!” he yelled as he grabbed her roughly and pushed her to the floor to clean up the food.

“I-I’m sorry,” she choked out as her knees painfully hit the hard floor. She knew what was coming.

She hated life, recently she contemplated just ending it, maybe even in a way that would make her turn and eat these fuckers alive. Things weren’t always like this. Her brother used to be in the group but last year he died, and Frank decided to make her the camp’s personal slave as she was the only woman and now had no one to protect her.

She scooped the food up back on the tray and stood up, the plate was chattering against the tray as she was trembling terribly. Frank had been drinking which always made him worse and he was trying to show off to the new guys. He grabbed her by her long dark hair which made her yelp in pain. Her cheeks flaming out of sheer embarrassment and shame as he pushed her towards Rick and Daryl with a smirk. Rick looked stoic, trying to look neutral, but Daryl couldn't help the glare he was giving as his nostrils flared, not being able to hide the fact he wanted to gut this motherfucker and hang him with his own entrails for treating her that way. The girl was small next to the large man, it was hardly a fair fight, she had tears trailing down her face as her chest heaved, trying to contain herself. She hated crying in front of Frank and his men.

“What should we do with this bitch?” he slurred slightly, thinking that Rick and Daryl were just like him and his men. Like this was a normal thing to do with someone. Her eyes stayed on the floor, not daring to look at anyone. Daryl was staring at her, willing her to look up and meet his eyes, but she never did.

“Let ‘er go,” Daryl growled and he bristled in his seat as his glare turned back to Frank. Rick and Daryl had watched in horror at how she was treated. In Daryl's mind, there was nothing worse than a woman and child beater. Frank just laughed at him, mocking him.

“Look fellas, we have a couple of pussies here. Thinks we ain’t treating the lady right,” he smirked as he looked around the room at the other men who seemed to enjoy the humiliation of the girl. He let go of her hair and smacked her in the face with a sickening force, knocking her off her feet. Daryl went to pounce on him but Rick grabbed his arm and looked at him. They could often communicate through looks rather than words and Daryl knew exactly what Rick was trying to say; Not yet brother.

Daryl was fighting with every fiber of his being, he wanted to knock Frank on his ass and get her out of there but he knew it would cause more trouble jumping in head first, he needed a plan, he needed to talk to Rick. There was a storm brewing inside of the fierce man, a deep need to protect the poor girl from more harm. He’d failed a lot of people in his life, but he wasn't about to just leave this place, leave the girl, just to get abused this way. He almost felt like it was his shot at redemption, to help her and make up for at least some of the shit he had done.

“I think we’ve all just had a little too much to drink, why don’t you show us our room for the night?” Rick asked politely, plastering on a fake grin for Frank’s expense. He knew he had to be diplomatic about this, his years of being a sheriff coming into play.

“Alright then! Zoey, show them the room, get them settled in!” he barked at her. She scrambled up off the floor and walked passed the new men with red cheeks.

“She’s in the next room if you need anything, if you catch my drift,” Frank grinned wickedly at the men before he wandered off back to sit down. Daryl's chest was heaving as he tried to keep his composure, Rick's hand on his shoulder tight as if it was grounding him from just losing it on the man. They gladly stood up and followed after the poor girl.

She was avoiding looking at them at all costs. Something inside Daryl was pulling him to her. It wasn’t just the fact it wasn’t right how she was treated, it was more. He had an animal instinct to protect her. Get her away from these assholes, but even keep her by his side at Alexandria. He wanted her all to himself, and he didn’t quite understand why. He’d never felt anything like this before. It was a primal need inside of him that wouldn't settle.

He hated how skittish she was, flinching at the slightest noise, never looking at them in the eye. She led them to a room and showed them inside. She still wouldn’t look at them despite Daryl's eyes burning holes into her skin. He really wanted her to look at him, to see he wanted to help her. She didn’t need to be scared of him. She started to make her way to the door and gasped as Rick grabbed her wrist on the way out. He let go as if he burnt her and looked at her apologetically for scaring her.

“I just wanted to thank you. I’m Rick and this is Daryl,” he explained softly, in a soothing manner like he was talking to a frightened child. She just nodded at him, not meeting his eyes as her gaze stayed on the floor below her.

“How d’ya end up with these pricks?” Daryl asked with a frown, not able to contain himself any longer. She shifted her weight anxiously. She just wanted to retreat into the safety of her own small room, hide and hope she never had to emerge.

“I…um…m-my brother... d-died last year. So Frank… u-utilised me,” she stammered nervously, still not looking them in the eye and anxiously wringing her hands. For all she knew they were just like all the other men that came from other places. The men that Frank would send into her room and let them do as they pleased with her.

“That assholes been usin’ ya and treatin’ ya like shit for a whole fuckin’ year?” Daryl seethed, he was struggling to keep a lid on his temper. This whole thing was wrong and when he couldn't deal with his emotions or understand them, it only fuelled the anger in his veins. Rick put a reassuring hand on his shoulder to try to reign him back in.

“Why the fuck ain’t ya try to escape girl?” he asked harshly. He didn’t mean to direct his anger at her but it was too much to deal with. The thought of what she’d been through for that long made his blood boil. The two men could only imagine what they had done to her. Rick wanted her out of here as much as Daryl, he was just much better at reigning himself in and dealing with things. Rick looked at Daryl, he reminded him of the angry redneck he had met all those years ago, when Merle was left on the roof.

She clenched her jaw as she felt the shame and anger sweep through her entire body at his accusing words. She snapped, feeling like he was blaming her for what she was going through. In the heat of the moment she lifted her dress up revealing the brand she was left with, her eyes burning with tears.

“Next time they’ll kill me,” she spat through her tears. Rick and Daryl looked on horrified. There on her stomach was the name ‘Frank’ carved into her skin in large letters. The scars jagged and deep, the skin flamed red on her usually alabaster skin. Forever branded by that monster as a reminder of who owned her. She let go of the fabric, letting it fall down and cover her once more. A vacant look clouded her eyes, something that Rick didn’t fail to notice. He knew that look from people with trauma he had dealt with before. A way of coping.

“Ya should come back with us,” Daryl said after a tense moment of silence, his voice a lot softer than before. He felt the guilt inside of him swell from directing his anger at her. The image of the savage brand didn’t seem to want to dislodge itself from his brain. He had his own brutal scars, but he felt they paled in comparison to what he’d just witnessed.

She scoffed darkly, knowing Frank had his hooks into her and he had no intention of letting her go. She would die in here, and she hoped it was sooner rather than later. She shook her head and left the room quickly. She had no hope of getting out of here alive, she’d resigned herself to that fact and she was just working up the courage to take her own life to be free of these monsters.

Back in the room Daryl was pacing and biting his thumb while Rick sat on his bed.

“We gotta do somethin’ Rick, I ain’t leavin’ ‘er with these pricks, ain’t right,” he scowled anxiously.

“I know, we need to get her out of here. I was thinking, we leave tonight. Take her and go, it's dark so we can try to get her in the car without being seen. They’re outnumbered where our groups concerned, so if they try to bring a fight to us, they’ll lose,” Rick explained. Daryl nodded his head and they started to hash out the details of the plan.

Later that night she was startled awake by someone coming into her room, it was dark but she could make out the dark figure coming across the room. She scrambled up to the wall on the pile of blankets on the floor where she slept and pushed herself into the corner of the room, fear pulsing through her veins. If it was Frank or one of his men it would only end one way.

“Hey, s’alright, s’just me,” a familiar southern drawl cut through the air. Her eyes finally adjusted as Daryl crouched on the floor holding his hand out to her hesitantly, like he was afraid she would just bolt like a skittish animal. Her reaction of him coming into her room only made his heart ache, confirming the thoughts that he and Rick had shared about what these men had been doing to her.

“We’re gon’ get ya outta here,” he explained softly. She sat still for a moment before her eyes actually met his for the first time. She looked confused and scared. Daryl fought the urge to look away from her piercing gaze, the intensity was making him feel weird. But he didn’t, he kept his eyes on her, determined to make her see he was serious and she had no reason to be scared of him.

She grabbed his hand carefully and allowed him to help her off the floor. She took a deep inhale as she squeezed his hand tightly. A simple gesture but it made Daryl's heart flutter a little. She refused to let it go as she just stood there in front of him with her eyes closed, like she was taking comfort and strength from him by holding his hand. He watched her carefully and gently squeezed it back. It felt natural to him, being the one to comfort her. He wanted to be the only one to comfort her. He wasn’t one for touching, even holding someone's hand. But this girl he had just met, this broken girl needed him. And it awoke something inside of him he didn't even realise was there.

“Thank you,” she whispered through tears as she clutched hold of his hand. She felt a strange comfort in being so close to him despite all she had been through. His scent was soothing to her and she didn't want to let him go.

“Ain’t nothin’. Ya gon’ be safe with us,” with me, he added on the end in his head as he soaked in their close proximity. He was enjoying it a lot, much to his surprise. He found himself wanting to hold her hand more. It was as though he was getting as much comfort from her as she was from him. A need for physical contact he didn't know he had and had always denied from others.

After she got herself together and let go of his hand, much to his dismay. Daryl helped her pack the few clothes she had while briefing her on the plan, then she followed him outside. Daryl and Rick were fast and vigilant, making sure no one saw her as they got her in the car. She couldn’t believe it as they left and started on their way to Alexandria. She sat staring out the window in mild shock. Was she really free? Was she really safe? Before she knew it, she was crying, she was happy, she hadn’t felt like this in years. Daryl spun around from the passenger seat with a worried look on his face as he looked at her.

“S’wrong?” he asked concerned. She gave him a watery smile and wiped her tears.

“I’m free,” was all she managed to choke out. Daryl smiled at her and shared a look with Rick. They felt good about saving her. Daryl had a deep sense of pride, and he knew he was going to have her stick by his side once they got home. He wanted to keep her safe. When she reached Alexandria she was impressed, it was much nicer than with those assholes. It was still dark when she got there but from what she could see, it was perfect.

Taglist; @risingphoenix761 @daryldixonandfrogs @arlaina28 @divadinag @keeperofwonderlandus @jodiereedus22 @easnuppa @fand0m-fiend @txladyj-blog @walkingdead-dixon

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon imagine #twd #twd fanfiction #twd fanfic #The Walking Dead #the walking dead fanfic

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rubystmntoc · 5 years ago

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visitor from another world One-shot (TMNT)

So before I start I just wanna say happy new year to all of chu people >∆< also this is my first post on Tumblr so pls be nice constructive criticism is welcome thank u and with that being said enjoy 💞

~Disclimer I don't own the tmnt 2k3 series or any other version bc if I did the turtles 2k12 series would have a 6 and 7 season just saying 😐(I only own my oc)

Rose jekins just got home from a late night shift from her job working at the cafe 'if those last 5 customer's werent such pains in my ass then maybe I would have been home by 10:00 and not 12:00' she thought bitterly she hated her job the only reason why she still works there u ask?

Bc she has bills she needs to pay

She tiredly threw her appron and unbuttoned shirt on her couch before trudgeing into her room

'i wonder what it would be like to live with the tmnt' she thought

"who am I kidding? That can't happen it would be to sweet to come true"

'right?'

She kicked off her shoes and grabbed her laptop she smiled widely as episodes came up

Ever since she could remember she loved the turtles she would rewatch the old series over and over again as she grew older she fell in love with the oldest two turtles and would blush when they would wink or smirk as if they where looking at her

Getting comfortable on top of her bedsheets and covers she clicked one of her favorite episodes and hummed along to the theme song

She loved the opening scenes they where the best and kept her on her two cents as the plot was introduced to her

Suddenly her computer screen went static

"dammit" she she said getting up thinking that her computer was dead grabbed the charger in plugged it in

Still static

She was about to turn off the computer when a hand reached in and grabbed her she tryed to get the hand off her but it was to late she was sucked into her computer screen

. . . . . .

She crash landed in a ally way "ouch" she said picking herself up only to feel different

Her vision was a bit blurry but was she

Seeing green?

she screeched having no Idea what was going she backed herself into the ally wall not noticing her kidnappers

A knife was pointed toward her neck in a instant and another was put in front of her mouth to keep her from screaming

"Am only gonna go over this one time and one time only girl-(hatred laced in the voice) my mistress needs you for experimental purposes you are gonna come with me and my friends and if u don't comply am gonna rip ur vital cords from ur throat and watch u bleed out "

"A simple nod of your head is all I ask and will be on our way"

She did not believe it ,she soon recognized her kidnappers as the foot clan from the colors and the symbols scared she nodded her head

'i can't be in New York City! And these foot clan can't be real can they?!.......but this place looks like the NY from the show..wait a minute...AM IN THE F**KING SHOW!?!'

Suddenly feeling a burst of energy in her veins she tryed to wiggle out of the foot soldiers hands ,they catching on to what she was doing was about to knock her out when something hit the back of the foot soldiers head knocking them out

"I don't think she wants to come with cha fellas"

"yeah let the damsel go or face my nunchuck fury!" Two strong and child like voices rang out into the ally

"Raphael and Michelangelo hamato?" She said quitely*

"ITS THE TURTLES!" A foot soldier yelled out another following behinde screaming " KILL THEM!"

"Mikey you free the girl while raph, Donnie and I keep the foot busy"

'Leo!?!" She thought again

Soon she was face to face with the playful brother of the bunch

"don't worry me and my Bros will get you to safety"

Rose nodded her and soon felt herself out of the foots hands Happy she stood hugging mikey

"thank you Mikey" she said sincerely

"you welco- how do u know my name?"he asked questioning

"well let's just say am not from here and 2 your brother Leo just said it" she said with a knowing smirk

Accepting the answer they turned to witness the end of the fight

"that's the last of em" raph said

The brothers 4 high fiveing/threeing before turning there attention to the turtle mutant

"thank you so much Leo,Donnie and raph"

"your welcome hey uhh not to be rude but how do u know our names" a curious Donnie asked

"like a told ur little brother am not from here and this- she motioned her 3 fingerd hand down her body happend when I got here am not a mutant turtle where I come from also can we talk about this somewhere else I don't like talking out in the open" she said*

"we can take her to the lair!" Shouted a excited Mikey*

"absolutely not!" Shouted Leo in a protective manner

"I don't see why not fearless I mean she couldn't harm a fly" argued donnie

He secreatly wanted to take you to the layer to run test and find out more about where u cam from

Raph and Mikey nodding there head in agreement sighing then looking over you once leo agreed

Mikey jumping up for joy led u to the manwhole cover and chatted along with u the whole

U enjoyed his company and grew found of him this was gonna be one long adventure to getting back home!

I hope u like this One-shot sorry it was so long anyways Happy New year stay safe happy 2020 love ya bye!✊💓

#tmnt oc #tmnt 2003 #leonardo #michelangelo #mikey #donnie #Raphael #raph #tmnt #fanfiction #2020

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jahaanofmenaphos · 5 years ago

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Art by the awesome @tommieglenn!

Of Gods and Men Summary:

When the gods returned to Gielinor, their minds were only on one thing: the Stone of Jas, a powerful elder artefact in the hands of Sliske, a devious Mahjarrat who stole it for his own ends and entertainment. He claims to want to incite another god wars, but are his ulterior motives more sinister than that? And can the World Guardian, Jahaan, escape from under Sliske’s shadow?

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TUMBLR CHAPTER INDEX

QUEST 09: OUR SPIRITS, KINDRED

QUEST SUMMARY:

When Ariane is kidnapped and the signs point to Sliske, Jahaan is forced to confront the Mahjarrat once again. But this time, things take a turn for the twisted, and Jahaan uncovers the truth behind Sliske’s obsession with him. Can Jahaan survive Sliske’s games? After all, broken bones heal faster than a broken mind...

CHAPTER 1: GRIP OF THE GODS

High above the clouds, Armadyl and his avianse were housed in a temporary cloud fortress that they had erected upon their return to Gielinor. The Empyrean Citadel was unsuitable for housing their numbers, after all. That, and it had been tainted by Sliske’s presence. So, they had to build themselves temporary lodgings, for you can’t exactly spread the avianse across the bed and breakfasts of Misthalin. It helped that the avianse were known for being skilled carpenters. One wouldn’t think that upon looking at them, but never judge a book by its cover.

Looking out towards the horizon of a new dawn, Armadyl stood in quiet contemplation. He’d been trying to work through the turmoils of the last few years in solitude, taking to meditating at the break of day. While doing this, he’d organise his current stresses and plan ways to deal with them by prioritising the most pressing issues and working backwards. He didn’t want to worry his generals by showing just how much it was eating at him to be back on Gielinor. When they’d first arrived on Gielinor in the Second Age, they were escaping their homeworld of Abbinah, looking for peace and community in a pure world that was rich in resources, a world that would allow them to prosper without the threat of constant storms and hurricanes raging above, a world that didn’t require ritual sacrifice of the elderly to relieve the burden on the young.

Gielinor was that perfect world.

Now, it was being ravaged by war, just as it was many centuries ago. Those who forget the past were doomed to repeat it, and Armadyl was not going to let what happened to his avianse on that fateful day ever happen again.

Now, new issues had arisen, namely his ‘prize’ of inheriting the vast majority of Bandosians after he’d slain their god. Honestly, he didn’t expect that to happen. Not that he didn’t welcome the challenge of teaching a new group that there was a way of life beyond war, a way of life instead driven by peace and justice. But undoing eons of Bandosian indoctrination had left him with his hands full. Understaffed and unprepared, Armadylean forces had been stretched thin.

And then, Armadyl had heard about the fate of the Dorgesh-Kaan.

The guilt of being unable to prevent this genocide, one execuated in his name, was clawing at his heart.

Kree'arra entered onto the balcony, tentatively calling out, “My lord?”

Shuddering, Armadyl tried to briefly take the Dorgesh-Kaan out of his mind. Turning to the general, he attempted a warm smile. “Come, Kree'arra. What news do you bring?”

“Nothing positive, my lord,” Kree'arra regretfully admitted. “The situation in Ardougne is growing worse by the day, and our scouts are no closer to finding Sliske and your Staff.”

Armadyl wasn’t disappointed. Not really, anyway. In both matters, he’d expected as much. The reports had plateaued, and he didn’t expect much of an improvement anytime soon.

“Kree'arra,” Armadyl’s tone was resigned, yet resolved. “If the situation here on Gielinor continues to deteriorate, I am not putting my people in harm's way by remaining. We shall depart this world and find somewhere else to nest, with or without my Staff. Power is nothing if my people are lost, like I thought they were all those years ago.”

“But where would we go, my lord?” Kree'arra asked, softly. “We cannot return to Abbinah.”

“Of course not, but I have an idea… it may be a long shot, yes, but we might be able to save those left behind on Abbinah, and create a new home for all of the avianse. Say, Kree'arra… what do you know of Tarddiad.”

Furrowing his brow, Kree'arra replied, “The homeland of the elves? Little, my lord. It is known as a land covered in trees.”

“And mountaintops, waterfalls, lush vegetation…” Armadyl added, growing in excitement. “I have a plan. Seren cares a lot for her elves - she’s a compassionate being, kinder than all the other gods I have encountered. Our people are skilled craftsmen and healers, so we could help her people in numerous ways. If I can persuade Seren to share the skies of Tarddiad with us, we needn’t ever want for resources or stability ever again. We would be safe, Kree'arra!”

His frown deepening, Kree'arra averted his gaze from the diety’s. Armadyl had always been a dreamer, but Kree'arra found himself to be a pessimist by nature, always hating to ground the idealistic musings of his god. “That would be wonderful, my lord… but do you really think Seren would give up part of sovereignty over Tarddiad to us?”

“It would take some convincing, yes,” Armadyl accepted. “But I shall discuss the idea with her upon our next encounter. Hopefully she will see the merits in my proposal.”

Turning back towards the horizon, Armadyl’s tone was wistful, yet determined, as he said, “I will find a home for us, Kree'arra. I will save the avianse…”

***

It was a dreary Essianday in Lumbridge, but as Essianday was the Saradominist holy day of the week, church was in service. Father Urhney, an irritable priest, was leading the congregation. Never in a good mood, the wild-haired priest detested being back in the town of Lumbridge, having moved into the swamps to the south not so long ago in an attempt to spend two years in silent meditation and prayer. However, every time someone bothered him with conversation, he forced himself to start over. Hence, he was a rather grumpy fellow.

Since the end of the Battle of Lumbridge, the town’s residents - usually devout Saradominists - had been attending services less and less, meaning that the coffers at the front were a lot lighter than usual. Considering this was how the priests gained an income in the town, it was a worry for them all, even those who had isolated themselves in a swampy shack.

The reason for the drop in attendance was due to a rise in Godless and Armadylean supporters who had turned from Saradomin after the Battle of Lumbridge was concluded. Turns out, not many people care to have their town demolished and the deity they pray to walk away without so much as an apology.

The priest that usually ran the quaint little service was Father Aereck, a frail and subdued man, who was not well equipped to deal with the challenge of regaining Saradominist support in Lumbridge.

Because of this, Father Urhney forced himself from his little shack and ventured back into the town to take over regular services. Today was his first one, and word had gotten around about his return, so the church was a lot fuller than normal. It turned out that a lot of people had questions they wanted answered, and Father Aereck was not doing the job for them, so they made the most of utilising Father Urhney’s time.

But upon hearing the white noise of chattering, questions, demands and a few stray insults, Father Urhney regretted his life choices. Irritably shaking his head, he raised his hands in an attempt to calm the congregation.

This achieved nothing.

Gritting his teeth, he squinted his eyes tightly and exclaimed, “Please, one at a time! Saradomin only has two ears, and so do I.”

Fortunately, that was enough to subdue them, but it wouldn’t last long. So, capitalising on the silence, he motioned to a man in the front row, one of the rowdier members who was chomping at the bit to speak.

“Why should we follow Saradomin anymore?” the man asked, a loaded question if there ever was one. “He left our town in ruins. I heard about this Armadyl guy - he seems to be a stand up fella, preachin’ justice and peace and all that.”

“He went to war with Bandos in open conflict,” Father Urhney countered, rolling his eyes. “Not very peaceful if you ask me. But yes, before you say it, Bandos was a threat that needed to be neutralised. He’s dead now. Zamorak is still out there, causing chaos. He’s invaded Ardougne! Where’s Armadyl now? He’s left those people there to fend for themselves, whereas Saradomin has sent his forces to battle the dark Zamorak head on. Peace can only be achieved once Saradomin takes his rightful place as the only god in Gielinor. There is a pattern to the ascendance and collapse of civilisation - a cycle of tragedy. Saradomin has the knowledge to break this cycle, and most importantly, the will to lead everyone forwards. Gielinor, and other worlds, would be brought into a new age. A utopia. Other gods can claim this, but only Saradomin has the experience necessary to make it happen. Alas, utopia must sometimes be built on bones, so let the lesser gods be the foundation. Then, Saradomin can lead everyone to a glorious future!”

“Lead? You mean, he wants to control everyone?” a disgruntled man in the second row called out, earning a few concurring nods and mumbles from the rest of the attendees.

Father Urhney tried his best to keep his tone measured as he replied, “You say that as though it were a bad thing. People need governments, leaders and structures. Just as freedom doesn't mean anarchy, control doesn't have to mean slavery. Saradomin offers guidance and leadership, law and order. Under his 'control', people could thrive. Everyone would have the reassurance that they know where they belong and how they should behave. Deep down, everyone wants to know where they sit in the world. What you call control, I would argue is true freedom. Freedom to know how life should be lived and how to fulfil one’s potential.”

“I heard from my niece in Ardougne that there’s a Mahjarrat-y fellow running around with one of them there elder weapons! He’s gonna use it to destroy everyone!”

This statement came out of nowhere, interrupting the contemplative quiet that had arose following Father Urhney’s response. For all his personal foibles, Father Urhney was incredibly devout and the conviction from which he spoke could turn even the most stubborn of heads.

But now, that peace had been ruined, and naturally, the congregation went into panicked uproar. Some of the Lumbridge folk were rural and quite traditional in their beliefs, but they knew enough to decide that the Mahjarrat were bad, and one having an Elder Weapon was worse. Of course, this was a gross oversimplification, one that a lot of Mahjarrat would take umbrage to, but the public perception was hard to change, and Sliske running around with the Stone of Jas was doing little to help matters.

The lack of Saradominist Mahjarrat didn’t help either.

Having heard Brother Samwell’s tale of Sliske, Icthlarin and the Empyrean Citadel, Father Urhney was a lot more knowledgeable on what was really going on in the world in comparison to his congregation. Deciding that giving at least a little bit of context could assist in both settling the nerves of the churchgoers and prove that he and his fellow priests were in-the-know, Father Urhney once again silenced the crowd and said, “Calm down, everyone. If you let me talk, I can quell some of these exaggerated rumours. Now, firstly, yes, there’s a Mahjarrat who has the Stone of Jas, and-QUIET! For Saradomin’s sake, can you let me finish?! Yes, the rumours are true, but Saradomin is fighting to get the Stone back into his safekeeping, and he WILL succeed. He will take the fight to all the other gods, and this Mahjarrat, and the Stone will be his once again. That’s why he needs your support!”

“Why Saradomin?” one of the men at the back piped up, pushing off from the wall he was leaning against. “Why not another god, or heck, how about NO god?”

“The Stone will fall into someone’s hands, it cannot simply go no-where and belong to no-one,” Father Urhney grumbled, shaking his head with an irritated sigh. “Saradomin has wielded the Stone before, wisely and with care, and he shall do so again. Can you say such of the others? The dark Zamorak would use it to destroy the world; Zaros would enslave it to his will, and grow more dangerous than ever; Armadyl has no idea what to do with such power, and would destroy himself with his naivety; and Seren would use its power only in support of her precious elves. Saradomin, on the other hand, will use its power with wisdom and compassion, for the betterment of ALL life on Gielinor. Now, are there any more questions?”

Once he saw almost every hand in the room shoot up, it took everything in Father Urhney’s power to not storm out and end the service early.

***

The dragonkin were a race of powerful and intelligent dragon-like creatures that originated from the previous cycle of the universe, a handful of them having survived the revision of the universe by hiding in the Abyss. The surviving dragonkin sought out Jas for mercy or retribution, only to end up being bound to her Catalyst - the Stone of Jas - and were tasked with protecting it at all costs. When the Stone was used by a being other than Jas, they were cursed to feel great pain and suffering that could only be eased by violence and rampage. Thus, tales of the dragonkin speak of a malevolent and dangerous species.

There were two factions of the dragonkin on Gielinor. The first, the Dactyl dragonkin, who repress the urge to cause destruction and kill 'False Users'. Instead, they undertake research and perform experiments in an attempt to sever their connection to the Stone of Jas. The other faction were the Necrosyrtes, a war-like faction comprised of those who have given into their urge to cause destruction. Kerapac belonged to the former, and had dedicated his life to ridding the dragonkin of Jas’ curse.

On this night, Kerapac was found huddled over one of the journals he was writing, locked inside his cramped and dimly lit study. He and his fellow draginkin had been forced from their home at the heart of Daemonheim when Bilrach tunnelled deep into its depths. Realistically, they could have fought off any intruder, but were against revealing themselves to the world at such a time. In fact, if Kerapac had his way, they would still be an unknown presence in Gielinor. Unfortunately, Sithaph and Strisath had taken matters into their own hands, succeeding at retrieving the Staff of Armadyl (momentarily) but falling short of safeguarding the Stone. After all, they didn’t have the power to teleport the Stone to safety by themselves. They were brutes, weaklings - kath, as they were known in the dragonkin language. And thanks to them, the world knew about the existence of the dragonkin.

Kerapac had self-proclaimed himself as the ‘Observer’, watching over the affairs of Gielinor with patience and detachment. Until now, that is. With Sliske’s slaying of Guthix and bringing back the gods to Gielinor, the world was in upheaval, and Kerapac could sense the disturbance beneath him. The Elder Gods would awaken soon, they would hatch their spawn, and so the universe would restart once again, just like it did eons ago. Kerapac sensed it then, and managed to hide some of his people away… but he knew he would not be so lucky this time.

But while they were still bound to the Stone, there was very little the dragonkin could do.

Kerapac knew that the time for observation was over, and he formulated a plan. Many plans, in fact - Kerapac was not a being to leave much to chance. If successful, this latest idea would leave the Elder Mirror in his possession. The Elder Mirror was used by the Elder Gods for large-scale creation, being able to create copies of things. Currently, the dragonkin had tracked down its location to a being known simply as ‘V’, the god of the Fremennik people.

As of now, V had kept to himself, choosing to isolate himself and his people from the current affairs of the other deities, along with the chase for the Stone of Jas.

Kerapac had no qualms about killing him. He’d slaughter civilisations if it meant his fellow dragonkin could finally be free.

Other such plans had yet to return positive results; no dragonkin had managed to locate Sliske, as of yet, and the search for the other Elder Artifacts wasn’t going so well. Twelve were known, but only a handful were even obtainable. The Siphon and the Catalyst - colloquially known as the Staff of Armadyl and the Stone of Jas, respectively - were in Sliske’s possession. The Locator, also known as the Crown Archival, was able to find other Elder Artifacts, though only ones of considerably less power. It would prove incredibly useful to any deity, and indeed to the dragonkin, but it was currently held by Saradomin, who Kerapac knew had too much power and support to take on directly. Others, such as The Kiln, were useless to the dragonkin, only used for creating TokHaar workers to shape the world. And then there were the artefacts that were lost to time and space, those that may not even be on Gielinor, such as The Codex and The Template. Kerapac only knew of their existence due to his past proximity to the Stone of Jas, something that granted him knowledge most mortals could only dream of.

So many artefacts, so many gods, so little time.

But for now, Kerapac kept writing in his journal, documenting his work to save his people from the curse brought upon them by a being as old as the universe. If it meant killing a god, or numerous gods, he would do so. If it meant challenging Sliske directly, he would do so. If it meant laying down his own life so that his descendents could live without suffering, he would do so.

***

The small study Sliske had carved out for himself was dimly lit in the glow of only two candles. It made the knife-work he was undertaking much more of a challenge, having to refrain from slicing off his own fingers with the sharp blade, but this helped him focus more, to concentrate on the task at hand instead of letting his mind drift to unwanted realms. Unfortunately, that suffocating feeling always managed to creep inside, rattling with voices that were always his own, always familiar, yet simultaneously alien.

The voices had been there since he was young, and he’d managed to keep them a secret from the rest of his tribe. Except from his brother, that is, who was the only one he could confide in at such a young age. These voices didn’t worry him, and from what he’d gathered from his time amongst humans, many of them were subject to the same conditions.

Perhaps Mahjarrat are susceptible too? Perhaps I’m not the only one?

He didn’t know, and venturing such a notion would have led him down a rabbit hole, perhaps even to the Marker.

So, they were kept a secret.

Well, for the most part; Relomia - Sliske’s emissary, someone who often lurked in Sliske’s lair whenever the Mahjarrat would permit company - had often heard her master mutter to himself when in the depths of deep thought, conversing with himself like he wasn’t the only one in the room. It troubled her, to hear some of the things her master would say, but she didn’t dare confront him, for he might not take too kindly to the notion she had been eavesdropping all this time.

Whittling wooden masks was Sliske’s favourite way to de-stress; whenever he felt overwhelmed by anything and needed to clear his mind, or simply narrow it enough to fix a troubling part of a plan, he would take a knife and carve theatrical masks. Some of them he would enchant, for the humour in it, but the vast majority he would burn.

There was never much subtlety or nuance in Sliske’s masks. For a being that prided himself on being unreadable, his wooden creations undercut that entirely. Sliske had already carved eight masks this evening alone and was working on his ninth. This mask, however, was blank. Not that he had yet to carve an emotion into it, but the mask itself portrayed emotionless.

“You’ve been waiting for this your entire lifetime,” Sliske growled lowly to himself. “If you don’t act now, it may be too late. Gods know you have a target on your back…”

“You shouldn’t have told him. You should have known he would betray you.”

“Why did you tell him? Why did you think honesty would get you anywhere? It never has and it never will.”

“He went behind your back. He was never going to fulfil the agreement.”

“Why did you think he would be any different?”

“You thought you could reason with him? Bargain for something so precious? You fool.”

“What is wrong with you?” he hissed with disgust, causing his knife hand to slip and accidentally slice his into his thumb. The wound wasn’t deep, but claret still trickled across the mask’s face, dripping through the eyehole and into a small puddle beneath him. “He wouldn’t be persuaded so easily. Be reasonable. Plan A was a longshot - you knew that. So, you’ll just have to do things the hard way...”

After a few more minutes of bloodstained whittling, Sliske held the mask up to admire his handiwork, though instead regarded it with nothing more than a heavy glare of disinterest. He tossed it into the corner.

Rising to his feet, he walked over to the pile of masks he’d accumulated over the last few months. It took up a fair bit of space; Sliske was holding off on burning them until he could justify a bonfire. “Everything is ready. Soon, he’ll be ready too. A few hours and it’ll all be over. You’ll be safe, forever. It’s what you’ve always wanted. Immortality is within reach, so don’t let those ridiculous notions of yours get in the way. After all, you’ll forget him in time.”

He reached among the pile and found a mask with a wicked sneer carved into it. Holding it up to his face, he mimicked the expression inside the mask. “Yes, it won’t be long now…”

DISCLAIMER:

As Of Gods and Men is a reimagining, retelling and reworking of the Sixth Age, a LOT of dialogue/characters/plotlines/etc. are pulled right from the game itself, and this belongs to Jagex.

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#armadyl #kerepac #sliske

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boogiewrites · 6 years ago

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A Girl Walks Into A Bar 8

Characters: Declan Harp x Bella Fiore (OFC)

Word Count: 4300+

Summary: Modern Declan harp AU. Declan and Bella's first day and night of the music festival road trip.

Warnings/Tags: Language. Drinking. Fluff. Mutual Pining. Low key flirting.

Click on my screen name then go to Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.)

Declan has Mike help him carrying his bags and the supplies for the trip to the music festival from the bar. He'd taken the lead to get everything set up beforehand, even charging up the solar panels so you could both just plug in and play once you took the around four-hour road trip to Ohio.

"So ya stoppin' by the store to pick up anythin' else before ya leave big fella?" Mike says with a wink and a knock of his elbow.

"I don't know what kind of snacks she likes so we'll be running in for that, that's why I left the cabinets and that basket empty." He motions to the cabinet in the built-in with a sink on top made into the wall of the cozy, renovated van.

"Not what I meant," Mike mutters. "I figure it was so long ago the last time you brought condoms they'd all be withered and dry by now." he snickers.

Declan turns his head towards him, brow low and a 'huh?' look of confusion on his face. "I wasn't gonna take any?" his voice lilts.

"So you're just gonna knock her up then?" Mike jokes.

"I wasn't planning on having sex with her." he states flatly.

"Really? Ya stuck in this small space for days, sharin' a bed with a girl ya like and ya aren't expectin' to sleep with her?" his face shows he's unconvinced.

"No," he says innocently. "I like her, yeah." he nods. "Which is why I don't plan on sleeping with her. I don't wanna fuck this up by making assumptions." he says defensively.

"What? Ya don't think she wants to?"

"I don't know. I don't think so, which is why I'm not going to. Like I said. You've seen her, does she seem like the kind to jump into bed with someone?" he huffs out a laugh.

"You got a point. A bit cold, that one."

"She's not cold. Just..." he shrugs. "I think she needs a friend right now. Seems kinda lonely, y'know? So that's what this is. I'm gonna treat it like I was going with anyone else." he holds his hands up in surrender. "This trip is going to either make us hate each other or we'll come back a lot closer. I hope it's the latter, cause yeah I DO like her but I want her to like me. She's like a wild animal, dude, you can't be aggressive with her. Gotta earn her trust and then she'll decide what to do from there."

"Your outdoorsman habits are servin' ya well with this one." he grins. ---------------------------- He pulls up to Bella's house and she already has her bags ready by the door, which he truly appreciates. She's relieved to see that the ride is, in fact, a large van, but at least it didn't have a giant airbrushed wizard on the side. Well actually, she wouldn't have minded that so much either. In a sensible navy, beige and tan it looks like it's ripped from a 70's postcard. Declan opens up the side to give her a look as he can see the apprehension in her face to the size of it from the outside. He goes to grab her bags and she leans into the upholstered and homey space. It looked entirely charming and cozy, he certainly hadn't lied about that. The bed took up most of the space, pushed against the back doors on storage risers. A line of LED's across the top would serve as lighting, and she did love some twinkle lights for snug ambiance. She had some in her own bedroom. A sink, cabinet and hot plate are in sight, lots of storage and every bit of space used for something. It went from the very backs of the seats, with thick window covering rolled up over the large front window, to the back doors, a shelf against one wall by the bed, an open space in front of the side door and everything was new and clean lightly stained wood with modern decor. The feminine touches could be seen and were not going unappreciated.

"This is a lot better than I was anticipating." she expresses as she pushes her bags underneath the bed.

"Told you. I wouldn't take you out in some miserable, freezing hippie van. We've got water, power and wifi, what more do you need?" he grins, patting her back before moving back to the house together.

She says goodbye to Robbie, locks up and sets the house alarms, making sure everything is synced to her phone. She had CeeCee set to come to check on Robbie every night, even though there was an automatic feeder and water bowl for him. She'd bought him a new catnip toy to distract him and he was currently just fine with her leaving.

"Here's the cord." he says, handing her the AUX with no apprehension.

"So I do get to be in charge of the most important part of the trip?" she grins.

"You're the music man, unless you want to listen to the same thing over and over or a mixed bag on my Spotify, which is new so it's not like it's customized yet."

"No, no. I made playlists." she nods enthusiastically, sitting her purse down on the soft carpeted floor and pulling her legs into her seat, leaning over on the armrest towards him.

"Gonna stop by the store first, load up on snacks and junk before we hit the road." he says, craning his neck and looking at all the large mirrors on the van.

"Hopefully mostly junk." she mutters as her fingers scrolls through her lists.

"Whatever you want babe. We'll need plenty of calories."

"True. I'm gonna see as much as I can so that means I'm pulling your big ass around with me." she smiles.

"If you think I'd let you go anywhere alone you're wrong." he states obviously, now steady on the road.

She gives him a sideways glance, a more subtle smile on her face before returning her eyes to the screen.

"Don't play the good ones just yet. Wait until we get on the highway." he nods, wagging a finger to the console.

"That a rule captain?" she quirks up an eyebrow.

"Tradition." he nods with a confident, charming smile, hands drumming on the steering wheel. "We're cool, we don't have "rules"." he says with a stuck out tongue and air quotations around the word as she snorts in amusement.

"Don't try so hard, dad." she snickers. "We'll go random until we hit the road. Don't want to upset the road trip gods. We'll be together for far too long to have this be a cursed trip. Don't want people to find us both dead in the van from killing each other."

"Yeah." he laughs with shaking shoulders. "Let's avoid that if at all possible."

They take in a large container and basket, the space for snacks alotted and quickly fill it up. They guess at the space in the mini fridge, keeping the frozen and refrigerated foods to a minimum. To save space he suggests hard liquor, she grabs two bottles of wine and he only gives her a little bit of shit for it.

"Thought you were a whiskey drinkin' woman, Bells."

"Thought you were a bartender who shouldn't make fun of peoples choices." she wiggles her eyebrows at him and grins with closed lips.

"Oh damn, alright. Didn't know you liked wine." he holds his hands up in surrender.

"I usually drink it alone but I'll get dehydrated and feel like hell if I drink hard liquor the whole time."

"Fair point."

"Oh shit we don't have to leave room in this for water do we?" she frowns.

"Nah, nah. I got two cases already in there."

"Good man." she pats his back and he smiles, watching her walk down the snack aisle in her comfy traveling clothes. As always, if he allowed himself her leggings would've been a distraction.

She wears a long, red tank top that covers any bits that would make her uncomfortable. Didn't want to be full camel toe for hours in the van. A long, oversized lightweight cardigan hits her mid-thigh, it's in a dark grey to not clash with the black leggings. It annoyed her to an irrational extent when she wore two shades of black that didn't match exactly. She was trying to keep her cool and enjoy herself, not give away what a basketcase she was.

As she bends over to choose between jarred nuts, he sees a hint of a tattoo between her cleavage. He catches himself with a low brow, concentrating for too long in interest. He wondered with the warmer temperatures expected if he'd get to finally see some of her tattoos. He hadn't wanted to ask, that would be too clumsy of him. As always, he would wait for her to share first then follow her lead.

The drive up is filled with stories and feels easy just like their tipsy conversations did. She shares her knowledge of the headliners, he gets to try to not wreck while she dances in her seat. She raps and sings, feet up on the dash as she hands him snacks and he eats out of her fingers as he keeps his eyes on the road. They were both relaxed, except for the understood stiffness from being stuck in a car for over four hours. Once again he finds himself learning something new every time they were together. There's no talk of work, only music and shows they've been too before, previous festival experiences. She had a few more on him. It was a big part of her life and he saw how important it was to her. He wanted to make this festival one of the best she'd been to. The last thing he wanted ot to achieve with this trip was adding himself to the list of guys that let her down.

The check-in and registry goes easier than it ever had for him, but he'd never had VIP tickets to anything before. They get their stack of wrist bands and find a place to set up the van. It's early in the afternoon, the sun out as advertised with a light breeze. The weather couldn't have been better for it. He's grateful to find she wants to help set up and finds her stronger than she looked. She lifted the awning that rested extended out and rested over the sliding side door, set up the tailgate that came out of the double back doors as he hooked up power and water. Their teamwork was nearly seamless, both sitting and breaking into the case of water as they rested in the shade.

"It's still early," she says, looking through a pamphlet with all the festival information. "But the vendors should be open. Not too many people here yet. Probably won't get busy until tonight."

"Usually how it goes." he nods. "You wanna walk around? Get a feel of the place? It'll be packed the rest of the time."

"Yeah." she nods, putting the paper in her crossbody bag. "Lemme get my boots on and we'll go." she changes out of her flats, he gets to see one of her tattoos up close. A black, green and orange retro style Halloween style cat on top of her foot.

"That's cool." he says with a nod and a point of his finger before she pulls on her socks.

"Thanks." she says with a polite smile. "Hurt like a mother fucker." she chuckles. "I guess you will be getting to see my tattoos this weekend won't you?" she smirks and narrows her eyes at him.

"Am I?" he answers with a huff of a laugh.

"I mean I've got my outfits and stuff so yeah." she nods.

"Outfits huh?"

"Yeah. Festival outfits, ya know?" she says, pulling on her worn combat boots. Wanting support and not caring if they got dirty.

"Not really no." he shakes his head.

"You don't like to get dressed up for these things?" she asks with a tilt of her head.

"I guess I do. But it's kinda how I dress anyway." he laughs at himself.

"True you do have a distinct sort of style."

"Thank you?" he says with a wrinkle of his nose, not sure if it was a compliment or not. Luckily for him, it makes her smile.

"You're welcome. I wasn't being shady," she explains. "I like to dress up. And I don't have an excuse to a lot so I like to do it for festivals." she elaborates.

"You do?" he says with the same unsure look.

"Yeah...why? What's that look for?"

"I've just never seen you in anything but jeans and t-shirts." he offers innocently with a shrug.

"It's been cold." she emphasizes. "Once it's warmer I can get a little crazier," she says standing and stretching. "This is a surprise to you I see." she stands with her hands on her hips.

"Honestly, yeah. Didn't seem like a... high fashion sorta girl."

"Not high fashion. I would agree with that." she wags a finger as she speaks. "But I like dressing like a hooker in the '70s from new york." she laughs. "I'm reading myself, but not too harshly. I like that 70's rockstar vibe ya know?" she nods and sticks out her hip.

"I think I do." he nods.

"Well you'll see some tomorrow won't you." she offers with a smile.

-----------

Now familiar with the layout, and having tried too many of the food booths with their discount they walk back through the steadily growing crowd to the van. They waste time, drinking some sub-par beers they'd bought before heading back, sitting on the bed in the back with the doors open. They sit and go over the bands they'd like to make a point to see, having sampled most, if not all of them on the ride down. He finds himself amused as she makes a list, hunched over with crossed legs with her pen and note pad, writing down who they wanted to see, when they played and where and what they could potentially work out for themselves. He supposes he hadn't expected her to be as carefree as he was, as he was a go with the flow sort of guy. There would be no lists or agenda if it was up to him. He was grateful, however, to get to see how her mind worked. She was detailed oriented and thorough, as he was finding out with her texts and emails about setting up the music venue at the bar. She was almost formal in how she handled plans in her head. In her execution of things that weren't business, she allowed an air of casualness to the actions planned when she was with him. His calm and easy going vibe helped bring hers out. She had missed feeling at ease and with him at an event like this with anonymity, she was feeling him slowly pull the lighter side of her out. The beers were certainly helping this move forward faster.

She's more than relieved when it comes to time to sleep, driving always exhausted her for some reason and being out in the heat setting up the van hadn't helped matter any. With emotions high her body needed to sleep and recover. She kept her usual expression of indifference as it came time to settle in, but he was glad to see her face more relaxed around him, seeing it was clear that when not around anyone else, she seemed to carry herself a lot lighter. The thought had crossed his mind that this could be because he was there with her, but again, he tried not to get his hopes up.

"So," she nods, digging through her bag for her pajamas. "Same bed huh?" she has a playful subtle smile as she pulls pajamas out of her bag.

"Yeah. How ya wanna do this?" he asks, pulling the back doors closed and locking them. "Don't wanna... make you uncomfortable or anything." he offers with a motion of his hand.

She pouts her lips in thought, putting her bag back and sitting on her knees in the floor. "I'll be fine," she says with a wave of her hand. "Let's get changed and then get in and see how it goes. Don't know how we're gonna fit in there. Both our big asses might cause some problems." she laughs as he crawls out of the van to give her some privacy to change.

She gives him the go-ahead, kneeling on the bed facing away from him. His eyes go a bit wide for a moment, getting to see her in a pair of soft linen pajama shorts with little skulls on them, rolled at the waist, her top half covered by a tight tank top that seemed to leave little to the imagination. Or perhaps his imagination was just overactive. He clears his throat, a jolt to get ahold of himself. He was a grown man, not some teenager, he could do this. Just turn it off, he says to himself.

"Your turn." she says with a smile, crawling out and brushing by him, sliding on some rubber bottomed house shoes to wait outside for him.

It only takes him a minute, a quick full strip and pulling on some basketball shorts and a tank top of his own, shoving the clothes he'd had on into a bag designated for laundry before he slides open the door again.

"Damn I wish I could change that fast." she chuckles as she slides the door shut behind her. Just as he had, she finds herself paused for a moment as he fluffs pillows on his knees, moving to unfold blankets.

"I have no secrets to share. Wear less clothes maybe?" he says without thinking and then goes back to concentrating on the task at hand more than is necessary.

"Valid advice." she nods and gives a polite smile, watching his guard go up for a moment, but it gave her time to be entirely thirsty at the sight before her. She'd never seen him in anything but a loose band shirt before and as cliche as it felt to have some slow-mo, hearing Dream Weaver playing in the background moment the first time she saw him exposed, it was happening whether she liked it or not. He looked even bigger somehow without the bulk of clothes. She also hadn't been so aware of how fit he was. He looked big, knew he was strong, seeing him lift things from the trucks at the bar but she didn't expect the visible lean muscle that had been hiding under those shirts. He wasn't ripped, there were no veins or sharp angles to him. Everything looked soft and approachable. With his brown skin looking warm and inviting, she told her heart to slow down in her chest.

For a distraction from the heat she felt in her face, she moves to get her laptop, planning on watching something before falling asleep. She digs out her bag and he's once again faced with her body as he huffs out a burst of air. She looked soft and strong. He could see the results of her weight lifting she'd told him about, but as she'd claimed, her love of food kept her soft. But the way her ass looked in her seemingly innocent shorts was making him feel exactly the opposite. He could see her tattoos, the shapes of them from this distance anyway, the ones on her back obscured by her hair.

"So what do you wanna watch?" she asks, crawling on her knees with the laptop childishly before handing it off to him as he lay back in the bed.

"What do we have to catch up on?"

"I thought maybe we could watch the Woodstock documentary since we're here. I haven't seen the one on Netflix yet." she says, sitting next to him, legs crossed and pulling up her hair, her fingers quick as she braided it back. He got a chance to see her tattoos. A glimpse of what looked like a woman with horns on her back, something peeking out from her shorts, quickly hidden when she yanked her tank top back down. Her arm was the most apparent. A woman's hand with long black nails holding an apple, a snake wrapped around her the wrist and the fruit. It took up the space from her elbow to her shoulder with different flowers surrounding it. even carrying to the underside of her arm. It was clean and colorful and he felt it suited her. It looked sexy and dark and he was starting to hope that was a side of her that he would get a chance to see.

"Sounds good to me." he shrugs, but he would've agreed to anything she said, really.

She leans over as he flicks through her queue, reaching for her bag by the bed. "You aren't sensitive to smells and stuff are you?" she asks. He sees a bottle of what he's assuming is lotion appear as she turns back to him.

"Nah. Go ahead." he says, moving to sit the computer on the shelf opposite them. He settles in under the blankets and smells something amazing come from the bottle. It was deep and sweet, like the ripe berries he looked forward to eating in the summer during his hikes in the woods and a wiff of vanilla. It had a twist, something musky like patchouli. He knew he'd never smelled anything like it before, and watching her rub it over her body was something he wasn't able to watch for very long. "That smells really good." he remarks, giving her a nod.

"I'll be getting a lot of sun so I wanted to moisturize," she explains, holding both her hands out to him. He looks at her with confusions. "You want some?" she asks innocently.

"Uh. Sure." he shrugs, why the hell not. Give her a reason to touch him. She takes his hands and works the excess lotion into them, she was so soft against his calloused hands.

"You definitely did need some." she grins, working it into his palms with her thumbs. "Workin' man hands." she chuckles. "Gotta take care of them or they'll end up looking some old gnarled tree." she gives him a friendly smile. Her two hands wrapped around his one at a time, seeing tiny dots and marks of tattoos on his fingers. With both of her hands on his, one at a time, together they were about the same size. They cracked under the pressure she rubbed into them with but they didn't feel tense as she worked in the lotion to his skin. "There. Now you'll smell better too." she teases, tossing the bottle back into the bag and snuggling under the covers.

"What? Do I stink?" he asks and lifts his arm to smell his armpit and the laugh that comes from her surprises him, she shakes the bed, her chest rumbling and her face not hiding her amusement from him.

"No." she shakes her head. "Just meant I thought it smelled good." she answers, propping the pillow up and continuing to chuckle as he raised up to hit play.

Thankfully the close space between them wasn't uncomfortable. They touched but, it wasn't an awkward sort of interaction. The movie ends, she lets out a yawn and moves to close the laptop and leaves it on the shelf.

"It's a little crowded up top," she says quietly, taking her pillow. "You don't kick in your sleep do you?" she asks with a sleepy mumble, moving to the other end of the mattress.

"Not that I'm aware of." he replies, moving to lay on his side.

"Do I need to get the lights?" she asks, sitting up under the covers, ready to move.

"Nah. Dimmer's right here." he says, reaching up and pushing a button that turned off everything except the single strand of lights around the back end of the van's ceiling.

"Thanks," she mutters, laying on her side facing his feet. "Your feet better not stink." she says with a quiet chuckle.

"I don't know." he snorts, moving them and bonking her forehead with them. "Do they?" he grins to himself.

Luckily for him, she lets out a laugh and he feels her smack away at him. "Oh my God, you're such a child, Declan." she continues laughing, a loud sigh that follows as she pats his calf and returns her hands to herself fills him with a warm feeling as he lets his head settle into the pillow.

"Everything locked and alarms set?" she asks, almost mumbled as she snuggles into her pillow.

"Check and check." he says with a nod, feeling a yawn coming on.

"Good. Night, Declan." she says softly.

"Night Bells." he answers just the same, a smile on his face as he falls asleep.

---

The first knock to the van disrupted what had so far been a good nights sleep. But as the night went on, sleep was harder to come by for both of them.

"What was?" she murmurs, looking around as the van wobbles.

"Just some assholes outside." he grumbles, having been woken up by their loud voices already.

"'Kay." she says, slamming her face back into the pillow.

This happens throughout the night, people screaming around them, knocking into the van and she tries to sleep. But with the sudden threats her mind automatically shoots towards, she's continuously woken out of sleep, keeping her from relaxing and getting any rest. It seemed like she could see light from the sun by the time the commotion outside died down and she finally started to doze off again.

@vale0413 @littledeadgirlwalking @jaegeeeeer

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