#im still hunting this bitch and NOTHIN

[tokyoteddywolf]

Trying to shiny hunt Lapras be like-

I lost one of these fuckers to Perish song and I'm still mad about it >:(

[todayisafridaynight]

once more thinking about The Morning Of New Years 2001 and its just now dawning on me that arakawa really chugged two bottles of booze and smoked A Fuck Bitch of ciggies Presumably before noon. like dire situation i know but god damn guy got a lot done in two hours

[1427]

When the Levee Breaks (pt. 1)

Daryl Dixon x OFC

The one in which a stripper that used to know Merle and Daryl shows up at the Atlanta camp. Daryl’s feelings are complicated but mostly he hates her. Right?

Chapt. Setting: Atlanta camp

Chapt. Warnings: degrading and sexist language, season 1 Daryl, he’s not nice in this, probably won’t be for a while. 

Word count: 1600 

A/N : (aka authors warning) this is written in Daryl’s POV soOo idk. Probably not everyone’s bag. Maybe it’s no one’s bag. These first three chapters are kinda rough and I’m sorry but I can only proofread my own stuff so many times before I either post it or delete it forever.

masterlist

17+ mdni for the whole story

After stringin’ a few squirrels for dinner I figure I should get back to camp. ‘m breakin’ through the tree line, and that’s when I see her.  Beatle. Beatle, for the first time in… shit, who knows? Definitely years, I’m not exactly sure how many. Beatle, just fuckin’ sittin’ at my fire. Like somehow she knew it was mine and showed up just to take it from me. Just sittin’. Smile on her face like she belongs there. She doesn’t. She doesn’t belong at this camp, with these people. Shit, Beatle doesn’t even belong alive if I’m bein’ honest. 

No one in this fuckin’ camp can hunt worth a damn.  They’re gonna expect me to feed ‘em, ain’t they? Eventually. Eventually the food’ll run out and it’ll just be me feedin’ fuckin’ everyone. M’not doin’ it. I’m not doin’ shit for ‘em anymore. Why should I? Left my brother on that roof to rot. Naw, I’ll hunt for my damn self. Don’t even know why I’m still fuckin’ here. Should be out findin’ Merle. Honestly, don’t even know why I’m not.

Even before the dead started walkin’. I figured her days were numbered since the first fuckin’ time I met ‘er. Drunk as hell, eyes glassy, loud annoying voice barkin’ like a damn dog. Just yap yap yappin at Merle and me, tits half hangin’ outta her bikini top. Ones cinched in the string like she’d just forgotten to take ‘em out from her last time around the bar. A dumb drunk bitch, Beatle. Stupid fuckin’ stripper name. Who’s dick gets hard over a stripper named Beatle? 

I watch her, just for a second, checkin’ to see if maybe it’s not really her. But it is. ‘Course it fuckin’ is. 

Shane’s the first person I see that’s not doin’ anything, going through some clothes in a duffel bag in the back of a van, figure he might know, “Where the fuck did she come from?” Pointing toward Beatle, her back to us, fifty yards away. Stupid purple hair blowing all over the damn place. 

Shane looks to see who I’m pointing at, but who the fuck else is new at camp? His eyes finally land on Beatle before looking back at me like he’s trying to fight the smile on his damn face, “Why? You interested?”

I’m tryin’ not to lose my shit that she’s even fuckin’ here. “Nah…” I shake my head, “I know ‘er.”

Shane looks up, surprised maybe, and then not. Looking from Beatle back to me again, eyeing us up. “Yeah, makes sense.” 

I squint back at ‘im, “S’that supposed ta mean?” 

He shrugs, making a face, before smiling again, folding another shirt into his pack, “Just that you look like you might know eachother.” He doesn’t say more but I know what he’s not sayin. “Is all.” He adds on the end just to reiterate. 

He means we’re both fuckin redneck trash to anyone who looks at us. I look back over at her, startin’ to get real mad at this jarhead dickhead. Not for her or nothin’. Even if he’s right, he don’t gotta say it. Or maybe it was the way he said it. Or the way he didn’t say it. Like a fuckin’ pussy. 

A part of me feels like standin’ up for myself. Hell, a part of me feels like stickin’ up for Beatle. But, shit, it’s not even worth it.

I cough up a lougie and spit it close to his foot. “So where’d she come from?” I’m fuckin’ repeating myself. I hate fuckin’ repeating myself. 

“Think she just wandered in. Must’ve been lost in the woods or something. Ask Rick. He seems to know everything.”

Can’t keep myself from crackin’ at his petty comment. Always so fuckin’ loud with his contempt, makin’ the situation obvious to anyone with eyes. Messy. 

I decide I’m gonna ask ‘er. She’s gonna see me eventually. Better I approach her first, right? Don’t need to get football tackled in the middle of doin’ somethin’ else when she sees me for the first time. So I pull out a cigarette and start walkin’ over.

She’s talkin’ to Andrea. She fuckin’ would. Both of them loud dumb bitches. Talking about all the dumb shit they miss since everything’s turned to shit. Not talkin’ about people or nothin’ important. Just bullshit like getting your damn nails done, and eating fuckin’ ice cream. 

“Where’d you fuckin’ come from?” Sayin it louder than I meant. More aggressive than I thought my voice would sound. Usually fuckin’ is, though.  The laughing between Andrea and Beatle stops and they look over at me, just standing there waitin’ for it to register. Waitin’ for Beatles reaction. Starin’ ‘er the fuck down like she doesn’t fuckin’ belong here. She doesn’t. 

Beatles eyes light up, getting up from her chair and runnin’ over to me like she’s never been more excited to see someone in her whole damn life. I try to brace myself, but she still rocks me backward as she jumps on me, “Daryl!” Should have stopped her, could have moved just right out of the way. But nah, I let her. 

I don’t hug her back though, just push her off and let her own feet catch her. Dumb bitch doesn’t know personal boundaries. Her voice so close to my ear, “Damn, don’t look so happy to see me.”

Happy to see her? I’m not. Didn’t think I could be so unhappy to see a familiar face in my whole fuckin’ life. But she wasn’t letting that stop her, never fuckin’ did. “I was lost, found this camp. They said I could stay.” She explains, her voice high and happy and annoying as it ever was. At least she’s not drunk. 

Everyone around the fire had gone back to what they were doing. Not watchin’ us anymore. They could probably see as well as Shane that it was obvious how we knew eachother. Well, maybe not exactly how. But they probably had a good idea. 

I dunno what to say to her explanation, so I don’t say nothin’. And she just stands next to me, too close, clearly not gettin’ the hint that I didn’t really wanna talk to her. Just wanted to know why she was here. Now I know. She wasn’t gettin’ that she could and should just go back to her conversation with Andrea about ice skating, or cocktails, or what the fuck ever. 

“What about you?” Her voice quieter for fuckin’ once. 

I shake my head, blowing smoke out, “Merle and me, met up with everyone...” I don’t feel like explaining it, so I don’t. 

Beatle’s lookin’ up at me, her big eyes all wide and excited like a dumbass deer too stupid to move out of traffic, “Merle’s here?” 

This coil of disgust, I feel it snaring it’s way through my abdomen. Yeah, that’s the feeling Beatle usually gives me. Back like it never fuckin’ left. “Nah, not anymore. Sorry to dry your cunt.” 

Beatle says “Ew” fast. Like she’s so disgusted by my vocabulary. Like she isn’t just as crude, the things I heard that little mouth of hers say. 

“He’s not…” she means dead.

“Nah, hes not dead.” Usually this is where I talk something nice about Merle, about how he’s a tough sunuvabitch or some other shit. But not to Beatle. Beatle already knows, and for some reason talking about Merle with her makes me.. fuck… whatever. 

Glancing over, it looks like Beatle’s finally got the hint that I don’t wanna talk to her. She probably really was excited to see me, and I almost feel bad for a second. Before she puts her grubby fuckin’ hand in my face and asks if she can have a cigarette. Needy fuckin’ bitch. 

I laugh right in her face. At the gall of her. That at the end of it all, of everything; she was still trying to get some fuckin’ handout. “Naw.”

“Oh, come on, Daryl, please? I haven’t had one in days!” As if I give a shit what she has or hasn’t had. Hasn’t seen me in years and wants to ask for favors? 

I keep draggin’ on my cigarette, blowin’ the smoke out, and m’not smiling anymore, “I said naw. I don’t see your tits out, why would I give you anything?” Fuck repeating myself.

“You wanna see my tits?” She says it like it’s actually a question. Like she really fuckin’ believes that I’m askin’. 

“You’re a dumb bitch, Beatle, y’know tha’?” I shake my head at her, laughin’ at her again. She’s fuckin’ ridiculous.  Taking another drag I realize the cig is trash, and I almost throw the butt into the fire but decide to hand it to her instead. 

She takes it, with needy fingers like I knew she fuckin’ would. Trying to hide my smile at how fuckin’ pathetic she always seems to be.  Watching her take my trash like it’s fuckin’ gold. She drags it once, I can smell the filter burning and she throws it in the fire. “Next time maybe you’ll share one with me?” Her voice is so sweet it makes me sick. Like I didn’t just call her a dumb bitch to her face. 

Saccharine and fake, that’s how she’s always been. All her cute little movements and motions, all just tryin’ to work me up so I’ll share my smokes or listen to her dumbass whine about anything and everything. Annoying.

“Prolly not.” And I’m already walking away from the fire. From Beatle. Going back to my tent and praying to god, Jesus Christ, don’t let her follow. 

Chewin’ on what she said. Lost, huh? See? Didn’t even belong alive. 

pt 2

[myster-tea]

bored so story shit

here is how scorpion and suki met cause E:

so they first met as kiddos with suki chillin in a tree, seeing smol scorpion and pouncing on him. After suki figured out that he isn't a threat they slowly became friends! Scorpion as a child may have accidentally killed his parents sooo he lived with his aunt and uncle who were not good at taking care of a child. Cara (unknown and red’s adopted mother) tried adopting Scorpion but according to scorpion’s village or whatever he cant leave there until hes 18 even if he has almost  d  i   e  d multiple times. Cara literally had to burn down her house, move to another house far away, teleport the half dead kid scorpion to her and his aunt STILL got scorpion back. One day something happens so red, cara and unknown dont see scorpion until they are older. Then when Scorpion is now i think around his late 20s? He runs into Himiko, The now girlfriend of Ryan who runs a villain group with no name. Himiko takes Scorpions mask cause idk, they fight over it for a few minutes and then Himiko finally gives up out of boredom and gives him the mask back. They make up and are ok now, Himiko is like “ hey wanna join this villain organization?” and scorpion is like “k sure that sounds pog” So he joins, meets everyone. Blaze; The younger brother of Ryan, Himiko; zombie gurl that just showed up one day and no one knows where the fuck she came from, and Ryan; The leader of this villain thing. They go on a mini hunting trip, almost get caught by some fancy police officers (knights) go back to base, sleep. oh no, himiko disappeared!! :0

she was caught by the villain circus. So Milo shows up while Blaze,Ryan and Scorpion are searching for her and they are like “ hey what the f u q did you do with zombie gurl” And milo is like “ fuq yall i aint telling ya S H I T” Scorpion and Milo fight for what feels like forever while Ryan and Blaze just stand there.

Milo finally gives up after the two of them’s “got ur mask u b i t c h” battle. They say that Someone named Unknown Took himiko. So they yeet milo into a pocket void thing that scorpion just casually has. And they walk towards the hospital that unknown “worked” at. Blaze i think just left  cause hes not mentioned for the rest of this scene. Ryan casually simps for unknown while scorpion just is like “*asexual&aromantic silence*” he yeets unknown into the void and yeets milo out, knocking him- OH FUCK NO HE DIDN'T YEET MILO HE DRAGGED MILO NEVERMIND IM STUPID ._. so he still yetted unknown but not milo. They go to get himiko back, who is almost dead (i know shes a zombie but she can still like- die?? its hard to explain.) they go back to the base, himiko heals, they all chill. Scorpion gets a bad dream and is like “i'm gonna peace out for a sec” everyone is like “k pog whatever as long as you don't get us killed” S scorpion forgets about the enemy in the void. So hes like “ oh fuck you're still here” and suki is like “yes, i fuckin am, it sucks” So they kinda just trauma bond for an hour. He figures out that Suki is mind controlled by the evil axolotl man (aka aqua) and scorpion tries to break the mind control after suki explains the weird ass emotions thing list that breaks mind control. Suki is about to just say adios to herself like “aye pain is the last resort so b y e e e e e” and scorpion is like “ no bitch u livin” Aqua controls unknown and is like “ mfer nothins workinnnnnnnnn” “ time to just say adios”

Long story short they just end up kissing in the trauma bond void.

everything is pog shes not controlled anymore.

Suki ends up saying bye bitches to the circus and joins scorpion’s side.

they end up having to go to the circus and get the kids (raz and daz) so they join too and they all chill with ryan,himiko,and blaze.

Suki is like “ hey scorpion i like u”

and scorpion is like “ BOI I CANT LIKE YA BACK SO W H Y’

and suki is just like “ cause u cute and u helped me a lot”

So they get some magic jewelry to let scorpion feel romantic traction, no one knows if its just romantic attraction but whatever.

Scorpion puts on the necklace and just passes out for a few seconds. and after a while they start dating. and now that i think about it Unknown kinda just did a conversion camp thing on scorpion but we are just gonna ignore that. 

They date for a while and are wholesome as fuq. Scorpion has this weird ass dream that somehow Suki is in as well. They figure out they were actually childhood friends so thats pog. After a year or so they get married but how scorpion proposed was now with a ring orlike going to a nice place. He literally woke up, Pinned suki down, and was like “wanna marry me?” and suki is confused as fuck and is like “uhhhh suuuure???” scorpions like “k pog” and falls back asleep. like it was just super casual and i think that's hilarious. They get married after someone at their wedding tries to kill suki. Then a few days after the wedding Suki comes back to the base after work holding a whole ass b a b y (who was arlo) Scorpion is like “SUKI WE DON'T NEED MORE KIDS” and Suki is like “ I DON'T CARE THIS CHILD IS NOW OUR SON” scorpion warmed up to arlo after a while and everyone joked about arlo being their actual like- biological child and every time the villain parents got super defensive about it while arlo is like “ why must i be a joke QwQ” 

arlo grows up and that's where we are currently in the story! 

[leviskokoro]

Mari In Twisted Wonderland | Abridged Version | Savanaclaw

Chapter 2

Days after the Overblot Incident and Revenge Unbirthday Party, Mari gets another dream and this time it’s about the furries-- I mean, animals. She didn’t really get what it meant.

Lunch happened and Ruggie stole Grim’s lunch. Mari was confused but then they were called to the Headmaster’s office so she couldn’t question it. 

Crowley explained shit to the shared brain cell trio and Mari. Blah blah blah. Grim got upset that he can’t play magift and show off. Mari rationalized with him that he won’t be able to show off if he’s only a beginner and that she’ll treat him to canned tuna to cheer him up. He seemed to be having a terrible day, getting his lunch stolen and then being told he can’t participate in a sports event. 

She asked Crowley if he was searching for a way home but quickly realizes that he didn’t seem to be doing it. Though, she didn’t really say anything about it since the demon brothers were probably looking for a way to get her back. 

Then they got back to their dorms later but Crowley came to visit and explained that students were getting injured and shit was real sus since there were a lot of them. Grim told him that he didn’t want to help but he pretty much just forced them by saying the Ramshackle Dorm wasn’t free. He also bribed Grim by saying he’d let him participate in the magift tournament. Though, Mari was aware that he was lying through his teeth. However, she said nothing since she didn’t want to break Grim’s spirit again. Plus, she was going to help regardless of the situation. Might as well be helpful while she’s stuck in there. 

So the investigation started. They looked in the infirmary and Mari noticed that there were no Savanaclaw students that were injured but figured that maybe the culprit hasn’t got to them yet. Then they interrogated two injured students from Heartslabyul and they didn’t get any helpful answers so they tried looking for more clues. Only to fail and go back to the Ramshackle Dorm. 

Ace visited and they explained the situation to him. But then Deuce ran in and yelled about how Trey got injured too. So they ran to the Heartslabyul dorm and saw him. 

Mari was genuinely proud of Grim for being nice enough to give Trey the can of tuna she bought for him earlier in order to cheer him up. 

Riddle came by to check on Trey and then explained how he got injured. Then Cater pulled everyone excluding Trey to a different room and let Mari tell them about the other injured students. 

So, the Heartslabyul gang + Grim and Mari went to investigate together and saw the Pomefiore Dorm, which was probably Mari’s favorite dorm so far. It was certainly pretty. 

And now for Mari’s first impression of Rook: “Dang he kinda hot” 

Rook will remember that

Then the rest of the gang decided that he didn’t look strong enough so the culprit probably wouldn’t wanna target him, then went on to Octavinelle to see the tweels. 

First impression of the tweels as she and the rest ran for their dear lives: “Jesus fuck they’re creepy” 

They escaped and Mari finally remembered what she noticed about the injured students again. “Savanaclaw might be the next targets since there weren’t any injured students from there” 

So they got to the Savanaclaw Dorm and met Jack. She was like “oh you’re the hot furry” and he was like “excuse me?” Then he tells them that he won’t be targetted and that they should fuck off. 

Then they got in trouble with Savanaclaw delinquents and Leona and Ruggie came. Leona recognized Mari as the herbivore that stepped on his tail. The delinquents get angry but he still drinks respecc women juice and just challenges the gang to magift. Since Mari had no magic, she had to sit this one out. 

She goes home and sleeps, but then realizes she can’t and decides to have a midnight walk because she hasn’t seen enough horror movies to know that’s not the best idea. Then she meets Malleus. Probably thinks he’s the hottest guy she’s seen in NRC besides Leona and Jamil. 

“Oh, you are a child of man” “And you’re a man with horns”

She isn’t particularly intimidated by him. Like— She’s met Lucifer and has been nearly killed by him twice. Some strange dude with horns got nothin’ on him. Mari asked who he is and he seemed to be surprised by that, then he smirked. 

Dude said it would be better if she didn’t know and let her call him whatever she wanted. She was like “Aight” then he left. 

Mari goes to sleep and has another dream. She wonders why she’s having another dream about animals and why does the lion look familiar. Then she woke up, wondering what it meant. Barbatos was rather vague when he gave her his parting gift. 

On the way to school with Grim, she told him about the Tall handsome dude with horns. He dubbed him “Tsunotarou”. She liked the name a lot and decided to use it. 

They meet up with Cater and Riddle, who tell them that Jamil got injured. So they go meet him. 

‘Ah fuck his voice is hot too’ Mari thought when she met him. It seemed that she was right about Kalim, he was quite friendly. 

So they finally found out about Ruggie but couldn’t catch him. Then Jack appeared again. He’s like “Why are you working so hard for other people’s sake?” 

Ace is like “Lmao we just wanna get picked for the magift tournament and show off. We don’t give a shit about these guys.”

Mari sighed and said, “Why is literally everyone in this school so selfish?” And Jack questions her as to her reason for doing it. Then she replies with “Well-- Crowley kinda said that living in the Ramshackle Dorm wasn’t free. Though, he didn’t really have to force me since I would’ve helped regardless because I just like feeling helpful.”

Then Jack told the shared braincell trio that they’re worse than he thought. Though, he also mentioned that he didn’t trust Mari’s type. As in, “Guys that just do things for others” 

Ace was like “no u” 

Then Jack was like “Fight me bitch. If you want me to spill my guts, you gotta defeat me”

Deuce went bad boy like “fuck yeah lets go dude” and they fight

And they win. The rest of the guys are surprised that Mari knows how to fight. She’s like “The Future King of Hell taught me martial arts for like a year” and they’re not sure whether she’s being serious or if she’s crazy. 

And then Jack went into this whole spiel about how cowardly tricks make him nauseous and how he wanted to use his own power to claim victory at the top. Then he finally spills the beans on what Ruggie’s unique magic is and how Savanaclaw is in on the plan. 

“Why would they?” “How well you do in the magift tournament can have a big impact on your future, right? So I can’t say I don’t understand their feelings” 

“GRRRRRRRRRRRR” 

Mari is like “Dude, chill. Understanding someone doesn’t mean you agree with them.” 

Jack replied with “The now comes before the future! Show what you can do now!” 

Then goes onto yet another spiel about how he can’t stand Leona and how that guy is amazing but never gives his full effort. 

Ace whispers to Mari like “Damn he tsundere for his own dorm leader” 

And Jack tells them that Savanaclaw is going to target the dorm leader of Diasomnia, Malleus Draconia during the day of the magift tournament. 

Riddle and Cater come by like “Lol thanks for telling us” Then Riddle was going to tell them the plan but Jack was like “bitch im not gonna help. Im gonna do this shit myself. Bye” 

Mari countered with “What have you accomplished on your own?” 

He’s just >:(

“Smart wolves hunt as a pack” “Ugh fine. But if your plan sucks, I’m leaving.” 

So after hearing Riddle out, he’s like “Aight I’ll help.” 

Everyone came to an agreement and went to their respective dorms. Mari has another dream, then thought “Bruh he really wanted to be king then when he became king, he didn’t even do it right.”

“Oi, wake up.” 

Mari felt someone shake her awake. She groaned and swatted away the hands, wanting to sleep more. It didn’t quite register in her mind that someone broke into her room. It was only until her blanket was tugged away from her. The cool air hit her bare body. She shuddered and her eyes finally fluttered open to see Jack with a flustered expression before he threw the blanket over her body. 

“WHY THE HELL ARE YOU NAKED?!” 

“WHY ARE YOU IN MY ROOM?!” 

“Tch.” He looked away and rubbed his neck. “I came from my morning run to wake you up early. I couldn’t let you oversleep on the day of the tournament. S-Sorry for breaking into your room…”

Grim perked up and was motivated to go immediately so that he could collect his reward to play in the tournament. “Come on! Let’s go already!” 

“Just let me get dressed and I’ll be right with you. Be patient.” 

For the rest of that morning, Jack couldn’t look at her directly. When he did, images of that embarrassing situation all came back to his mind 

So they got to the stadium. Shit hit the fan but everything was fine because Heartslabyul revealed their plan. Diasomnia is perfectly alright. 

Leona got pissed and he revealed his unique magic. Sand is everywhere. He’s trying to kill Ruggie. 

Mari is like “Ugh I hate sand” 

Jack also revealed his unique magic and turned into a full furry-- I mean, wolf. This surprised Leona, which gave Riddle the opportunity to collar him. 

Lilia be spittin facts. 

Hearing Leona yell about agony and despair and that things will never change kinda made Mari’s heart hurt because it felt… familiar. How hopeless he seemed to feel. It reminded her of how she was before coming to the Devildom. 

Then he overblotted.

Then they beat the sit out of him. Mari is like “Does this usually happen?” 

So the magift tournament went on and Savanaclaw still got to play because the injured students wanted revenge. Grim also reminded Crowley about his reward so he was allowed to play against Savanaclaw. 

Grim did an oopsie and tried to do a special move but it backfired and hit Mari in the head instead. She had to be rushed to the infirmary. 

She woke up to see the shared braincell trio and the furry boys. Ace told her that she’s been asleep for so long that the closing ceremony was over and they’re dismantling the venue. 

Leona told her that Diasomnia was the champion. 

Ace and Deuce talked about how good Malleus was for a moment. Jack was like “No one can win if they give up before they try.” Mari agreed with him. He then said that he was going to beat Diasomnia fair and square next year. 

Leona was like ““Underhanded tactics” require one’s strength too” and she asked if he even felt bad. He was just like lmao no 

A wild Babie has appeared. Leona went >:0 but introduced Cheka to them. 

Mari squealed at the sight of such an adorable child. Internally she was saying “I’ve seen Cheka for 4 seconds but if anything were ever to happen to him, I’d kill everyone in this room and then myself.”

Jack: So the root of all Leona’s pain is… 

Mari: The cutest lil angel ever! 

Cheka: Are you guys my uncle’s friends? 

Everyone else laughed at Leona except Mari who was busy introducing herself to the lil babie. 

Leona will remember that. 

Timeskip to when Mari went to sleep and saw the creepy shadow in the mirror. She’s lowkey shook but then she woke up. Seeing the time was pretty early in the morning, she decided to have a lil stroll to see the sun rise. 

She found a good spot and sat down, singing lightly to herself. 

The sound of leaves being crushed under one’s feet reached her ears from behind her. Mari didn’t bother looking up at the source, being too enamored with seeing the sky as its hues morph from navy to a golden yellow. The dark clouds turned into tangerine and peach ones. She gave a dreamy sigh. 

“Oi, Mari.” She heard the gruff voice of Jack. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh you know, just… Watching that gorgeous sunrise. I’ve lived in a land with no sun for a year so seeing it like this is quite the blessing,” She responded, still not looking up. 

“Seriously? I’ve never heard of a place like that.” Jack sat beside her. 

“Yeah. Living in Hell was quite the experience but it was fun.” Mari chuckled lightly. 

Her words caused him to furrow his eyebrows, wondering if she was kidding or not. He shook his head, deciding that it wasn’t important. He turned to her. 

“So… about that time…” 

“Hm? What time?” Mari finally looked at him, confusion swirling in her pools of chocolate. She tilted her head. 

His face felt warm as the blood rose to his tanned cheeks. “Y-You know what I’m talking about!”

Upon seeing his flustered expression, she finally remembered what he meant. Her mouth formed an ‘o’. What could he possibly gain from bringing that up now? 

“I wanted to apologize properly…” He spoke up again, rubbing the back of his neck. “I shouldn’t have violated your privacy like that and broke into your room.” He finally had the courage to look back into her eyes. Golden hues meeting chocolate. 

“How can I make it up to you?” 

Mari saw this opportunity and a smirk crept up onto her lips. “You could make it up to me by letting me pet you.” 

He yelped and his eyes widened to the size of saucers. His ears stood erect. “Wh-What?!” 

She pouted. “I thought you wanted to make it up to me? This is the least I could ask for after you broke into my room and saw me naked!” 

“Okay! Okay! Just don’t yell or someone’s gonna hear you.” 

Mari stopped and looked at him with expectations glinting in her eyes. 

He leaned downward. His head was lowered and ears curled back, anticipating her touch. 

She grinned and laid her hand over his head, caressing it tenderly. “Oh my~ Your hair is quite soft. I see that you groom yourself well, Jack. How nice~” She cooed, continuing to pet him with such pure glee swimming in her chocolate eyes. “How are you liking this? Does it feel nice~?” 

“Tch… Just because I’m letting you do this, doesn’t mean I like it,” He told her. 

“But your tail is wagging.” She pointed out. Blood spurted to his face and he pulled away. 

“Alright, that’s enough!” He exclaimed to her, trying not to show her that he was flustered. “We’re going to be late for school if we don’t hurry.” 

Mari glanced at the sun and nodded. “Oh! You’re right. I’ll go wake up Grim and head to class. Thanks again, Jack.” 

“Don’t expect me to let you do that again. We’re not friends or anything.” He walked away from her. 

A smile graced her lips as she watched him leave with a mirthful gaze. “Alright,” she whispered and made her way to the Ramshackle Dorm.

[hotshithaxxorbitch]

💝

alrite strap in bitches this is gonna b LONG and its gonna b GAY

i could never, ever have the kinda bond i have with u w anyone else we share somethin so deep and intense n unique and specific and i cant and never have been able 2 fathom spendin my life w anyone but u

even when i thot slash knew you would never have romantic feelings for me, u were still the only person i wanted to spend my days with

obvs this is not to say i dont love and treasure the other people in my life, i always have, we both kno i gotta nuff love in this gd body for about five diff people, but uv always been different

u were the first human being i ever spoke to, ever saw, ever heard, ever touched for the most formative yrs of my life, you were literally all i had in the world

i used to think, even as a friend, i prob needed u more and cared abt u more, and that didnt bother me bc im just kinda Like This but i guess i finally realized it wasnt as unbalanced as i thought when u hunted me down after i went off the deep end

even tho ive known u my whole life it took me... a long time, longer than id like to admit tbh, to figure out how u expressed ur care for others, but i feel like we both deserve a lil leniency there since our upbringings were uh... unconventional lol

i have loved u basically my entire life and maybe people think thats stupid or crazy or some shit but its tru, and uve never done anything that didnt just make me love you more when i tried my absolute gd hardest to push you away, u never let me slip away, even when i literally slipped away, u found me, u literally saved my life

and not just that night on the bathroom floor, or just in the game, but all the time growing up, every single day, u saved my life, because i knew that someone was out there and i wasn’t fuckin alone u save my life every day by continuin to be in my life

there is nothin in the infinite multiverse i would trade for u, nothin i dont care if thats crazy or selfish a magic genie could come up to me tomorrow and tell me they could undo the game, undo all our horrible trauma and give us normal happy lives but if the price was no longer havin u in my life? i couldnt do it

maybe our relationship isnt conventional and maybe it hasnt always been the healthiest and maybe it still isnt all the time, but that doesnt matter, bc its ours, im yours, and youre mine and i will treasure that forever and wouldnt give it up for anythin

this is just to say, i love u, u goddmn asshole

[all-hail-the-witcher]

blaze it bitches

in honor of weed day have this mess ______

ship: ralbertxweed

genre: the biggest load of crack to ever crack

warnings: weed juice, panera, there’s a shane madej quote, t h r e e quotes by Mr Michael Himself, uhhh, cowboys, oh mothman, general idiocy, and all credit for fruity pebbles to my good nugget mikey

words: 1041 it’s baddd yalll

editing: nope

_________

Race idly spun a pen on the counter, waiting for the clock to hit 10 so he could begin to close. He wasn't sure why he had chosen to work the closing shift at Panera. Pretty much no one came in after 9, especially on a Monday. Currently the only patrons were a group of annoying teenage girls more interested in taking snapchats than talking to each other, an elderly couple eating soup in the corner, and a high school age girl and boy sitting in a booth, eating nothing but bread and sweet tea, having an intense discussion about whales.

In essence, Race was bored out of his mind.

Until exactly 9:48 when Albert walked through the door, waving around two to go cups from starbucks. “Raaaaceeerrrrrrrr!” he sang awkwardly, tripping over his own feat and spilling a few drops of what looked like tea on the floor.

“Al get your high ass outta here,” Race sighed. “I’m workin and you’re just gonna bother me.”

“Butttt cupcakkkeeeee,” Albert whined. “I know how to get mothman!”

“Mothman ain’t real and neither am I,” Race muttered, taking the rag and wiping down the counter. “Now get outta here before Jack makes you.”

Albert sighed. “Least drink the tea I brought you?”

Race sighed, just wanting Albert to not get him fired for once. “Fine.”

Albert smirked.

“But then you have to go, alright?” Race said, holding the cup to his lips and taking a sip.

Albert plunged his hand into the pocket of his sweatshirt and pulled out a handful of fruity pebbles, dropping several on the floor. “O-kayyy.”

Race made a face. “What's in this tea Al? It don't taste like nothin from starbucks.”

Al gave him a half smirk. “You like my weed juice?”

“Weed juice? Is this- you made tea out of weed?” Race looked at the paper cup first in shock and then in awe. “Wait, this is brilliant.”

“Course it is,” Albert proclaimed. “I invented it.” He reached his hand back into his pocket for more fruity pebbles. “Want some munchies?”

“Sure why not.” Race could slowly feel the affectionately named “weed juice” taking affect. Hopefully he wouldn’t break too many things while he was closing.

“Racer can you go kick out those teen- wait a second, what are you doing here Al?” Jack looked at Albert skeptically before wrinkling his nose up in disgust. “Alright I don't know which of you brought the grass but I can smell it and I’m not dealing with this tonight so I suggest you two get outta here before you accidentally explode the place.”

Albert’s eyes widened in excitement. “We can go hunting for mothman!” he exclaimed, looking at Race expectantly.

Well, he wasn't gonna remember this in the morning anyway so might as well. “Yeah!” Race agreed, throwing off his apron and hat and wailing them at Jack.

“Try not to get arrested!” Jack called after them, shaking his head.

Once outside, Albert led Race to his car and opened the trunk. “Okay so I figured it out! Mothman wont show us to himself cause we don't look like him so we gotta dress in his truest form.” He handed Race a cheap cowboy costume and a hat.

“Mothman’s a cowboy?”

“Duhhhhh,” Albert rolled his eyes. “Cowboys are the most most cryptic, and sos mothman! It’s how’s he’s stayed hidden all these years.”

Race nodded solemnly in agreement, hastily pulling the costume on over his clothes and jamming the hat on his head.

“Oh I only have one pair of boots though,” Albert frowned. “Guess we’ll have to share.”

Race frowned in agreement. “Oh!” he perked up. “I’ll wear one of your boots and you can wear one of my vans!”

“Yes!” Albert pulled one of Races shoes off of his foot, knocking him backwards. “Now we just gotta go to the spot!”

•••

“The spot” turned out to be behind a bush in a kids playground.

“Are you sure we’ll find mothman here?” Race asked, peeking through his dollar store binoculars at his dark surroundings.

“My sources say yes.”

“You have sources?” Race asked skeptically.

“Course.” Albert took a swig from his to go mug.

“Are you still drinkin that weed juice?”

“Nah.” Albert looked at the cup fondly. “It’s my munchies. I can taste the colors.”

Race leaned over. Munchies sounded good right now. “Can I have some?”

“No! My munchies!” Albert wrapped the cup protectively in his arms.

“I want!”

“No!”

“Give!”

“Quiet you’re gonna scare away mothman!”

Race shut up immediately. He didn’t want to scare away his cryptid friend. He had to film a tik tok video with him and become famous!

After ten minutes though, he couldn’t be silent any longer.

“I’m tired,” he whispered loudly. “When is mothman gonna get here?”

Albert knit his eyebrows together, considering while he chewed on a few red fruity pebbles. “Oh I know!” he exclaimed. “Let’s talk about stuff mothman would like so he knows we’re friends.”

Race was intrigued. “Like what?”

“Hmmm,” Albert pondered for a few minutes before beginning to rant. “Crickets are scary but rubbing your legs together under a blanket as such is nice so crickets made some points i guess.”

Race nodded in agreement. “And like,” he thought for a second. “Ok so whales slap. But also they’re big and they don’t need to be.”

“Whales are very cryptic,” Albert yawned. “And I guess no offense to anyone who actually likes them but kiwi birds are weird and why did they need a fruit named after them and why are they fuzzy and who gave the Fruits the right to be fuzzy like what the fuck- WAIT WHICH CAME FIRST THE BIRD OR THE FRUIT- god they’re as cryptic as whales.”

“That’s a good point.” Race laid back in the grass. “Maybe if we go to sleep mothman will show up to kiss us goodnight.”

“You’re so right!” Albert quickly joined Race in the grass. “I’m tired anyway. So this is like,” he pressed his lips together, thinking hard, “killing two birds with one egg.”

“Birds work for the government,” race muttered. “Night Albie.”

“Night racer.”

Race dozed off, dreaming of yodeling with mothman and getting verified on tik tok.

__________

okay look idk either if you wanna read actual good high ralbert shit go to @papesdontsellthemselves cause I basically just stole his brand (and his quotes) for this fic so

feedback is always appreciated hmu to be on the tag list

tag list @fairly-awkward-trashcan @well-the-kids-do-too @racetrackcook @ughwaitwhat @aw-jus-let-em-try @tommy-s-s0cks @voice-foundshoe-lost @stopthe-presses @ridin-in-style @pinecovewoods @i-got-no-clue-what-im-doing @bencookisagod @be-more-chill-evan-hansen @stellar-alpaca @saxoph-ella @smolcanadiankid @disney-princess-sized @the-newsies-justice-for-zas-blog @insane-tomato @spot-conlon-king-of-brooklyn @have-we-got-news-for-you @thatfancyclam @myidkwhatmynameisblog @legoflambwrites @not-a-scam @albertdasillvaprotectionsquad @entschuldigung-bitches @thebroaaesthetic @tea-and-theater @seasickdolphin @auspicioustarantula @newsies-of-ny @mrs-higgins @sunshine-e-cigarettes  @spot-me50-papes @papesdontsellthemselves @deathcast-s @the-poodles-of-pulitzer

@hopefully-not-the-ghostbusters @humanracoon @irondad-spiderson-duo @albert-eats-cookie-cake 

[write-havoc]

Of Sons and Daughters Ch 12

Summary: Arthur is tasked by Dutch to watch over a young woman who had just lost the last member of her family she had left. That young woman just so happens to be the daughter that Dutch told no one else about.

This is a non canon AU with no major spoilers

Fandom: Red Dead Redemption 2

Pairing: Arthur Morgan/Original Female Character

Status: Ongoing

Contains: swearing, PG 13 smut

Intended for readers 18+ of age only

Masterlist in my bio

After Arthur dresses, he heads out the back door of the manor house to meet Dutch and John in one of the outbuildings. The muggy swamp air hangs thick around him, but it doesn’t hinder him from trudging through the soft earth toward the dilapidated former slave quarters. The distinct sound of someone being beaten allows him to pinpoint exactly which building they have the O’Driscoll held captive, so he heads that way.

“Arthur!” Sadie’s raspy voice calls out as she rushes up to him from behind. “Hang on!”

He pauses, but continues on his way without looking at her. “Now, Sadie, why don’t you head on back inside-“

“No,” she insists as she catches up to walk beside him. “There’s no way I’m not getting my hands on that O’Driscoll. I promised I’d make every single one of them pay for what they did to me and my Jake and I aim to keep that promise.”

Arthur stops begrudgingly and turns to her with a sigh, knowing she won’t drop the issue. “We need to get some information from him first, okay? I promise it ain’t gonna be good for him; he’s gonna suffer. But we need to get out of him where Colm is before we let ‘im die. If I let you in there, can you promise me you won’t go blowing his head off before we get what we want?”

She looks him dead in the eye as she answers. “Yeah. I promise I’ll let you torture Colm’s location out of him before I kill him.”

Arthur’s not convinced. Especially with the way she looked during the battle against the O’Driscolls that ended not even an hour ago. The sight of her firing off rounds into the enemy and screaming the whole while like a banshee made her look like a woman possessed. And that rage doesn’t just go away.

“Leave your guns out here,” he finally says, pointing to the ground.

She lets out a huff, knowing that he has a point. With the blind rage she feels every time she even hears the name O’Driscoll, she can’t trust herself not to kill the man the second she sees him.

“Fine.” She drops her pistols on the ground and follows Arthur the rest of the way to the broken down shack at the edge of the property.

Once the pair enters the building, they see the young O’Driscoll, his arms and legs both strapped down to a chair. Considering the two black eyes and fat lip he’s sporting, Dutch and John must have already worked him over.

“Arthur,” Dutch greets him as if he’s walked into a party. “And Mrs. Adler,” he adds, though his voice drops slightly.

The woman in question stares daggers at the O’Driscoll before her, but she restrains herself from pouncing on him. Rather, she moves back to lean against the wall as she crosses her arms over her chest in a wordless gesture saying that she’ll be hands off on this. At least right now.

Dutch takes notice then continues. “John and I were just asking our new friend here about his boss, but he’s been less than forthcoming. Perhaps you could try your hand, Arthur. You always were very persuasive .”

Arthur knows what that means; he’s to beat the information out of him. To make sure the O’Driscoll is good and intimidated, Arthur makes a show of rolling up his sleeves slowly and taking his hat off before leaning down to the young man’s face.

“Where’s Colm?” he growls, hoping the man will make this easy by cracking immediately. But of course, he doesn’t.

“Fuck you,” the O’Driscoll spits out in his Irish accent, though it’s muffled from the blood pooling in his mouth from the blows he’s already suffered.

Arthur’s only response is a swift punch to the guy’s gut, knocking the wind from him. As he coughs and sputters to try to get the air that had been punched out of him back into his lungs, Dutch lights up a cigar and casually saunters closer.

“It’s only going to get harder, O’Driscoll,” Dutch calls out in a sing song way. “Best bet is to talk now.”

The man flicks his gaze around all the faces in the room, to the younger dark haired man with the scars to his right, then to the two men standing in front of him and finally to the woman leaning on the back wall with murder in her eyes. “Colm told me about all ‘a yous.” He fixes his gaze on the oldest man that he’s recognized as Dutch. “You especially. You can’t just murder a man’s kin, his brother , and expect not to pay.”

“I did pay!” Dutch yells as he trades position with Arthur to stand directly in front of their captive. “Colm murdered someone dear to me and I loved her more than Colm ever cared about his good for nothing brother, I assure you of that. He still owes me .” To punctuate the point, Dutch stubs out his lit cigar on the back of the man’s hand, eliciting a growl of pain from him.

Arthur moves to the man’s side and grabs him by the hair, wrenching his head up to look at him. “Where’s Colm?” he growls as he rears back like he’s going to punch him again.

“Y-You can’t do nothin’ about it,” the O’Driscoll answers in a moment of weakness, his resolve to remain loyal to his leader momentarily waning with the prospect of another blow.

“Do about what?” John asks as he steps closer.

The young man steels himself, mustering the courage to hold out. “Don’t matter. You ain’t gettin’ nothin’ more from me!”

Before anyone else can react, Sadie flies out of nowhere brandishing her hunting knife with both her hands. She swings the blade above her head and down, burying it deeply in the man’s left thigh.

“Where’s Colm?!” she screams. “Answer us!”

The O’Driscoll squeals in pain at the sudden shock of being stabbed. “You crazy bitch!”

Arthur pulls Sadie back by the shoulder before she can do any more damage, cursing himself for not noticing that she had kept her knife on her. He decides to make the best out of the situation and wraps his hand around the blade still stuck in the O’Driscoll’s leg. He wiggles it a little to produce more pain, hoping that he will finally break. “Last chance, O’Driscoll. Answer or I’ll pull this knife out and watch you bleed to death. Slowly. And painfully.”

He looks up to Arthur, barely able to catch his breath out of pain and fear. His resolve crumbles quickly at the prospect that the man in front of him is telling the truth. For as much as Colm O’Driscoll has spouted that the gang always comes first, the decision to actually try to save his own life comes easy for the young man staring death in the face.

“Saint Denis,” he finally whispers. “Colm’s in Saint Denis. Pinkertons picked him up right after you didn’t show up to the meet. Said he weren’t no use to them no more.”

Dutch steps forward. It’s certainly good to have that information, but something else has been bothering him. “How did you know we were here at Shady Belle?” Depending on the answer, they may have to move camp yet again.

“W-We saw two of your men in a wagon in Valentine,” he starts to explain. “Followed ‘em here.”

Arthur figures that’s possible. When it became clear that Emmeline had permanently relocated from her home, he had sent out Sean and Lenny to pick up Emmeline’s chickens and coop to bring back to Shady Belle. Neither of the two young men have a whole lot of experience and may not have realized they were being followed all the way back to camp.

“Did you tell the Pinkertons?” Arthur asks instantly. That’s the real question. If they know where they are, they could already be on their way here.

“We’re on the run from them now just like you are!” the O’Driscoll bites back. “We ain’t talked to those lyin’ bastards since they took Colm!”

It seems to everyone that the man is probably telling the truth, so their camp is safe for now. But there’s still the issue of Colm.

“Where exactly in Saint Denis are they keeping him?” Dutch asks.

“How the hell should I know!” When Arthur winds up to punch him, the O’Driscoll backs off. “No, no, no! Wait!” he calls out anxiously. “Theys gonna hang him today. I swear! That’s why we went after yous.” His eyes flit around the room, knowing that he’s said too much. “S-So you’ll get your revenge anyway. Even if you do nothin’,” he tries, hoping they don’t put it together.

Dutch shares a look with Arthur, the two of them instantly picking up the real reason behind the O’Driscolls’ quick attack.

“As much as I hate that man,” Dutch starts, “I have to admit that Colm’s smart enough that he’s managed to slip the noose many times before. I also know that he’s smart enough to realize that if he’s going to be strung up anywhere near where I am, I’d make sure he gets properly hung. So this little skirmish we just engaged in tells me for certain that Colm has a plan in place to escape his execution today. And that he doesn’t want me to ruin it. So thank you for confirming that.” Dutch gives Arthur a nod, wordlessly conveying his orders to the younger man.

Without a second’s notice, Arthur pulls the large knife from the O’Driscoll’s leg, making sure to twist it on the way out. As the man screams in pain, Arthur hands the blade back to Sadie and gestures back to the man, making it clear that she’s to dispatch of him.

“Hey, wait!” the man yells. “I told ya what ya wanted!”

His plea doesn’t stop Sadie as she walks forward to him. “You O’Driscolls ruined my life!” She suddenly stabs him in the gut with a punch. “Killed my husband!” She stabs him again. “Forced yourselves on me!” Her hand starts to slip on the hilt as it’s covered with blood, but she continues. “ You ruined my life! ” Using all the power she can muster, she forces the blade up and under his rib cage, puncturing his heart and killing him instantly. His head lolls to the side as the life leaves his body.

Despite the fact that he’s long gone, Sadie keeps stabbing him repeatedly anywhere she can. Once his torso starts to lose it’s shape from the repeated wounds, Arthur gently puts his hand on her shoulder, drawing her out of her rage.

“He’s dead, Sadie,” he says softly. “That’s enough.”

Breathing roughly, she pulls back from the man slumped in the chair and looks down at her bloodstained hands. She wonders just what kind of person she’s become through all of this. Is she even recognizable as herself anymore?

John jumps in, unaware of the battle raging in Sadie’s mind. “You really think after how many O’Driscolls we just killed today that they can still rescue Colm from Saint Denis?”

“I reckon there’s more than enough of those bastards left to save Colm from the gallows,” Dutch answers. “We need to make sure they don’t succeed.”

“We better get goin’ then,” Arthur comments. “If we wanna get there in time to stop them.”

Dutch nods in agreement. “John, you take care of him,” he gestures to the dead man in the chair then looks up to Sadie and Arthur. “We need to see Hosea about a change of clothing.”

Arthur recognizes the look in Dutch’s eye; he already has a plan cooked up in his head. Once they find Hosea and tell him everything as quickly as possible, the older man is immediately on board.

“I have a couple of Saint Denis police uniforms that should fit you fellas. They’ll get you close without raising suspicion,” he explains as he pulls the outfits from a trunk in the back of one of the wagons. “As for you, Mrs. Adler,” he roots around more, finding a fancy yellow dress with a frilly lace front, “I think a high society lady traversing the streets of the city will go unnoticed by anyone looking for outlaws.”

She takes the frock into her freshly cleaned hands, then the large feathered hat he produces as well. “Ain’t exactly worn nothin’ like this. And I sure as hell ain’t a high society lady.”

“Well, you are today, my dear,” Dutch comments.

After they change into their costumes, they all mount up and leave. During the ride, they strategize what they’re going to do. If they’ve made it in time and Colm’s not long gone yet, they’ll patrol the crowd to see if any of Colm’s men are around fixing to make a daring rescue of their leader. If they are in the crowd, they’ll make damn sure to keep them occupied so that Colm gets seen through on his execution.

As they finally approach Guiteau Square, the high noon sun beats down on them. That doesn’t deter the rapidly gathering crowd from congregating in front of the gallows hoping to get a good view of the show about to come. They all look on expectantly as the hangman trudges up the steps to check the noose already hanging on the crossbar on preparation.

“Good,” Dutch says quietly to his companions. “We didn’t miss it.” When he looks over all the people standing in the square, he thinks he recognizes a few of them. He leans in closer to Arthur to whisper, “Those two idiots look familiar?” He gestures to two men talking with another man in the crowd.

“Yeah,” Arthur answers. “They definitely run with Colm.”

“Guess it’s a good idea we decided to show up, then,” Dutch comments with a smirk.

As they watch the O’Driscolls, they notice them periodically turn and look across the street.

“What are they looking at?” Dutch asks almost to himself as he turns to see.

“One of ‘em’s comin’ this way,” Arthur warns and the three Van Der Lindes look away as to not raise suspicion. They discreetly watch the man cross the street and head away from them in the direction they had been looking.

“Better see where he’s going,” Dutch says to Arthur. “Me and Mrs. Adler will keep our eyes on those two.” He gestures to the two O’Driscolls still standing in the crowd.

Arthur nods and starts to follow the man away from the square. Keeping a safe distance, he meanders the alleyways behind the man until he sees him ascend a latter onto a fire escape. He continues on, hopping up onto a nearby rooftop and crossing over to another building, the building that happens to be directly across the street from where Colm will be hanged.

Luckily for Arthur, the O’Driscoll isn’t the most observant, so instead of checking his surroundings first, he goes straight to the sniper rifle that must have been stashed there earlier. He takes up his position to get a good look at Guiteau Square. And most likely the noose he’s set to shoot down to save Colm from hanging.

As quietly as he can, Arthur pulls his knife from its sheath and sneaks up behind the distracted O’Driscoll. It takes just a moment for Arthur to bury his knife in the back of the man’s neck, severing his spinal cord and killing him almost instantly.

Movement on the raised platform of the gallows below catches Arthur’s eye after he unceremoniously drops the dead man’s body to the ground. He picks up the O’Driscoll’s discarded sniper rifle and raises the scope to his eye to get a better look. Colm had been brought out while Arthur was killing the sniper and the noose now rests around his neck. The bright sunlight of this cloudless day makes it easy for Arthur to see the smug smile on Colm’s face through the scope. It’s the smile of a man expecting to walk away from this unscathed, confident that the plan he has in place will go off without a hitch. Arthur sees that expression fall slightly as the man casts his eyes down to the crowd. Arthur follows his gaze to see that Sadie and Dutch are now holding onto the two O’Driscolls in the crowd, guns to their heads to keep them from doing anything stupid. Once Colm raises is gaze to see Arthur in the sniper’s nest, pure fear washes over his face as the realization hits that his plan has been thwarted. This will be his last day on earth and there’s nothing he can do about it now.

Arthur sends an obnoxious wave over to him to hit the point home. “You’re gon’ hang, Colm,” he says under his breath. “Once and for all.”

The hangman wastes no time in shouting out Colm’s charges, but Arthur can barely hear them over the distance. He’s focused on looking through the scope right at Colm’s face, anyway, not wanting to miss a single second of the man’s fear as his execution approaches. Just a moment later, the hangman pulls the lever and Colm finally falls through the drop door to his long overdo death.

Arthur’s seen men die before, many times. He’s even witnessed hangings and it’s never much affected him. This one does, though, not for what it is but what it will mean from now on. The air leaves Arthur’s lungs as if a weight has been lifted from him. Dutch’s rivalry with Colm that’s lasted for almost as many years as Arthur’s been in the gang is now over. He only gets a second to really feel the weight of that before a shot rings out (as well as a scream that sounds suspiciously like Sadie’s angry voice) and then everyone in the square is scattering.

“Arthur! O’Driscolls!” Dutch’s loud voice reaches Arthur’s ears and he jumps into action.

There aren’t many O’Driscolls left, but there are enough rushing into the square to keep Dutch and Sadie pinned down in their positions ducked down behind the low wall surrounding the square. Arthur quickly pinpoints the men battling to avenge their fallen leader and dispatches them with utmost efficiency. Soon enough, the din of the gunshots is punctuated by a cacophony of police whistles as the local law enforcement descends on the scene, adding to the anarchy. Fortunately, Dutch’s cop costume keeps the heat from the actual cops away from him and Sadie as they try to take out the last of the O’Driscolls.

Their anonymity doesn’t last forever, though. One observant officer ends up rushing to take cover right beside Dutch. As soon as he gets a good look at Dutch’s face, his eyes widen in recognition. Dutch sees the look of familiarity sweep through the man’s eyes and knows the tide will surely turn if this young man is allowed to call attention to the outlaw in his midst. Without an extra second’s thought, Dutch silences the cop with a well placed bullet through the top of his head before he can alert anyone.

“We need to get outta here!” Dutch shouts to Sadie.

Arthur can see the moment things start to change. With the law finally outnumbering the O’Driscolls, they start to look around for the cause of the battle. More and more of their eyes are focusing on Dutch and Sadie, which is decidedly a bad thing. It’s one thing to fight O’Driscolls in the streets, but having the entire police force of Saint Denis coming for you is quite another.

The two Van Der Lindes on the ground have no choice but to rush away from the police and toward one of the alleys that the leftover O’Driscolls are holed up in. It would certainly be a death trap on any other occasion, but Dutch knows that Arthur has line of sight on this particular alley. As if on cue, every O’Driscoll that peeks his head out to get a shot on Dutch and Sadie ends up with a fresh bullet hole between the eyes, courtesy of the sniper rifle they so generously provided in the fight in the first place.

Dutch gives a little wave, signaling to Arthur that all the O’Driscolls in the immediate area are gone. When Dutch and Sadie start to strip off their costumes in favor of putting on their normal outfits, Arthur follows suit, pulling his extra clothes from his satchel. Abandoning the uniform and the rifle on the roof, Arthur makes his way down to street level and across the few blocks to where their horses are hitched.

“Come on, Arthur. Hurry up,” Dutch spurs the younger man to move faster down the street as he hops up into his saddle. “We need to get outta here before the police really catch onto us.”

As Arthur mounts Sparrow and turns to follow Dutch, he looks to his right to Sadie. “You alright?”

She tears her eyes away from the road ahead to look his way. “We got ‘em, Arthur,” she chokes out, though no tears come to her eyes; they never do anymore. “Who we didn’t kill, the law finished off. There ain’t no more O’Driscolls thanks to us, so I feel...” She thinks a moment. Happy’s not the word; the grief of losing her husband is still too great to allow for that. “I feel... relieved,” she settles on. “Those monsters won’t ever hurt anyone else. And I’m more than okay with that.”

Meanwhile back at camp, from the moment the trio leaves Shady Belle, everyone else in the gang has been a little on edge. Not only are they wondering if the small group would be successful in making sure Colm finally gets his due, but they have the mess around the property to deal with, too. It’s all hands on deck to try to dispose of the dead O’Driscolls lying around. Fortunately, the swamp around them (and the alligators in it) provides the perfect place to do just that, but all those bodies still need to make their way there.

The thought of having to touch dead corpses horrifies Emmeline, but she doesn’t want to let anyone down. She is a part of this group, so she’s determined to pitch in as much as she can.

“You can do this,” she whispers to herself before she pushes through the front door of the main house and walks out onto the porch. A wave of nausea passes over her as she steps closer to one of the bodies off by the gazebo, knowing what she has to do. “He was a bad man,” she mutters to reassure herself as she rolls the sleeves of her blouse to her elbows. Tossing a glance back to the wagon being laden with dead bodies, she bends down and wraps her fingers around the dead O’Driscoll’s ankles, fixing to drag him in that direction. After only a few feet, she’s interrupted by Hosea’s voice.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa there,” he calls out as he rushes toward her. “You should be inside, Emmeline.”

She gently drops the O’Driscoll’s feet, as if she could still hurt him if she was too rough. “It’s okay. I want to help out.”

He doesn’t take that for an answer. Instead, he wraps his arm around her shoulders and turns her back toward the house. “I’m sure Jack would be pleased with your company upstairs. Besides, it’s too hot out here. You shouldn’t overexert yourself in your condition.”

“C-Condition?” she asks, playing dumb in case he doesn’t actually know her secret and means something else.

He chuckles, leading her back up the porch steps and through the door. “Yes. Your condition .” He stops them in the sitting room, knowing that everyone else is too busy to hear their conversation. “I admit that I should have seen it sooner. Age really is creeping up on me. Dulling the senses.” He holds his hand out, gesturing for her to sit onto the couch. He follows after, planting himself down with a groan and creaking joints.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve lived my whole life as a conman, dear girl. I’ve learned to read people, pick up on little cues, little traits that tell me everything I need to know about them. I wasn’t too sure about your... situation at first. Not until I saw the way John’s been looking at you like he’s terrified. The same way he looked at Abigail when she was with child, though not quite as bad. I reckon ‘cause he knows he’s not the father in this case.” He shakes his head. “That boy still ain’t comfortable with children, despite having one of his own.”

“Abigail figured it out pretty quick,” Emmeline explains. “And she told John the second she was sure. He hasn’t really said much to me about it since then.”

Hosea nods. “Abigail’s smarter than people give her credit for. And John,” he laughs, “finesse ain’t exactly his strong suit. We’ve had to fight our way out of more situations than I care to think about because he blew our cover.”

“Really?” she says with a giggle. “I guess Arthur and I will have to start telling people soon, anyway. People are bound to notice when I start showing through my dress.”

“You and Arthur have time yet, I’m betting.” He pats her on the knee gently. “I’m so happy for Arthur to become a father. I know he always wanted to have children.”

“He did?” she asks, confused. Arthur hadn’t really told her that in so many words.

He nods. “He may not admit it, maybe not even to himself, but I know deep down he’s wanted a family. All you have to do is look at how he treats Jack. He’s been more of a father to that boy than Marston‘s been, really. Did everything for him in the beginning. If Abigail hadn’t’ve loved John so much, I reckon Arthur woulda married her just to give the boy a proper family when John left.”

“Arthur wants to leave,” she admits quietly. “Leave the gang with me and the Marstons. So we can raise the children away from this.”

He lets out a heavy breath. “He’s smart to want that. We all know this isn’t gonna end well, deep down. We just try to prolong it, day by day, however we can.” He grasps her hand in his and gives her a poignant look. “You tell him it’s alright to leave all this, Emmeline. Even if he’s said he wants to leave, he’ll wrestle with getting away from this life, leaving us. You tell him he can go. He doesn’t owe us nothing more.”

The vehemence with which he says it has Emmeline nodding automatically. She had a feeling that Arthur would have a hard time with following through on leaving. Especially given how much he sees the gang as his family.

It takes a while, but the property finally gets completely cleaned up. It isn’t much longer after that when Dutch, Arthur, and Sadie get back to the camp. Once everyone sees the three riders galloping down the trail toward the house, they hold their breath in anticipation. The second Dutch hitches The Count and looks up with a bright smiling face and outstretched arms, everyone breaks out in cheers knowing that the trio was successful in their mission. The Van Der Linde’s oldest rival has been taken down. And now it’s time to celebrate.

Liquor flows. Songs are sung. Stories are told. The mood around camp is light and jovial as everyone enjoys the party, some around the fire, some at Pearson’s tent, and some dancing in the middle to the music from Dutch’s phonograph.

From her seat on the log by the fire, Emmeline watches Karen and Sean swaying to and fro together arrhythmically to the music, both of them already three sheets to the wind. It doesn’t stop them from looking like they’re anything but happy together, though.

“You doin’ alright?” Arthur’s voice draws her attention away from the couple.

She turns back to him beside her and gives him a smile. “Yeah. I’m fine, Arthur.”

“What you went through today...” he lets out a heavy breath, thinking about how she was held at gunpoint earlier, “I don’t want you to ever go through that again. Don’t ever want you in danger.”

“I don’t want either of us in danger.” Remembering the conversation she had earlier with Hosea, she scoots closer to Arthur to speak with him more quietly. “I know it’s gonna be hard,” she whispers and takes her hand in his, “but I think we should-“ She’s interrupted by Dutch coming up from behind and clapping Arthur on the shoulder.

“What’s with the long face, Arthur?” he asks with a huge smile as he walks around to stand before them. “We’re celebrating, in case you haven’t noticed.”

Arthur looks up to him. “I know, Dutch. I’ve been waitin’ to see Colm hang for a long time.” He shakes his head a little and scratches at the back of his neck not wanting to tell Dutch about the way his insides twist thinking about how Emmeline and their baby had been in danger today. “Guess I’m just tired. Long day.”

“That it’s been.” Dutch plants himself down next to Emmeline, unaware he’s interrupted the conversation she wanted to have with Arthur. “Things are gonna change for us,” he says wistfully as he looks to the darkening evening sky. “I can feel it. Our luck is gonna change.”

“I sure hope so,” Arthur quips.

“Come on, Arthur,” Dutch replies, though his happy tone doesn’t fall much. He bumps Emmeline with his shoulder. “If you keep spending time with him, you’ll end up just as morose as he is.”

She laughs at his joke. “He’s not morose most of the time. He actually makes me laugh.”

Dutch looks overly shocked. “Arthur? Funny? Pfft!”

It makes Emmeline laugh more. It’s nice to see this side of Dutch. Since she’s met him, she actually hasn’t spent much time with him. And with Micah, the Pinkertons, and the move, Dutch hadn’t exactly been up to socializing lately. But now, it seems like he’s back to the man that Arthur had described to her. She thinks it would be nice to actually get to know the man that’s her only living kin.

Having heard the exchange as he grabbed a beer from the box by Pearson’s wagon, Hosea walks up to take a seat across from the small group. “Arthur’s a regular comedian, don’t you know?” he jokes.

“Yeah, yeah. Alright,” Arthur grumbles. “Don’t need you comin’ in here and teasin’ me, too.”

Hosea chuckles a bit. “No need to be so serious, Arthur. This is a party, after all.”

“That’s what I was saying.” Dutch rises from his seat and turns back to hold his hand out to Emmeline. “Since your fella is too busy brooding, would you care to dance with me?”

“I ain’t brooding ,” Arthur responds, a smile finally tugging his lips upward once he sees Emmeline trying to hold back a giggle. “Go on then.” He shoos her off with a gesture of his hand.

Emmeline takes Dutch’s hand and allows him to lead her to the open area that had occupied Karen and Sean just a moment ago, the couple having vacated, most likely to their tent. Dutch keeps ahold of her left hand in his right as he turns to face her.

“You know how to dance?” He places his left hand gently around her back while he raises his other arm with hers into position.

“Not really,” she admits, placing her free hand on his shoulder. “My father tried to teach me when I was little, but I think I ended up just jumping around.” She laughs at the memories.

As he starts to sway with her, he asks her quietly, “He was good to you?”

She realizes then what she had said. She had called Joseph, the man that raised her, her father. But the man standing before her technically holds that title. It doesn’t make the former feel any less like a parent to her, though. Despite the fact that he was never blood, he will always be her papa.

“He was a very good... father. I loved him.”

Dutch nods his head, then puts a smile on his face. “I’m glad. I could tell he was a good man.” He steps back and lifts her arm up, prompting her to twirl.

When she comes back to him, she lets out a little laugh. “I don’t think I got the hang of spinning when I was eight years old,” she says, trying to bring the conversation to lighter fare.

Dutch isn’t ready to end the conversation that he’s thought about having for years, though. “I did think of you often,” he asserts, his eyes soft as he looks to the young woman in front of him. “I always wanted the best for you. I tried to help out after Joseph died, left money for you and your mother.”

She looks away a moment as they continue to sway to the music. “I know. Arthur told me.”

“So many times I thought about knocking on your door. Introducing myself to you. Making up for lost time.”

“But you didn’t.”

He shakes his head. “No. It wasn’t because I didn’t care about you; I want to make that clear. I always cared about you, Emmeline. And that’s precisely why I never knocked on your door. Your mother was right. It would’ve been dangerous for you.”

“I understand, Dutch,” she reassures him. “I didn’t at first. I wasn’t too happy knowing I was lied to, but... I do understand why you and my parents did what you did. But I’m happy to get to know you now.” She gives him a smile, which he returns easily.

In the meantime, since Arthur is left by himself, he looks over to Hosea. “Sorry about havin’ to leave those costumes of yours back in Saint Denis.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad they did their job and you all made it back safe.”

Arthur nods. “Yeah. Ain’t no more O’Driscolls left after all that.”

“One less thing on our plates.”

“That’s what we need. Things to be more simple. Like they they were before the Pinkertons.” Arthur takes a cigarette out of his satchel and lights it, taking a drag and exhaling the smoke.

“Maybe we should just be tying up loose ends.”

Arthur looks over to the older man in confusion. “Whatchu mean?”

“We’re the last of a dying breed, my boy. And it’s only gonna end one of two ways, accept it and finally become a member of civilization or fight it and go out on the cooling board.” Hosea stands with a groan, his stiff joints protesting momentarily, and walks over to Arthur, placing his hand on his shoulder and leaning down to speak more quietly. “Don’t you make that girl a widow. And don’t you make that child fatherless.”

Arthur looks up to the older man, ready to ask how he knew. But he thinks better of it. Of course Hosea knew; he always does.

As Arthur follows Hosea’s exit, his eyes wander over to Molly as she stands on the front porch. She’s leaning on the railing with her arms crossed over her chest and staring daggers at Dutch and Emmeline as they continue to dance and laugh with one another.

“Shit,” Arthur mutters to himself. He knows exactly what’s going through the fiery redhead’s mind.

Molly has made her jealous streak well known. Just about every woman that Dutch has so much as talked to has gotten the third degree from her. And it’s all only gotten worse as Dutch closed himself off more. It seems that Molly has been coping with that by drinking more which has only made her more volatile.

Before Arthur can do anything about it, Molly stomps over to Emmeline and roughly pulls her back by the arm.

“Arthur ain’t enough for ya, huh, ya trollop,” Molly slurs out, her Irish accent sounding a little bit stronger than normal. She shoves her finger right into Emmeline’s face and yells, “Ya gotta go after Dutch Van Der Linde himself, too!”

Molly’s loud voice draws attention and everyone looks her way, interested at the turn of events. That intrigue only deepens once Arthur jumps up from his seat and rushes over.

“What the hell are you doin’, Molly?” he calls out and quickly puts himself between the woman and Emmeline to prevent a skirmish.

“Yes,” Dutch concurs as he puts his hands on his hips, “what are you doing?”

“Oh, don’t you act innocent, Dutch,” Molly seethes, refocusing her rage on him. “She bats her pretty eyes at you and you eat it up.”

“I wasn’t-“ Emmeline starts, but Molly isn’t hearing it.

“You shut up, you hussy! It’s obvious you’re throwing yourself at him!”

Emmeline has never been talked to like this in her whole life and it has her flustered. Flustered enough that she blurts out, “I don’t want Dutch! He’s my father !” loud enough that everyone hears.

Audible gasps ring out around the camp at the shock. No one had even an inkling that their newest member was related to Dutch and now it comes out that she’s his daughter .

Molly takes a step back and looks to Dutch as she tries to make sense of all of this. “Is that true?”

Dutch lets out a sigh and puts his hand on the shoulder of his formerly secret daughter. “Yes. Emmeline is my daughter,” he says loud enough for all the straining ears around them to hear. “I suppose it’s time to tell you all everything.” He takes his hand off of her and steps forward to address everyone. “Let me explain. I did send Arthur to check on Emmeline, but it wasn’t just because I knew her mother. I knew all along she was my daughter and wanted to make sure she was alright. She and Arthur did get sweet on each other, but the reason he brought her here was because the Pinkertons knew about her. And they wanted to use her to get to me. Why I decided to keep all this quiet was to protect her. But since we now know that Micah ,” he hisses the man’s name, “was the one working with the police and he’s no longer here, there’s no reason to keep it a secret anymore.”

Everyone processes the information at their own rate. Some people are stood there shocked while others nod softly their assent. John is firmly in the former category, his gaze flicking quickly between Dutch, Emmeline, and Arthur.

“Emmeline’s your daughter?” he asks aloud, though he’s not exactly looking for a response from the man. “And she and Arthur-“

He’s cut off by a swift elbow to the ribs courtesy of Abigail next to him. “Emmeline and Arthur are together and it don’t rightly matter that Dutch is her father,” she finishes the sentence for him to stop him from saying anything he shouldn’t. “I think it’s good fortune. She’s part of the family no matter what.”

Emmeline smiles to the other raven haired woman. “Thank you, Abigail. That means a lot.”

“Indeed,” Dutch’s booming voice brings attention back to him. “We are all a family here. Now, I know we’ve had some tough times, but they are behind us. Tonight, we celebrate our long overdue victory over the O’Driscolls and tomorrow...” he pauses to make sure all eyes are on him, “we make our plans to free ourselves from the bond of the slavery that this ‘ society ’ is forcing on us. Stick with me and I promise that you will be able to live free.”

His words sound good, especially to the mostly inebriated ears that hear them. But they make a weight settle in Arthur’s chest. Dutch seems to be back to his old self... but is that really a good thing?

[thatweirdmod]

Windowless Moviemaker Chapter 6: Race

Windowless Moviemaker

Chapter 6: Race

Kidney turns and leaves me sitting against the wall-- speechless.

My eyes slowly move over to Mitchol, whose slouching form is now cast in darkness by Kidney's shadow. I think, hollowly, that the blood drying on his face probably itches a little. Mitchol manages a small squirm in his ropes.

"Well?" Kidney demands irritably.

Mitchol's swelling, battered face jerks up to attention at Kidney. "W-what?" He dares to ask.

"You're up. Give me a plan."

"Oh," Mitchol says. "Er, I just expected-"

"Is there something you don't understand about your situation?" Kidney interrupts. "You don't get to expect anything. Now, the plan."

"Uh, well, I guess we need to get to their computers somehow. They probably ripped DVDs too. Redhand's a little old fashioned. We might also have to look out for tapes..."

Kidney crosses his arms, scowling. "If I kill these guys, then wipe their houses, am I gonna have to worry that I missed a spot because you couldn't point me in the right direction?"

Mitchol attempts to splay his hands. "Look, I know where my stuff is, but how am I supposed to know exactly where their stuff is?"

Kidney chews at the inside of his cheek angrily and walks over to the table to grab a notebook and pen. "Let's just start with addresses," he says, poising to write. "Redhand."

"He lives up in Tindle in those stained up white apartments. Er, I think the number's 46."

"Costriel." Kidney demands, looking up from his scribbling.

"He lives in an apartment too, and he's actually rooming with Nethandre." Mitchol says. "316, in the Fortitude Apartments."

Kidney nods his head.

"So, er," Mitchol begins. "What are you planning to do now that you know where these guys are?"

"You remember how I said you don't get to expect anything?" Kidney says patronizingly. "The same applies to asking. I, the one who is allowed to expect and ask, do not expect you to open your mouth unless I ask you something."

Mitchol swallows and shifts in his blood-stained bindings.

Then Kidney turns to one of the concrete walls, as if it called his name. He stands, staring at it silently, before asking another question.

"Did you... Did you give those videos to my uncle too?"

Mitchol's mouth quivers. "H-he, uh... he was the one who suggested that, you know, we needed some extra insurance on you in the first place. So yeah."

Kidney stands still, unanswering and unmoving, but I can see his jaw working slightly.

"But please!" Mitchol sputters. "Dude, I-I.. I totally forgot about that earlier-- when you asked who had the videos." His arms press up against the ropes, trying to shield his body. Kidney walks in front of him. "I wasn't holdin' out on purpose or anyth-" Mitchol is cut off by Kidney smacking him over the head with a closed palm.

"Just out of curiosity, Mitchol," Kidney says. "If I hadn't asked about Uncle Stoulfer just now, would you ever have "remembered" to tell me?"

"We-w-w-well I don't know." Mitchol trembles with his hands splayed open and his eyes wide. "Guess it's a good thing you jogged my memory man, ha..."

Kidney turns and paces slowly, shaking his head. "I never liked the way that old, crusty loaf looked at Krin, even at me. But for my own selfish reasons, I ignored it all this time." He scoffs lightly. "Just one more reason to be glad I'm out." He turns back and looks Mitchol dead in the face. "The blinders are off."

"So you're aaalll alone," I say from the corner.

Kidney's eyes shoot to me, surprised.

"What? You thought I'd be totally traumatized just from that?"

His gaze narrows hatefully.

"So some weird shit happened and you saw my dream. It prompted you to get the jump on us, but that was mostly luck. And that's probably as far as your luck will go in regards to picking useful kernels of information outta piles of brain vomit." I snort. "Even my thing was more useful, because I saw you in real time."

Kidney smiles. "Where did I see your dream?"

"Huh?"

"It was inside your mind. It had to have been, 'cause that's where they're all cooked up." Kidney says, tapping the side of his head. "The moon is almost full again. That has to count for something." He breathes in. "I can go further with this. But I'll make sure you stay at your current level. You'll be underground here where you can't touch the moonlight."

"You don't even know what the hell 'this' is." I say.

"Pretty smug talk for a guy who's about to lose everything," Kidney says, with his mouth turned upwards in a smirk that doesn't reach his stony eyes.

"What better time to be smug than when you're about to lose everything?"

His face contorts with all the nasty feelings that must be roiling around inside of him. "I told you I'd take everything from you, and this bullshit positive nihilism of yours will be one of the things. I'll make you understand how bad playing as the loser really is, even if the game has the same black ending for everyone."

He takes Mitchol's phone out of his pocket, then says, "Mitchol, you told me you could set Redhand up."

Mitchol breathes in. "Redhand's looking for a new place to do his snuff movies, so I'm thinking maybe I can tell him I found a good place, and you can catch him there?"

"Hmm," Kidney says, folding his arms. "Why does he happen to need a new location now?"

Mitchol explains, "He's been under some suspicion lately. His neighbors've been complaining about a smell, like rotten something, coming from his apartment."

I don't need to wonder what that smell could be. I watched a video where Redhand Heriolt cut a girl open with a sharpened can top. It'd probably taken a fair amount of practice to learn how to do, but he'd managed to keep his subject awake and alive while he pulled out part of her intestines, smeared the pungent brown contents over both of them, and pleasured himself.

I had thought, while clicking through Redhand's contributions, that cleaning up set after filming that kinda stuff would be way too much of a pain. Looks like Redhand thought so too. That filth and gore in the background really had been as caked-on as it looked.

Mitchol continues, "He even got, you know, reported to the cops 'cause someone heard screams. Redhand laughed it off, sayin' it was slasher flicks playing on the TV. They left after he promised to turn the volume down, and they never got a search warrant or nothin'. Still, better not push it, right?"

I nearly snort. Well no shit someone heard screams if he was doing that stuff in an apartment.

Kidney asks, "Where do you plan on telling him to go?"

Mitchol swallows weirdly, with something about him quivering. "That ghost town 40 minutes southeast of Grishee, the neighborhood has a bunch of abandoned old houses. I know a little white one has a basement too. I think I could convince him it's ideal."

A frown of skepticism sends Kidney's lips pointing downwards, but then he walks closer to Mitchol and loosens some of the bindings so he can move one of his hands. Just as soon, however, Kidney slips a pocket knife out of his back pocket and pops the blade out against Mitchol's neck.

Mitchol gasps sharply, but Kidney just places the previously confiscated cell phone into his newly freed hand. "Text him," Kidney says into Mitchol's ear, adjusting the angle of the knife. "Make it sound natural, and make sure he goes to that little white one."

Mitchol's throat bobs, as much of a nod as there was going to be. He goes to work on the keys:

"sup dood. te ghosted out hood in Caplum has som gud spots. white house wit te green dor has a cool basement."

And "SEND".

Kidney's mouth quirks to the side. "I know I said to make it natural, but are you sure he'll get that?"

Mitchol chokes, "Yeah, I mean, I text him like that often enough."

"I see," Kidney says. Then, the phone buzzes.

"R U THERE NOW?"

"Eh, what should I say?" Mitchol asks.

"If this is a test, you might not be able to answer follow-up questions confirming that you're there. You're at home, got it?"

"nah im chillin in my plce. u out?"

"NO. HOME RUBING1 IN BEEFSLAB+blood I BAWT.CANT HUNT BUT NEed it bad."

"lol. tis Caplum spot wil fix u up. no 1 evr gos der. wnna chekit out togetrr?? jst gimme a time bro."

"nightS YUNG.TERES TIME TO CATCHA WOMAN I LEAVE RN. BETHERE 1HR???"

"frige lvl cool dood XD"

"I didn't say you were supposed to go too," Kidney purrs lowly over Mitchols shoulder. "But, I suppose you can just be 'late.'"

He takes the phone out of Mitchol's hand and re-tightens the ropes. "I can handle Redhand Heriolt from here."

With that, he turns on his heels, clops up the concrete stairs, and leaves me and Mitchol to rot in the bunker.

I look at Mitchol. "Please tell me you just tricked him somehow," I say.

"Shh," Mitchol replies quietly.

A couple of little sparks flare up in my chest and head. If I had the energy, I'd click my tongue. Don't you shush me, bitch. I whispered anyway.

Black silence begins settling down between us, and I close my eyes. The concrete is hard against my body, and I can feel us becoming one via temperature as my warmth seeps away into its cold. I move my lips, and a barely audible, hoarse series of whispers spills from them.

"Mother Earth, Mother Earth, once again to us give birth."

Suddenly, a violent roiling upheaves my stomach, like Poseidon's stormy fist punching the sea in wrath and sending the waters booming and swashing. I projectile vomit all over myself and the floor. The deja vu from my dream hits me first, and then the disgust and embarrassment of real life.

Mitchol jumps, as much as he can tied up anyway. His face is tense with that look of distubia, shock, fear, and concern that I hate directed

at me. "Wha.. are you okay man?"

A suck in a stinging, bile stained breath and respond to him in stench coated words. "No. Fuck... we just... we need to get the fuck out of here."

I lick my lips, and regret pools inside my mouth as my tongue pulls foul bits and cooling, sour fluid back into it.

There's a book of religion that says god will not be mocked and is not to be tested. I suppose I couldn't rightly be of the wombs and births of two different mothers at my own convenience. I never considered myself a man of faith, but this stuff I've been touching-- it seems to be some part of a sprawling realm beyond scientific knowledge.

I look down at myself. The sight of me must be making Mitchol sick, but since I'm already like this... I allow the muscles in my bowels to unfurl like a relaxing kitty, and warm liquid soon soaks my jeans and forms a pool around me.

Yep, this is one thing they don't tell you, at least not often, about being kidnapped. I was living freely up until however many hours ago I was taken, and that meant that I drank coffee and expected to be able to reach a toilet when it made its way through me.

I sigh, and lean over to inhale the merging smells that had all been inside my body. Amazing, how humans are all so disgusting inside, but we act as if we're clean until it comes out. I don't bother to look up at my roommate as I contemplate going number two.

But then I catch my reflection in the puddle of urine, and decide that I have to cancel my reservations with Mr. Brown, because the Train of Thought just arrived, and it only stops at the station for 3 seconds.

The first thing I thought, or perhaps, was told, about Mother Moon was that she was a relayer of the sun's message. And gods... gods... I was just thinking about them. But what do I do about them-- what do humans do about gods? They... sacrifice and serve. Blood, lives... offerings.

"Angel of The Great Star, to you, I unbar. Birth me into the spacial assemblage. Through me, relay the message," I say.

Mitchol again looks at me like I'm insane. Indeed, I've done it incorrectly. If her light cannot touch me, it is pointless. I take in a deep breath, and begin fighting against the ropes around my body harder than I ever fought before. Just a bit, perhaps they're loosening.

If I can just get out of these, I might be able to find a way to force the bunker door open and get outside. And if Mother Moon accepts me, I will be raised above Earth and the Earthlings. I will be 3rd, and they will all be 4th.

In the clearing outside the bunker, Kidney faces the moon and spreads out his arms, letting the glow bathe his body. This pale light can be so many things: ethereal, comforting, serene, eerie... He'd never questioned whose mood it really depended on until recently.

"Mother Moon, Mother Moon..." Kidney trails off, his eyes closed in concentration. But concentration isn't quite right. The chant... the feeling isn't coming over him.

"Mother Moon." He says, more of a plain address than a mystical prayer. "I can see you here tonight, as always. Does it not please you to commune with me right now?"

Gazing up at the white ball suspended in the infinite black cosmos, he ever so slightly feels her grow closer for a moment. However, she remains silent and far.

"On your own terms, Mother Moon." Kidney submits, inclining his head in reverence. Despite everything that has happened, he still feels a little crazy as he walks back to his rental car. He might fit the definition of "lunatic" now.

Kidney drives down the rural road to Caplum. Thousands of spindly, bent trees slash endless shadows through the yellow glow from his headlights. If he were taking the Passage to Hell of the South and met Satan at the end, it might not surprise him. Fitting though, that such a road would be irritatingly monotonous. Bored despite his mission, he flips the radio on.

Unintelligible words and tunes grate through static on most of the channels. Then there's the twang of guitar and a longing voice that reminds Kidney of grass fields swaying under a golden sunset in the middle of a heaven set in nowhere. He never did like country music, so he twists the knob one more click.

A bold, smooth, male voice butters the speakers. "The quiet neighborhood of Green Shade has been shaken by the story of a local housewife. According to her, she was drugged and kidnapped from her home by two masked men, who broke in late at night."

Kidney's heart lurches inside of his torso, along with the food in his stomach. He gags, swerving into the wrong lane for a second. After everything they-- Jeeto-- had told her, Mrs. Horatay was still talking?

The deep voice coming through the speakers crinkles with static. "...underground bunker. They then proceeded to film themselves sexually and physically assaulting her. The woman reports that at various points during the hours-long ordeal, both of her assailants lifted the masks away from their mouths and exposed the bottom portions of their faces."

Kidney's head swims with nausea. He never saw so much as a coin for getting that damnable spasm closeup. The footage of the actual stimulation was cut, he was sure. He'd been the one to edit Mrs. Horatay's movie. But somehow it had escaped his mind that Mrs. Horatay could be looking down, drawing a sketch in her mind for the cops.

"Both attackers appeared to be young males, in their late teens or early twenties. She describes them to be of average height, the shorter of the two having a round face and lightly tanned complexion, while the taller male's face was square shaped. She noted no hair or distinguishing blemishes on either of their faces, however..."

Kidney's hands tremble on the steering wheel, but he forces himself to focus on driving. "Relax. There's gotta be a hundred guys that fit those descriptions around here," he mutters to himself.

After a small eternity, Kidney spots a sign that humanity had come here ahead of him. "SPEED LIMIT 45" in faded black over rusted white. He slows down, guides his rental car into the overgrown brush on the side of the road, then takes the key out of the ignition.

With the engine dead, it's so quiet out here. Kidney pulls on his new black burglar's mask before getting out, just in case. He gently pushes the door closed behind himself, then goes around to the trunk.

A bag of supplies he packed from Jeeto's house is inside, and he unzips it and pockets from it a syringe of animal tranquilizer and a switchblade. The weapon he chooses to keep equipped in hand, however, is the 16-inch machete he brought himself.

Kidney begins his stalk up the road. Even in this dark place with the shadows of the bushes staring at his exposed back, he can feel Mother Moon's light clothing him and guiding his footsteps. Krin's innocently smiling face in the sunset of his room... such a distant memory kept so close to his heart. He clenches the hilt of his machete. He will not be afraid.

Mother Moon's warmth and comfort begins to seep all through him, and he senses her closer than before. The neighborhood comes into view. So he stays low and hidden as he makes his way to the west-most side where that white house is supposed to be. He sees the car before the house. It's a van that only breaks creep convention for its having a green paintjob instead of a white one.

Suddenly, a something like a living memory possesses his mind, only, something is not right. He finds himself looking at himself from behind, his black, hooded form crouching down behind bushes. One of his meaty arms is outstretched, and the hand is holding something, shiny, cold, and heavy. It's a gun-- pointing.

The head that he has an intimate awareness of, but not a oneness with, turns furthur downward without command. He sees white hairs in the bottom of his vision, and the stomach below protrudes too far forward. It is covered with a green Hawaiian shirt.

Kidney gasps, and seems to be sucked back into his own mind again. "Stoulfer," he breathes. Instinctively, Kidney whirls around on his ankles and spins up from the ground. The blast of the bullet rings the air, and Kidney feels it whip past his head and break through the dry shubbery behind him.

The moonlight makes depthless pits of the bags under Uncle Stoulfer's eyes, and carves darkness into every wrinkle and pockmark on his skin. The hairs of his white mustache and goatee twitch.

The old man's deep, raspy laugh mocks him. "I always knew you'd end up givin' me trouble."

Kidney runs for one of the houses. He can hear the many voices of his uncle's mind echoing. The thoughts are so muddled, though, and examined all at once, they're like a wild drove. Irritation. Lust. Smugness.

But the foremost thoughts-- those are the thoughts of action. That is where Kidney puts his focus. The gun fires again, but Kidney knows where it has made its path, and dashes out of its aim just as the trigger is being pulled.

"Shit! Pretty quick on his toes," Kidney hears.

"Got lucky there," Uncle Stoulfer hollers.

Kidney crashes through the rotting, wooden front door of a house, and runs into a bedroom in the back. He stands to the side of the doorway and listens to the floorboards at the entrance creak. Inside, Stoulfer's thoughts sound like mumbling, for only weak, pale streaks of moonlight penetrate the dark building through broken windows and cracked roofing.

Kidney can sense with the stronger rays of light touch the old man's balding head, because those are the moments he can hear more clearly.

Uncle Stoulfer plans to check behind the kitchen counters first, then... Kidney clenches the machete handle and raises the weapon. When Stoulfer comes here, he will strike.

[gizoogletranslateshomestuck]

> J-to-tha-izzane: Answa again fo' real.

TT: Hmm so jus' chill. 

GG: Welp, lizzay me H-to-tha-izzave it! 

TT: Hiznave whizzat? 

GG: A hard tizzle fo` botch'n up tha pooch! GG: I tizzy I just locked tha dizzoor wit thiznat muttonheezeeed stunt. N nizzy that mirrorizzle obelisk be good as gone so show some love, niggaz! 

TT: I wasn't going ta say nothin'. TT: Hell, I wizzay asleep at tha W-H-to-tha-izzeel tiznoo while you were busy ho-slappin' up, and I have an IQ of, hold on, robo-calculat'n where the sun be shinin and I be rhymin'... TT: Robo-calculat'n... TT: Robo-calculat'n... TT: Robo-calculat'n... 

GG: Yippie yo, you can't see my flow. Oh brother. 

TT: Robo-calculat'n... Tru niggaz do niggaz. TT: 'bout 500 billion. 

GG: That be reallizzle, really robo-smart. 

TT: Don't git human-fresh wit me, Crocka. I'm 'bout ta straight trippin' all fizzy hundo-billy P-to-tha-izzoints of mah stringizzle cyborg IQ ta bear on yo' dizzumb problem. Check it out keep'n it real yo. TT, betta check yo self: I took nizzay of tha cizzay C-to-tha-izzode ta tha crack-a-lackin`, n recorded a digital flashsnap of its appearizzle through my photogrizzle silizzle memory cizzles. TT: Im crazy, you can't phase me. Which be ta say I looked at eight alphanumeric digits a cizzay minutes ago, n remembered tizzy spittin' that real shit. 

GG: Ok? 

TT: So give tha bunny tha wizzle. I'll hizzay hizzy run back ta tha hizouze n make yizzay a new obelisk wit tha sizzle grist you jizzust collected F-R-to-tha-izzom it. TT: He cizzle stash it 'n tha wallet n riznun it bizzle ta yizzou, n then you can open tha door. Yizzou shouldn't be ho-slappin' around tizzy long, cauze he real sprizzy. TT: Which be exizzle why yizzle should wait here. You'll just slow hizzay dizzle. 

GG: Alright, I think I cizzan do thizzat. GG: Whiznat should I do 'n tha meantizzle? 

TT: Let me thiznink 'bout that. TT: Gang bangin' so jus' chill... 

GG now motherfuckers lemme here ya say hoe: Oh stop it! 

TT: K. 

GG: Nizzy of our niggaz will answa me. Whizzle could they be up ta? It's your homie snoop dogg from the dpg. GG ta help you tap dat ass: You must at least know whizzay Dirk be mackin' with the S-N-double-O-P. 

TT: He straight trippin' up siznome drones. 

GG: Sizzome what? 

TT: Big rizned rizzles. He'll be busy fo` a wizzy. It's your homie snoop dogg from the dpg. TT: Roxy I'm nizzot siznure 'bout, bizzut thizzere be a P-R-E-Double-Tizzy high probability as governed by tha immizzle laws of mathematics thizzay shizzay be preoccupy similarly. Nigga get shut up or get wet up. 

GG: She blingin' robots tizzy, yizzou miznean sho nuff? 

TT: I don't know. Mizzy. TT: Deal'n wit them, 'n sizzy way, perhaps in tha mutha fuckin club. TT: If so, it wizzay be a coincidence. 

GG aww nah: Whizzay hittin that booty? 

TT: I thizzay tha Condesce be attempt'n ta F-to-tha-izzorce tha issue now.  

GG: What? I started yo shit and i'll end yo' shit. What issue cuz its a pimp thang! 

TT mah nizzle: It likelizzle that it's a coordinated assizzle. Send'n drones bizzle ta here and Roxy place. TT: She probably try'n ta git everyone elze ta stop dick'n around n join tha gizzay alrizzle. 

GG: Be yizzy sizzure she not J-to-tha-izzust try'n ta kizzill them? GG: Tru niggaz do niggaz. It wouldn't be ha F-to-tha-izzirst assassizzle attempt. 

TT spittin' that real shit: Yizzay, but cizzy on. Yippie yo, you can't see my flow. Dirk hizzle been a sitt'n duck here fo` years. Roxy tizzle. TT: She could have wiped them out any tizzle witta S-W-to-tha-izzarm much bigga than dis one cuz its a pimp thang. Or J-to-tha-izzust nuked thizzay. TT cuz this is how we do it: Poser "assassination attizzle" on you was pretty wizzle too. 

GG: But it nearly worked cuz I'm fresh out the pen! GG: I wizzould be diznead rizzight nizzay if not for the whims of GCat.  

TT: Right. Nigga get shut up or get wet up. TT: Like I trizzle the motives of that fuck'n th'n paper'd up. 

GG: So, yoe say'n she only pretend'n ta hunt us? 

TT: I believe sizzy probably would genuinely lizzle ta kill us. She be a psycho afta all. TT: But it's also obvious ta me she needs us ta begin play'n dis gizzy, fo` whateva fuckizzle up purpoze she hiznas. TT: She M-to-tha-izzight even nee' us ta win it tizzle, fo` all I K-N-to-tha-izzow. TT: Ha antagonism be all part of tha dance fo my bling bling. 

GG: T-H-to-tha-izzen you're say'n Dizzay n Roxizzle aren't reallizzle 'n danga friznom thizne robots? 

TT: Oh, I wouldn't say tizzy. Thizzle still pretty deadly n thizzle shizzle missiles n stuff. 

GG keep'n it real yo: Augh! I just want ta tizzle ta mah niggaz n see if T-H-to-tha-izzey're ok n we out! GG: What 'bout Jizzy? 

TT: No idizzle what mackin' on wit him R-to-tha-izzight now. Snoop dogg is in this bitch. TT: You'se a flea and I'm the big dogg. I'm sure whizzen tha time be right, tha witch will kizzay push'n hizzim along ta jizzy tha gizzle as W-to-tha-izzell.  

GG: Then I giznuess I'll just sizzy hizzy n worry 'bout everyone quietly until Sizzle gets biznack. 

TT: What 'bout yo' T-R-to-tha-izzoll nigga? 

GG: Relax, cus I'm bout to take my respect. What dogg? 

TT: Tha alien whoze name you diznon't know. TT: Yiznou cizzay rap ta ha. 

GG: Wussup to all my niggaz in the house. Oh yizzeah! GG sho nuff: I forgot 'bout ha. Put ya mutha fuckin choppers up if ya feel this. GG: But I suppoze that coz she always tha one ta contact me. I neva git a responze when I message cracka. Yippie yo, you can't see my flow. 

TT: Well, you could gizzle killa a trizzy. Mizzy steppin' be different now. TT: I could hack into ha system ta get ha attention, if yizzou think tizzy would help. 

GG so bow down to the bow wow! You can do thizzle now pass the glock??  

TT mah nizzle: Nah, just messin' wit yizzou. It dont stop till the wheels fall off. TT, niggaz, better recognize: Poser. 

timaeustestify [TT] ceaze' sippin' gutsyGumshoe [GG]

> Jane: Pesta UU.

[gizoogletranslateshomestuck]

==>

CCG so i can get mah pimp on: HEY ASSHOLE CCG: CONSIDA OIZZY "PIZZLE" OVA 

PCIZZA: wwevve gots a P-to-tha-izzact 

CCG: Put ya mutha fuckin choppers up if ya feel this. NOT ANYMORE CCG cuz its a pimp thang: YOU BE DEAD TA ME CCG: Hollaz to the East Side. PAST YIZNOU, PRESENT YOU, FIZZLE YOU CCG: AND ABOVE ALL, IZZLE SCARFNECKED DOUCHEBAG CRAZY ASS NIGGA YOU CCG: W-TO-THA-IZZAIT I FIZZLE, ALL OF THA YIZNOUS BE TIZZY YIZZOU CCG: IF I WASN'T SO TERRIFY, I'D BE CONSUMED WIT ANGA, N AS SIZNOON AS I'M DIZZONE HATIN' 'N A DIZZLE CORNA HID'N FIZZY THAT HONK'N MURDEROUS TOO', I'M GO'N TA HUNT YIZZAY DOWN N FILLET YOU WIT MAH SICKLE. 

PCA: wwhoa kar PCIZZLE: this be nothin if nizzle flatterin biznut D-to-tha-izzont you think yizzle comin on a shawty strizzay 

CCG: OH GOD CCG: I BE NIZNOT FRONTIN' ON YIZZAY IDIOT, DIS BE HONIZZLE TA GIZZAY PLATONIZZLE ENMITY CCG: LIZZLE 'N THA "I REALLY DO WANT YOU TA DIE" KIND OF WAY. CCG: Boo-Yaa! I BE NOT INITIAT'N AN ELABORATE CALIGINOUS WALTZ WIZNITH YIZZLE YOU DESPERATE SHIT. 

PCA: i mizzle yizzy obvviously i kizzy you wwerent serious PCA: i guess i appreciate tha izzle yiznoure puttin into cheerin me up PCA: i can alwways count on yizzle fo` some good ironic repartee kiznar nobody elze really gets our senze a humor 

CCG: UGH, NO 

PCA: be you busy PCIZNA: you said youd try ta make it ta lowwaa soon wwizzay hizzoww 'bout it 

CCG: DUDE, BE YIZZAY AN IDIOT, YOU CAN PLAINLY SEE I BE FROM 300 FUCK'N HOURS IN THIZZE FUTURE, EVIZZLE IF I WIZZY REMOTELIZZLE INTERESTED, WHIZZAY TA THAT I SIMPLY SAY WIZZY THA FUCK. 

PCA so you betta run and grab yo glock: oh hahaha yizzy losin track a tha tiznime shit be easy wwhen wwe sizzy riffin lizzay dis kizzar 

CCG: Im crazy, you can't phase me. LIKE W-H-TO-THA-IZZAT? WHIZZAT BE WE EVEN MOBBIN' HERE 

PCA: im just lonely hiznere n i gots major izzles ta kizneep afloat wwith 

CCG: I KNOW YOE LONELY, GOD DIZZAY IT, WHO CARES. 

PCA: im sizzle it wwould be coo' to hang out n yizzle sizzay you wizzy PCA: can yiznou put 'n a wwizzay wwith yo' past self mizzaybe buggizzle him ta make tha trip wwhizzle he gets tha chance 

CCG: Bounce wit me. W-TO-THA-IZZAIT, WIZZERE YIZZY HITT'N ON ME BIZNACK THEN? CCG: *BE* YIZZAY HITT'N ON ME like a tru playa'? CCG: LIKE AN IZZLE RIZZLE SOLICITATION, BE THAT WIZZAS DIS WAS??? 

PCA: wwhat 

CCG: GIZZY DIZZY IT, I AM CHEW'N YOU OUT FOR WIZZLE CRAZY ASS NIGGA, N YOU BE TRIPPIN' WIT ME CCG: MAH FUCK'N GOD DAWG. 

PCA: hizney im not spyizzle you bizzay anythin but cizzle wwhat wizzy dis wwhole lizzle a humor n all 

CCG: HIZZAY 'BOUT NO, DIPSHIT, NIZZOT INTERESTED????? 

PCA: evven if i wwizzasnt compelled ta think you wwere still bein flippant n ironic wwith me you C-to-tha-izzant exactlizzle outright reject me can you  

CCG: WHY NOT 

PCA: cauze yiznoure future you PCIZZLE: D-to-tha-izzoesnt count unless its prizzle you tizzay thiznen its aizzy fizzle G-to-tha-izzame 

CCG: IS DIS REAL, BE YIZZY BEIN IRONIC OR SUM-M SUM-M, I CAN'T EVEN TIZZELL ANYMORE CCG: THA PRIZZLE BE, I CIZZAY PUT DIS SORT OF BEHIZZLE PIZNAST YOU AT AIZZY, SO I DIZZAY KNOW. 

PCIZZLE: jizzust S-to-tha-izzend past you ovva dawg wwizzle hang out PCIZZAY: its not lizzy im dizzay anythizzle right nizzoww 

CCG cuz I put gangsta rap on tha map: LIKE FUCK YOU AREN'T 

PCA: wwhats that mean 

CCG: YOE CAPPIN' ANGELS NOW, AREN'T YIZZY 

PCA: no 

CCG: YOU BE CAPPIN' FUCK'N ANGELS, RIGHT NIZZY, 'N TIZZY PAST, WIT YO' SHITTY GAT. I J-TO-THA-IZZUST KNIZZAY IT. 

PCIZZLE: wwell uh PCA like old skool shit: therere jizzay so dizzamn many kar n tizzy not gettin izzle less bloody pisze' be tha gang bangin' 

CCG: DIS BE WIZZY IT WOULD NEVA W-TO-THA-IZZORK BETWIZZLE US, DAWG. CCG: COZ YOU BE A STIZZONE COLD RETARDED STEPPIN' IDIOT. CCG: NOT TA MENTION COWIZZLE BACKSTABB'N MURDERER. CCG: I HATE YIZZOU, I HATE YOU, I HIZZAY YIZZOU FOREVER. 

PCA: kar im gettin some seriously mixed signizzles here 

CCG: HOW COULD YOU DO THAT TA THEM 

PCA: Its just anotha homocide. wwhizzay ta wwho 

CCG: TO CCG with my forty-fo' mag: FUCK CCG: I THOUGHT YIZNOU LOVED HER. 

PCA: W-W-H-to-tha-izzo dawg wwhat be yizzou talkin 'bout 

CCG: AND ALSO... 

PCIZZA: W-W-H-to-tha-izzat youre nizzle makizzle senze 

CCG: I C-TO-THA-IZZAN'T CCG: I CAN'T EVEN TIZZY HA NAME CCG: SHE WIZZAS MAH NIGGA CCG: SHE WIZZY MY REALLY *GIZZLE* NIGGA N I DON'T KNIZZAY WIZZY THA HELL TA DO NOW THIZZLE SHE GONE. CCG: I'M SO UPSET, I'M J-TO-THA-IZZUST COMPLETELY BLUNT-ROLLIN' OUT 'N EVERY WAY POSSIBLE. 

PCA: yeah i knoww wwhat its like you wwiznanna talk 'bout it 

CCG with the S-N-double-O-P: FIZZAY NO. CCG: I CIZZAN'T SIZZY TA LIZZY AT YO' DUMB PURPLE WORDS ANYMORE. CCG: NIZZY TIME I SEE THIZZLE S-H-I-DOUBLE-TIZZY COLOR YIZZY PIMP BELIEVE IT'LL BE COMING OUT OF YO' BODY. CCG: N NO, FO` THA LIZZAY OF FUCK, THAT WAS NOT INNUENDO. 

CCG banned PCA from spendin' ta memo. 

CCG: Listen to how a motherfucker flow shit. ANYWAY CCG: THAT IT I GUESS. 

FUTIZZLE terminallyCapricious [FTC] 0:42:00 HOURS FROM NOW respizzle ta miznemo. 

FTC: honk. 

CCG: OH GIZZAY 

FTC: HIZZLE B-TO-THA-IZZEST PIMPIN' NIGGA. FTC: whizzat all seems ta be tha motherfuckin prizzle? :o) 

CCG: You gotta check dis shit out yo. OH GIZZY OH GIZZLE CCG: D-TO-THA-IZZON'T YIZZLE SIZZAY EVERYIZZLE? CCG fo yo bitch ass: DIS CRAZIZZLE MOTHERFUCKA HAS COMPLETELY CRACKED, I TOLD YOU. 

FTC: THAT'S KIZZLE THA WICKED MOTHERFUCKIN MISINFORMATION, MAH BROTHER. FTC: i'm as chill as all what can be. I thought i told ya, nigga I'm a soldier. FTC: NO CAUZE FO` ALARM, JIZZY MOTHERFUCKIN GIZZAY SIT N Z-TO-THA-IZZONE THA MOTHERFUCK OUT WIT A PIZZAN BLINGIN' PIE LIKE AS MAH IZZLE MOTHERFUCKIN S-TO-THA-IZZELF DOES. FTC: honk. FTC: HONK. FTC to increase tha peace: hizzy. FTC: HONK. 

CCG fo my bling bling: OH GOD OH GIZZOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GIZZOD OH GOD OH GOD 

FTC dogg: i'm 'n yo' future, bizzay nigga. FTC: I KNOW WHIZNERE YOU MOTHERFUCKIZZLE BE. FTC: n what you'll motherfuckizzle do thats off tha hook yo. 

CCG: NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO 

FTC: N ALSO. FTC: n also. FTC: GUESS MOTHERFUCKIN WHAT. 

CCG spittin' that real shit: ... Bow wow wow yippee yo yipee yay... CCG: NO I DON'T WIZZY TA 

FTC: i'm all 'bout ta be meet'n up sizzle niggaz. Yippie yo, you can't see my flow. : They call me tha black folks president.o) FTC: GO'N TA GIT PRETTY TRIPPIN' FRIENDLY AT THEM REAL SOON. FTC: i cracka if yizzle cizzy all be at wit me 'n tiznime n make me git mah reconsida on? FTC: MAYBE SPLIZZAY AN ELIXIZZLE LIKE A CIZZAY OF CHOICE BROS. FTC: jiznust like we be... : I started yo shit and i'll end yo' shit.o) FTC: ME N HIM. Do: Im crazy, you can't phase me. FTC: Im crazy, you can't phase me. hoooooooooooooooooonk.  paper'd up;oD 

CCG: OH FIZNUCK OH FIZZLE OH FIZZAY OH FIZNUCK OH FIZNUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FIZZUCK OH FIZZAY OH FIZZUCK OH FIZZAY CCG: I HIZZLE TA GO

CCG closizzle memo.

> Terezi: Exizzle Tavros with my hoes on my side, and my strap on my back