#its ok if we’ve never shipped or discussed shipping btw!

[rmjagonshi]

Whole Again Chapter 23

Whole Again on AO3

The violent tension between them eased. Stan went back to sleep for the remainder of Christmas Eve, Stanford following soon after, choosing to nap on the floor of the cabin. They did not discuss Ford’s actions, nor attempted to deal with the emotional fallout. Ford himself couldn’t fathom why he did what he did. The shame compounded when he informs Mason of what happened when the boy texts him on Christmas Day. Unable to talk to the boy face to face, instead he texts a more coherent story to him than he had told Mabel. He didn’t leave anything out, even if he desperately wanted to.

He had typed out the whole story in several paragraphs, and sending each text out in rapid succession. He didn’t want to give the boy a moment to respond. Once the last text was sent, he flipped the screen over on the work table in front of him.

He was sixty years old. He had traveled the multiverse for thirty years. Very little scared him anymore, but this…

He was terrified of what Mason would think. Logically, he knew Mabel had told him something. Really, Stanford wasn’t telling the boy anything he didn’t already know. But it still scared him to admit it fully.

He sat waiting for several hours. Or was it minutes? Was it minutes? It felt like ages just staring at the back of his phone case. It was clear so he could place a photograph behind it. He hadn’t yet. He really should, but the only photographs they had were tacked up on the walls.

Stanford sat in his chair, elbows braced on his knees and hands folded in front of his mouth. He watched his mobile pone with an intensity reserved for things with a particular degree of danger. He tried to focus, but his mind spun off in several different directions. Sure, Mabel seemed to handle it well enough, but Mason may not. He wouldn’t blame him. Couldn’t blame him. Stanford couldn’t defend this. It wasn’t rational.

But he’d given up trying to explain it. It didn’t matter. No explanation was really necessary. What he needed to do now was stop. Just let Bill go. Let the happy memories fade and be crusted over with bitterness and hatred.

Hadn’t he tried to do that with Stan all those years ago? Cover up nostalgia and longing with anger? It hadn’t worked then either.

He felt like crying again. He had cried more in the last six months than he had in the past thirty years. His eyes were itchy. The skin around his orbits was dry and red and bruised. The skin around his fingernails nibbled to the point of bleeding. He hadn’t shaved in days. Neither one had. Wasn’t much point out here, and there were far more important things to worry about.

Like whether or not his grandson would ever talk to him again. Nephew! Grandnephew. Mason is Sherman’s grandson. Not mine.

He jolted when his phone buzzed. His first instinct was to tear open the window and chuck the thing into the water so he wouldn’t have to respond. It buzzed twice more, vibrating on the smooth surface. The glow from the screen faintly shining along the edges.

He didn’t want to answer it. Instead, he stood up, and paced the small length of the cabin. There wasn’t much room, little less than ten feet or so. He passed by the window where Herman sat. The little tree peered up at him with concern. They hadn’t been paying any attention to him the past few days. The tree waved its tiny branches at him; a child reaching for its parent.

Stanford patted Herman’s green and leafy head, twiddling his fingers as Herman made attempts to grab them. His tiny mouth soundlessly opened and closed. When Stanford didn’t react, Herman grasped his second pinky, the only one small enough for him to hold onto, and shook it. Stanford blinked, unsure of the tree’s meaning, until he noticed that Herman was trying to pull his hand down. The soil was dry. How had he been so neglectful? He picked up the watering can sitting beside the tree on the windowsill. The water tipped out in several divided streams and Herman squeaked in delight, dancing back and forth in the rain.

Stanford smiled at the little thing. “Look at you. All you want is attention, water and sunlight. You have no worries. You don’t care what anyone thinks of you.” He placed the can back on the windowsill and watched as the excess water seeped into the soil, passed Herman’s interlocking roots and through the hole in the bottom of the pot. The now slightly brown water beaded at the edge of the pot and the chipped plate it was balanced on.

A tiny squawk pulled his attention back to the tree. It waved its branches towards his face, flicking water droplets on his cheeks and glasses. Stanford stepped back, wiping his glasses on his shirt before looking down at the still squawking tree. It seemed to be gesturing in his direction, then to an area behind him.

He turned, expecting Bill, but he was alone in the cabin. If he listened closely, he could still hear Stan’s snores from down below. A buzz echoed through the silent cabin. His phone…again. He should answer it. He turned back to Herman and the tree squawked loudly, waving his branches angrily at Stanford, then towards the table.

Stanford sighed.

“I know, ok? I know. I need to respond. But what if he doesn’t want to speak to me again? This is Bill, we’re talking about. I…” His hands came up to rake through his already disheveled hair. “I don’t want him to hate me.”

Herman just gave him a somber look and cooed. His phone buzzed again.

That was five. He had to respond now. He walked the ten or so feet from the window to the side work table like a man marching to his death. His pace was hesitant and uneven. Then, all at once, he was standing beside the table with little memory of how he got there. And little desire to pick up his phone.

It’s fine. It’s going to be ok. No matter how he feels, no matter what he says. I have no idea what he’s going to say. What is he going to say? No! No. It doesn’t matter. It’s out now. No more secrets. I’ve kept too many secrets already.

Stanford sat back down in the worn chair and waited. Come on! It’s not going to bite you. Words might…hurt, but they won’t actually cause physical harm.

He took a steadying breath and reached for his phone. The cool plastic bit into his fingertips as he flipped it over to read the screen.

It was dark.

He took a second breath and pressed the side button, drawing in his passcode pattern before Mason’s texts appeared on the screen.

He held his breath as he read the first message.  

Ok, first, it’s gonna be ok. Mabel and I are here for you. So is Mom and Dad and everyone else. We still love you.

A gasped sob forced its way from his lips. He couldn’t even finish reading before his sight grew blurry with ever more tears.

DAMNIT! Pull yourself together! You are too old to be weeping at the drop of a hat anymore!

He wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his jacket so he could keep reading.

But you have got absolutely ship taste in…boyfriends? Is that the right word for this? What is Bill anyway?

Stanford chuckled at the auto-censored profanity. He’d usually call Mason out on it; there was no reason to use profanity when other, more colorful and accurate descriptors were available, however he doubted there was a better descriptor in this instance.

As to Mason’s question, Stanford himself wasn't sure what his relationship with Bill could be called. Though he was certain it wouldn’t be something so juvenile.

He scrolled to the next text.  

Second. I would ask why? But this is Bill. I think I can get an idea, and frankly, I don’t really want to know the details. You told me enough already. And Mabel won’t shut up about what you told her.  

He grimaced. He would have to apologize to the boy. He had promised both of them and himself that he wouldn’t keep any secrets from them. Mason had asked and Stanford had told him. In age appropriate terms, but still. He supposed it was akin to hearing about your parent’s or grandfather’s relationships. Kind gross when you looked too closely at it.

He read further.  

Third, and yes Mabel told me, how are you doing with this…whole new…’thing’…now that Bill and Stan are…well…Bill and Stan? I mean, we’ve been trying to figure it out for a month now, and it seems to be the best theory we have so far.

He felt phantom bile build up in his throat. Yes. Mabel’s theory. It was a good one. And one he hadn’t bothered considering until she had told him. It was still one he wasn't willing to contemplate for any significant time. He wasn’t ready for that yet. He may never be ready, but he needed time to collect evidence before he made any decisions of faith. And if he was going to have a breakdown, he really wanted to do it where he felt safe.

He didn’t know how to answer Mason’s question. So instead, he ignored it and continued reading.

Btw, I think there might be something we need to talk to you about. I don’t really know what’s going on, but we told Mom and Dad about what happened. You know that part. Well she called Soos to confirm and he sent over some pictures and scans of your journals. Not many pages, just some. But my point is that everyone knows what happened. But when we told Mom and Dad, they

The text had reached its character limit and had been split.

Thought that you and Stan had done…’things’. I don’t know how to put this. Mom said that Great Grandma Caryn had told her something. But she won’t tell us.

Stanford frowned. He hadn’t spoken to his mother since mid-September. He and Stan both had sent her postcards as often as they sent them to the kids, but they never scheduled calls. Something his mother had told his niece? Something his mom had told Diane that had gotten her concerned enough to question the safety and health of her children? There was something he was missing.

Mason, I don’t think I understand what you’re getting at. I know it might be difficult, but I need you to be clear.

He could address Mason’s previous questions later. The reply came almost immediately.

Mom thought Stan molested Mabel and me.

His cell phone hit the table with a clatter as his hands went slack. He blinked several times to clear his vision and leaned over the table to re-read the text. It didn’t change. He swallowed to clear his suddenly dry throat and tried to formulate a response. But his mind was blank. He just stared to the phone on the table, the glaring words from Mason’s text boring holes into his brain. The boy was only thirteen! Why did he know about thigs like that? What possessed her? How could she think?

The insanity of it whipped up a torrent in his mind. He tamped it down enough to reply.  

What? How? What on Earth gave her that impression?

Well, Weirdmaggedon was kinda traumatic. For all of us. Mabel still has nightmares sometimes and…and I get them too. Mom took us to see a therapist and we were being screened for PTSD. I was supposed to be taking anti-psychotics and Mabel was being treated for depression.

What in the hell had been happening in Piedmont!? Why hadn’t the kids told them? Sure, they had written and talked about doctor’s appointments, but nothing of the context. The next text shook Stanford out of his thoughts.

When we told them about summer, that all stopped. But Mom said something she heard from Grandma Caryn made her think that. Do you have any idea what she means?

Not even the faintest.

I may have a few ideas. But none of them substantial. Influenced by the news? Stan’s sordid past maybe? Your guess is as good as mine.

But it was something your Mom said.

And that was what confused him the most.

I really have no idea. There’s something nagging, like I should know. But I can’t bring it to mind. Mason, this is a serious accusation. I think I may have to sit down with both of them and figure out where this is coming from. But it will have to wait for now. Stan is still healing and…

And there were more important things to consider. This speculative nonsense could wait until he talked to them.

And I don’t know how I’m feeling. This ‘whole new thing’ as you put it. I still need to collect more data.

He paused a moment before continuing.

And you have no idea how good it is to hear you give your support. I know I don’t deserve it. But all the same, Thank you. I know my…’feelings’ towards Bill are asinine. But unfortunately, they are real. Bill wearing Stan’s face, or whatever this is now is

The text auto-sent when it reached the character limit. He was rambling now anyway.  

I don’t know where to go from here. I don’t know what I’m doing.

It was the honest truth. He really didn’t.

You can’t stay out there forever.

Technically, yes, we could have.

Could have?

Bi  Stan’s been sealed. He agreed to create or magic up some unicorn hair. Just enough for a proper seal. I had the moonstone and mercury already. It’s still in the early stages, and he’s sleeping off the stress from the past few days, but it seems to be holding.

He didn’t bother to correct his typing mistake. What was the point now?

Does this mean you guys are coming back?

He didn’t want to crush the boy’s hope. Even if Mabel’s theory was correct, even if Stan and Bill were the same person and even if he was sealed, he still had Bill’s memories. Bills personality. It was too dangerous to take them anywhere near their family. But it was quickly becoming clear that they would have to find a port to restock.  

I don’t know. No more magic means our supplies will dwindle. We will need to make port eventually. If the seal holds, and he can’t take it off…

He didn’t really want to think about it just now. Too many steps ahead.

I don’t want to tell you what to do Grunkle Ford, but COMEHOME!

He wanted to. At this point, he wanted to. But there were still far too many unknowns, far too many variables to account for.

And Call your mom!

That on the other hand he could do. And really probably should do sooner rather than later.

Even if it we are wrong. I will risk fighting Bill again to make sure you come home safe.

Mason’s final text left his head spinning and his heart full.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*    

Christmas Day was spent in quiet contemplation. Stanford with a phone in his hand chatting with and reassuring the kids - abandoned book on seismic activity in the Atlantic on the bed beside him - and Stan propped up with a makeshift puzzle to test his finer motor control now that his natural depth perception was gone. Stanford hoped that, given enough time to recover, Stan's previously documented healing magic would set in again and would repair the damage.

He could only wait and see what happened.

Stan, despite still being disoriented in the mornings and a little clumsily when it came to judging far distances, was recovering uncannily quickly. Like it was his natural condition, and having binocular vision was foreign. He struggled for less than a few hours adapting to everything being skewed left, but it seemed as though his brain and body adjusted easily.

Stanford was still taking notes on his condition. Vitals, rate of adaptation, how quickly Stan completed the puzzle each time, what sort of music Herman liked to listen to, Mabel's recovery from another bout with Smile Dip, memories of Bill…memories of Stan.

He’d called his Mom at Mason’s behest. Christmas evening. He’d been too scared to try a skype call, so he’d opted for a standard phone call. It was somehow more intimidating than talking with his grandson. NEPHEW!

“The little ones filled us all in on what’s been happening out there. But I want to hear it from you. An’ don’t try and lie to me, or hold anything back, Stanferd Pines, ‘cuz I’m yer mama. You can’t hide anything from me.”

Hearing her voice, her real honest to god voice was still soothing in ways he didn’t even know he was hurt. He’d neglected to call home much after college, and with Bill and the portal and spending thirty years…well, he never expected to hear her voice again. It was a relief to know he could apologize to her. To make peace. To her her say that she loved him.

He’d spoken at length. Telling her as much as he was able about his research, the portal, Fiddleford and Bill. About what happened to him for the thirty years he was in the multiverse. About his feelings for Bill. About their relationship. And about what had happened since the end of summer. Much of it repeated from his last call to her, but she listened silently, only interjecting with the occasional question or asking for clarification. She made no comment about his relationship with Bill. She didn’t ask him to explain, even though he did. She just listened.

“And I just don’t know what to do now. I don’t have a plan anymore. I’m out of my depth.” It felt so strange to say. Stanford had always had a plan of action. Even in the most dire of situations, he had something.

Caryn’s Jersey accent cracked over the speaker.  

“Where’s Stanley now?”

“Sitting in the galley. He’s doing a puzzle. His depth perception should be gone, but he’s recovering alarmingly fast.”

“Can I talk to him?”

NO! Stanford’s ears rang with the force of the mental shout. He stepped close to the stairs to see Bill, but Stan had pulled himself into the corner of the booth, hidden from Stanford’s angle.

“I…I don’t…” He stuttered, hesitating at the top of the stairs.

“Stanford?” His mother’s voice was growing concerned.

I can’t. I’m sorry. I can’t. Not her. Stan’s voice rang out in his head, so full of fear that it was staring to seep into his own thoughts. He gulped, clenching his free hand to steady his nerves.

“Mom…you have been listening, right? I mean…about Bill and…everything. Stan isn’t…he’s not…” He had explained it right? Stan wasn’t himself.

“Stanford Pines, he is my son and I want to know that he’s ok.” There was urgency on her voice. He couldn’t refuse her that.

“He is. As much as he can be. I’m doing my best to make sure he is.”

“You’d better. And what about you? Are you ok?”

Well, she had told him to be honest. He pulled away from the steps to the cabin door, pushing it open and standing on deck.

“Stanford?”

He took a breath, but it came out as a sob anyway.

“…..No.”

“Stanford, honey…?”

“I still love him, Mom. He hurt me so much. But I still love him.”

“Who’re you talkin’ about? Stanley, or this Bill fellow?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know, and that’s part of the problem. They’re so much alike. I never noticed it before, but they are. And I can’t tell the difference anymore.” He didn’t think there were any tears left, but sure enough, his voice cracked and his eyes stung.

There was a sight on the other end of the line.

“Stanford, sweetie. Maybe it’s time you stopped tryin’ ta figure this out on your own. Let us help. Let your family help you.”

“I can’t! What if he hurts you? What if Mabel’s wrong? What if something bad happens?!”  

“Just…we’ll think of something, ok? We can figure this out together. Just come home. Please.”

Twice. That was twice now his family asked him to come home. He didn’t want to give up this opportunity, but wasn’t it lost anyway? They weren’t sailing around the world looking for anomalies anymore. If they did, he would be putting his entre family in danger. Again. He couldn’t do that.

But there was nothing else he could do here. They were going to run out of supplies soon. He was out of ideas and Stan needed real medical care if his magic was truly sealed. He needed help. His family was willing to help.

Maybe it was time.

“I think…I think we are. Just a few more days to see if the unicorn necklace works. I won’t leave until I know for sure. And I can’t sail by myself. I need to know Bill can maneuver well enough with….with one eye.”

“Thank you.” The relief in her voice was palpable.

“I love you, Mom.”

“And I love you. Just get back here so I can say it to your face.”

He hung up without thinking to ask about Mason’s question. He shook his head. It didn’t matter. That was a conversation he wasn't ready to have just yet.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  

Three days passed in relative calm. He kept everyone updated. Stan was recovering. His color returned and his balance was as steady as ever. Depth perception gone, but you wouldn’t know it from the way he handled things. His appetite returned with vigor and they were alarmingly low on food. Stan had tried fishing again, but nothing was biting. They were in an ecological dead zone.

Preliminary tests yielded much needed relief. Stan was unable to use magic. His fingers flickered with tiny blue flames, but the unicorn seal was effective. He was unable to manipulate objects or pull things from the ether. Stan’s previously documented healing ability was muted. He was unable to actively use magic to heal, but his natural healing process was decidedly unnatural. Stanford was still uneasy about Bill still being able to invade his mind, but he supposed mindreading and thought projection was preferable to out right possession.

Stan had told him that their connection was instinctual rather than something actively sought out. Stan didn’t utilize magic when he read Stanford’s mind or projected his thoughts.

The implications were unsettling.

It was mid afternoon on the twenty-ninth when Stanford returned Stan’s phone.

Stan had been sitting on deck with a pole, hoping in vain that he’d be able to catch something for dinner that wasn’t rice and beans. But there was nothing. Stan still wore the bandage covering his eye and hands, but the wounds were mostly closed now. He sat in the fold out chair beside the railing, eye focused on the listless bobber.

Stanford stood, arms crossed, and leaning in the doorway of the cabin, watching him. The face was the same grizzled and scruffy profile of his brother. Stan had grown a nice beard in the time they had been out there. The grey surprisingly dark despite the shade of his hair. The balding spot at the back of his head less noticeable.

Stanford could almost imagine that everything was normal. The calm ocean breeze, Stan fishing for their dinner. His hand clenched around the smart phone tucked under his arm. He wasn’t sure if this was the right thing to do, but it felt…earned. Stan had earned it.

Stanford’s history with Bill made him wary, but Bill as Stan…it was hard to say.

Stanford told himself that this was a test. What would Bill do with access to the kids? At least communication. Both Mason and Mabel had expressed their desires (and trepidations) to speak with Stan. And they were prepared to deal with the fallout of Bill chose to speak instead.

Mabel had assured him that his fears were groundless.

Stanford crossed the deck quietly, steps muffled by the pink bunny slippers on his feet. He stood at Stan’s left side, eyes on the horizon for a moment, or six, before he held the charged phone under Stan’s nose.

When nothing happened, he turned to see Stan had leaned back in his chair, eye trained on the phone in Stanford’s palm like it was going to bite him.

Stanford’s voice lodged in his throat. They should talk. They needed to talk. But he couldn’t. He he had gathered enough from the little Bill let leak from his mind that Stan wasn’t ready either.

Baby steps.

This was his peace offering.

Stan had turned to look Stanford in the eye. Stanford felt the hesitant probe into his mind. It was like a cooling effect starting at his temples and radiating over his scalp. Bill was trying to see if he was serious. The fishing pole sat tucked into the arm of the folding chair, forgotten, as Stan reached for the phone. Fingers brushing against Stanford’s palm as he took it.

Stan cradled the phone to his chest, hand covering the entirety of it as if Stanford would take it back. Stanford, instead, nodded, dropping his hand and turning to head back into the cabin. A firm hand wrapped around his wrist stopped him.

Stan’s fingers traced over the leather band of Vegvisir, dipping under the band to trace his wrist. He hadn’t taken it off much since they left Iceland. It was supposed to guide lost souls, and he needed any guidance any Gods were willing to offer.

Stan’s fingers trailed up and of the heel of his palm and across his fingers. He offered Stanford a soft smile, turning away abruptly and blinking back tears.

Damnit, Sixer! Keep makin’ me cry like this an I’m gonna get an infection.

Stanford smirked at Stan’s mental words, pulling his hand free and walking back to the cabin.

“As long as you let me change the bandages, it’ll be fine.” Funny how he could find his voice only when he was walking away.

“Huh? What did you…?” The fuck was that!? Was I that loud? Fuck. Need to control it better. Freaks him out.

“Yes, you are that loud. And…I’m used to it. That doesn’t give you permission to do it all the time, but, I’m fine with it.” Stanford entered the cabin and made his way down stairs to start making their meager meal of rice and beans.

“Sixer, I wasn’t talking.” Okay. Small thoughts. Private thoughts. Breathe.

Stanford felt a distinct change in the cool feeling over his scalp. Like it was pulling back, taking part of his mind with it. He frowned, rolling his eyes at Bill’s pathetic attempts to quiet his thoughts.

“Can still hear you!” He called, rooting around in the cupboards for a clean pot to boil rice. He heard a clatter from upstairs and the rapid pounding of steps coming nearer. He really didn’t want to fight. They had spent the last few days in relative calm. He had hoped that it might last a bit longer.

What does it mean? What does it Mean?!

“It means you’re loud. Now stop. I need to cook dinn…” But he was interrupted by a hand on his shoulder. Stanford whorled around, fist at the ready, despite logically knowing it was Bill. His instincts were still in top form.

But his fist was caught, Stan’s face fearful.

“Sixer, I ain’t talkin’. With my mouth or my mind. How’re you hearin’ me?”

Stanford glared, yanking his hand free to turn back to the counter, but Stan grabbed his arm, intent on having this conversation.

Same way I always hear you. How else?

But Stan’s eye widened. His thoughts louder still and woven with fear and confusion. What the hell is that?! Why’s my head feel hot? Why’re you so loud? How can he hear me?

“What on Earth are you talking about now? What…”              

The ship shuddered. Hard. Stan instinctively wrapped his arms around Ford, tugging his brother close. His first instinct to shield Ford with his own body. Ford had made an effort to push Stan away, arms coming up to bunch in his shirt before he realized the greater danger. They stood silent for a moment before the ship shook again, this time, nearly throwing the twins off balance.

“Look, we can fight later. We got bigger problems.” Stanford pulled away from Stan and darted up the stairs again, Stan a step behind him.

The cabin door slammed open, handle digging into the paint on the wall behind it. Stan leaned over the railing beside his toppled chair and fishing pole, Stanford skidding to the rail on the other side of the deck.

The water was choppy, waves slapping against the side of the ship well past the name plate. Moments before it had been dead calm. There was no wind, lest none strong enough to cause wavs like this.

“Something’s out there.” Stanford’s voice floated just above the sound of the waves.

Stan strained his sight as far as it would go, but the unicorn necklace held firm. The water was too dark to see much below its surface. But whatever hit them had to be at least the same size as their ship. Which meant either they needed to get the fuck outta dodge, or grow wings.

Sub maybe? But then why aren’t we sinking? Got to be living. What the hell is that big?

“PORT!”

Stan was sliding into the port side railing beside Stanford in four strides. There was a rapid churning in the water some hundred yards from their ship. The water was noticeably lighter with tiny whitecaps and it was growing bigger, all coalescing into…oh fuck.

“Maelstrom!”

“How the Hell?!” There isn’t anything here. It was all a joke!

“The Bermuda triangle has been a hotspot for paranormal activity for centuries. What’s surprising is we haven’t run into anything yet.”

“No, it isn’t, and I would know.” He would know. There’s nothing here. There wasn’t supposed to be anything here. It was just an arbitrary patch of ocean that didn’t even have anything interesting at the bottom. It was just the Hatteras Abyssal Plain. It was called an abyss because there was nothing there!

Although the whirlpool virulently forming on their port side begged to differ. Stan wracked his mind to explain why a fucking maelstrom was forming in the middle of a mono-directional current. Whirlpools formed near shores, hell some of the biggest were tourist locations. So why here?  

“Then what is this?” Ford’s questions were not helping him find the answers.

Stan just spread his arms, palms raised and face looking shocked and baffled. “Fuck if I know!”

“I thought you knew everything?”

“Yeah, well, it takes time to find things. And I never said I knew…”

The ship lurched violently again, knocking both men off balance.

Ford raced to the starboard side and peered over the edge. The water was too dark and to choppy to see anything beneath the surface. Stan could feel that they were being watched. It crept up his spine and pinched at the back of his neck. There was something in the water. Something that was not supposed to be there. Many somethings. Stan’s palms grew cold, and his throat seized.    

“We aren’t caught on the main pull, just the feedback. Turn the engines on and get us out of here!” Ford bellowed, climbing on the roof of the cabin to grab the stabilizing rope for the antenna.

“On it!”

The ship lurched again, sending Stan careening sideways into the wheel. A dorsal fin came into sight over the railing. It was dark, and grey and the lack of a visible tail fin told Stan all he needed to know. He hoped they were hunting something else.  

“That’s not just a whirlpool, Sixer!”

“I see that!” Ford’s response was muted by the water slapping against the side of the boat. Stan hadn’t turned the engines on yet. Had they been bumped, or just jerked around by the currents? He could hear Ford’s phone clicking as the dorsal fin slipped below the water.

“But they’re extinct! They’ve been extinct since the Pliocene. There’s…is there enough food to support such an apex predator?  They shouldn’t exist.” Now was not the time to be a scientist Poindexter! They really should have installed a hull cam for instances like this.

“You gonna be the one to tell him that?” Go ahead, Sixer, tell it that it was in the wrong time period. The disappearance of the dorsal fin indicated a dive. Which meant they really needed to move. But they were cold, they had virtually no heat signature. Wait no, the engine was hot. And they gave off an electrical current. But if he started the engines, they would be noticed if by some miracle they hadn’t been already. Shit. Shit shit shit!

The whirlpool sputtered, like something enormous had passed through it.

“Just go!” Stan slammed the ignition and turned the wheel hard to starboard. The Stan O’War II jerked to life and sliced through the water at a top speed of 14 knots. It wasn’t fast, not really, but it was the fastest they could go with their craft. Stan crossed his fingers and hoped they would go unnoticed.

He knew that the universe hated him when he risked a look back and saw the dorsal fin re-appear and give chase.    

“GO!” Ford roared, swinging down off the roof, and pulling the stern antenna guide rope to the railing. The bow guide rope already secure.  

“We can’t out run a Meg!” His brother was crazy. Top speed of a Great White was nearly 20 knots, Megalodon was at least that fast. They would be overtaken within minutes.  

“We’re gonna try,” was Ford’s only response.

The only way they were going to out run this thing was to outmaneuver it. Time to utilize those shitty driving skills. Stan cracked his proverbial knuckles and spun the wheel hard to port. They cut right in front of where the snout would be and Stan felt the ship spin 30 degrees as the beast grazed the bottom of their hull.

Stan pushed the throttle as far as it would go and gunned it back in the direction of the whirlpool.

“What are you doing?!” Ford was at his side now, braced against the cabin door frame. His eyes stretched wide and mouth hung agape.

“The only thing I know how.” Stan barked, spinning the wheel back to starboard. Ford jerked and leaned into the turn as they banked just shy of the whirlpool. It wasn’t enough to tip the boat at this speed, but the splash of water on his right side was unnerving. He’d have to be more careful.

Ford charged from the cabin door to the railing and aimed a sniper rifle in the distance. He held his breath for one, two three, seconds and takes the shot. Stan wants to tell him that it’s a waste of time to try, and a sniper round isn’t going to do anything against that hide. But he doesn’t, he just turns the wheel to ride with a rogue wave.

Ford shoulders the rifle and pulls back the sleeve of his jacket, the anomaly tracker strapped to his wrist. He clicks the button twice and a tracking beacon blip appears on the hologram.

“You really think you hit it?” Stan asked because he really doesn’t know if Ford could have made the shot. Ford shows him the beacon momentarily before heading in the cabin and hooking it to the main sonar beacon and slips on the heavy and oversized set of headphones. Herman cowers close to his pot. Ford spares a moment to pat the little tree before turning his attention back to the sonar.

Stan can hear the faint blips of a few larger-than-they-should-be things in the water around them. They hadn’t used the sonar much since leaving Iceland. Ford’s main focus was making it to a safe area to contain Bill, to contain him. They used it briefly in the Baffin Bay up near Greenland but that was to avoid icebergs or any other ships in the area. They hadn’t needed it much. It was limited, but it was far better than sailing blind.

Stanford’s voice crackled over the speaker mounted on the wheel console. Stan flicked the two way switch on the mic so he could reply.  

“Got her locked, It’s a big one. Damn near eighty feet!” Stan heard a few more clicks and pings from the sonar. “And it’s small compared to whatever else caused that maelstrom.”

Eighty Feet!? Jesus Christ, what does it eat?!  

“Coming up on your 5 o’clock.” It was eerie how calm Ford sounded, like he’d done this before. They really needed to have that talk about Ford’s adventures. But later, they had a monster to run from.

Stan yanked down on the throttle and leaned into the wheel, steering them to port and gunning it again. Stan yelled over the buzz of the engine, “How many we got?”

“It’s fuzzy, but I’ve got four distinct pings, we only got one on our tail. And she’s closing fast!”

Damnit! Give UP!

“4 o’clock!”

DAMNIT! God, I hope this works.

Stan slammed the throttle to zero. They listed for about 100 yards, losing speed fast. The ping darted past, not expecting its prey to stop. Stan engaged the engines and wrenched the wheel with all his strength sixty degrees. It was a hard turn, one that splashed his side again, but they were clear.

“Jesus!” Ford’s veneer of calm was finally cracking. Stan whooped and pounded the wheel with his fist.

“At current speeds and trajectory, it will be at our 1 o’clock in 2100 feet. You got a minute-thirty!”

Shit. This was gonna be hard. He couldn’t slow down. If the thing was aiming for their 1 o’clock, then it was gonna be leaning right when it met them. Best case, they graze the starboard bow, worst…well, he didn’t fancy their chances with their entire bow gone. Time to pull off a miracle.  

Stan kept course. If he changed direction now, it would notice and readjust its own trajectory. He’d have to rely on the turning radius of the ol’ girl. No magic to help this time.

The seconds ticked by in a surreal state of taking forever and slipping passed at unnervingly fast.

“900 feet.”

“I KNOW!” Stan gripped the wheel, willing his heart to stop beating hard enough to bruise him from the inside out. A niggling voice told him to have Stanford take off the unicorn necklace. Stan couldn’t. He couldn’t even touch the thing with his hands. But no. He couldn’t control it. He was more likely to put them in more danger than they were already in. They were just going to have to do this the old-fashioned way.

Stan jerked the wheel to keep on course.

We’re gonna make it. We’re gonna make it. We’re…      

“It’s changed course! 3 O’CLOCK!”

FUCK!

“Starboard!”

“You’re fuckin’ crazy!” Stan shouted over the wind. What the Hell was Stanford on? If it was coming in on their 3, then they were going to hit it head on if they turned now.

“Starboard, NOW!”

“Damn you!” With his magic bound, he wasn't able to see what Stanford could. It was a moment of trust. Did he trust Stanford?

The answer was obvious.

Stan spun the wheel hard to starboard, right into the jaws of a creature of legend. He braced against the wheel, waiting to heat the crunch of steel and fiberglass. But nothing came. He opened his eyes in time to see a dorsal fin taller than he was pass by their boat close enough to touch. A thump from below told him they had slipped over the head of the monster.

It was over in a moment and he slammed the throttle as hard as he could and leaned further into the turn. Protective symbols faded in an out around his hands and neck as he pushed harder. He strained against the seal to get eh ship to move faster. Just a little faster.  

“It’s not acting right! Megs are ambush hunters, its chasing.” Stanford’s voice was shaky over the speaker.

“I know! Sixer, I know!” He didn’t care if it was acting like it should. Hell, it could be typically an herbivore and he wouldn’t care because it was chasing them right now!

Several pings and sonar feedback reverberations spat out of the speaker. The pings were faint and spaced. Did they lose it?

Stan heard a lever switch on, a few buttons press and his ears were ringing with the magnified sonar. Stanford had cranked it up to eleven.

“It’s headed back!”

Stan felt a wave of exhaustion as much of the adrenaline left him. He leaned on the wheel console as he slowed the ship down to a stop. He could hear the sonar. There was nothing after them, but he was still on edge. Something wasn't right.

After a few more moments and close monitoring of the sonar, Stanford stepped out on to the deck, binoculars in hand. He raised them to his face and leaned against the railing.

“Jesus! I think it finally got tired.” It came out as a gasp. Stanford’s shoulders shuddering with each panted breath. Stan’s mind slammed against the inside of his skull hard enough to blur his vision as magical symbols wrapped around his head.

“Nope, found better prey” How the hell did we miss that?

“What?” Stanford had dropped the binoculars to tun back, but Stan just nodded at the water.

There was an eruption of water 600 yards off their ship. A juvenile whale rose up out of the water, twisting and writhing. As the water fell back, they could see the form of the giant shark that had been chasing them. Pale underbelly rippling with the effort to stay upright. Teeth sunk into the flesh of the whale easily bigger than their ship. The snout jerked back and forth sending frothy spurts of blood and tissue.  

“Holy mother of…yeah ok.” Stanford pats frantically at his pockets searching for his phone to snap pictures.

Stan pats his on the shoulder and turns to head back inside. “I’m gonna get a beer, you want one?”

Stanford grunts and nods distractedly, giving up on his search for his phone and instead bracing against the railing and watching the monstrosity slip beneath the surface of the water with its victim.    

Stan heads down the steps to the galley, pulling out the last two beers they had. Well, Stan had a bottle of rum tucked away behind his mattress, but he didn’t suppose either of them were intending to get drunk. He cracked the tab and took a sip. The chilled liquid doing its job at cooling his over heated insides. The galley was in disarray. Paper and tools and books all strewn about the floor and bench. The cupboards were locked closed, but he was sure that the plates and silverware were a mess behind those closed wood panels. They’d deal with it later. First, they needed to figure out where the hell they were. They were probably still in the Bermuda Triangle, but there was no way in Hell they were staying around with one Meg around, let alone however many came through.

Stan grabbed the second beer, taking another sip from his own and making his way back up to the cabin. He met Stanford at the door and passed him the can.

“You were saying something about the Bermuda Triangle not being a hotspot of paranormal activity?” Stanford raised an eyebrow, popping the tab and taking his own sip, grimacing at the taste.

“But it’s NOT! I made it up. Why do you think it’s a triangle?”

“You made it up?” Stanford stared at him incredulously, beer held slack.  

“I thought it was funny!” Stan rests the can against his forehead, hoping the cool liquid will cool his aching head. “Jesus, where the hell did those things come from? They sure as shit ain’t from this dimension, that’s for damn sure.”

Stanford hummed, leaving his can on the table and waling over to the main computers. A few switch flicks and the sonar display is off and their main computer display takes its place. Stan ignores it, choosing instead to gulp down the wheaty swill Iceland claimed was beer. Maybe he would pull out that bottle of rum. It was either that, or water. They really needed to decide when they were going to make port.

“I’m hacking into the satellite array over the area. The whirlpool seems to be gone now. Either that or the re-fresh rate on these USNCEC arrays are garbage.” Stan wandered over to the computers, leaning over Stanford’s shoulder to get a better look at the screen.

Sixer was right, the resolution was crap, but that maelstrom had been near sixty feet across and was sure to pop up on any satellite image, but there was nothing. And it had been just a few minutes since they stopped.

Stan rubbed at his chin, beer hanging loosely and forgotten in his left hand. He tapped his foot intermittently as he thought. A whirlpool pops up out of nowhere and comes with four fucking leviathans easily big enough to swallow our boat whole. Fuckin’ Christ, this is stupid. Had the whirlpool been caused by previously unknown creatures lurking in the ocean or had the vortex brought the beasts from somewhere else? That wasn’t a typical whirlpool. He was sure of it now. It was a crack. He just didn’t know where from.

Stan paused, he really didn’t want to think about this. Sure, it was the theory that he’d pushed Sixer to back when Ford was studying the strange things in Gravity Falls, but it wasn’t true. The weird things that existed in this world had been always been here, they didn’t slip over in some crack between dimensions. And cracks were notoriously unstable, they didn’t last long. Maybe a few days at most. Hell, the only reason the one between here and the Nightmare Realm had lasted as long as it did was because some outside force was keeping it open, namely the portal Ford had built. The rift had then been kept open with his own magic, though, it would have closed by the week’s end. Even he had his limits.

But this, this was unprecedented. Cracks don’t form on their own. They were side effects of something much bigger. And those leviathans weren’t from his dimension, so Weirdmageddon had not caused this. Stan pressed his fingers into his eyes and took a calming breath before speaking. But Ford beat him to the punch.

“Those weren’t from you and yours, I’ve seen them before. In my travels I came across a dimension where sixty percent of the planets were primarily aquatic environments. I was…marooned on Tifus 8, ocean planet, for three weeks when trying to gain access to a sanctioned portal.”

Stan didn’t bother responding. Instead leaning over Ford’s body to stare at the satellite images on the screen. He pressed a few keys, expanding the image and waving off Ford’s indignant scoffing. The whirlpool was gone, but the after effects were just starting. The energy needed to open a portal, even a small one, was immense. That excess energy needed to go somewhere. In Gravity Falls, the energy had emitted as gravitational anomalies and power surges. Here, it seemed, the energy was radiating out into the water and air. The image was fairly clear, a few scatted clouds here and there. He refreshed the image. More clouds. So many they almost completely obscured the image. And it was at least four minutes old.

Stan’s eye flicked up to the window to confirm. The sky was dark and the wind was continuing to steer waves into their hull.

They were in for one hell of a storm.

“The closest port is either Puerto Rico or the Dominican Republic. Got a preference?” Ford was already a step ahead of him it seemed. Not a big step, but still. Stan smirked.

“Puerto Rico is probably not the safest place, but I doubt we’ll get better supplies elsewhere. Set the course. I’ll take first shift. You get sleep. We ain’t stoppin’ till we hit land. And this is gonna get bumpy real quick.”

*~*~*~*

Stan was wrong. Quick implied that there was a window of time before something was to happen. A few moments to a few hours depending on the circumstance. However, Stan’s definition of quick was not applicable. Immediate was a better fit, as fat rain drops splatted on the deck the moment he stepped out to ready the engines again.

With the GPS set, all he had to do was keep following the path highlighted on the hologram mounted on the wheel. Which became a blessing forty minutes later when the sky got darker and the rain came down in sheets. He could hear the distant sounds of rumbling and took a moment every now and again to glance at the sky.

From their current location, they were about two days from Puerto Rico. Just shy of 48 hours. He’d sail until dawn (or at least until morning if the storm hadn’t let up enough to actually see dawn) before going down to trade off. Ford had come out to wrap a blanket and raincoat around him before going to sleep, with the promise that Stan would wake him if anything happened. Stan had wrapped him in a brief one-armed hug without thinking. Ford hadn’t hugged back. They stood there for an awkward moment, Ford’s arms hanging limp at his sides before Stan let out an embarrassed cough and pulled back to steer.

Hours passed quicker sitting in a hospital waiting room than they did for Stan bundled at the helm of the Stan O’ War II. The rain dumping buckets as the crack’s energy dissipated. He followed the hologram’s map, hoping that their satellite connection would hold. He didn’t fancy trying to navigate the old-fashioned way in the storm.

His mind wandered with the hours. Memories overlapping and merging together. They were, not ok exactly, but they were amiable. If strained. The last few days had really helped to ease the tension from before. But their ‘encounter’ had taught him that he was not going to lose control again. He had gotten too wrapped up in his own emotions and wasn't thinking rationally. And he didn’t have the best record even when he was rational.

His hands shook when his now eidetic memory thoughtfully provided the images of said ‘encounter’. Not even the deafening storm could drown out Ford’s cries. Stan kicked at the metal console hard enough to bruise his toes. It hurt like a bitch, but it cleared his mind. The memories not so vivid.

Never again. He promised himself. Never again would it come to that. He would shoot himself before he lost control like that again. Even if Ford had wanted it in the end.

Nothing would happen between them. Not while he was still trying to figure out who the hell he was. Because as much as he wanted to be Stan…he wasn’t. He wasn’t Stan anymore just like he wasn’t Bill anymore. Though it was almost sick how much better he felt now. His eye was gone. Not just incapacitated, or blinded. No, it was gone. He’d torn out the leftover tissue himself. Ford had severed and cauterized the nerves and blood vessels. It should be disturbing. Violently horrific. But he just felt calm. It was like having slowly deteriorating eyesight for years and then finally putting on glasses. The world shifted right, and became clear again. He’d done Poindexter’s like puzzles to appease him, but on the whole, Stan felt great! The skin around it still ached and the wounds itched, but otherwise, everything was right. He had decided not to tell Ford that. Sixer had too much on his plate already.

Stan tested the unicorn seal periodically through the night. Attempts to create a bubble around himself to keep him dry only made his headache worse and his fingers tingle. Trying to steer the wheel without touching it resulted in it smacking him in the face when he let go. It was holding. He could still heal himself, more an amplified version of his body’s natural healing, but nothing else. He wasn't even able to heal the paper cut Ford had gotten while taking notes.

Stan couldn’t remove it. That was the first thing they had tested. His fingertips got within half and inch and were repelled. Of course, that meant he couldn’t scratch his own neck anymore, but he’d pick himself up a back scratcher when they landed. He could always get Ford to do it, but that was headed back down the road with a large yellow “Dead End” sign.      

When the storm hadn’t let up at 7 a.m., he knew the crack had been much large then they saw. What else had come through? What caused it? Had it happened elsewhere? Stan could swear he’d seen a movie like this somewhere. Portals opening up in the middle of the ocean for monsters to come through. But nothing came immediately to mind.

He was soaked everywhere the raincoat didn’t cover. The insulated blanket the only thing keeping him from becoming numb. He slowed the ship to a crawl, checking the satellite connection again, before wandering into the cabin. He shucked his clothes in the engine room to keep the water from tacking everywhere before he went to wake Ford. He stalled in the doorway, acutely aware that he was naked and how uncomfortably familiar this was.

“Ford. I got the boat listing. I’m gonna shower and make food. I’ll bring it up to ya when I get out.” Stan heard a questioning grunt but no other response. He sighed, white knuckled grip on the door frame.

“It’s morning. I’m freezing. I’m showering. You go up and man the boat. I’ll bring food.” Stan risked tossing his pillow at the dark form before backpedaling to the bathroom. A faint, “Alright, I’m up” followed him, but he was already closing the door.

He flipped the shower on as hot as it would go and waited a moment before stepping under the spray. The bathroom didn’t have a separate area for the shower, no shower curtain. Not enough room on the cramped space. If you had to shower, everything was gonna get wet. On the plus side, if you had to take a shit, all you had to do was turn around. They kept the paper in a plastic box and a towel hung on the door out of the spray.

Stan had only a few blessed moments under the hot water before the door swung open and his brother wobbled in, still sluggish from sleep.

“The FUCK, man!” Ford had already snaked a hand out to lower the pressure of the shower so it didn’t reach the toilet.

“I have to pee.”

“Pee off the side of the boat!” But Ford was already undoing his zip and Stan stepped as close to the wall as he could. Jesus, couldn’t it wait ten minutes?

“No. Besides, I’m already done.” Stan didn’t turn around to confirm, but he could hear the sink turn on. The hot feeling in his head was back again. And he was sure he hadn’t said anything. Did he say something? Sixer heard it, so he must have. Or he was projecting his thoughts without realizing it. He was going to have to work on that. Stan squeezed his eye closed, keeping his head down to stop water from running into his empty eye socket. He really should have kept it covered, but any damage would just heal by morning anyway. A hand patted his shoulder before flipping the water pressure back up.

Stan would deny the high-pitched squeak that echoed off the bathroom walls to his (probably) dying day.

*~*~*~*~*

They took turns piloting the ship for the next 12 hours, but neither one was really able to sleep. Stan took the helm and followed the GPS hologram without much complaint, but Ford kept checking and rechecking the signal. He was agitated about something, but Stan wasn't about to try and bait him to explaining what. Just follow the signal and they would be in Puerto Rico by late evening the next day.

That was until they passed under the worst of the lightning.

It seemed to grow stronger the further south they sailed. Ford had made attempts to change their course to go around it, but it seemed to follow them. The sky lit up with a web of light, visible even through the thick rain. It wasn't a matter of if they would be struck, but when.

The bow and stern guide wires for the antenna were secure. Ford wanted to tie the side wires, but Stan wasn't about to let him climb up next to a metal pole in the middle of an electrical storm. That metal plate in Sixer’s head the least of his reasons. The engine was insulated against electrical surges and would be fine. Unfortunately, their engine was all that would be fine. They would lose their GPS, Sonar, water pump and stove, computer and radio connection. Heck, they might even lose power in their phones if it was bad enough. That was the trade off with a fully electric (or in their case, nuclear) engine over sails.    

Stan knew it was going to happen soon. Despite the rain, the air felt tight. His hair stood on end and he swore he could taste metal. Ford had tried everything he could to adjust their course. To signal out. Something. But the storm was interfering with their radio. Stan had caught a snippet of a radio conversation with a passing shipping freighter, but the call kept cutting out, and Ford’s Spanish was rusty. Stan didn’t bother trying to look for it. Even if it was close enough to see, he wasn’t going to through the rain.

Ford pushed out of the cabin, cursing in some alien language Stan wasn't going to take the time to identify. Stan ignored him and checked the GPS hologram again, adjusting for the pull of the current. A tingling sensation clawed down his spine, growing stronger and radiating over his shoulders, scalp and legs. His hands grew slack on the wheel. The metal taste was back, filling his mouth and dripping down his throat.

He heard a scream. Felt the pull of something at his jacket, and he was on the deck, Ford’s arms around his middle. Stan’s arms wrapped around Ford’s head as the bolt struck the antenna. White light blinding them both and ringing filling their ears.  

Nothing to do but ride it out.

*~*

Everything was gone. They could still move, (thank God they had the foresight to insulate their engine), but everything else was gone. Stan once again at the helm with a compass and a map in a plastic folder taped to the window. They had been sailing for almost two days now, but something wasn't right. They should be nearing Puerto Rico but they weren’t. Ford had been searching the horizon with the binoculars and telescope for hours. The storm had let up some, but the rain hadn’t stopped. It was approaching evening on the second day. Ford had triple checked their course but it didn’t add up. Maybe they had missed it? They both agreed to adjust southwest in the hopes that they had just been blown off course by the storm after their GPS went down.

Two hours after sunset, they spotted land. Stan whooped and even Ford let out an elated yell. Another hour and they were ready to dock and get a hotel, or a hostel or fuck anything warm and dry. Ford had their passports ready and waiting to be stamped. Stan, who had a much better grasp on the Spanish Language, collected their paperwork and what was left of their American cash to pay the harbor master a docking fee. The pier was dark, no one around in the late hours. He hopped off the ship as soon as Ford had it tied down and made his way to the main building. He got within ten feet of it when he stopped dead.

The sign on the office read in big, bold letters:

Barranquilla, Colombia.        

-End Chapter 23-

Chapter One

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[theonceoverthinker]

OUAT 1X22 - A Land Without Magic

We are finally here!!!!! I can’t believe I’ve written 90 pages for this Season AND managed to stay on schedule AND get a couple of notes, too! Btw, for my loyal readers, I’m going to do a brief overview of Season 1 in an upcoming post before I get started on Season 2, and I hope you’ll all read!

Okay! No more disclaimers! If I may paraphrase Darkwings Duck’s catchphrase, “Let’s get magical!”

General Thoughts Past I feel bad, but I didn’t have a lot to say about the past events that I didn’t discuss in either my “Both,” “Insights,” “Arcs,” or “Flip My Ship” section. This is a really good segment, but there’s not much of a story to discuss. Charming’s mission to get Snow is a good show of his character and he fights his obstacles valiantly, but there’s not much of a story going on apart from that. Charming doesn’t have to learn anything and mostly serves to be a contrast to Emma in the present, and again, that’s really cool, but again, I discuss that in just a bit where it’s more appropriate, and the same can be said for the excellent dialogue between him and Rumple. So yeah, go read those! Present As I type, I’m trying to decide whether or not I like the moment where Emma believes. On one hand, it almost feels like a leap. However, I think I do. Emma takes Henry’s last words to heart and because he believes in her and she knows what she saw, she believes in him, and that makes her believe too. I think it’s adequate and I’m willing to accept it as shorthand.

I do have one problem with this present segment and it’s Jefferson. I really tried to keep him off to the Insights section where stuff that doesn’t affect my scoring of the episode (It’s not going to have a big impact, but I do have a lot to say), but given the amount of screentime he gets and what he interrupts, I found it unavoidable. Fuck, I forgot that Jefferson appears in the hospital scene, and it’s such a shitty moment. Now, as I said earlier, Regina deserves consequences for her actions, but having her time with Henry as he lays unconscious in a hospital bed is not what should happen. Those consequences should be (And thankfully are) given by Henry, Emma, and the Charmings come Season 2. And why would he expect Regina to pay him back now? I wouldn’t have this problem, but Jefferson was characterized as someone who was intelligent in “Hat Trick” (Mad, but intelligent all the same), and given how he knows Regina and her current frame of mind, why would he expect her to say anything but “fuck off” at this moment? And that projection of not having it in you to kill someone - where does that come from? It’s not like we’ve ever seen Jefferson explicitly say that he’s a pacifist, so why is there so much emphasis on it? Finally, how does Jefferson know what to do with Belle? It would’ve been one thing if we saw them interact or saw Jefferson reference that he knew where she was, but as it stands, it’s weird because there’s no way in hell that Regina would’ve told anyone except MAYBE the Magic Mirror that Belle was even down there. I’m glad Belle gets to appear and the payoff to this ridiculous setup does work, but that doesn’t change the fact that the setup still sucks. I was positively gutted by those quiet moments that passed as Emma and Regina heard about Henry’s passing. The way that everything slowed down and the strings played so mournfully just speaks to the love Emma’s grown for Henry over the course of their time together and the grief she feels in that moment is just so sad. It left me speechless. Additionally, when it came to the goodbye kiss, Jennifer Morrison deserves all of the awards for her performance. You see that perfectly imperfect quivering in her chin and the rapid running of her tears. Finally, I want to give Lana and the writers major props for showing Regina’s grief over both losing Henry (almost) in terms of his death AND her emotionally losing him as a result of the curse breaking. Lana’s breakdown as she tearfully cradles Henry’s pillow (One, or rather I can argue that she kisses it, her own version of the Swan Believer kiss) doesn’t erase her villainy (Note how she smiles at the cloud of magic), but still instills Regina’s love for Henry too.

Both Let’s talk about those kickass Maleficent fights. We get a cool contrast between Emma and David as they fight to get the egg out of and into Mal, respectively. David fights like a classic hero, but more than that, he’s able to pick up strategies and form ideas, showing how seasoned of a fighter he’s become. However, Emma, having never faced such a creature before, uses more basic tactics (Averting the dragon by running and shooting it with a gun). And even her last throw is spontaneous and brutal, making her fight so unique, but also allowing for her to accept this fairytale world in her own way.

Also, all the props in the world to Isham for his composing, So much of the tone of the story here was reinforced with his music and whether it gutted me or gave me goosebumps, I was blown away. There were great choices to deliver the optimal feelings from the swells to the choice of what instruments should take over and when. Insights -Ok! I actually like Graham in this scene! His actions make sense and he was pretty intelligent! My one nitpick is that giving up his heart (His words, not mine) is a bit of a stretch. -I know that I’m watching a fight between Rumple and Charming, but all I’m getting are proto Golden Hook feels. Hey, someone had to inspire him to learn how to use a sword! XD -Not gonna lie, that “it’s her son” line does not fit you well, Rumple. Look, I get it. Regina royally screwed up with Henry and I think by now, you all know that I love Emma. But I love Regina too, and while there should definitely be consequences in regards to what she did as far as Henry goes, it shouldn’t erase her role as a parent. -Also, I like the allusion to Belle during Rumple and Charming’s scene in the flashback. We both get to see how Rumple’s perception of Belle and their love (And love in general - compare “a flicker of light in the darkness” with “love has killed more than any disease”) has changed since “Skin Deep” and we get to allude to her return. -I like how Emma doesn’t just kiss Henry here. She seems to mull it over and to me, that seems like if she kisses him, it’s saying goodbye, and since there’s still a chance, she’s not going to say goodbye just yet. -The conversation about breaking the curse between August and Emma was really good because it served more as a general pep talk. -Regina, just tell her, “she’s a dragon!” It’s not hard and it’s probably better that Emma knows ahead of time! -Maleficent, that candle trick was just so freakin’ cool! -Nice foreshadowing, Mary Margaret! -Also, I may have complaints about Jefferson’s appearance in this episode, but I have no complaints with his...appearance. He could be my nurse any day the way he wears those cute scrubs. -If there was ever an episode that positively sold me on the idea that Rumple was always supposed to be caught between being good and evil, it was here. Whether Rumple knew or not that the curse was about to be broken (And given his reaction to the return of Belle’s memory, one can reasonably argue that he didn’t), that act of stealing Henry’s last chance from Emma and Regina was just plain evil! -Props to everyone’s acting. All of the little snippets of people remembering and reflecting that in all of 1-2 seconds of screen time is just fantastic! -The way Rumple looks like he’s going to sprinkle the magic from the bottle only to just drop the whole thing in is funny as hell! Arcs Emma’s journey of belief - What I like about Emma’s journey is that this journey never quite ends, but there are clear milestones that she reaches. In Season 1, it’s an ability to believe two things (1) in magic (2) in Henry. And it was done so well. While I got a little lazy bringing this point up in my Arcs sections in the latter half, there were few episodes that didn’t affect this arc. And I think what made the arc better was that we got to see Emma have moments of failure where she herself lost belief. When moments like that happen, it makes an arc all the more dynamic. Anyway, back to the episode at hand! Emma’s reactions to the curse being real - though they’re smaller in order for the episode to keep its actiony pacing - are all distinct and just great! Snow and Charming and MM and David finding each other - This episode does something so lovely. All season, I’ve been talking about how Snow and Charming and Mary Margaret and David are physically apart/together and emotionally together/apart in comparison to their counterpart, and this time, the story brings both sets of them physically together, both through the story of the past and present. While Snow and Charming coming together was a foregone conclusion, MM and David weren’t as easy to peg down. So, just as Snow and Charming are coming together, David and MM are on the cusp of being torn apart physically after having already been torn apart emotionally. Favorite Dynamic Emma and Regina - They are just explosive here and it is amazing! That first scene together is just brutal with the shoving and screaming and voice breaking, and it comes from this place of gut punching sadness. You see the struggle that these two women have had with each other and while they’ve put it aside at moments, it’s never been after something like that. Remember how a few episodes back, I talked about Rumple and Gold working together, but all the while being snippy towards each other? Well now, we have that but with an added venom twenty-two episodes in the making. There’s this balance of trust, but a lack of trust at the same time, and it gives way to mistakes and weaknesses for both of them. And despite their differences, they still grieve for Henry in the same way and respect how each other does it (With a stunning contrast to the Swan Believer kiss for Regina in Henry’s bedroom), giving us both a sense of where the story might go for Regina as well as reminding the audience that she’s his mother too. Writer I don’t know how people can say A&E are bad writers when episodes like this exist. A&E are overambitious, but when it comes to telling a singular story, they’re quite competent, for the most part! This episode’s writing really builds the sense of urgency that it needs to tell its story. Furthermore, apart from Jefferson, every character was given an amazing moment to capitalize on just what makes them so great, whether it be Charming fighting a dragon, Emma’s kiss on Henry’s head, Mary Margaret’s post-engagement promise, Regina’s scene in Henry’s bedroom and subsequent smile when magic returns, Rumple holding Belle and then bringing magic back, or August’s final speech to Emma. Rating 10/10. You see? Jefferson didn’t hurt my score too much at all! What a wonderful episode! We were provided amazing closure to the season and all major arcs, got to see every major character have a shining moment, and every emotional note hit just where it needed to. I’m so happy and satisfied with what we got and I had so much fun watching everything coming together! Flip My Ship - The Home of All Things “Shippy Goodness” Dragon Queen - “I knew you couldn’t resist bringing her over.” I didn’t realize before now that Rumple was also a Dragon Queen shipper! Congratulations, Rumple! Welcome to the team! All the same, it’s cute to have your basement dragon wife! Rumbelle - Rumple’s also a Rumbelle fan! “You’re real.” I wonder how many hours did Rumple pretend that Belle was there while in his castle or shop or home. It’s clearly been some. I already discussed how in the past, Rumple’s dialogue to Charming reflects how his perception of Belle has drastically changed, so I’m going to fangirl about the present here. Hearing Rumple’s voice crack as he assures Belle that he’ll protect her is so adorably heartwarming and tearjerking. Look, for as much as I love Rumple, I’m no Rumple woobie, but damnit, I can see how people do because his moments of vulnerability are beautiful. All the applause in the world to Rebert Carlyle. Snowing - Rumple’s also a Snowing fan! Look at him getting his OTP ready for their big moment! And what a moment it was! I found the recut awakening to be just as powerful as the original because of all the the character that Snow and Charming now have! Also, their proposal was just beautiful, as was their resolution afterwards. They were delightfully simple and yet majestic as the music swelled around them! Additionally, when the curse broke, there was this wonderful moment where they were just holding each other and trying to figure out what to say before Snow speaks. It’s only 2-3 seconds long, but it just says so much!

()()()()()()()()()()()()

Thank you so much for reading, whether you’ve been with me since episode 1 or just came here for my grand finale! Writing these reviews takes a ton of time and your likes and comments are always appreciated. I’m going to be doing an overview of Season 1 before I start production on Season 2. This will be a moment for me to reflect on how my perception of aspects of the Season changed over this rewatch, who was the best writer of the season, my top five favorite dynamics, and why I think Season 1 was both as successful and as beloved as it was!

Special thanks to the fine folks at @watchingfairytales again. This is some of the most writing I’ve ever done on this website and it’s all thanks to you! Additionally, getting an expanded platform has been really nice. As a small page, it’s very much appreciated.

Writer Tally for Season 1: A&E (60/70)* Liz Tigelaar (17/20)* David Goodman (41/50)* Jane Espenson (54/60)* Andrew Chambliss and Ian Goldberg (38/40)* Daniel Thomsen (8/10)* Vladimir Kvetko (9/10)* (* = Their work for the season is complete)

Operation Rewatch Archives

[tyrellsimsoficeandfire]

Huge Replies of a Month 🌸

Recently, I only manage to do such a post once a month. To some of you I’ve already replied under the posts or via PM. Hope, I didn’t forget someone.

@treason-and-plot:  I really like the intimacy of this scene 😊

@declarations-of-drama:  Sumptuous! Was the word that came into my head when I see the legs in the bath-tub. Very nicex

Thank you! I found that scene really sexy, too! Jaime is my favourite sim. I love is looks because I modeled him a bit on the actor who portrays him:

Nikolaj Coster-Waldau vs. my Jaime

Hope, you see the resemblance! I’ll release him for Download when I reach 500 followers soon.

@mentally-restless:  rip the real queen of westeros

@dreamywritingdragon:  MY BABIES!!!!!!!! Fuck this show, like, so much :/

@westerosims: thank you for this ive been so annoyed since Sunday's weirdly inaccurate interpretation of highgarden

@owly-sims:  Thanks for this! It's a great tribute to Lady Olenna.

It’s good to be in company of more Olenna fans! I know that at least two of you read all the books. You are book purists as I am. And yes, I did this to show GRRM’s TRUTH!!!!!! The Reach is renowned for its fine knights. They totally fucked that up in the show.

@treason-and-plot: It's such a richly layered world. 😍

Thank you! I try to have some variety for it’d be boring if I would always show the same sets. And I want to portray the different cultures of the series. I google a lot for castles and inspiring locations. This one is just a small corridor built without much effort. Sometimes I re-use sets but in a way, you would not recognize.

@andantezen:  wonderful scene!

@lifeasasim: True!

THANKS! @andantezen    You love classical greece. You must know that one of the pictures was inspired by the Statue Apollo and the Nymphs from Versailles. 😊

@treason-and-plot: It also reminds me of Norman Lindsay's paintings.

I didn’t know his name, but I’ve seen his works before. I totally see the similarities. Sometimes I get inspired by the art of British pre-raphaelite artists. I like the romanticised Middle Ages there.

@danjaley:  This scene has quite a Wagnerian aesthetic! :P

Thank you! The Wagner comparison made me smile. I like that for I understand you find my stuff quite epic. Not a fan of his music but I like how he turned myths into a very own epic saga. And yet, as a German you might understand why I find it a bit problematic. But thanks for your compliment!

@simblu:  SUMPTUOUS pix! I lingered over the details. :)

Thanks! Too much details are my “guilty pleasure” as many of you might know. I can’t even do normal gameplay anymore because I’m so obsessed with detailed scenes. I always imagine people living in these rooms. Real people would have many decorations and many objects laying around. I want to catch such an atmosphere of a vivid place. Also this Throne Room, I have in many versions under different rulers: One with Dragon decor, a neutral one and a version with lions.

@andantezen: I love it now that we can actually enlarge the pictures :)

Wasn’t this possible all the time? But still, a high quality picture loses quality when uploaded.

@treason-and-plot:  I love the contrast between this scene and the last 😊😊

I absolutely need a balance between epic/dramatic and light(funny scenes: I love the dark and action-loaded stuff. But this takes too much time I don’t have. Therefore, when I’m in simming mood I create some jolly stuff. Mostly these are some sex scenes or very unrelevant scenes. So I hope followers will for give me that there was more nudity than serious stuff during the last weeks. I really needed a break (and I was attracted by some sexy male characters I recreated as sims)....

@declarations-of-drama: Didn't get chance to comment on ipad yesterday. Wonderful recreations here! I love the dragon/bat statues looking on. It all looks so grand! 

You told that before: Is commenting impossible from tablets?

The dragon statues were actually a late solution: In the original story, the throne room is decorated with skulls of extinct dragons. I didn’t find such stuff or dinosaur skulls for Sims3. But I think the statues look even better.

@dreamywritingdragon:  Your Jaime has such fancy hair :p And he looks great on that throne :p Great scene!!

Thank you! That’s my young Jaime. It’s such a cliche that in movies, persons always have more fancy/ longer hair when shown in flashbacks. I used tat too! And isn’t he hot on that throne?

@murfeelee:  Why you so perfect? I love this. So much detail; beautiful screenies as always!

THANK YOU, my dear! I’m not perfect at all. But I’m an annoying perfectionist ;-)

@dreamywritingdragon:  MY CHILDREN!!!!!! This is all so beautiful!!! The Princess of Dorne reminds me of Olenna Tyrell, but that must be the clothes :p Oberyn looks like trouble^^ Ashara doesn’t seem happy, and Elia’s dress is so beautiful!!

Actually, the Princess is just an older version of Elia that gained some weight. I didn't even edit the face. And Ashara...I wanted an expression that shows that KL will be a dangerous place as Oberyn suspects, too.

@danjaley:  Aww, I spotted some poses! :)

I have so many poses but I always end up using yours. Looking forward what you come up next!

@andantezen: I love it how you choose poses to convey the difference between the characters' personalities -- it's so clear between the two men, and again between the two ladies. Very nuanced. Always pretty.

For the men, I wanted to show how the princess’ brother is not amused about the royal match. But I didn’t intend tension between the young ladies. It was like a mistake. The poses I used on the one in purple actually were neutral ones. Maybe her facial features made them look different? But it doesn’t matter. In the books, that lady becomes a lady-in-waiting after her princess weds the crown prince. She is admired at court and that may be dangerous. Her expressions might be foreshadowing.

@simsos:  Beutiful photos and environment!The story of Elia and Rheagar is very tragical.Regards!

Thank you! And welcome to the community. Nice to see another GOT-inspired simmer from Europe!

@treason-and-plot:  😮where is the snoring coming from?

Apparently, from the blue parrot. I didn’t notice until you pointed out.

 @mentally-restless:  elia!!!!! i really want to know more about her! lovely scene as always :)

I think, we’ve discussed her a lot. Let’s go on whenever we want.

@andantezen:  I wish I were an insect to get closer :)

Oh, you aren’t the only one who wants that. Just getting really close... Hope, others are ok as well if I’ll do more gay scenes with them There isn’t much plot with them I could tell.

@lifeasasim:  Love the yellow flowers covering them. Artistic :)

@owly-sims:  I love the last picture! Beautiful composition

Thanks! That idea came to my mind while creating. I didn’t really know what I wanted. I needed golden roses but didn’t have. I thought daffodils would do.

@murfeelee:  Yaaaaaas! I totally shipped them. Loras was hilarious, and Renly was awesome, full stop. <3

I love them! The actors were hot. Nothing to add.

@treason-and-plot:  I love the dappled sunlight on the book. Gorgeous!

I never plan those things. They simply happen in Monte Vista. Every world has its own light.

@sabrinastarkmartell:  Yas Dorne makes me so happy

Me, too!!!! But many people don’t like Dorne for the things the show did. Or they don’t even care. And they don’t know Arianne or recognize that Tyene.  

And I found Arianne x Oberyn somehow intriguing! I’m guilty, yes! But I thought of Rhaenyra and Daemon.

@declarations-of-drama:  MMMM!!! The scenery! The mood! This makes me want to sweep my Sims off their feet and go to Egypt, don't know if it's safe though - are they still rioting in Cairo? :/

Well, I think Al-Simhara is safe. But RL Egypt is a dream of mine I may never fulfill. I don’t feel it’s safe going there now. Ancient Egypt was my first passion. I really got into the history and I am some kind of expert. There was plenty of Egyptian CC for sims 2 but almost none for Sims 3.

@declarations-of-drama:  Wow!!! That bathtub scene is so sensual with the way you've posed them! CAn almost feel their bodies touching!! :D

Thanks you like it! This was one of those show sex scenes I did just for fun. The silver-haired guy Viserys is kind of an asshole. But I find him kind of attractive.

@mentally-restless:  Amazing as always 😌😁

@lifeasasim: #TEAMDANY  Btw i love this... and so much depth. 

@i-am-a-lady-damn-it:  Gorgeous!!!

@andantezen:  very beautiful and dramatic and atmospheric!

@treason-and-plot:  Wow that was very intense in all senses of the word. And hugely enjoyable too  ❤

@murfeelee:  Don't do this to meeee~~! That was my favorite chapter. I was so glad when that evil witch heifer wench died. Doing my baby's daddy like that! U_U

THANKS TO ALL OF YOU!!!!! This was by far my favourite scene to do. I love the effects fire creates during night in game. And I finally wanted to use Severinka’s Mongolian huts. They just fitted perfectly for Dothraki!

@declarations-of-drama:  This is wonderful! I can't imagine how long it took to get all of them posed and lined up for that scene. And the baby dragon!!! Makes me want to hug it!!!!  The way she is holding it in the last shot! 😍😍😍

It took quite some time. But the background sims always stayed in the same pose. Just moved them around a bit. The Dragons are actually the Wyverns by Severinka. I placed them on lots of OMSP resizers.

@andantezen: in one word: Lush!

@lifeasasim:  Goodd, look at that room. The details!!!

@declarations-of-drama:  Very cool! The snake shot is very clever

Thank you! That room is one of my favourites. Not the usual medieval style. The people of Dorne are a more oriental culture and I tried to build in their style. They love luxury and lead a life of free love. I liked to put a lot of gold and glitter there. And the snake is there for Oberyn’s nickname is “Red Viper”.

@simblu:  Now to come back and comment..how gorgeous, as always, such lush settings, so true.

Thank you! That bedroom is one of my favourite creations!

@murfeelee:  I shipped these little nutcases so hard, ngl.

You did? I thought no one would be perfect for Joffrey. Margaery would have known how to control him but I don’t think this was a been a perfect match.

@lifeasasim:  Margaery is one smart woman.. ashamed cersei killed her

I’d like to chase Cersei through the streets for this ringing a bell and calling “Shame, Shame, Shame!!!”

@treason-and-plot: I am excited i knew that was Joffrey! Go me! 😁

Who doesn’t know that little cunt? One of the most hateable characters on TV.

@declarations-of-drama: This was so erotic in a twisted way! I love the story here! And the way you captured their expressions aiming the weapon. If she killed something he would probably bend her over that fruit bowl and show her his. . . blade of passion because they seem so aroused in the moment! hahaaction

You get the point! Joffrey is really twisted. He likes violence but he doesn’t dare to touch his future wife Margaery. She plays him. And I had a feeling that stroking the crossbow was as if she touches his cock for him. 

@sabrinastarkmartell:  THANK YOU

You were actually one of the reasons I decided to do this. You brought Tyene back to my mind.

@andantezen:  did they castrate him? :O

Luckily not. They wanted to have a threesome but he came too early. I just found the idea of them using some mysterious drink interesting. Maybe it’s something for his “Manhood”. I didn’t pay attention that there was a skull on the bottle. Maybe they wanted him to be a better lover but that plan didn’t play out. That was just for fun. I’ll get back to more serious scenes.

@declarations-of-drama:  He so reminds me of Prince in these shots!

Yes, a little bit. But I didn’t have him in mind for I don’t have associations with Prince. I just wanted to create a dark southern, handsome lad.

@danjaley:  I guess it wouldn't be Game of Thrones without these kind of scenes - but now I'm looking forward to Jayne being rescued!

@lifeasasim:  Poor girl... :/

Thank you for I didn’t get hate for this one! I really left out the last sentences which implied how Ramsay abuses Reek/Theon and Jeyne. One can only guess what terrible things happened during that night. I believed, showing this one first wouldn’t raise much questions when I do the rescue scene. 

But it’s harder to do than I thought. I want to show the dramatic action when they finally save her...

@murfeelee:  Which is one of the many reasons why Theon will always and forever be on my Piece of Sh!t list

I’m always here to defend Theon. What should he ave done? He’s a victim of Ramsay as Jeyne is. He humiliated him, brutalized him, hurt him, abused him...That man was broken. He wasn’t strong enough to be brave during that night. I thought a lot about it. What if he stabbed Ramsay? Would he save Jeyne? I think, no. With Ramsay dead, they had to escape. But how? Others would have come to punish him for murder. And what would to innocent Jeyne. All that stuff tat happened to them is unspeakable. I can’t imagine such horrors they went through...

This is too long. I need to do replies more often.

[freshbroduce101]

Jeong Dongsu and Kim Namhyung [pd101]

Hey im here to tell you abt my two fave underrated boys in produce 101!

So If you didn’t know already Jeong Dongsu and Kim Namhyung have debuted before as a part of OFFROAD in 2012.

They released 2 music videos when part of OFF ROAD:

1. Bebop (WHICH IS SUCH A beBOP)

2. Headbanging (which ia produced by zico which is why its got kinda a block b vibe. Also, Headbanging was filmed in western Australia(?))

I ALSO LOVE HOW NAMHYUNG SAYS “skinny mini” KILL ME

Heres a link to some of the live stages they had as OFFROAD:

Bebop stages: (1),(2),(3),(4)

Headbanging stages: (1),(2),(3),(4)

They were also on pops of seoul, (1), (2)

OFFROAD didn’t get much attention in Korea so they mainly promoted in Japan and the Philippines.

There was an interview that Jeong Dongsu and Kim Namhyung did on a Japanese program: JD, KN

(btw i do plan on translating the two interviews as a small side project to practice my Japanese)

OK now that we’ve discussed OFFROAD, let’s talk about OHNOBRO, their subunit!

OHNOBRO consists of Jeong Dongsu and Kim Namhyung, thats why theyre so close!

They released one music video while part of OHNOBRO.

They also have an official soudcloud that they post all their music in: CHECK IT OUT

In their soundcloud they post things they’ve done as OHNOBRO and also solos

Namhyung did an MV for his solo  GAGAGAGA(가가가가) (soundcloud ver.)

Dongsu has a solo too but he never made an MV(?)

SOME OF MY FAVES from their soundcloud are: 

One piece, Cover of Mr.Chu, WANNA BOM 

LITERALLY EVERYTHING

Now if you noticed on their soundcloud the name DONO comes up alot. Well, they are also in a group called 420c with their producer friend DONO. He was the one who put together their 1st evalution song “goosebumps”

Unfortunately the full version of goosebumps is no longer on neither AA_official nor DONO’s soundcloud. BUT!! somebody on Youtube compiled all of their live stages into an unofficial “full version” HERE

I LITERALLY WANT TO SCREAM TO THE HEAVENS ABOUT THESE BOYS THAT DESERVE SO MUCH MORE!!! THIS HAS BEEN A PSA ABOUT JEONG DONGSU AND KIM NAMHYUNG

also fun facts:

-Dongsu is an absolute fool for his nephew, his instagram is just pictures of him playing with his nephew (IT IS THE SWEETEST THING EVER) also his dream is to be cool dad in the future.

-This is Namhyung’s insta where hes just bein swaggy, ALSO HE HAS A SOFT PUPPER

-If you notice theyre always wearing matching hoodies that say Addcorn and Arkay, well Addcorn is Namhyung and Arkay is Dongsu. They also wear matching necklaces on produce101 (its black with a long chain) 

I SWEAR TO GOD THEY INVENTED BEING BROS (or soft boyfriends, im not in the shipping business but damn are they so darn close)

NEED EVEN MORE CONTENT?? HERE! TAKE! IT! TAKE A WHOLE CHANNEL

STREAM THEIR PERFORMANCES ON NAVER!! Amazing Kiss & Right Round

STOP SLEEPING ON THEM AND START WAKING UP TO JEONG DONGSU AND KIM NAMHYUNG!!!!!!!!!

Special thanks to @thetreesthatsing for talking to me about Jeong Dongsu and KIm Namhyung and inspiring me to make this master post