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geooricle · 6 months ago

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Making observations about you.

Here's something new:

You said above "for those who actually believe in something." Let's unpack that.

In the previous discussion we had, when o said I believed in nothing you used a common wordplay trick of using a different definition of beleif to try to convince me I did have beleifs. It was something like "but when you press the app button you believed the app would open." (I'm not checking the exact wording because I wouldnt reread any of your posts if you paid me). But now you've said "actually beleive in something" it's clear you know what "beleifs" do mean in this context and that I dont have them. So why pretend to think I did before?

This is something do say a lot, my Sunday Schiol teacher used the example of believing the light will come on when you press the switch. It didnt work for her, they tore her to shreds, but to be fair, a room full of bored seven year olds will pick holes in any argument just for fun. Creationists do a simlar thing where they call people who don't believe in the creation story "evolutionists" or "people who beleive in evolution". But why do this? What do they gain by it?

The answer is actually really simple; if it's a matter of a beleif vs beleif rather than beleif vs just being a guy who lives in the world, then it puts you on an even footing. It's just my beleifs vs yours, were just haveing a friendly debate, heres my evidence, present yours. Bible vs Atheist Bible, Pope vs Dawkins.

Then you can set up a debate and show how super reasonable you are even when the nasty mean atheist says nasty things. You can say "My beleifs are different to yours but please respect them" two sentences after (to pull a wild examples out of a hat) claiming that Judaism and Islam dont have the same historical root origin in Abraham so that your beleif that Islam is inherently violent and hateful dosnt contrasdit the idea that theres a consistent set of ideas across all of history about what god is like that everybody secretly really knows and they're just pretending not to so they can tell you youre ideas about a cartoon are weird.

Winning the debate is not important, in fact it's better that you loose. The ideal outcome is for people to laugh at and insult you, because you then get to forgive them and turn the other cheek, demonstrating how pious you are and how you're the bigger man.

Becsuse having the debate is the goal, rather than winning the debate, the belief vs beleif conceit really helps because, as you keep saying, since beliefs are unchangeable and constant, unlike our own minds which change, by definition neither side can win. Its immovable object vs immovable object. The rubes just keep coming back with more and more evidence, you can keep it going forever. Then if someone catches on you can make a shocked face and go "are you accusing me of being intellectually dishonest? I followed all the rules!" Even when in an environment with no rules.

Once you recognise the playbook you can know how to defeat it; just say "no".

“At least it's not ferociously attacking God quite as directly as Steven Universe did…”

Not that I’m surprised by this statement, but can you elaborate on this? Kinda intrigued by your thoughts on Steven Universe.

Okie dokie, you’re not the only one who has asked me about this, so I suppose I’ll poke the hornet’s nest. 😅 I haven’t talked about this before because I assumed that everyone who wanted to hear my kinds of opinions on stories wasn’t watching or interested in Steven Universe.

It’s like asking vegetarian if they enjoyed a turkey dinner. The turkey dinner was so obviously not made for vegetarians to enjoy, so why would the vegetarian even bother analyzing the turkey?

But I think if some people are asking me why I think Steven Universe is anti-God (of the Bible) its because maybe they don’t know what the turkey is. Not completely. (Maybe not you, because like you said, you’re not surprised by my comment.) So I’ll explain my thoughts on Steven Universe.

If you’re just following me because you liked some stuff I posted, but didn’t realize that I’m a Bible-believing Christian and don’t want to hear about it, unfollow me now. Because I’m going to talk about some hot button issues here and the trolls will come out.

Steven Universe is really well-done. The jokes are funny, the writing is believable, the characters have great chemistry, great design, the concept is fascinating, the slow build-up and reveal of the plot elements is great. But when you watch the throne room scene in the last episode of Season 5 “Change Your Mind,” it’s alarmingly clear how much the whole show is not just settling for defending and championing the LGBTQ+ worldview—it goes all the way to attacking what Christians believe, on the other side.

Anything that’s pro-LGBTQ+ is doing that by default, but this show goes out of its way to do that.

You have to understand: God created and designed us. Deeper than that; He created and designed romantic relationships, and invented marriage. He didn’t just create love—He is love. So when humans come along and do what we’ve always done since the fall, and say, “I’d rather define what Your thing is and how it works for myself, God,” it’s not only an incredible slap in the face, it’s an attack on God’s actual identity—and it’s destructive for us and the people around us. Like a fish insisting it can breathe oxygen.

But Steven Universe goes beyond that. It knows that the Christian worldview is it’s biggest opposition. It digs right down to the heart of the worldview-battle. LGBTQ+ worldview says, “I should get to love what I want and be who I am, because I’m me. Love is love. (By which I mean, any action or relationship I choose to call love is love, because I’m the one calling it that.)”

Biblical worldview says “No, wait, you shouldn’t base your decisions on you alone; what you want changes day to day, and you’re broken, so you can’t ever be satisfied based on what you want—the Bible says God made you for something, and you rejected that, and it broke you. You’re not how you’re meant to be: even what you want and what you think love is is twisted up and can hurt you and others. But if you submit to God He’ll help you, He’ll fix what’s broken and give you new life by making you how you were supposed to be: He’ll live in you and through you.”

Are we beginning to get the picture?

See, the whole thing with the opposing views between LGBTQ+ and Christian people is as old as time. It’s not a new debate. It’s Satan and Eve in the garden. She says, “This is not how God said things should be,” and Satan says, “Are you sure that’s what He said? He knows if you do this thing, you’ll be like Him. You’ll be god: you’ll get to decide ‘how things should be’ for yourself.”

He lied and said that disobedience would satisfy her. That she knew what her own heart needed better than the God that made it did. That the very act of being imperfect would make her godlike.

And then Steven Universe comes along and says “if every pork chop were perfect, we wouldn’t have hotdogs.”

And has a cast of created being characters who’s imperfections (Garnet’s forbidden “love,” Pearl’s obsession, Amethyst’s insecurity) are supposedly “the best thing about them; what makes them who they are.”

And has a main character who used to be a part of the god-like creator relationship, but used her power to come down to earth and completely change who she is into a fully different person.

And has a godlike Creator character who claims she “doesn’t need” her created beings (just like the God of the Bible) but they all have a little part of their creator in them so she has to repress their imperfections; she holds them all to a standard that’s impossible to reach called “perfection” and punishes them when they don’t meet it even though it hurts them to try; she expects them all to do what they were created by her for; she fixes them when they can’t meet her standard by shining her light through them and making them extensions of their Creator.

And has a main character who argues, fights back, tries to stop her, and is answered with lines that sound surprisingly like what LGBTQ+ people hear when Christians argue with them: “you’re only making things worse; you’re just deceiving yourself; even while you resist it your actual light can’t help shining through,” etc.

White Diamond just wants everything to be perfect. Like her. She just wants her created beings to “be themselves.” But what she means is, be how she created them to be.

And she’s the bad guy. She’s playing God in this show, and Rebecca Sugar is saying, “If God is telling us that can only be happy by being perfect, as He is perfect, and doing what He created us to do, then He’s wrong. Our imperfections are what make us special—unique—individuals—free—and there is nobody who has the right to take that freedom away from us, not even out creator!”

And you know what?

If God were like White Diamond, like Rebecca Sugar believes Him to be, Steven Universe would be right.

But He is NOT.

God is not a dictator who forces us to conform to a standard of perfection and then smashes us when we don’t meet it. He is a King who made us perfect to begin with, and we rejected him, because He allowed us to do that. He knew that true love was love that had to be chosen, and He wanted us to love Him by choice, so he gave us the option. But Rebecca Sugar doesn’t understand—there was never “Choose God or Choose Yourself.” There was only, “Choose God or Choose Nothing.” There was nothing except God. Then He created everything. There is no version of reality where you have something better than God, or even slightly less good but different, to pick. You’re not jumping from one ship into a smaller one, but at least it’s yours—you’re jumping from one ship into a void, and then complaining that there’s no other ship. That’s humans. That’s not God. / White Diamond didn’t make her creations perfect (Amethyst) and she didn’t make them for love. She made them for power. That’s not the God of the Bible.

Even when we did choose to try and love ourselves instead of God, and therefore warped our ability to perfectly love at all, He didn’t smash us. True, everything fell and was cursed, which is exactly what He warned us would happen if we chose it, but it was a natural consequence of breaking ourselves. And then He didn’t leave us that way. He didn’t give up on us. And He certainly didn’t just zap us, snap His fingers, quick-fix it and turn us all into robots who are extensions of Him, who say they love Him but only because it’s His voice puppeting us to say it.

No. He came to us, chose to give up His life at the exact point on the timeline when Romans, masters in the art of slow, humiliating, torturous death, would be the ones to carry out His crucifixion, and saved us Himself. Through the sacrifice of His own life. And even then, we still have a choice. We get to choose to accept that incredible self-sacrifice when we don’t deserve it, and be given new life and a relationship with the Creator who knows us and loves us better than we can love ourselves or receive love from others—OR we can just keep stubbornly insisting that our slavery to the opposite of what God wants is somehow freedom, and our twisted versions of love are genuine, and we’re not broken, and die like that. Die broken creatures who lived their whole lives stomping their feet and screaming “I’m not a creature, I’m a god!”

White Diamond sacrifices nothing, because Rebecca Sugar doesn’t know the God of the Bible. She just knows her idea of Him. She’s never actually gotten to know Him. If she had, she’d learn how silly and twisted her idea is.

Because you know what, yeah, if every pork chop were perfect, we wouldn’t have hot dogs. But people aren’t pork chops. And hot dogs have flavor (not better than pork chops) but they are awful for you.

Christians aren’t perfect cuts of meat with no individuality or flavor. Just because we all know and love the same God doesn’t mean we have no personalities. It just means we don’t think so freaking much about what we are, or who we get to be, or what we like and want. Jeez, what a self-centered, narcissistic, self-obsessed way to live. She plays Steven like he’s this wonder-child, innocent and full of heart, who encourages his friends to love and keep trying. But honestly?

This is very pretty animation but it’s not real. Steven looks happy hugging Steven but self-love doesn’t ultimately get you that.

That’s all based on the premise that what he’s encouraging them to do is actually good, and will make them happy, and will help them love better. And it just won’t. Not in real life. That’s not how any of this works. Self-love is just self-obsession. And that is a sure-fire way to hurt you, and everyone around you.

You’ll never be free by choosing to run to a worse master. You’ll never be satisfied with your crappy attempts at loving yourself, because you were made to be loved flawlessly and forever by someone who is Love Himself.

And choosing to identify with your imperfections doesn’t make you uniquely you. It just makes you exactly like every other human being marching in the same line since the Fall.

White Diamond’s not relational. She’s up high and distant. That’s not God. He made you to be in relationship with Him. He loves you, totally and perfectly, and He proved it by sacrificing for You.

So yeah. That’s the problem with Steven Universe. Come get me, SU fans.

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wri0thesley · 4 years ago

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Nat... 👉👈 since requests are open can I please request some Gojo fluff? If you need a little inspo maybe like, reader and him meet after they were abroad for a mission or something? I'm in love with this funky man and I just wanna give him kiths

sweet tooth - gojo x reader, sfw, 2.5k

the early bird catches the worm. or the cake, you guess.

(just a lot of talking about food tbh . . . i dont get to write pure sfw fluff much, thank u for letting me indulge in my jjk brainrot NFJVND. gn reader! )

You know as well as anyone how little free time a jujutsu sorcerer has. You’ve spent most of your past few years rushing around from place to place, calling it a good night’s rest when you manage to fall amongst your coverings before the clock strikes three in the morning. You think this probably has to go double for somebody in such a constant state of being needed as Gojo – but still, he’d shown up outside your room this morning, bright and early, and said; “We’re going out!”

He hadn’t mentioned that you were still clad in pyjamas, your hair still a mess about your face, eyes still sleep and shadowed. You had jumped out of bed at the knock, of course – you’re used to being needed at the drop of a hat – but there is nothing at all in the way Gojo is looking at you to suggest there’s any kind of danger brewing.

He got in last night at the same time as you, after an exorcism had dragged on longer than expected – you know this. So how is his skin still glowing like moonlight, his voice still so bright, his hair still falling over his blindfold in that effortless perfectly-styled-without-being-styled way?

If he’s slept, he’s gotten the same hour and fifteen minutes you’ve gotten.

“Not even a warning?” You sigh, stifling a yawn. “I haven’t had time to clean my weapons or anything--”

“Woah!” Gojo’s grin doesn’t fade, but he holds up his hands as if he’s trying to avoid a savage attack. “Just you and me. No curses, promise. You won’t be needing those.” He cocks his head to the side. “Unless you wanna try and take me. I think you’d lose!”

Your brow furrows. You know you’d lose, and so does he.

“Have you seen the time?” You ask him, instead. You don’t question why or how he’d gotten into the hallway to stand like this outside of the room you’re renting in Tokyo for a while. You’ve learnt after knowing him for a while that what Gojo wants, he gets – besides. If he’d sweet-talked your landlady into letting him in, you couldn’t blame her for falling for his charms.

He sticks his head into your room and turns his face towards the clock on the wall, ticking merrily away, mocking you. You had hoped, after last night, the next time you saw a clock the hour hand would be well past twelve again. He pulls back.

“Now I have.”

“. . . aren’t you tired?”

Gojo shrugs, maddeningly. Half of what he does is irritating to the highest degree – the other half makes your stomach do strange somersaults that you try and push away. Getting a crush on Gojo Satoru is just going to lead to disaster. Although at this point, you have to admit to yourself that it’s more a case of ‘having a crush’ – there’s not much denying it, when he twinkles at you like this.

“You’ve gotten a good hour of beauty sleep,” he chirps. “Not that you need it. Let me take you out!”

You’re still focussing on the compliment, slipped into his words as if it’s as simple as breathing, when he enters your room full-on and is opening your wardrobe.

“H-hey,” you say, weakly. He’s rifling through the rack without a care in the world. “I—I can dress myself--”

“It’s quicker if I do it,” he replies, pulling out one of your favourite shirts. “Here, catch--!” Your reflexes allow you to not make a fool of yourself in front of him. “The colour of that one’s pretty! It’ll look nice on you.”

You’ve had more clothes piled into your arms before you can blink. You guess that Gojo must know his way around clothes – you’ve seen some of the brands and price tags of things he wears – but you can’t help but be a little flabbergasted by just how casual he is about everything. Maybe it’s the fact that your brain is still short-circuiting after being woken up earlier than you were expecting.

He finishes and walks over to you.

“I’ll wait outside.”

“W-what a gentleman,” you manage, and he throws his head back and laughs, and the laugh feels like it lodges warm in your chest. “After waking me up, bursting into my bedroom--”

“I’ll pay for everything,” he promises. He saunters out of your room, pulling the door closed behind him, calling; “I’ll make it up to you, promise!”

You stand there for a few more moments, still struggling to process the whirlwind that is Gojo’s presence in your life – half joking, half serious, half making you think that maybe you stand a chance, when he calls through the door;

“I can’t hear you moving!”

You jump. You wriggle out of your nightwear, your cheeks heating up, as you snap back;

“You said you were going to wait out there, not that you were going to press your ear to it and listen like some kind of stalker--!”

–

You stare in confusion at the fancy window in front of you, decorated with swirling cursive in gold. From outside, you can see into the establishment – the white scrollwork chairs, the cake stands, the menus standing up in their pale white leather covers. The early morning sunlight from outside is reflecting off a perfectly organised display case teeming with tiny little perfectly formed cakes.

“If you were craving something sweet,” you say, eventually, “surely there was an easier way to get it than this.”

Gojo grabs your arm cheerfully, pulling you towards the entrance of the patisserie.

“Well, I got the first sweet thing I was craving,” he ticks it off with his other hand. “But then I had one of my patented brainwaves.” He elbows you. “Put them both together!”

“I’m not feeling very sweet after you interrupted my sleep,” you mumble, but you know that there’s no real bite in your words. You hope Gojo doesn’t notice the reaction that you have – you know he’d never let it go. You often don’t know how to respond to his flirting – he has a reputation, after all, and you are just . . . you.

“We had to get here early, anyway,” he says, as he stands before the counter. The man in the apron and chef hat behind it recognises him immediately, lighting up – you wonder how much money Gojo spends on expensive patisserie. Everyone knows he has a sweet tooth. “They sell out of some of the best stuff well before ten!”

Gojo knows exactly what he’s doing as he points out various desserts from the display case, the man falling over himself to get the – frankly absurd amount of sweets – carefully packaged up for him. You’re not surprised, knowing Gojo, about the cute animal-shaped cakes that he chooses, the smiling bears and cats with ears made of sliced strawberries. You’re a little more surprised by all of the fancier pieces he chooses that you don’t recognise, but you don’t have much time for dwelling on it.

Spoils in hand, you peer further into the establishment to choose a table.

“Nah, don’t worry about that,” Gojo says cheerfully. “We’ll find somewhere outside to sit. It’s such a nice morning!”

You don’t miss the grin he shoots you as he says ‘morning’, the sidelong tip of his head as if he’s waiting to see if you’ll scold him again for interrupting your sleep. You do no such thing, content to be pulled along behind him again as he goes off in search of a place to enjoy his spoils.

People just tend to be pulled along by Gojo’s magnetism, you’ve discovered – and you are, hopelessly, no different.

He finds a quiet bench in a shady corner of one of the local parks; the only other people going past occasional elderly, walking their little dogs. He pats the wooden frame of the bench next to him, smiling.

“You’re not going to make me eat all of this by myself, huh?”

“It’s enough for eight people,” you say, sighing and resigning yourself to your fate as you take the place. He’s lucky you have a sweet tooth too; if he’d brought someone else, they’d probably be shirking back in horror at all the sugar. “You could probably eat it by yourself anyway.”

He pouts.

“I want to share it with you,” he says, cajoling – his fingers hover over one of the smaller cakes, a perfect bite-sized morsel. You try not to think about the elegant lines of his fingers and the power behind them as he plucks it up and offers it to you. “This one’s really good.”

You bring up your hand to take the sweet from him, but he laughs as your fingers bounce away from him, not quite able to get a purchase.

“Let me feed you,” he says to you, and blood rushes to your face all over again.

“I—I can feed myself,” you say, swallowing thickly. Gojo’s smile, on full, sculpted lips, makes butterflies crash into one another in the pit of your stomach.

He brings the treat to your mouth and he’s right, it does look really good. It’s a neat little roll cake, small in Gojo’s fingers, with the green colouring so many sweets you’ve eaten in Japan have been – you hope it’s not matcha, knowing the flavour will surprise you and Gojo will probably laugh, but you open your mouth in defeat and let Gojo pop it in there. His fingers linger a little too long against your lips, his expression fluttering so quickly you don’t quite catch it.

If you didn’t know better . . . you’d say that he had just fought back a blush.

“Is it good?” He asks, and his voice sounds a little strangled. You bite down on the cake, the juice of the strawberries coating your tongue – it is matcha, but the flavour is offset by the sweetness of the vanilla and fruits, and you’re glad about it. You nod enthusiastically, and he laughs.

“I told you!” He taps your cheek. “I know what I’m talking about!”

“You’re so smug,” you tell him, unable to hold back the laughter that’s bubbling out of you. Alright, maybe he woke you up too early and maybe he’s dragged you outside and maybe he’s been haunting your daydreams for months now, but . . . you think he means well. And you can’t deny that the sun is shining and the cakes are really delicious.

“If you were me,” he says, stretching out his arms over the back of the bench, “you would be smug too.” You shake your head at him, but he has a satisfied smile on his face. “Feed me one!”

“Are you going to let me?” You ask. “Or are you just going to bounce it away with your Infinity to make fun of me?”

You hover over the selection yourself, considering what to choose for him. In the end, you go for one of the mini slices of mille crepe cake, reasoning with yourself that even if it’s unusual to be eating so much cake this early, at least crepes are a traditional breakfast. Gojo obediently opens his mouth wider as you lift the slice.

You falter.

“You really want me to feed you?” You ask him, unsure. He laughs, grabbing ahold of your wrist – you almost start as he takes a bite from the treat, his lips tantalisingly close to your fingers. Another bite, and the cake is gone (you’ve never seen slices of mille crepe so small – but then again, judging by the eye-watering amount Gojo paid for his spoils, you’d never be able to afford to buy from a place like that).

“Mm,” he smacks his lips together. “It’s good.”

You swallow, noticing that there’s a smear of the cream between layers at the corner of his mouth. Gojo notices you staring, and quirks his lips into a smirk. “You’re staring,” he says. “I know I’m gorgeous, but--”

“You’ve got . . .” You say, awkward, motioning to his face. Somehow, it feels too intimate to lean forward and dab it away yourself – he’d asked you to feed him, after all. If you did it of your own accord. . .

“Huh? Oh,” He moves one of the arms casually draped over the bench to his face, and you think he is going to wipe it away – but instead, he hooks his thumb under his blindfold, pushing it up casually so the light hits the swirling colours in his eyes.

You’ve seen them before, of course – you’ve seen Gojo at work, after all – but they’re still a surprise, a bright moment of swirling starshine dropped on you when you’re least expecting it. Your stomach does that flip-flop again, the one that you try so hard to ignore – but when he’s looking at you like that, curious and smug all at once, you don’t really know how to handle it.

You’re glad you’re in a secluded spot. There’s nobody to see the embarrassing display of you not quite knowing what to do with yourself.

“You can get it,” he says to you. “I don’t mind.”

“I—”

“Look.” His other hand rises, cups your face, thumb ghosting across the same spot on your cheek that he’d tapped earlier. “I left icing sugar on your face. I’ll get that, and then we’ll be even.”

(Did he do that on purpose, you wonder? You wouldn’t be surprised.)

Your hand is trembling as you reach for the cream. You try and force your fingers to be still as you lean in closer to him, eyes concentrated, as you wipe the little splotch of cream from his mouth. You’re so close you can see galaxies in his eyes, the fan of white lashes, the way that his throat bobs when he swallows as if he’s nervous--

Nervous? Gojo? That can’t be true.

“I got it,” you breathe, though you don’t move. Your faces are so close together. You could lean forward, just a bit, and meet his lips with your own. Gojo’s eyes stay trained on you, not faltering in the least. His thumb is still on your cheek. Your own finger hasn’t moved from the corner of his mouth.

“Wanna know what it tastes like?” Is that a falter, in his voice? You’re stuttering all over the place, but Gojo--

“I’m not gonna put that in my mouth after it’s been on your face,” you tell him, without moving. Your heart is beating ten to the dozen. Gojo’s eyes crinkle at the corners.

“That’s not what I meant,” he says – and he breaks the distance himself, and suddenly he is kissing you. The hand on your cheek cupping your face into his, the other hand going about your waist, holding you tightly against him like he’s been wanting to do it since the moment he woke you up that morning.

(The mille crepe cake is delicious, you find out, from the lingering taste on his lips. Next time you two go there in the early morning rush, Gojo buys two slices.)

#writing #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sfw #please take this from me so i dont have to look at it anymore fnjkbgfnb #this just made me... hungry....#magnolia-penn #jjk writing tag

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babyflossy · 4 years ago

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exposed | p.js

pairing: jisung x reader

requested: i’m working on loads of request atm but when i saw this i had to write it straight away lmao

summary: when dispatch reveals your secret realtionship with jisung to the public, the fans aren’t the only ones surprised.

warnings/genre: unedited, kinda just self-indulgent fluff, lots of words, not much happens

word count: 1.7k

a hand on your shoulder breaks you from your slumber, words already being spoken at you. in your sleepy haze, they floated straight through your head, mind still groggy from being woken up so suddenly. as soon as you recognise the voice as your manager’s, your eyes snap open, meeting equally wide ones over the head of your manager. haemee, your leader, shoots you an apologetic look, something unsettling for so early in the morning.

“what happened?” the words are quiet and tired and your manager sighs in pity, handing over their phone. your eyes squint in response to the brightness, stomach dropping when your eyes finally focus on the news article.

BREAKING; DISPATCH REVEALS UQS’ Y/N AND NCT’S JISUNG ARE DATING.

the title is accompanied by three photos; one of you at a fansign, smiling at a fan, one of jisung waving at a camera in the airport, and then a blurring photo of two figures walking hand in hand through a park at night. the park you and jisung had visited two weeks ago.

“there’s a meeting at the company. can you get ready quickly, please?” despite the ‘scandal’ and the stress your manager was most likely under, she shoots you a comforting smile and ruffles your hair before leaving, phone already ringing.

as soon as you and haemee are left alone you reach for your phone, feeling the bed dip as she sits beside you. she rests a hand on your shoulder, rubbing her fingers down your back soothingly. your lockscreen in full of text messages. you thumb through them, seeing many from jisung, along with the other nct members you were close with. you ignored them all, only searching for the ones from your boyfriend.

jisungie <3: have you seen it yet?

jisungie <3: call me when you see this

jisungie <3: are you okay?

jisungie <3: i know you didn’t want ppl to find out like this

jisungie <3: let me know you’re okay plzzz x

“it’s gonna be fine, you know?” haemee’s hands abandon your shoulder and take your phone out of your grasp, tipping your chin so she can look at you. there’s still a smile on her face and you’re reminded of why she’s the group’s leader instead of anyone else; always able to keep things calm. “think about all the other idols that have dated. i bet the fans were expecting this, anyway.”

that was probably correct, you knew. ever since you and jisung had starred on a dancing show in america together, your social medias were full of edits of the two of you, compilations of your interactions from the vlogs you had filmed. as jisung wasn’t fluent in english you had translated for him and done the speaking whenever you ordered food, giving the fans loads of things to include in their edits.

the show had been fun and you had kept in close contact with jisung after it ended, eventually deciding to start dating after months of pining over each other. since then, only haemee, taeyong and the company knew, although you expected chenle knew as well due to the teasing you got whenever you met jisung outside of your training hours.

when haemee left you to get ready you took your phone back, unlocking it and calling jisung as you flicked through your wardrobe, trying to find your hoodie. the call connected after the first ring, jisung’s voice echoing over the line and into your bedroom.

“are you okay?” although there was high chance you were about to be scolded for days, the worry in jisung made your heart beat just a little faster, a reluctant smile taking over your face.

“i’m fine. what about you?” spotting the lilac hoodie at the end of your closet, you pulled your sleep shirt, jisung’s shirt, over your head, replacing it with the warm softness of the purple material. you followed it with a pair of jeans, slipping a face mask on after realising there would probably be reporters outside the SM building already.

“yeah, i’m fine now. i freaked out at first, though,” he chuckled, shouts coming through from his end. “jaemin came in screaming about how he was so betrayed i didn’t tell him, i had no idea what he was talking about.”

“what’d you think is gonna happen?”

there was a pause before he spoke and you had time to grab your bag, throwing in your headphones and a spare mask along with a pair of sunglasses incase. “i’m not sure, taeyong said he’s hopeful, though. so it might not be that bad. it’s not like the company’s finding out about it, though, so it might just be press and stuff.”

“yeah, i hope so. i’ll see you in fifteen minutes i guess,” before you left the safety of your bedroom, you reached for the bucket hat hanging from the corner of your chair, pulling it over your face to hide your eyes. you looked ridiculous, like you were planning to rob a bank, but you guessed it was better than the alternative; hundreds of photos released of your sleep-deprived, drooping eyes.

no one else in the dorm is awake and you’re able to slip out the front door before haemee catched you again, taking a deep breath before heading outside to the car waiting. as it’s just you and your manager, you’re able to sit in the front seat, something you would normally be ecstatic about but due to circumstance it feels lonely and cold. not a word is spoken until the car reaches the entrance to the SM building, throngs of people with cameras waiting outside the front door.

“we’ll go in the back entrance.” you manager says with a frown, eyeing the reporters with concern. “god, it’s impossible to get any privacy nowadays.”

after security escorts you through the back door, pushing reporters out the way when they got too close, you can finally breath properly. for the most part you ignored their questions, signing the first song that comes to mind in your head to distract yourself. ironically, it’s chewing gum, and you realise with resentment it’s going to be stuck in your head throughout the meeting.

upstairs, taeyong and jisung sit on the opposite side of a glass table, two seats left open for you and your manager. their manager stands and motions for him and your manager to talk privately outside, leaving you with the two boys. you take off your hat as you sit down, pulling you mask down so you can talk properly. jisung’s tired eyes crinkle with a smile when you do, a smile you return eagerly.

for a moment you see taeyong think over what to say in his head, trying to find the right words for the situation. eventually, he settles on what your own leader had already told you. “i’m sure this will be fine,” and as if he realises how cliche his words are, he adds “in the end.”

“in the end? what’s that supposed to mean?” jisung tears his eyes away from you to look at the older boy.

“well, i mean, it’s gonna be a big deal at the start,” he states matter of factly, eyes switching between the two of you. the voice he uses is just as level and calm as the one haemee uses whenever she’s trying to sort something out, it must be a universal thing. “the press and the fans will go crazy for a bit, let alone everyone you didn’t tell.”

the reminder makes you dread going back home, knowing the rest of your members will blow this way out of proportion. you were the youngest, and they always managed to be overdramatic whenever it came to you ‘growing up’ as they had put it so many times. none of them knew you were dating jisung, and you could already picture the gloomy pouts you would get for the next few weeks.

after your managers returned, a few more staff entered, filling the last few seats and closing the door, successfully locking you in. they talked for what felt like hours, only occasionally asking you or jisung a question. they decided the easiest thing would be to just come out and admit it, allowing you and jisung a moment to disagree. you locked eyes for a moment, having a silent conversation between yourselves. you raised you eyebrows in question, taking the minuscule nod he sent your way to be the go-ahead.

“i don’t see why not,” you answered for the both of you, smiling at your manager who nodded in agreement back at you.

you don’t get a chance to say goodbye to jisung properly before you leave the building, the staff ushering you in opposite directions to get your schedules for the day started. in the car on the way back to the dorms you send him a text promising to facetime when you both have time, mentally preparing yourself for the confrontation from your members.

“you’re dating jisung?” is the first thing you hear when the front door opens, closely followed by “why didn’t you tell us?” which is swiftly followed by “i can’t believe you’re the first one to date anyone, it’s not fair.”

“that’s mean.” you smile back at the oldest, laughing at the disbelieving smiles covering their faces. “why are you guys so surprised? you didn’t think i could do it?”

“whatever, but, why didn’t you tell us?”

“in my defense, the company told us not to tell anyone.”

for the next few days, your group’s twitter was hectic. you trended on twitter for nearly a solid day, photos and edits and memes of you and jisung together filling your timeline. there were the negative comments, obviously, from jealous fans of both fandoms, some even claiming you should both be removed from your respective groups. they were easy to ignore when the positive comments and the text messages from your boyfriend outweighed them astronomically.

jisungie <3: as much as i hate to say it.. taeyong was right x

a/n: if you got this far im acc proud of you lmao i rlly dont like this but it's been a kinda mentally exhausting day for me so im gonna post anyway and edit tomorrow x

#park jisung imagines #park jisung x reader #nct imagines #nct x reader #jisung imagines #jisung x reader #nct dream imagines #nct dream x reader #nct idol au #idol!reader #nct #nct dream #park jisung fluff #jisung fluff #nct jisung imagine #jisung #nct fluff #nct dream imagine

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devilmeows · 3 years ago

Note

8. for both

thank you for enabling me kib :]]

8. "So you lied to me."

8. "Go on. Make a wish."

not beta read bc i like living Dangerously

8. “So you lied to me.”

Ari knew a lot of things about her girlfriend. Cadence was smart, she was funny, she always needed 8 hours of sleep to be functional, she was incredibly fast despite her short legs, and most importantly, her birthday was extremely important to her. If there was one good thing that she remembered from her horrible family, it was the birthday parties and the hype around that date. The inkling had once told her that she missed throwing herself big birthday parties: her apartment was far too small to host more than three people at once. And that day, as her girlfriend snored in her arms, Ari had grabbed her phone and created a new groupchat.

Cadence’s big 21.

Naturally, the first messages sent on that chat were memes, because Callie and Spencer always had to have a competition for who would send the best meme in any groupchat they were in. It was a weekly occurrence. They had three separate groupchats together. And now Ari had just added a fourth. I’ve made better decisions in my life, admittedly.

Ari - Please stop this or I will kick you out.

Spencer - :(((((

Callie - ok but one more? :D

Ari - No.

Callie - pweaaaaase?

Marie - say pwease again and i’ll throw my charger at you

Callie - pwease? :3

Callie - I DIDNT THINK YOU’D ACTUALLY DO IT

Spencer - marie is a woman of her word

Spencer - one time she said she’d toss me off a roof and then she did

Marie - lskfjgdfgkd

Marie - please stop bringing that up it was an accident

Ari - Is no one going to pay attention to the name of this groupchat?

Marie - no <3

Marie - jk but yeah cadence’s birthday /is/ coming up

Ari - Yes, it’s on February 12th. Aka next week.

Callie - ARE WE THROWING HER A BIRTHDAY PARTY

Ari - That is indeed what I was thinking of doing.

Callie - NICE

Spencer - NICE

Callie - GET YOUR OWN WORDS SPENCER

Spencer - YOU GET YOUR OWN WORDS

Spencer - i can make the food!!

Ari - Good, I was about to tell you to take care of that.

Marie - where are we having this party? if i recall correctly cadence and spencer’s apartments are too small, and our landlord would kill us if we had a party here

Callie - :eyes:

Marie - ?

Callie - so you admit you’ve been to spencer’s apartment before :eyes:

Callie - STOP THROWING SHIT AT ME

Ari - Pearl and Marina will be out of town for a few days, and they’ll only be back on the 13th. So we can have it at the mansion.

Spencer - WOOOO ITS A MANSION PARTY

Callie - OH HELL YEAH

Callie - can i take care of Decorating :D

Ari - So long as everything isn’t pink, yes you can.

Callie - :(

Ari - You can come to the mansion in the morning and we can set everything up together, and then I’ll go get Cadence.

Spencer - gotcha!

Spencer - whats marie in charge of?

Ari - Anything. I trust her.

Callie - ouch????

Spencer - yeah ouch ari

Marie - :)

----------

“This is a lot of pink.”

“It’s not all pink though!” Callie held up a string of orange fairy lights. “Look, this is orange!” With her other hand, she pointed at the army of balloons lying on the floor. “And those are blue and white!”

“Callie, there is a total of five blue and white balloons for twenty pink balloons in this room.”

The inkling stared at the balloons for a moment, as if she’d only just noticed that. Then she turned back to Ari with a wide smile.

“Oops. Sorry!”

She did not look sorry at all. Ari sighed, then pinched the bridge of her nose. Well, at least it’s not khaki. Cadence hates khaki. Do khaki-coloured balloons even exist? At least the rest of the room looked really nice, despite the overwhelming amount of pink. Granted, Ari wasn’t an expert on what birthday parties were supposed to look like, but in her humble opinion, Callie had done a good job. She had even gotten a giant Great Zapfish cutout that stood in a corner of the room, looking at her with its big goofy smile.

“Anyway,” Callie clapped her hands excitedly. “Wanna help me tie some balloons to the ceiling fan?”

“I would love to, but I have to check on how Spencer and Marie are doing. Just to make sure I don’t have to go to the supermarket before I go pick up Cadence.”

Callie smirked. Ari mirrored her smirk. They nodded, exactly as they had a few hours ago when Marie had innocently decided to help Spencer bake. The octoling left Callie to her work, and trotted down the stairs to the kitchen. She checked her phone: it was 12:31pm. She frowned. Hopefully baking was going okay, because she definitely wouldn’t have enough time to swing by the store before 1pm, the time she was supposed to go get her girlfriend. She pushed the door without looking up from her phone as she checked her texts, but a clanking noise did make her look up. Marie and Spencer were standing a strange distance away from each other, considering that their two bowls were sitting right next to each other on the counter. They also both looked the slightest bit flushed. Ari lifted a single eyebrow.

“We’re baking!” Spencer provided a bit too quickly for it to be natural, waving the whisk she was holding as a greeting. “Right?”

“Right!” Marie supplied helpfully. “Baking...food. Good food.”

“Uh-huh,” Ari pointed to her own nose as she looked at Marie. “You have batter on your nose.”

The white and green inkling quickly brought her hand to her nose, her face turning a darker shade of blue. She threw Spencer an accusatory but lighthearted glare, which made her chuckle, and she turned around to grab a paper towel to wipe it off. Ari walked up to her friend, looked at her bowl, then stared at her. Spencer stared back. She cocked her head to the side, as if asking her why she was staring.

“Useless lesbian.” Were they doing that thing they do in the movies where they flirt by tossing food at each other?

“I- What- You-” the orange inkling sputtered, then pointed at Marie, who still had her back turned. She’s right there! Spencer mouthed.

Ari snorted, then shrugged with a slightly smug smile. “Anyway, how is the baking going?”

“Pretty good! The coxinhas are ready to go in the oven, I’ll put them in later so that they can be warm when Cadence arrives.”

“And the cake is almost done,” Marie continued, now back with no batter on her nose. “It looks and smells amazing. Cadence better like it.”

“If she doesn’t, I’ll eat my spatula.”

“There’s no reason she won’t like it,” Ari said, turning around to look at the oven. Inside it sat a chocolate cake that gave off a decadently delicious smell. “This is her favourite. Is the...the thing already in it?”

“The brigadeiro?” Spencer asked. “Not yet. I’m just finishing up the kibes and then I’ll get to it.”

“Perfect.” I don’t need to go to the supermarket then. “In that case, I’ll leave you two to it, and I’m going to go pick up the birthday girl.”

Ari had never been more happy that she’d made a duplicate of Cadence’s keys: it was freezing cold and there was absolutely no way in hell that she’d wait for her girlfriend outside. She loved her very much, but there was only so much she could take in the name of love. And even in the hallway outside her door, with her scarf, Spencer’s old pilot hat, her two sweaters and her thick winter coat, she was still cold. She couldn’t wait to go back to the warmth of Pearl’s mansion. She took a deep breath, then knocked on the door.

“I’ll be there in a second!” Cadence’s voice echoed from inside her apartment.

There was some rattling, then a crashing sound followed by a loud “Fuck!”, then silence. Ari thought she heard the soft thump of something being tossed on top of a bed, and after some more shuffling, the door finally opened.

How is she allowed to look that cute.

Her girlfriend was wearing a fairly simple outfit: she recognised the pale purple dress Ari had bought for her a while ago, as well as the little paintbrush choker which also happened to be a gift from her. She was also wearing black tights and boots just a shade darker than her dress. And to complete the look, she had slung a long black coat over her shoulders. She looked adorable.

Cadence looked her up and down, and chuckled.

“What?” Ari asked with a little smile.

“You look funny,” she replied, pointing at the hat.

“It’s freezing, I don’t even know how you’re not cold right now.”

The inkling shrugged. “It’s only 16°C, it’s not that cold.” Then she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Ari’s waist. “Here, let me warm you up.”

The octoling smiled as her girlfriend kissed her. She’d never get tired of kissing Cadence. Or hugging her, or cuddling with her, or curling up in her arms as she slept.

“There you go!” Cadence said as they pulled away, face slightly flushed. “Feeling warmer?”

Ari nodded. “Definitely.”

“Alright, let’s go then!” The inkling bounced on her toes as she whirled around to lock her door. “Crêpe time, crêpe time, crêpe time!”

Ari felt something vibrate in her pocket. Making sure that her girlfriend wasn’t looking, she discreetly checked her phone, and smiled as she saw a thumbs-up emoji sent by Spencer. Nice. Let’s do this.

She gasped, which made Cadence jump and almost drop her keys.

“Sorry,” she apologised, “but I just realised that I forgot your gift at home. Do you mind if we stop by the mansion before we get our crêpes?”

“Oh! I thought this was way more serious,” Cadence laughed, her shoulders slumping with relief. “Yeah, no, sure, we can do that!”

“Great.”

Cadence pocketed her keys, then held out her hand and wiggled her fingers. Ari took her girlfriend’s warm hand in her own, and they set off towards the mansion.

Spencer - ari dont come to the kitchen

Callie - yeah dont

Marie - or if you really want to do that, do it later. way later. like 1am later

Ari’s excitement only grew as they neared the mansion. She’d felt her phone vibrate a few more times in her pocket, but hopefully it wasn’t anything important. At least no one had called her, which automatically meant everything was fine. Everything better be fine. The two cephalopods walked up to the large metal gate and Ari pressed the button to ring the bell and warn the other three that they were here. Cadence gave her a puzzled glance.

“Why are you doing that? Aren’t Pearl and Marina...not home?”

The octoling froze, hoping her look of realisation looked convincing enough. Without a word, she shoved her free hand in her pocket and pulled out her keys, which made Cadence laugh. She pointedly avoided her gaze and focused on the lock, feigning embarrassment, then pushed the door. Thankfully, she managed to keep her excited smile off her face. They were so close, there was no way she could fuck this up now.

The smell of cake still hung in the air faintly when they entered the mansion. Ari tensed. Hopefully, Cadence hadn’t noticed. She didn’t dare look at her to check. Instead, she simply pulled her girlfriend towards the stairs.

“Isn’t your room over there?” she asked, hopping up the carpeted stairs.

“It is, but your gift is in that room,” Ari responded, pointing towards said room.

She could feel her heartbeats racing as they stood in front of the door. Her hands felt clammy under her gloves, and slowly, she opened the door.

Instantly, three party poppers went off and a song in a language Ari didn’t understand started playing.

“Surprise!” Spencer, Callie and Marie shouted. “Happy birthday, Cadence!”

Now, Ari could smile. She looked back at her girlfriend, who was just standing there with her mouth hanging open in surprise. She still hadn’t let go of her hand, and her gaze flicked from Spencer, to Callie, to Marie, to the giant Zapfish cutout, to the balloons hanging from the ceiling fan, to the tables of snacks, back to Spencer, then to Callie and Marie again.

“So you lied to me.”

Ari froze. “What?”

Cadence turned to her girlfriend with the most adorable pout on her face. “We’re not getting crêpes?”

Ari opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. On the other side of the room, Spencer exploded with laughter, quickly followed by Callie and Marie.

“That’s what you’re-”

The short inkling cut her off by cupping her face and kissing her very gently. Ari felt herself melt, and when they pulled away - just a bit too soon, in her humble opinion - she felt her hearts fill with joy as she saw her girlfriend’s face. That smile, those shining eyes...I did it. Mission Cadence’s big 21 is a success.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you so much.”

It was only later in the evening that Ari stumbled across the mess that was the kitchen. She simply stood there and stared at the carnage. Then she decided that cleaning up was a problem for future Ari to deal with. Right now, all she wanted was to get some water and get back to cuddling her birthday girlfriend.

8. “Go on. Make a wish.”

They’d never been more scared in his life. It came nowhere near close to when Reef had torn them to pieces, or when the alarms had blared the minute Agent 3 had appeared in front of Octavio. They were terrified, because they knew that if they got caught, they would not live to see another day.

The tunnel was dark, damp and suffocating. Not being able to see anything besides the faint glow of their freckles only exacerbated the loud clamor of the soldiers chasing them - and they were already so horribly sensitive to sound. The noise pricked at their skin and their head, and they had to pick between controlling the tears streaming down their face and stopping the pained whines from coming out their mouth. They chose the latter.

I never should’ve done this. I should’ve waited. I should’ve woken them up. They should’ve come with us. I can’t do this without them.

The person in front of them suddenly halted. She was saying something, but their brain couldn’t seem to process her words. They only tightened their grip on her wrist, which didn’t seem to help since they felt a nervous flick of tentacles against their arm. They tensed. If she didn’t know what to do, if she was as stressed as they were, if she was lost...then they were utterly lost. And to be fair, they couldn’t exactly blame her. They fought the urge to curl up on themself and cry. Was it possible to die from crying too much? Right at this moment, they was perfectly willing to try.

A cracking noise split the air. Before they had time to realise what was going on, they felt their companion shoving them to the side. And this time, they were able to hear her scream.

“Run!”

Their body reacted faster than their mind: running was a simple command, and obeying it was committed to muscle memory by now. Everything around them trembled. Where should they run? They had no idea. All they knew was that they had to run.

Behind them, something crashed to the ground with the loudest crack they’d ever heard. A thunderclap of pain coursed through their body, and this time they couldn’t contain their scream as they fell to their knees, hands clutching their head in a silent plea to make it stop.

And then it stopped.

Now all they could hear was their own laboured breathing.

What...happened?

For a moment, they didn’t dare move. Because maybe if they moved, the world would fall apart again, or they would be crushed by either rocks or a steel-toed heel. But nothing stirred as they gently let go of his head. The air around them was completely, entirely and utterly still. They uncurled themself extremely slowly, both out of wariness and because their body was shaking so violently that they were certain they’d fall back down if they moved too fast. When they were finally sitting up straight, they turned around. The faint glow of their freckles bounced off of a wall of freshly-fallen chunks of rocks.

The tunnel...caved in.

Tentatively, they reached out to touch the stones. They felt freezing to the touch, which sent a harsh shiver down their arm. Horrible, horrible feeling. Don’t know why I did that. They rubbed their arm to try and get rid of the awful sensation. The movement seemed to calm their trembling as well. The purple glow dimmed. And slowly, a feeling of dread and apprehension creeped in their gut.

“...Marina?”

Their voice echoed and bounced off the walls around him. No reply came.

Is she…

They refused to finish the thought. They refused to think about the possibility that the other octoling might be…

But she might as well be. Because there was no way they could get back to her now. their limbs were weakened from all the shaking so they couldn’t even think about lifting a single rock, and they weren't that strong to begin with. No matter what they did, they would not be able to find Marina again. They brought a hand to their face and took a trembling breath as they tried to stop the tears from falling again.

A breeze blew past them, making their tentacles twitch. A...breeze? It was cold, so cold, but it felt fresh, unlike the hot and heavy air of the domes. They turned around. It was still pitch black ahead, which terrified them, but...if the surface was beyond that darkness, maybe they could stress themself enough to make their freckles light the way. And maybe if they got to the surface...maybe then they would be able to feel something other than pain.

They got to their feet, and thankfully their legs did not give up on them. They still felt like they might fall over at any moment, and their muscles were screeching with pain, but at least they could stand. Progress. Now...walking. They took one tentative step. Then another. Then another. Then some more. Then they tripped. They managed to grip the wall next to them and prevent another fall, but they immediately regretted it: the earth was squishy and wet and disgusting. They hated it.

But they continued. They continued to walk. They occasionally tripped, which earned them some scratches. They could feel the blood trickling down their legs, but they couldn’t do anything about it, nor did they care. The more they walked, the colder they felt and the stronger the wind was. They knew they were getting closer. The surface was just beyond their reach. Soon, they would be able to call the domes a distant memory.

Somehow, all they could feel at that thought was dread.

Then, they noticed that the tunnel wasn’t as dark. They had to blink several times to notice the difference, but they noticed it. A rush of anxiety seized their chest. I’m so close, they thought, clenching their fists. I’m so close. I can do this. Soon the ground sloped upwards under their feet, and while the roof closed in on them as they progressed, the air only grew fresher. A small hole came into view. Their heartbeats quickened. They could no longer stand, so instead they crawled, ignoring the loud protesting of their entire body. The hole was now an arm’s length away from them. Slowly, very slowly, they inched closer to it. They stuck one arm out, then the other, and once they were sure that their grip on the outside of the hole was secure, they pulled themself out of the tunnel.

A violent shiver shook their body.

They had made it to the surface.

They stood in a large, grassy valley, dotted with the occasional bush and tree. They were blooming. But they didn’t care. Because above them, an indigo blue sky stretched out. It was huge. It looked like the sky they’d always seen on the domes’ monitors, but at the same time it didn’t look like it at all. They didn’t have the words to describe it, simply because it was beyond anything they’d ever known or imagined. It was...beautiful? Stunning? Breathtaking? Magical?

They fell to their knees.

Above them, the stars twinkled. They remembered that old inkling tradition they’d read in a book one of their sisters had stolen. The one about wishing upon stars. They’d promised each other that they would do that once- if they ever reached the surface.

Go on. Make a wish.

But they couldn’t.

They couldn’t bring themself to make a wish when this was how they had gotten here. Sure, they had escaped the domes, but...they were alone. They’d lost Marina during the escape, and most importantly, their sisters had not come with them. Their beloved sisters, the only octolings they knew they could trust with their life down there. The only people that had ever mattered to them. They were up here, while they were still stuck in hell.

They were completely alone.

I don’t deserve this.

This time, they didn’t try to stop the tears. The endless sky above them grew lighter with the sunrise as they sobbed on the cold, dewy grass.

#splatoon #kell.txt #kibbulation #i got the idea for the angsty one and i immediately started cackling like a disney villain #im more used to writing angst and it Shows

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tunes-on-a-typewriter · 4 years ago

Photo

Cosmopolitan: Chapter 9

(mentions of prostitution)

After they had finished their activities and the sun had risen already, Alex asked Maisie: "Just out of curiosity, what actually made you decide to take up this profession? Maisie smiled pensive. Now that her make-up was almost completely gone and her light brown hair was falling in gentle waves over her shoulders, she looked somewhat innocent. "Oh, ya know, Pa left us, got a new squeeze, I think, and as the bloody oldest of five, I had to look after the others. Ma's not in the best of health, ya know? But me job ain’t the worst. Most of the time I get sugar and spice gentlemen who give me a lil' more than I would actually get. Bobby, there 're the big ones, but when I have jam tarts like you..."

She sighed.

Alex was enchanted. He sensed that his life was taking a turn he had not foreseen. Before, he wouldn't have had the chance to see people like Maisie even from ten yards away, and now she was sitting next to him! He wondered how old she might be. Eighteen? Nineteen? Maybe, but he didn't want to ask her. Sometimes he forgot that he himself only counted twenty years. "What?" she asked when she saw him looking at her dreamily. "Don't you dare fall in love with me. I'm in enough trouble already. Besides, I'm not worth it. I'm just a slag.” "Don't sell yourself short," Alex said. "You're the sweetest thing I've ever seen." "Oh, you're just saying that. You're not as green as I thought ya were."

He didn't say anything, but he was smiling. "What time is it, anyway?" he asked. "A little past seven," she replied after looking at the golden alarm clock beside her. "Well, I should be going. My friend is probably already worried about me. After all, I just left him sitting with that rather unfortunate composer chap last night." "Oh, already?", she asked disappointedly. "Comfort yourself, my girl," he said imperiously. "It's not the last time I'm here."

After he got dressed, he asked, "How much do I owe you?" "How much do you have?" "Thirty bob." "Then give me twenty, will you?" Alex willingly gave her the money. "See you soon, Maisie," he said and wanted to kiss her. "Now, now, no sentimentality," she rebuked him, suddenly all business woman. "You paid and that's it."

And so Alex left her.

The Cosmopolitan was strange in the morning. Dust particles danced in the rising sun shining through the high windows and the chandeliers threw tiny splashes of light in all directions. A curious milky glow covered everything. As he stood on the wide stairs leading to the exit, Alex thought he could still hear the laughter and music of the previous evening, but now everything was empty and deserted. Not even the busy waiters could be seen. A funny feeling, he thought. Everything was quiet, the front door seemed to almost completely shield the sounds of the street. Alex let his gaze wander through the room. Back there was his regular table, where they had been sitting last night. Anger rose in him and outraged, he stepped up the stairs. He would now go and look for Clarence and have a serious talk with him. What was this brute thinking of just dumping him. Him, the great Alexander! He fought tooth and nail against the oppressive feeling that was rising in his chest. A few days ago he had received a telegram from Daniel Gainsborough saying that he would henceforth study English History and Latin at Oxford. This news affected him more than he admitted to himself, for he realised that his old friends were scattered in all directions, and that he was the only one left without a degree and now almost without money, a foppish shadow of his former self. At all costs he wanted to prevent his already crumbling heart from breaking completely, for he did not know what he would do then.

After some searching, he found Clarence leaning against a lantern not far from Cosmopolitan. He seemed to be half asleep, for when Alex took him by the arm, he flinched and shoved his hat down his neck. When he recognised Alex, he made an annoyed face. "You're finally here," he snapped. "I spent half the night hanging around that bloody lamppost." "Was it nice with your new friend?" Alex asked coldly. "Oh, that's why you were so offended! Really, my dear fellow, you are so childish!" "Am I?" Alex replied snooty. "What have you been up to anyway? You were gone all the time!" "Well," Alex said, "I've... made some new acquaintances." Clarence snorted. "Well, you rascal, are you hungry?" Suddenly Alex became quite subdued. "Yes, but I have no more money." "Oh, God, how much did she cost?" "Not because of that, but I need my last shillings or I can't afford to drink tonight." "All right, it's on me. Champagne breakfast?" "Champagne breakfast." "Where's your hat?" Alex shrugged. "I'll look for it tonight." Needless to say, the hat was never seen again.

Sorry, my cockney is far from perfect, but I did my best!

taglist: @alias-levi @hildy-dont-be-hasty @writerlywonders @buster-keaton @rememberedkisses @writingbyjillian @tragediesoftory. If you want to join/leave the taglist, just ask or dm me! :)

#cosmopolitan #my wip #my writing #god i feel so sorry for Alex sometimes #well it’s my problem #inventing such a traumatised character haha

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hey-hamlet · 5 years ago

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BNHA AU Ideas: Child of Fate (Parts 1 and 2)

Also on AO3!

TL;DR:

Chosen by the Fates for his many monumental futures, Izuku is gifted a 'quirk' at the age of 5. The ability to see and influence the strings of fate.

He will become a Hero.

But fate does not smile upon a hero any more than it smiles upon a worm.

basically, the 3 fates from norse myths are still kicking

w all the crazy shit that's gone on since the rise of quirks, fates are constantly getting harder and harder to predict or manipulate so they are kinda out of a job

so they say "fuck it, lets throw our hat in the ring" and decide to pick a "champion" of sorts

out of everyone, there is one child that sticks out a lot. he's plain-looking, but every future he's in is incredible. he's not always a good person, but he always brings about change of some sort, for reasons he believes are good ones

and they look at this child with his shining fate and think "this one"

bc the fates know what it's like to be jerked around by the universe, they ask him

"this is a deal we've done before, but we'll give more to you. trade us an eye and our powers will be yours to wield as your quirk, all we ask is that you live up to your fate"

they do the deal, the 4-year-old izuku gives up the sight of one of his eyes for the power of the fates

the quirk is registered as "all the odds" aka: he can see the odds of a certain thing happening

but that's not his quirk. he can see the strings of fate, follow them to see the different future outcomes, or pull at them, making some options more likely than others

the only person he tells the full details of his quirk to is Katsuki, bc the fates tell him he literally always tells Katsuki in the end, and it'll "save a lot of trouble", not that he knows that

Katsuki is very excited to know he becomes a top hero, but he makes Izuku promise that he won't change his future bc he wants to make it there alone

also, the major downside of izukus quirk? he can't see his own fate

and the futures he sees are only as complete as the information he has

ie, he could witness kamino ward, but the future wouldn't show afo or mini might beyond a vague blob

anyway izuku gets teased for his lame quirk for a bit, then stops bc everyone who teases him gets weirdly bad luck

its the fates, they love their baby champion and he said no killing people

but people who are good to him get good luck, so he's got the nickname cat, for black cat and lucky cat!

anyway, episode one kinda happens normalishhh, but he doesn't ask if he can be a hero, because he's going to be a hero, he doesn't care what anyone says, he will be

but when he sees all mights strings of fact he gets a really weird look at them, because something unnatural is holding one of them above the others. so he asks "who tried to seal your fate?" bc he has no brain to mouth filter

and all might, understandably, is confused by this tiny boy asking him a very very weird question

he doesn't even get a chance to go tiny before izuku does dead pale, and whispers "shit" allmight poofs tiny, izuku looks at him, yells "I WONT SAY ANYTHING" and running jumps off the roof. all might coughs up a lung but the kid was 'lucky' and stuck the landing

basically, w the appearance of the sludge villain, the weird fate he saw for katsuki that morning suddenly made a whole lot more sense

the fates guide him to katsuki as fast as they can, he arrives there just before allmight

anyway izuku is calling out for katsuki and lays eyes on someone in the sludge, he doesnt see who it is, he doesnt see their fate. he sees that flash of a hand reaching out for help and he's already leapt over the barrier

he grabs a bit of rubble from the ground and throws it at the villain's eyes, nails him right in the fucking eye, gets katsuki half out. but the villain is baring down again and its all izuku can do to try to keep katsuki's mouth free

allmight saves them

anyway, when izuku is walking home all might pops out of fucking nowhere and gives izuku a heart attack

"I SAID I WONT TELL ANYONE PLEASE DONT HURT ME MR ALL MIGHT SIR"

"KID NO WAIT"

does the: you are so stupidly heroic, do you want to be a hero?, izuku says: i sure fucking do

“whats ur quirk”

"oh funny that its,,, its a little weird."

"oh?"

"i can,,,, see and influence the strings of fate"

"oH THATS WHY YOU SAID THAT WEIRD THING"

"wait yoU JUST THoUghT I wAs CRAZY?"

",,,,, people say weird things around me ok"

anyway all might basically says "ur crazy, your quirk is cool, take one for all."

and izuku says "OK YEAH"

all might asks a little how izuku was going to get into the hero course and he just pauses

"you know i was wondering about that but the fates told me id be fine." they both pause, staring at each other "wait,,, did they,,," "the fates totally knew huh"

anyway he eye glow when he use the fates quirk

all might sees izuku and he's like,,,, its baby nighteye

he honestly, for a hot minute, thinks nighteye might be izukus dad

bc like; green hair, gold eyes (well, eye), smart, analytic? thats nighteye baby

all might asks lowkey like "oh you don't talk much ab ur dad huh?" and izuku explains he doesn't know the guy. all might mentally tells off nighteye for having a child and ditching the mother

todoroki’s question literally is "are you all might and nighteye's illegitimate love child"

and izuku, who has no filter, blinks and responds with

"who said i was illegitimate"

anyway, back to the training

izuku who has been training to be a hero forever is pretty damn fit for a kid, but hes not one for all fit

anyway katsuki is like "izuku why are u following an old man around is he a pedo, and izuku wheezes like "NO OH MY GOD KASTUKI NO" and he explains like,,, a little of it

"like so i might have a strength quirk now too"

"izuku what the fuck why are you so op"

"im sorry katsuki im just better than you l m a o"

"COME HERE U LITTLE S H I T E"

so a brief overview of his quirk:

he gave an eye to use it so one of his eyes is just like,,, white. the whole thing is white. bc,,, its not really a quirk lmao,,,

anyway: he can view the future as much as he wants, it just takes some time, if he wants to take a quick look he doesn't need to stop paying attention, but its two slow and branching to be used like nighteye's in a fight (think like doctor strange in infinity war)

unlike nighteye, he has a third-person view of the events in question, and has,, some sounds? not many. mostly like breaking shit or oneliners he's heard before

changing the future, however, is more difficult by a long way

viewing the future has no real cost other than the fact he's not paying total attention at the time

changing the future, however, causes pain

nerve pain proportional to the change. little things, like flipping a coin heads? to make it more likely, its like a prick of the finger. to make it a 100% chance its like badly stubbing your toe. to change something big, like to move where a blow hits, feels like your arms have been plunged into burning oil. to change something massive, like, to stop something that was almost certain to happen, can cause enough pain to not only render him unconscious but can cause nerve damage leaving him with chronic pain/numbness/lack of function

the pain is normally in his arms bc its izuku and he break he arm

anyway! bc he was fitter and caught a glimpse of gran yelling at him about something called full cowl in the future + he cleaned the beach faster, he has like 2% full cowl for the entrance exam and had the quirk 2 months beforehand

katsuki avoids izuku for the day literally bc he doesn't want izuku to know if he passed before he did. which,,, is fair. he does explain this too so there isn't any random angst, izuku is just nervous

(oh also he can see the fate of someone he's looking at, he can change the fate of an event he's already seen to a different option he's already seen)

so we get the ochako bit, plus a bit of comedy bc katsuki is in a fucking beanie and sunglasses so izuku doesnt recognise him

he totally does but he doesn't say anything bc he's trying real hard

so izuku is kicking some ass in the exam and the bAMN 0 pointer like a fucking b a s t a r d hes like "what's the chances of this thing just like,,, breaking" and unfortunately they are v e r y low

so he is like "well i guess it's punchy time"

but before he gets there he sees a piece of rubble about to hit ochako. and he sees there isn't a small chance of it crushing her leg, so he changes the odds of that and gets a lovely few seconds of burning pain for his trouble

(he’s,,, pretty used to it by now so the boy has a scary pain tolerance)

bc he doesn't want to break his poor arms he jumps up the sides of the robot and tears out some wiring in the back and they start to fall

and he's like "oh shit the chance of my getting hurt is pretty high huh i should change that too" and ochako saves him with her quirk

and then he has a bit of a horrifying realisation while he's trying not to cry from pain

because

his quirk never changed the actions of other people before. ofa made it stronger

but, as he is now understanding, that hurts like a motherfucker, and his not-eye burns too and boy that's really unpleasant

this is another au where shinsou gets in on rescue points from saving katsukis ass + using him to save someone else

katsuki is a little salty but hes like "yeah tbh i really wouldn't have saved them alone, its fine" and then forces him to meet izuku bc hes still a total quirk nerd

izuku drags them + ochako out for ramen bc hes celebrating. shinsou is like "its a little early to celebrate getting in" and izuku just turns looking a lil confused "no im celebrating surviving the exam"

ok so, first day its wild

izuku's quirk is listed as "lucky punch" aka he can see odds and he's strong and no he doesn't know why stop looking at him like that

izuku and katsuki walked to school together bc they are baby and secretly nervous

izuku doesnt really look at katsuki's future all that often bc he doesn't like it, no real deal w izukus quirk he just wants to be successful by himself. so izuku, who can't look into his own future, has no idea how this day is going to go

they rock up to class, get inside and aizawa shows up, izuku has a brief heart attack, the quirk assessment starts. this time aizawa doesnt even have like a problem w izuku he's just trying to prove a point ab them being little baby heroes and sucking ass and izuku looked nice enough not to be mad about it for the rest of the year

so aizawa erases his quirk which, fair and izuku is confused and trying to use it

both of them

but

erasure didn't touch the fate quirk

so when he turns to look at aizawa he gets a face full of the USJ incident and he goes dead pale. aizawa is a touch confused but continues his whole thing, gives izuku his quirk back. he's still shaking. he throws the ball, it goes,,, less than it could have but far enough to be impressive

izuku stands next to katsuki shaking while they wait for the test to end. shinsou and uraraka are kinda distressed and all 3 of them are angry at aizawa even if they have no idea why. izuku bolts from the field right after and throws up in the bathrooms, followed by a quick panic attack. he was so freaked he was using ofa to get there so now uraraka, katsuki and shinsou are trying to find the boy

and aizawa is faintly confused

shinsou finds him first, shaking and sick in the bathroom. he grabs shinsou by the arm and says "staffroom, now." shinsou, who really doesn't know what's going on but is 100% shook, takes him there. he basically has to half carry izuku there bc he can't support himself

they get there and izuku knocks saying "i need to speak to yagi-san, now." and he sounds so scared and the whole office jumps bc why does a kid know allmights name, and all might jumps bc what happened to his boy

so he rushes out, grabs izuku and hurries him into a private office aizawa gives shinsou a look and shinsou just glares at him lmao bc its his fault izuku is like this. even though,, he's not really sure how

anyway, through sobs, izuku explains what he saw

and all might feels sick bc his boy didn't need to see all of that horrific violence, see his teachers torn to shreds and crushed to bits while the other students watch on helplessly

nezu doesn't know the extent of izukus quirk, mostly just because they didn't think ab telling him. they tell him now

aizawa is brought in to see smallmight trying to comfort his poor shaking student, who looks up and him and flinches and aizawa is like "ok guys the fuck did i do" nezu explains and then aizawa feels like a right dick to be honest, not that it was really anyone's fault

then the horrifying implications of "villains inside UA" sinks in and he's suddenly very on edge. now, izukus quirk isn't 100%. he had such a brief look at the vision he doesn't even know how likely it is. and while he offers to take a better look, its clear he really, really doesn't want to, so they all basically say

"right. so. we should probably be pretty careful tomorrow, huh?"

so when the usj attack starts, they have all might with his full 3 hours, mic, aizawa, and 13, w other heroes on standby, they hope, hope, that this wasn't very likely

but

they were wrong.

they were basically praying that the villains wouldn't make it into the usj

they've already altered the fate izuku saw by bringing allmight from the start, and present mic

but its not enough

the villains arrive and shigiraki is angry from the beginning, two unlisted teachers are waiting for them. shigiraki is childish but he's not stupid. he looks at the only child truly rattled, already protecting his friends, and he thinks he's found the cheater

they may not know the children's quirks, but present mic? 13? they know those quirks very well. mic is warped to the ruin zone, too unstable to freely use his quirk. kurogiri sends bakugo, kirishima and jirou after him

All Might is warped right to the nomu, kurogiri and shigiraki on standby for support. 13 has been taken out, aizawa is fighting through the villains to get to the nomu, to maybe offer some support to all might. he doesn't go after mic. he has to believe mic can handle himself or he'll break down where he stands.

izuku is warped to the shipwreck zone. alone. from a quick look at the future, the fates for anyone warped with him were grizly. he is confident in his choice to stop anyone from warping with him. he's ignoring the steadily climbing number of futures where he alone meets a terrible end

he's missing so much information on the villains every future he sees is hazy at best. all he knows is that if he doesn't get off this boat, aizawa gets hurt and that's not something he can abide

he busts the fuel tanks, letting the flammable liquid float across the water. he drops a match. in the chaos, he uses as much of ofa as he dares to jump to the shore. he steadfastly ignores the smell of burning meat.

he is one the opposite shoreline to canon, approaching the fight from the side, rather than the front. aizawa is hurt, battered from various villains, bleeding sluggishly from a headwound. he looks dazed

4 of shigiraki's fingers are wrapped around his neck

all might is at a standstill. if he strikes against the nomu, shigiraki will put his thumb down. he stands there and takes blow after blow, smile long gone from his face

izuku looks at the strings of Aizawa's fate. so many end here in so many ways.

he pushes his quirk into getting shigiraki away from his teacher. without direction, he's just baring against his quirk, begging it to give him a chance.

it does.

the bright flash of an explosive blonde draws the eyes of kurogiri and shigiraki. he uses the moment of distraction to launch towards his teacher, yanking him from shigiraki's hand. he loses a large chunk of skin for his trouble

all might defeats the nomu, but hes not looking good

bakugo, a limping mic, dazed aizawa, battered all might and bleeding izuku are the last stand, all praying the other students are ok.

iida did not escape

they have no backup coming.

shigiraki is fuming, but kurogiri can see the heroes are flagging. izuku is putting his all into his quirk, trying to give them all a lucky break

for the second time, it comes through

the rest of the students run towards them, joining them shoulder to shoulder. all of them are scared, some are hurt, but none of them are going to lay down and let shigiraki win. the villains escape

izuku falls

damages:

aizawa has a concussion + post-concussion syndrome. he has chronic migraines for the next year, and trouble with his long term memory for a few months

izuku is suffering from massive quirk overuse, his hands don't feel 'right' again for weeks

all might has lost only 20 minutes, but it's time he'd rather have

mic broke an ankle, but it's quickly fixed. Still, it aches from time to time

the other students had mild cuts/bruises and were left shaken

aizawa cries that night. a mix of the head injury, his hurt students, the look of fear he saw in their eyes. he holds mic and he sobs

izuku and his mother had a real relationship breakdown when she tore down his dream, even when izuku got a 'quirk' it never recovered. they don't talk. he doesn't tell her what happened. she doesn't find out.

izuku wanders the city the next day, unwilling to explain why he had no school today. he runs into mic who takes one look at this shaken student, outside and unprotected, and basically kidnaps the guy

izuku is forcibly dragged to the place mic/shinsou/aizawa share

when shinsou and aizawa find out izuku's mother basically just sent him off to school, not taking a day off work? they go full protective mode. shinsou wraps him up in the biggest blanket they own, grabs his own and forces izuku to play videogames with him on the couch. aizawa fumes in the kitchen over a cup of hot chocolate, mic fumes with him honestly

so, izukus kinda a mess, never tells his mother anything, etc, aizawa kidnapped him and he and shinsou played video games. izuku didn't go home that night, he just hopped on a train and rode it until it was time to go to UA

so when they get back everyone is just glad so see izuku alive tbh

so, sports festival! its a lot like canon

izuku doesn't use his fate quirk to change the future, but he does look at the possible futures and he sees that iida never makes it to the podium. he thinks for a second and makes a horrible realisation

the hero killer is in hosu

iida's brother is in hosu

iida’s brother is a hero

just before the event starts he finds aizawa and he's pale already

he gets out 'i need to see allmight' and aizawa gets a horrible feeling because last time this kid was worried they all almost died, so they run to find all might. seeing aizawa run around with a concerned look on his face? the stuff of nightmares at UA. everyone practically dives out of their way

izuku tells all might who swears a blue streak and pulls some strings to get extra heroes in hosu. izuku doesn't breathe a word to iida, because he just can't. not only does iida not know about the fate quirk, he can't scare him like that

bakugo knows something is wrong, but izuku won't breathe a word so he lets it lie

anyway, todoroki does his lil speech and izuku is honestly too burnt out to be intimidated, he sees his own death daily during just casual use of his quirk. boi ain't scared of much. bakugo gets pissy bc "FUCK YOU HALF AND HALF THAT'S MY RIVAL" and basically all of 1A is trying to claim izuku as their rival, either out of admiration or the desire to annoy bakugo

so izuku has to give the speech. which he's not happy ab because p e o p l e

and also because well,,, he's got no one at home to watch him

his speech basically goes along the lines of "we are here to fight fate. the odds are against us but we will win no matter what. not because it's easy, but because we have to. no matter what course we are in, we are all at this school fighting for a better future, for ourselves, our loved ones and the world. it doesn't matter if the odds aren't in your favour - the chance of any of us being here to see this moment is so small it may as well be impossible. its nothing to beat those odds again."

and everyone is like "owo how inspirational" but like anyone who knows him sees,,, layers

aizawa sees the bitterness about the USJ

all might sees izuku reducing his fight to be a hero as a quirk of fate, reducing his own involvement to 'it could have happened to anyone' when thats not true, because he is special

katsuki sees the bitterness that even though he had a good quirk, people tried to grind him into dust because he couldn't talk about it.

if inko was watching, she'd see how badly she betrayed her son

#bnha au #child of fate au #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #aizawa shouta #midoriya #bnha #All Might #Toshinori Yagi #aizawa #eraserhead #Izuku #bakugo #Iida Tenya

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maggotmouth · 5 years ago

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hello, its nora again ( she/her, gmt ) n this is the ethereal but spoiled alma olive putnam (she goes by all 3 names cos she’s pretentious as fuck). ive never used anya taylor joy as her fc before but anya has a smile that looks like she knows something u dont and thats completely alma’s vibe so we’re gonna try it out. she was raised in a farmhouse in vermont, big horse girl energy. very hungry for everything life has to offer. wakes up and smells the success in her blood. luvs the smell of libraries and listening to french music from a tinny record player in knee socks. here is pinterest. bio is below the cut, like this post to be bombarded with plotting messages but i might forget or get shy tho so pls message me x

application template.

ANYA TAYLOR - JOY , CIS-FEMALE , SHE/HER → according to the school records , ALMA OLIVE PUTNAM has been attending sacred heart for the past three years . i last saw them hanging around the sacred heart cathedral ; i think they were studying the stations of the cross with a smile like a well - kept secret. at twenty - one years old , alma has been studying classics and get this , i heard that she has made a fortune on the black market by forging renaissance art to sell to collectors — figure it’s true ? everyone around here always associates them with neck scarves tied around your throat the way they do in french new wave films , running barefoot through the woods drunk on red wine and untapped power , a smile like a locked door that speaks only in riddles . in the time since these strange happenings , they have have encountered any unexplained occurrences . ( written by nora , 24 , she/her , gmt )

aesthetics.

a red beret nestled on top of bright platimum locks, neck scarves tied around your throat the way they do it in french new wave films, running barefoot through the woods in feckless hedonism, china dolls with porcelain faces lined against the walls of your room, the mona lisa smile, knee-socks tugged over the hockey grazes on your knees, a forged botticelli drying on your easel, ophelia floating in the middle of a lake.

proceed w caution, tw for death, drugs, alcohol, violence

the short form. (still long af tbh)

— studying classics cos she thinks it makes her sound smart, but actually hates fuckin latin and just loves learning about feckless hedonism and the festivals of bacchus and writing about how all women in myth are literally forgotten. was expelled from princeton in her first year so her parents basically paid her way into sacred heart and the board really liked her in her interview. i think the governors kind of expect to see her in the supreme court one day or st

— born in vermont in a big old farmhouse. her great-great-grandfather moved to america as an immigrant and worked on a plantation, made his way up cos he could speak a lot of languages and therefore win more people over. for the last two generations, putnam men have owned the farm and do little of the dirty work. big in the meat industry.

— both her parents had large personalities, so alma’s never really been shy around adults, even as a kid she’d speak to them in a forthright, confident manner, and because she was always surrounded by adults, she’s always seemed a bit wise beyond her years.

— very much a consolidation of every character in the secret history. has a morbid longing for the picturesque at all costs. obsessed with w.h. auden and the beat poets. — ”aestheticism is the only thing worth pursuing and even that is pointless” — is majoring in classical civilisation. can read ancient greek and latin. also speaks french.

— studies hard and plays hard. she gets top marks but it’s because academia is literally her life, she loves the smell of libraries, the ancient smoke of learning, of feeling like old wine in a new bottle reincarnated from the bones of some old, dead witchy woman who invented a cure for cowpox or somethin.

— isn’t a foward-planner, however. alma prefers to leave her options open, play the field, live in a spontaneous manner so her study style is mostly cramming a few days before a test, or staying up all night writing an essay on a massive adrenaline boost powered by red bull or probably adderall, scribbling (or typing) furiously into the night.

— pretentious motherfucker. loves poetry, especially the romantics, loves morbid ones too, edgar allen poe, sylvia plath, allen ginsberg, she just loves them all. can’t get enough. her favourite films are like…. wanky artfilm independent european cinema. especially french new wave. “what do you think of goddard’s work??” while snorting a line off someone’s sink at 5am on a school night, but you can bet she’ll make it to that 9am class. — very intelligent and beautiful and knows both of those facts. plays devil’s advocate. humanitarian, vegan. — judgemental but takes great care not to appear so. petty and vindictive

— obsessively devours mystery and thriller novels. she herself is a gillian flynn book waiting to happen. — tries to be an enigma. wants to be mysterious and unreadable because that’s what books have taught her makes women desirable and interesting and cool. very amy dunne in the way she expertly reinvents herself to suit her audience, when she wants to impress

— an incredibly talented dancer. she was accepted to juliard to study ballet, but after an injury to her foot she had to refuse her place, something that she’s incredibly bitter about. she went to princeton instead to study classics for a semester, before being expelled.

— alma comes from a family of high-end art dealers. while her parents paid her way into the school, that was mostly due to previous expulsions, not low intelligence. she’s incredibly intelligent but will only put in effort when she deems the cause worthy. she’s frustrating to teach, because she requires evidence, truth, in order to accept something as worthwhile. she plays devil’s advocate, but academically she’s brilliant.

— she can recognise any renaissance artist just by their brush strokes. her aunt and uncle deal antiques and art, and from an internship with them after her expulsion from princeton, she learned how to market and sell art, how to recognise originals in contrast to fakes. from this, alma began to produce counterfeit art and sell it off as the original work to the contacts she had made in her internship. it’s disloyal, but it’s powerful.

— act like the flower but be the serpent under it. is a user. manipulative. leads people on. will throw another student under the bus to demonstrate her own intelligence and integrity — heavily involved in the theatre society. loves attention. — has an addictive personality. seems unable to do anything in a small dose, she has to let it utterly consume her. with sports, she’s fiercely competitive, runs track, played lacrosse at school, now is a cheerleader probably. with alcohol, it’s never a shot, it’s a whole bottle – wine or whiskey – she’ll be table dancing before the night’s up and making out with someone she’ll regret in the morning.

— her clothing style is like…. vintage thrift store but make it preppy. berets and cute hats, neck scarves, large fluffy cardigans or like those leathery jackets with big suede fringes on them, mini skirts (very 70s), and knee-high socks or boots. quite often she’ll be in sports kit, maybe a cute tennis skirt, n when she’s feeling casual she’ll wear like, a talking heads tshirt with a pair of mom jeans and converse, but otherwise, the library is her catwalk. — relates to ophelia from hamlet and sibyl vane in dorian gray. weirdly obsessed with women who commit suicide. loves jackson pollock paintings and abstract art. – likes old things. old books, old music, old houses, it reminds her of happier times like when she wasn’t alive. buys all her music on vinyl and has a gramophone because “the sound quality is better” kfdsjj.

plots.

here are some generic wanted plots but by all means message me so we can flesh them out more if any strike ur interest:

study buddies !! someone who is equally unprepared and so spends all night in the library with alma before a big deadline, maybe they even met in the library

if they’re from new england or vermont, then cousins . second cousins / extended family / family friends – probably spat volavons on your character once as children, omg childhood friends !

honestly someone who is fully in love with her or crushing on her that she can just break would be sweet :/ or on the other hand someone she unexpectedly gets feelings for and actually wants to guage her own eyeballs out bc of it

frinds !! unlikely friends !! toxic friends !! former best friends separated by sporting or academic rivalries !

hockey / cheer friends who are on other teams but who she absolutely loves playin against!!!

fellow academics who like meeting up to discuss latin and greek ! gimme a secret society bonding by their love of ancient learning

i reckon she’s in a lot of societies, definitely the film club, maybe works as a projectionist at the uni cinema if they have one so give me ppl affiliated with that, give me fellow wanky pretentious art-lovers and poets and historians who will go to museums and galleries with her and listen to the velvet underground on vinyl

people she gets mortally fucked off her tits with at parties

people who think she is throwing her academic potential away by caving to hedonistic impulse

a secret society !!! honestly i would die for a slug club esque thing in which the children of notable families are invited to dinners or alma’s also an art forger, so maybe like a club of students set up to basically forge paintings and documents from the university special collections

people she has drunkenly made out with, hooked up with, or regularly sleeps with casually, maybe even a friend w benefits she is repressing feelings for, i love angst,

people she used to date or unrequitedly likes, but to them it’s just a physical thing, give me all the thirsty angst plots, and maybe some softness too, i need some religion in this girls life, she is a roman catholic after all

full biography.

alma olive putnam.

intro.

the girl is a knife. razor-sharp, double-edged, the bright shine of a two-faced, lovely thing. silver like the secrets you magpie thief from other heads. you’re a scavenger of knowledge, of tidbits, of gossip to lock away for later use and late-night re-inspection. a mind is like a clock if you get to learn the pieces. bit by bit, you dismantle the inner workings of the brains that tick around you – how easy it is to change it’s path, how words and their meanings can make a person laugh or cry in an instant. to have the power to control that is to be a god. it’s the power trip you crave wielding pom-poms in your hands; a possessive need for control that a younger you, small and weak, never had as a child. small lips, smaller smile, a doll clutched in your too-hungry fingers, hard enough to shatter the bones of a real infant. you cut your hair with your mother’s kitchen scissors before the autumn falls, rendering you out of season, unfit for the cold weather that beats against the nape of your neck, where a stick-and-poke marks the star you were born under ; the bull. “mama, when will i be a queen?” as soon as they find a crown small enough not to slip from your head.

biography.

if you get hungry enough, they say, you start eating your own heart. hands red, stained by pomegranate seeds, the empty pulp of its shell splattered on your thighs you find yourself wondering – what would it be like to want? in the beginning, you never knew hunger. twins, born under the same star, you first, him second – a nuclear family. never a sister to compete with, you were always the cherry pie of your parents’ hearts. white-haired, blue-eyed, beautiful baby of mine. the townhouse in vermont and the summer house in lyon, you wanted for nought, showered with attention, saddled with gifts - hardly a wonder you came to rely on such affection as a confirmation of your own worth.

at eight years old you first met death, blood on a gingham-print dress, a smear of it over your cheekbone and the pulp of a mangled animal at your feet murdered by the hands of a stable boy. “alma, my precious baby, you get away from that filth,” your mama would cry from the upstairs balcony – cigar in one hand and a bloody mary in the other – though whether the filth she referred to was the dead pig or the boy with a kernel of corn in his mouth, you never did find out.

your family earned their keeps in farming, great-grandfather wolfgang hildegarde a german immigrant, great-grandmother maura lisbon a prairie girl. they fell hopelessly in love between troughs and pig-shit, working for three dollars a day at a farm their descendants would later own, trade deals with the indians, vacations to calcutta, your father todd putnam in the kind of sheepskin coat his father’s father could only dream of owning. he worked hard so that you’d never have to. your mama once asked – you heard it through the window, rounding cartwheels across the picket-fenced lawn – could he not find a respectable career rather than selling shrink-wrapped pork for a dime a dozen? that blood money had no business raising a child. you look far back enough, edie, your father had said in his low, strong voice that could bring a civil war to silence, and i think you’ll find that all money is blood money.

language was never fickle on your tongue, french dinner time talk by the time you were out of your hush puppy shoes, your mama fixing the au pair a smile as she fixed herself another martini. you learned the clarinet at four and how to dance with the grace of a swansong at six, ethereal under a spotlight, an audience captive in the palm of your hand. by eight you knew that you’d always been destined to be loved. loved so hard they would want to taste you, bite into the soft plump of your cheek and eat you alive. that was how magnetic you wanted to feel. but mother hamsters eat their own young when penned in together too long, and soon you became too wild, too restless, another package on your father’s delivery invoice, box-shipped out to english boarding school.

fitting in had never been something you had to concern yourself with. you were always the shiny new toy the other girls wanted to play with, bright like a dropped coin from a magpie’s beak. wherever you went, you seemed to leave a trail of awe, pig-tailed harriet’s adoring you, imitating you, teachers forgiving your class-time chatter for the sake of your wild heart and the restless spirit you possessed. tell us what it’s like in the states, alma. they’d coo, enamoured by your hollywood drawl. does your father own a gun? you hardly knew. barely even knew the colour of his hair, for the scarce amount of times he’d stoop to kiss your cheek, though you’d tell silver-tongued tales if it’d guaranteed you an audience. when you learned how to smile at the right times, and that flattery would get you everywhere, it soon became apparent that charm would pave the yellow brick road to success even when your lack of drive couldn’t.

the road you followed – gum-snapping, roller-blading, friendship bands all up your arm – eventually led you to sacred heart. bright-eyed and gingham skirted, you’d always known you were more. there was a hunger in you to be something extraordinary, a want so adamant to be imagined and desired that it was almost savage. in leather-bound volumes and a circle of stones, you were helen of troy, the girl for whom they’d launch a thousand ships. but there’s so much rage within you, collecting like sawdust in cavernous parts. hockey helped. there was something grounding about the feeling of a stick clasped in your hands. sweat. stiff knuckles. feet pounding the earth. the smash of wood against flesh in the scram of a game, passed off as mere enthusiasm. “slipped, sorry.” hockey is the one thing you had that was yours alone – a feral instinct that motivates you to play; something primitive within you that sparks an energy like no other. on the pitch, you feel alive. you feel like a god.

#heretics:intro #heretics:ooc #my two most pretentious characters ive ever written n i bring em both here . we love to see it.

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the-witch-and-her-husbands · 5 years ago

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A Lincoln Girl and a Perfect Night

The getaway party.

Dev had barely had time to breathe the sweet air of freedom before he was being bundled into a coat, a hat slapped onto his head, and shoved into the back of a car.

Ladies’ clothing, insult to injury.

Palpable tension was in the air as they sped away into the night, sirens wailing. No one spoke.

After a few moments, they could relax.

‘Aye, ye look good in furs,’ Mick giggled.

‘There are certain things one should not do for one’s country,’ Dev muttered, but he couldn’t help but grin. Relief, sweet relief, was beginning to wash over him. He was a free man again, in the company of his friends and compatriots. The brothers to his cause.

And the woman he loved was in the front seat of the car, turning round and leaning over to laugh at his expense.

Jilomena let out a low wolf whistle of mocking appreciation of his getup. ‘Well, the fur coat may be his auntie’s, but the hat’s mine! Be careful of it!’ she giggled.

‘And what shouldn’t you do for your country? Go on the game?’ Harry jeered.

‘Aye, some men died for Ireland, but Dev, he whored for Ireland!’ Mick threw back his head with a roar of laughter.

‘Oi! I dont want Dev whoring himself out when he’s promised himself to me!’ Jilomena joined in the banter.

‘Mind your language,’ Dev murmured, but there was amusement in his voice. He didn’t normally approve of obscenities, especially from a woman, but he was in too good of a mood to be properly cross with her. How could he stay annoyed on a night like this? He put his head back, taking deep breaths of the sweet night air, trying to calm his racing heart. Freedom. Surely this had to be some mad, impossible dream, and he would soon wake up on his narrow bunk in his claustrophobic cell. Alone. ‘I suppose this does set a historical precedent,’ he mused, a wry grin spreading over his face.

‘I’ll take you home again, Kathleen!’ Mick teased, grabbing him by the arm.

‘No, this Kathleen is coming home with me.’ Jilomena’s voice cut through the raucous laugher, her eyes meeting Dev’s. She smiled at him, a warm smile full of promise.

Mick and Harry let out twin hoots, elbowing Dev in the sides. ‘Looks like you’re on a promise there,’ Harry teased.

‘Aye. I am.’ Dev smiled at his fiancée. He settled into the back seat as best he could as the car sped through the English countryside.

Only once they were on the ferry heading back to Dublin did Dev feel he could let his guard down a little, let go of the nervous tension that had accompanied him all through their nighttime flit. He’d been certain that capture awaited him round every bend, and that he’d be ripped from the others to be thrown back inside to rot.

Without his beloved little Lincoln girl.

Hardly anyone else was on the ferry this time of night. Mick and Harry had disappeared off to raid the car in hopes of finding a forgotten bottle, so that left Dev and Jilomena to their own devices on the deck.

Finally, he could take her into his arms, pull her close to his chest so that they could feel their hearts beat together. The wind on the Irish Sea played with their hair, blowing it around their faces. It was chilly on the water, but not unbearable.

She smiled up at him, snuggling as close as ever she could.

‘Alone at last,’ Dev murmured.

‘Alone at last. Thank the Lord,’ she echoed.

‘No regrets?’ He looked down at the girl in his arms, still hardly daring to believe that she was really his.

‘Not for a single second.’ Her voice was firm and steady.

He let go of her just so he could drop down to one knee before her.

‘Dev? What are you...?’ She blinked at him in confusion.

He took both of her hands in his. ‘I can ask you properly now. Jilomena Festerworth. Will you marry me?’

‘Yes, Dev. I’ll marry you.’ Her eyes were shining with pure happiness.

He stood then, reaching to cup her face in his hands. He then lowered his head to hers to claim her lips in a passionate kiss.

‘We’ll have to get married quickly,’ he mused once they came up for air.

‘Why? I haven’t gotten you in trouble already,’ she teased.

‘No, no.’ He chuckled, a hint of a blush almost staining his cheeks. ‘But I plan to go to America, to take our cause to the American president. He needs to be aware of the plight of the Irish people, one President to another. And it needs to be done sooner rather than later. And of course I want you to come with me.’ He gave her hands a squeeze. ‘So I was going to apply for a special license, and then once we’re married, we’ll set off.’

‘You’d better buy me a ring in the morning, then.’ She raised an eyebrow in way of reply.

Dev laughed, pulling her close. He’d laughed more that evening than he had in literal months. It felt good. Infinite possibility stretched ahead of him. He was President of a new Republic, one that was bound to be recognised officially one day. He also had a beautiful woman by his side, to be his wife and helpmeet for all his future endeavours. No doubt they would have a family by and by, gathered around his table like the shoots of an olive branch. A family growing up in a free Ireland.

They held each other, looking over the railing into the inky blackness of the night.

#drabble #v:A Work In Dev-Elopment #michael collins film

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madokasoratsugu · 6 years ago

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thursday afternoons

[haibara + amuro; platonic (kind of introspective)]

summary: haibara visits poirot, amuro notices her (and wonders why)

a/n: yall ever kick back and realise how amuro and haibara are connected by akemi and her mum. and that they dont even fuckin know. what the heck.

read on ao3

It’s an odd happenstance that began in early May.

Every Thursday afternoon, an elementary school girl with poise of someone ten years older walks into Poirot. Without fail, she’ll take a seat at the table in the middle of the store, and quietly order one glass of iced tea which lasts for the entirety of her stay that consists of nothing but reading a heavy tome pulled from her comically small red backpack.

On Thursdays, the store is always half empty. Needless to say, it’s difficult not to notice her, especially for someone like Amuro.

“Oh, that’s Haibara Ai-chan. One of Conan-kun’s friends.” Azusa-san had chimed in when she caught Amuro staring once. “She doesn’t come here alone often, though.”

Facts that Amuro already knew, but was still polite enough to smile and thank for.

Facts that irk him, with how effortlessly she adopts an unassuming nature.

Any other child, from the Detective Boys to a stranger, Amuro would simply turn a blind eye to.

But this girl sits as if she waits.

It’s a trained posture, one of a figure not quite prey or predator.

A page flips, and still he can tell her ears and eyes are trained on her surroundings instead of her book.

It’s a sort of stance he recognises from hardened black cloaked criminals or too smart bespectacled detectives.

Yet he cannot fit her in either category; in any category he has neatly alphabetised in his head.

She slips between the labels, balancing on the cusp of endangered and dangerous.

Another page flips.

Amuro puts down the next cup of coffee a little too harshly, and smoothly apologises for the ordinary clack of glass against wood.

She’s just a child, he tells himself.

But the nagging gut feeling of something being wrong with the eight year old girl who reads Frankenstein are too loud to ignore.

Honed instincts are vital to any policeman. Juggling three hats filled with timed bombs, Amuro thinks he should know this better than anyone.

The only thing that’s keeping him from walking over and striking an interrogation beautifully fancied as a conversation is another eight year old child by the name of Edogawa Conan.

The spectacular double take the boy had had upon seeing Haibara one day did not go unnoticed by the blond.

Conan had hurried over to her, hissing questions that she calmly answered with a brow raised.

Snippets of their low conversation was enough for Amuro to piece the picture of the Thursday afternoon visits together.

A Science convention coming up, the professor and Subaru-san too busy to watch her - not like she really needed to be watched, but the professor insisted, so where else could she go, Edogawa-kun?

Conan rolls his eyes as Haibara flips another page boredly.

He says something about Poirot being safe he guesses, and Amuro catches his glance from the corner of his eye.

As Conan leaves, he all but barrels Amuro into a corner of the shop, narrowed eyes possessing a glint so sharp Amuro feels not for the first time the tenacity of a man within the child pointed against his throat.

“Watch over her.” He simply says. Raw protectiveness is clearly heard through his calmly spoken words. He knows well enough that Amuro listens in on more than he’s invited to. “And leave her alone. She won’t do anything if you don’t start it first.”

“Why would I pick fights with an elementary school child, Conan-kun?” Amuro asks lightly, smiling at the way Conan easily picks apart his curious question to its bare bones as an investigative statement.

Conan shakes his head, the hard lines on his face easing out into a grin. It sparks with mirth and dare Amuro say, trust.

“Just give her an easy time, Amuro -niisan .”

So Amuro had, and so he would.

Haibara isn’t a child who causes a ruckus, anyway. Azusa-san serves her, and she remains a model child for the rest of the day.

There isn’t a reason for Amuro to be this unnerved.

Yet he is.

So reservedly she holds herself, so delicately she handles the atmosphere, Amuro cannot help but be aware.

In the calm silence of her, Haibara flips a page soundlessly.

She never chooses a seat near the windows.

Amuro thinks it means she has something to hide, someone to hide from. Or maybe she just doesn’t like the sun, the way it bathes one in warmth and gentle light.

She never gets a second serving of tea.

Amuro thinks it means she doesn’t want any attention drawn to her, that she cannot afford more conversation than necessary. Or maybe she just needed a reason to stay, and one glass is all that’s required.

Haibara Ai is a mystery Amuro doesn’t have the clues to solve.

It isn’t for the lack of it, but rather the surplus.

He knows too much of Haibara, but not enough of Ai.

But he catches glimpses.

In the moments when the sunlight catches the tilted sheen of her rosy hair; when she lets slip a smile as she reads; when she angles her face toward the window, soft sadness directed at girls in high school uniforms, at women with dark, flowing hair.

But it all melds into neutrality as she turns back to her book, a trained restraint unseen in other children her age.

Her steadiness intrigues him like Conan’s genius does.

Like a crisp ring of the bell, it appears in instances and echoes.

Even in the thundering of an afternoon downpour, it remains.

Clear and unbroken, unaffected.

Haibara curls a hand around her ear, pushing her hair behind it.

Today it’s a simpler novel, one of the latest releases from the local bookshop.

The minimalist cover gives it away.

For all that Haibara cloaks away about herself, she is terribly open about the smallest potential trip ups.

But Haibara is open in the way that threatens. A well polished blade for anyone she doesn’t like to test how well it may or may not cut.

It works well enough for everyone except Amuro.

For everyone except those that really matters, he might even guess.

And in the coffee shop that’s empty for anyone else bear the two of them, it entices Amuro to see how well Haibara can wield it.

A memory of a trusting smile flickers, and the thought wavers, disappears.

It’d still do well for Azusa-san to hurry back from her delivery, though.

A kettle whistles.

Moments later, the sweet fragrance of steeping coffee beans punctures the drearily lit shop.

Haibara barely startles.

Droplets of water slick down the side of her untouched glass.

Increasing patters of the rain fill the shop, drowns the occupants in the white noise, the growing ocean.

Amuro’s breaths slow just the slightest, to adjust to their faux undersea.

Thunder claps.

Atmosphere rippling, Haibara shifts.

As she does, Amuro thinks he sees saltwater clinging to her hair, the corners of her eyes.

Hands paused in a mid-turn of page, gaze fixed on the empty streets outside, the grey clouds.

Submerged, her lips are parted in a soundless whisper.

Words unheard, unspoken.

Unknowing of what might be spoken of.

Another bout of lighting flashes, and something foreign too flashes across Haibara’s face.

The surge of electricity cuts her rose coloured hair white, and a smile grazes the edges of her lips.

In the resound of the rain, Haibara resides; keeps within her blue eyes.

Sinking deep, deeper still, into the echoes of the rainwater all around.

The tea towel crumples in Amuro’s hand.

Recalls the glassiness of a sea surface in his own mirror.

Then the page is set down, the heaviness of the rain already replaced with blank focus.

Amuro licks his dry lips.

It’s uncanny, still.

But it’s a trait he’s suddenly has lost all interest in prying.

That bittersweet fade in her demeanor akin to a mourning shroud convinces him of so.

Haibara Ai still intrigues him, but Amuro thinks he might be able to let it be just that, for now.

Even Amuro cannot bring himself to drain their self-made oceans just to fulfil his own ego.

Sometimes drowning is more preferable to choking on air, after all.

Polished porcelain clinks gently against the wooden table. He doesn’t apologise for the ordinary sound.

There isn’t a need to be more than he is. Not in front of her.

Haibara’s nose twitches at the whiff of fresh coffee.

She looks up, and Amuro gives a customary smile.

“Today’s chilly. This is on the house.”

Haibara eyes him warily, but she takes the mug between her hands.

Warmth seeps into her little frame, but not a single muscle in her body reflects it.

Such slight shoulders, yet it held the grievances of a world and all it had to offer.

For the first time in all the months she’s visited the establishment, Haibara looks him in the eye and speaks directly to him.

“Thank you.”

Her voice is a steady, quiet thrum.

Mute aching tugs at Amuro’s heart strings.

“You’re welcome.”

He doesn’t have to try for his words to come out genuine, this time.

Clatters of the cafe door draw both their attention.

Their crafted undersea washes out the front door.

As laughter, the scraping of furniture, loud conversations trying to one up each other in volume replaces it, Amuro almost spies what looks like disappointment in Haibara’s stiffened stance

Azusa-san returns just as Amuro finishes seating all of them.

Within the blur of motion, food and coffee, Haibara’s time of departure comes alarmingly quickly.

At six on the dot, she quietly returns her book to her bag.

Taking a folded umbrella out, Haibara unfurls it as she makes her way to the door.

Weaving expertly between the throngs of people, a motion too smooth to have mastered in eight short years.

But her steps are lighter than usual, even a softness to her usual taut gaze.

What was the use of dwelling over someone like her, really?

Why was he so drawn?

Setting a plate of sandwiches down, Amuro finds himself just in time to hold the door for her.

Haibara glances at him as her umbrella snaps open like a new bloom.

“See you next Thursday.” Amuro says, gentle in a way he thought he forgot.

And a silver of a smile she offers back strikes him as - familiar.

Familiar in a way he thought he forgot, amidst blood and antiseptic and alcohol coded names.

Haibara nods.

When she turns, pale hair swinging over her shoulders, Amuro almost expects to see flowing black locks instead.

The door shuts.

Through the condensed glass, Amuro finds it hard to tear his eyes away from her umbrella, still.

Watching her leave, mixed with the gentle cascade of rain, Amuro thinks he might miss these Thursday afternoons, after all.

#detective conan #amuro tooru #furuya rei #haibara ai #miyano shiho #melon writes

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wiener-soldiers · 7 years ago

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hallelujah (i) - steve trevor

summary: Learning how to steal from a young age, you used this skill to help provide for your family. However, after trying to steal a watch from a certain Air Force Pilot/Spy, he comes to with a proposal.

pairing: Steve Trevor x Fem!Reader

words: 2,080 (whoop im back in the +2k zone)

warnings: stealing (dont steal kids), mentions of drinking

taglist: @sebastianstanfoundmymixtape

a/n: it’s been a while, sorry guys. but we finally have an imagine other than marvel! this is gonna be a mini series, im thinking like three parts. i’ll try to have this series finished before school. remember y’all that imagines are open and so is tagging if you wanna be on the tag list!

I heard there was a secret chord that David played and it pleased the Lord.

But you don't really care for music, do you?

Well, it goes like this; the fourth, the fifth, the minor fall, and the major lift.

The baffled king composing: Hallelujah.

You didn't care how dangerous your job was, it was important. Not many people, let alone women, would grow up to become a spy.

However, you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), are different from other women.

Before the war broke out, you and your family immigrated from (Y/H/T) to London. In your hometown, you were quite the scholar, despite you being a girl. You learned a lot about science in school, but you also learned how to steal, fight, and survive in the streets.

That's how Steve Trevor found you. Or rather, you found him.

After immigrating to England, your family sacrificed more than you could've ever imagined. Long story short; promises were broken, money was lost, and the landlord evicted your family from your small apartment. Now, both of your parents and your younger brother Jack lived on the dingy top floor to the three story building that housed a bakery that both your parents worked in on the bottom floor. They didn't bring much loot home, only whatever they were tipped, the nearly stale loafs of bread that weren't sold the past three days, and a couple of fruits if they were lucky. They don't even get paid regularly, but the bakery owner assured your family that you could stay on the third floor of their building as long as they worked.

Believe it or not, that was the most generous anyone has been to your family since you've arrived in London.

So, being the scrappy, deceiving girl you were, you sneaked out during the day while your parents were working and your brother was learning to read from some old books you brought from your old house, and during the night while everyone was asleep to steal whatever you could find.

Like today.

After double checking that your parents were asleep in their small room, you tiptoed to your brother who lays on his cot in your shared room. Snuggled in his cheap, ratty sleeping bag, his head pokes out to look at you as you pull own your long khaki coloured trench coat, thrifted from a thrift shop down the street. Jack was the only person who knows what you do while you sneak out of the house. The first time you brought home goods (a couple of dollars and a pocket watch), your mother had questioned the source. You told her that you were working as a tailor's apprentice.

As you put on a wide brimmed hat to cover your eyes (it was stolen of course), Jack props himself up with his elbows.

"What are you gonna come back with this time?" Jack says with wide, innocent eyes.

You walk closer to him and press a soft kiss on the top of his forehead. You whisper back, "Dunno yet, Jack. I actually got someone's extra change, so maybe I'll get you some more ink so you can practise writing. I might even stop by the pub and flatter some of the lads up and maybe get a few bucks, maybe a watch."

He frowns a bit, "But your coming back, right?"

You smile at him before slipping on some plain black flats, "I always come back, don't I?"

You blow a kiss to Jack one last time before sliding open the window and hopping onto the fire escape. You slide the window shut behind you and you begin to climb down the creaky steps of the fire escape.

After reaching the ground, you head in the direction of the market. During the day, it's filled with vendors selling goods, but at night, it's pub's are filled with people of all ages, very drunk. It's not the safest place for girls, but it was the perfect place to coax a few drinks out of some younger men and pick up some extra cash, or some watches. You walk into your first pub, one of the nicer pubs on the block. The dimly lit pub was filled people of all ages; some seniors having drinks with their friends, couples going on late night dates, and of course, lonely, moping men.

That's how you had met Steve.

He was sitting in a table alone, head hung low while he rolled a glass of whiskey on rocks. Your heart ached for him, as he looked very sad. But you needed the money.

So you approached him.

You slid in the seat in front of him, placing your arms on the table. He doesn't notice you at first, so you decide to speak. "Are you all right?" you ask in a mock British accent. After trial and error, you found that using an accent makes people trust you faster.

The man looks up and you stare in a pair of the bluest eyes you have ever seen. His dirty blonde messily falls on top of his forehead as he moves.

He's very handsome, you note.

The man looks at you, dumbfounded. "Who are you?" he questions.

"Megan Danning. At your service," you blurt out. It was the first fake name that popped into your head.

"Steve, Steve Trevor. What's a pretty dame like you doing in a place like this alone at night?" he inquires while leaning forward.

"Well Mr. Trevor, who ever said I was alone?" you say while smirking slightly. You had silently wished you had applied some of that cheap red lipstick you had stolen from the store on the corner of the block. You rest your hand on top of his and bite your lip. You fiddle with the clasp on the his watch. You manage to unclasp it and you slide it into you coat sleeve without him noticing.

Steve scoffs, but stares you down anyways. "Late night, pretty girl targeting a lonely lad like me, hand on top of mine. You think I'm stupid, but I know what you're doing." He finishes while pulling his hand away from underneath yours. He pulls down his wrist and reveals empty skin where a watch would normally be.

He smirks a little, "My watch please, Megan Danning. But that isn't your name, is it?"

Shit, you think to yourself. No one has caught you before, so you were beyond surprised.

Without warning, you stand up and bolt. Without looking back, you sprint out of the pub. You can't tell if Steve (if that even is his real name) is following or not. Your flats make a little tapping sound as you sprint down the cobblestone streets, trying to avoid cars.

"Hey!" you hear someone call out from behind you. You immediately recognise it as Steve's voice.

Quickly, you slip into the alley closest to you, hoping that he didn't see you. You slightly peak your head from the wall of the alley that your back is pressed on to see Steve standing a few blocks away in the middle of the street. You watch as he cups his hand around his mouth and lets out a scream.

"I'll find you, Megan Danning! I promise you," he finishes, getting strange looks from passersby.

You furrow your eyebrows and watch him turn around and walk back to the pub. Only after he became out of sight, you slip back onto the road and saunter in the shadows until you reach the house. You silently climb the fire escape, slipping the watch into your coat pocket. Once you reach the third floor, you slide the window open and step inside the room. Jack is still wrapped in his sleeping bag in his corner of the room, but this time he is asleep. You place a kiss on top of his head before stripping yourself from your attire before changing into sleepwear and climbing into bed.

You lay wide awake for what seems like hours, still high on adrenaline. Finally, you succumb to your exhaustion and fall asleep.

When morning came around, you found yourself groggy. You sat up on your ratty cot and rubbed the sleep from your eyes.

"Morning (Y/N)," Jack says from the other side of the room. He had put on some trousers and an old blue button up.

"Morning Jacky," you say while rolling out of bed.

"Ma and Pa went down to the bakery already, but the brought up some jam and bread for breakfast." he says before walking out the room, probably to get food.

You find a plain yellow dress made from old fabric. It's the only thing left in your closet so you slip it on along with your flats. You pull your (Y/H/C) in a low ponytail as you walk out of the room into the kitchen.

"I made some toast for you," Jack says.

"Thanks, Jack."

As you munch on the nearly stale bread with the strawberry, Jack finishes his slice and asks, "Did you get anything last night?"

You nearly choke on your bread.

"No, I didn't," you lie. You didn't want your little brother worrying about you.

"That's too bad. Are you going again this afternoon?" The afternoon was usually the time were you would usually go into the market and slip fruits and vegetables into your purse and jacket.

"I don't think so. We still got a little bit of potatoes from yesterday. Besides, I haven't read with in a while."

Jack's mouth goes wide, a smile forming on his face. He leaps up from his seat and hugs you. "That would be nice," he mumbles into you. You laugh at the boy's enthusiasm.

"I'll clean this up, and you go find a book to read." He nods and runs of to the bookshelf in the corner of the room, eyes scanning for a book.

You finish washing up the dishes as Jack already begins to read his book. As you dry the dishes, you hear someone knock on the door. Assuming it's your mother (she makes visits throughout the day) you yell out, "Coming Ma! Just finishing up the dishes." Instead of a reply, the person at the door knocks again.

You sigh but walk to the door anyways and open it. "Sorry Ma, if you were in a rush. I was ju--"

"Hello."

Your eyes widen in utter shock and your jaw drops.

It was Steve.

Steve Trevor.

"(Y/N)? Who's at the door?" you hear Jack say from behind.

Steve smiles a little, "So your name is (Y/N), huh?"

You push him into the hallway and call out, "Jack, stay inside."

You slam the door shut and spin to face Steve. "How do you know where I live? Did you follow me home? If you like your watch so much, I'll give it back to you. Just, don't hurt my brother."

Steve furrows his eyebrows and shakes his head rapidly, "No, no! You got it all wrong. I'm not here to hurt anyone! You can keep the watch, you probably need it more than I do." he says while gesturing to you.

You scoff, "Excuse me?! What's that supposed to mean?!"

His eyes widen, "Nothing! That's not the point. The point is, I have a proposal."

"I don't care about your damn proposal! Is your name really Steve Trevor? How do you know where I live!?"

"Listen, I'm Captain Steve Trevor of the United States Air Force."

"Then what are you doing in London? I don't know if you've noticed, but a war is about to break out."

"That's why I'm here. They sent me here as a spy for the British, that's how I found out where you lived. They needed all the help they could get."

"So?!" you screech. "That doesn't explain why you're at my house."

"Like I said, they need all the help they can get. That's where you come in."

"Huh?"

"You're really skilled. You almost sneaked away with my watch last night without me noticing. We could really use someone like you, they'd never see it coming."

You cross your arms, "What's in it for me?"

"Security for your family when the war breaks out, a stable job and income, serving your country, y'know, the whole nine yards."

"One request, though."

"Huh?"

"I have one request, and I'll do it."

"Your not really in the position to request anythi--"

"Put my brother in school. Not a bad one, a private one. He deserves an education."

Steve inhales deeply, "I'll see what I can do."

You smile a little, "Great."

Steve smiles slightly and sticks his hand out to shake, "Let's try that introduction again. Steve Trevor."

You smile back and shake his hand, "(Y/N) (Y/L/N). Nice to meet you."

That's when it all began.

663 notes · View notes

dndfuckhouse · 4 years ago

Text

session 29 - High Tension Situations

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> 🎵 Rogue Encampment / Diablo 2 OST

Cracking open the entrance again as they were taught by Ezra, the group all head down into the cave system remembering the codes and the traps, Keva taking point. They eventually make their way back through the underground, reaching the large dark humid cove again.

Peering about as they come down they see a lot of boats on the waters strangely, as well as lights peeking through windows scattered about the buildings in the dark. Heading into the area proper there looks to be plenty of hustle and bustle down here as well strangely enough. Cloaked and shadowed individuals and groups are walking about quickly and some places look even more boarded up, or are in the process of becoming so. This is probably the loudest they’ve ever heard the place, sounds of hushed muttering and arguments being heard echoing around all the buildings and carved roads.

Finn and Han take their time peering around, it seems as if the people here are emptying out or holing up inside places as quickly as they can. Listening in as they walk by they get whispers from people gossiping about the business upstairs with the lockdown, every now and again hearing words about corpses. They also hear some whispering about disguised royal guards being spotted down in the area earlier. The rest of the party doesn't seem to take as much notice however, simply noting the place looks busy.

Han: "seems like that lockdown is affecting here too... and there could be guard around" Plum: im not worried about no cops Rokka: rokka huddles a little closer to whoever is next to him

Psalm: jesus

Finn: psalm be like sorry im granblueing rn Plum: he has his phone out Psalm: OH FUCK I MISSED STRIKE TIME AGAIN

Rokka waltzes around in his Chris RokksworthTM disguise while Finn keeps his heavy daytime garb on in the cove, the others dont bother too much with disguising themselves aside from pulling up their hoods.

The party decide to head over to Renny’s, noting it as the last place they saw Cole and Ezra. They all walk down and around to the centre area of the cove, making their way back to the same dingy looking building and cramped alleyway. They manage to find the right road before getting too lost, recognising the familiar heavy wood door indicating the front of Renny’s inn.

As they enter the area they note that it doesn't look too busy around here, on the way notice a couple heated conversations and busy buildings, but nothing sticks out in particular.

Sidling up the door, the group give it a good knock, it takes a minute or so before they hear any sound behind it indicating that anyone’s even around. After some shuffling the thin slit in the door slides open and a familiar pair of eyes peer back at the party. It roves over the group for a moment, Han bending over and waving in response. It soon slides back shut and the party stand around listening to a series of unlocking sounds.

Finally the door swings open and there they see Renny, once again holding a pipe in one hand, as she moves to lean against the door frame.

Renny: “ol’ friends of ezra’s in need somewhere to hide out again? seems like you’ve got someone new with you though” she breathes out a wisp of smoke as she levels a long stare at finn Rokka: "Hello again!" Renny: "....hello again darlin" Han: "we're looking for him. you happen to know where he went?" Keva: "a direction would be good" Finn: he stares back, unsure what to say to this lady or if its even important for her to know who he is. Renny: "I haven’t seen the guy since he left the place with that tiefling girl after the other one, if I didn’t know him id worry he was skipping out on his tab” she snorts, but keeps staring at finn expectantly

Cimmorro: slaps finn's back like "pst introduce yourself" Plum: im going to swat finn and tell him to say covertly Rokka: nudges finn Finn: he feels more than uncomfortable. he doesn't need to make it known the barvottes crawl around places like this. switching a few times between looking at cimmorro and rokka before looking at renny. "i am called finnian." he then looks away and pulls his hat down more. Keva: cowboy tilt your hat finn Finn: vargonia culture Renny: she turns as u respond "nice to meet you there finnian, names renny, bit of common courtesy's appreciated" Finn: he nods back, acknowledging the acknowledgement before peeking at renny from underneath the snufkin hat. "my apologies" Renny: she smirks at you Finn: this milf... her aura is overwhelming, finn looks at cimm if he did it right. Cimmorro: cimm looks at u with a nod of acknowledgement Finn: i feel like turning to cimm for social advice is awful Cimmorro: OIJGIAOPJGWOPIAJGIAJIWG I HATE YOUG

Keva: she mumbles "why did...." then louder as she watches the others nudge at finn "...do you know which direction they were headed?" Han: "and did they say anything as they left?" Psalm: "I think we should just cut to the chase about why we're looking for them no? We have good enough reason to believe that they're in danger." Rokka: "and we came to save them!" Renny: "danger huh.... seems to be the trend around here. not really, think he went after that other friend of yours you popped in with. i’m no one to pry into what my patrons get up unless it’s going to disturb others or myself, understand me?” she takes another puff of her pipe and turns her head at you rokka "nice of you" Keva: "other friend?" Renny: “white haired fellow”

Chip: [han nat 1 insight check] renny would never lie to you.... perish the thought Han: tru milfs wont lie to me they love me Chip: so true

Getting a sense the conversation isnt really going anywhere, Cimmorro takes a step back to cast sending to cole while the others continue chatting along with renny, though renny gives him a curious glance.

Keva: "did you notice anything weird with the other guy when he left?" Han: [nods at keva’s q] Renny: "hmm...seemed tired, like he was in a daze. didn't ask"

Cimmorro: "it's cimmorro. do you have any clue where you are right now? any clue at all. keep it brief, this spell cant hold." Cole: after a second or two you hear a response in coles voice in your head "ahuh- is that you cimm?? whoa where are you....were underground uh...some huge group jumped us. um uh...in the bone somewhere higher up-" before it cuts off Cimmorro: just face palms at cole's rambling before getting everyone's attention "hate to break the chat but it seems like they're 'in the bone somewhere higher up,' cole said" Han: "...so like..." han points upwards to shorewater Rokka: "please don't tell me its the cult again ugh..." Psalm: [to renny] "If you don't mind, do you have any idea what 'higher up' would mean for down here?" Renny: "could mean one of the taller buildings or scaffoldings that crawls up the cove walls. or could just mean up north, theres a bit of a slant that lets you see over the rest of the cove from back there" she shrugs "doesn't really narrow down your search radius though i think, could ask around, more foot traffic lately"

Han, Psalm and Finn both think to themselves if they know of any particular big groups that may have targeted the two down here. Psalm and Finn come up with nothing, the latter having gotten most of his information from his uncle. Han thinks a bit longer but nothing immediately pops into her head outside trading groups ferrie told her about. Cole could be talking about a big gang but she gets the feeling there's plenty of those down here and she doesn't know any of them by name.

The group think amongst themselves, deciding they should split up to search, one group prowling the rooftops of the rickety buildings while others search and ask around on foot.

Han: she goes "well, thanks for your time" and gives renny another 5 gold Renny: she raises a brow and takes it "well thank you, if ya spot him down the line let me know. finding myself a little curious now" Han: "will do ma'am" ^_^ Renny: she waves and shuts the door behind her as you all chatter amongst yourselves, you hear the door lock four times behind her

Finn: "psalm you may not be going to the roof but ill give you my grimnir raid id while youre still here, its my strike time you see...” Psalm: "Yeah no problem I can mvp" Finn: "It's '00568E33, thank you psalm. your fire is invaluable to my raids." Rokka: BAN GBF Chip:

Finn: QWHY ARE YOU EXPOSING ME Psalm: OH I CAN GO HOLD ON Keva: OH MY GOD Plum: oh my god Finn: IUMDIFMFG

Rokka: he fidgets at the thought of leaving ground team alone "I'll...go with the ground..." Han: ;LK;LKHSDALKHFKWELKRD 🥺

The groups split into two teams [ Han, Finn and Keva ] to explore the roofs and [ Psalm, Cimmorro, Plum and Rokka ] to ask around on foot. They decide to all meet back up again in about an hour’s time at Renny’s to share their findings.

The ground group decide to make their way to Nickel to see if they can get any useful information out of him. In the meanwhile the rooftop group sidle up to the nearest looking short building. Han offers to help the two up but Keva quickly climbs up and ahead of the other two on her own.

Han: "yes, i give boost, no problem" Plum: forgot han sounds like this https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iW1Nff6jgjo

Finn: "ive no need for any such thing. a vampire can scale any surface." Han: "so can i, am i vampire now" Finn: "no you cannot! i can climb anything! you cannot." he crosses his arms. Han: "... yes i can" Finn: finn furrows his brows. "you are so foolish that it truly escapes me how you've made it this far." Han: han crosses her arms at finn "what? why?" Finn: finn is exasperated. "insufferable." he scoffs before turning his back to han. Han: "what, you think i cant? ill prove it" Finn: "prove it then." he says in a snotty tone

Han casts spiderclimb on herself before immediately running up the side of the wall like naruto, laughing in victory from the rooftop. Though once she reaches the top she realises she does not have darkvision and cant really scope the place out at all. She can see many small lights peppered around the cove, but on the roofs? there are no lights on the roofs. its going to be easy to trip up here. In the meantime Keva attempts to peer out for anything suspicious, though she comes up empty, slightly distracted by the two behind her’s antics.

Han: “....balls” Finn: he stares for a good moment. but then he shakes his head and tsks, despite han not being able to hear. foolish goliath. she had to cast a spell to do it! how foolish! [he then climbs up effortlessly after her] Keva: she just, pulls her hood down lower and goes toward the higher nearby building mumbling "i'm not dealing with this"

The group make an effort to stealth themselves once they get up, Keva doing so well that Han loses track of where she went as the former climbs higher up on the building next to them.

Han: han is like "you take ages" Finn: "perhaps you ought to take your time too, might draw fewer eyes to you." finn checks out his gloved nails you know how. its about the vibes it gives off 💅 Han: han is like >:/ MAYBE SO.................

In the meantime the other group make their way over to the location of nickel’s familiar storefront, Han having quickly shouted them directions from the last time she was down here. As the group approach they see a good number of boats near the shoreline and the building, it appears a group of people in similar uniforms as Nickel are hauling crates and barrels onto them.

They walk over to the tented side of the building to find nickel where they last spoke to him, though as they make to dip their heads inside a hand comes up in front of their faces shooing you back out, on the other side of it they hear nickels familiar drawl

Nickel: “sorry pal, closing up for the moment, trying to shift out our stock around like everyone else so-“ he sticks his head out from the flap at the tail end of his spiel “oh you lot again? surprised you’re down here again after all the chatter I’ve been hearing flow through” he gives your group a lazy smirk. Psalm: "Eh... that got sorted out, but we're not here to shop." Plum: "yo, you wouldnt happen to know about any big gangs in the area would you" Han: SUCH AS YOURS, O FAIR NICKEL? Cimmorro: "what's the hullabaloo about actually?" Nickel: "wow fun question, whyre ya asking" he gives an awww at the no shopping comment before turning to cimmorro "hmm? figured you'd have heard about the big bad royal guards skulking around down here, among other things"

Plum: “...” i'm gonna turn to cimm and psalm and be like "is it a good idea to tell him why" Psalm: "I don't see how we can avoid that if we want to get the most information out of him if he knows something but... we can try?" Plum: "that's what i think, and it's not like he's the most trustworthy person ever, well okay” Psalm: "As far as I know the Dark Blues are a merchant group and not in the business of kidnapping people, so i want to say i doubt he’d be involved”

Plum: "fine, well, some friends of ours got kidnapped" Cimmorro: cimm just gives a "ah, just curious if there'd be more to it than that" also just nodding to psalm and plum rn Nickel: "everyone here’s a little paranoid yknow? well myself included, so you can imagine anyone who’s drifting through is leaving and everybody else is boarding up their doors and digging their holes” he puts a hand to his chin “ ahhh the city feels a little scary these days don’t it valued customers?” he says while theatrically scrunching up his face in woe before turning to you plum "sad story there friend, not uncommon a thing to hear round here" Plum: "sure, sure, but have you heard of any group like that is what i'm asking, like lets say its not just some random thugs" Nickel: "oh plenty down here, but you'll want to narrow down the list unless you want to stand here and listen to me drone on for an hour" he folds his arms and smiles "and its not very in my nature to give things away for free" Plum: plum puts their fingers to their head in annoyance and says "i'd rather listen to you drone on than be doing this right now" Nickel: he goes ^__^

The group relay to him what Cole told them, about being higher up somewhere within the bone, specifying she probably meant somewhere in the northern area rather than above their heads. They also state they’re looking for Ezra, remembering Nickel encountered him the first time they met the drow so he may recognise him, they also bring up rickert’s name additionally.

Cimmorro: "oh hum... does rickert sound familiar to you?" Nickel: "hmmm...somewhat, pauldrun...?" Psalm: "Elf, short hair, missing his right eye. Scar on his face. Has probably never smiled in his life. Ringing any bells?” Nickel: he nods his head and shakes his hand "ah yes yes i know of him, hes fond of grinning i hear actually" Cimmorro: "the one with us was the opposite of that yeah" Rokka: "wonder why he doesn't grin with us 🤔 " Psalm: "Well hearsay and reality tend to be two very different experiences 😇" Nickel: he laughs at that Psalm: score Han: ARE YOU IN A DAITNG SIM A;LKDSFHRLKW3EFDS

Cimmorro: "SO.... if you two are done flirting... any clue of their possible whereabouts or no" Nickel: he smirks at you cimm and continues "him and his motley crew? i know where they like to hang around the most at least" Cimmorro: 😳 ".... and i assume you want compensation for that information?" cimm exhales Nickel: "well since you're not buying anything..." he smiles

Psalm: "I wouldn't put it past them to kidnap people... 🤔" Cimmorro: "yeah especially if it's ezra lol" Psalm: "That aside, remember what they were up to when we first ran into them." Plum: "unfortunately, it's not too farfetched that it could be them" Cimmorro: "they sure like their ropes!" Rokka: "Makes sense"

Cimmorro: looks at nickel unamused "what's your offer then?" Nickel: "hmmm lets say 70 gold" Rokka: Psalm quick eldritch blast Psalm: i want to be able to shop here later...

Cimmorro: i huddle towards the others "not particularly skilled in haggling so if one of you wants to try... either way, we can also pool for it" Plum: "i'm also not skilled at haggling" Rokka: ok rokka pulls out 70g and dumps it on nickels hand "that good sir?" Nickel: "oho thank you kindly sir" he pockets into one of his pouches with a smile while giving you a knowing glance

Nickel: he turns to address you all now "if you want to find rickert i suggest you look for a bar called the Cracked Skull, its where him and his gang like to idle around when they're down here. if they aren't on a job in any case, they’re probably busy with people leaving or piling in so you’re bound ta’ find someone whos seen him recently" another smile Psalm: "What are the directions from here?" Nickel: "head around the east dive, its where most of the livelier bars are, place has a big skull drawn on the front of it, hard to miss"

Plum: "oh last thing, when are you reopening your shop after all the, uh-" gestures to people moving around Nickel: he looks down at you "hmmm well right now were relocating our storage and whatnot so..." he thinks for a beat "if nobody comes snooping for us specifically we'll probably be open our doors again within the week, eager to see you then of course" Plum: "right" and then in a more deadpan voice plum says "see you then" Rokka: "thank you good bye!" Psalm: "Thank you kindly." Cimmorro: cimm just leaves fr Nickel: he gives you all a cheery wave "see you again soon"

Plum: theres no way rickert's gotten to level 5 within a week lets beat his ass Cimmorro: little did u know he fought a dragon and got to lv 20

Cimmorro: once we're out the store i'm gonna nudge rokka "i'll pay a part of that gold later. i have no change on me right now" Rokka: rokka looks at cimm "huh? what? no! no, it's fine don't worry about it!! thank you though..." Cimmorro: :/ "it's a group effort right now and i'd like to do my part. nothing more nothing less" Rokka: "i mean...if you insiiiisstttt...." rokka nods and looks around for a bit before looking back at cimm "no rush though!"

The belowground group make their way over towards the Cracked Skull. Back with the rooftop group both Keva and Finn attempt to peer out into the cove for anything of note nearby but both ultimately come up with nothing. Finn finds himself distracted by Han nearly tripping over the roof in the dark while Keva stares back down at the two from her higher vantage point, throwing a small rock at Han’s leg to get the twos attention.

Finn: "looks like you cannot climb anything, the way i do. time to admit it, no?" Han: "i just proved i can climb it easily, what the fuck are you on about" Finn: "tripping over yourself like the oaf you are, ha. you are not just foolish, but also amusing." Han: "i cant see in the da-(VERY MUFFLED SQUEAK OF SURPRISE)" [tracks where the stone came from] then punts finn and goes "whatever, come on" Finn: finn holds a hand over his mouth in fake shock and rolls his eyes. "sure."

The group set out to start snooping around the taller buildings near Renny’s as opposed to just looking out over the streets. Keva manages to keep quiet and not alert people inside as she peers through cracks, she sees quite a few shady dealings occurring but nothing that seems to be related to Cole or Ezra. Finn ends up much the same as Keva, thinking to himself ‘wild that people live here’ as he stares at some guy randomly sleeping on the floor.

Han has less luck than the other two, coming across heavily boarded windows, and even when she can peer through the cracks its too dark inside for her to notice anything. As she stomps about the outside she also gets an ugly glare from one window from an occupant inside. She quickly gives a peace sign and slides down the wall back to the ground while the eyes glare at her all the while.

The three regroup a little dejected, han pouts.

Keva: "maybe we're thinking about this the wrong way" Han: han looks at keva like go on Finn: "i am not sure myself. i wonder if the other team is making any more progress than we are." Keva: "i don't know, there's like uptown and downtown in cities right? maybe there's different part of the withered bone" Han: "renny said it could be north where theres a scaffolding... north should be that way (points), we could try heading there" Finn: cant I fact check on that being north [it is] "let us do that then. I do not see any other leads that we could possibly follow instead."

They decide to make their way over to the northern side of the cove, hopping over the roofs in the dark as they go (han with slightly less reckless abandon). Once arriving in the northern area they split and once again get to searching around the outside of the buildings from the roofs.

Finn comes up empty, these people really like to board their windows shut...it was annoying before but it is also annoying now. Han and Keva have slightly more success, managing to look into a few more rooms, but nothing obvious. Han gets a few more eyes glaring at her every time she passes by some windows, at one point even feeling a knife chucked into the boards at one point in her direction as a response to her unstealthily snooping.

The three regroup with a huff as they discuss their findings, staring about the area. They take note the western side of the cavern wall that they’re now near. It appears to have these spidering scaffoldings heading up to smaller buildings built higher into the walls, but they cant really tell how to get there.

Han: "should we...attempt to go there?" han points to the cavern wall scaffoldings Keva: "do we got time?" Han: han is like ehhhhhhh Keva: "okay well, i'll go back to meet up with the others then to tell them where you are, since we're almost out of time" Finn: "think we'll be fast enough?" finn raises an eyebrow @ han Han: han looks uncertain for a sec but then is like "ye, course" Keva: "right well don't be idiots on the way" and keva's gonna head off Finn: "hmph." finn shakes his head briefly. "let us waste no time."

Keva makes her way quickly back to Renny’s inn and waits outside on the roof, keeping an eye out for the others. The other two begin looking for a way up the scaffolds. Surprisingly in the dark Han finds the leisurely pace she's able to take with the spiderclimb works in her favour, she gets in some reconnaissance. Lower on the ground she sees a few figures in black hoods with gold trim siting at the entrance to the scaffolds keeping watch near a lantern, letting people pass up occasionally every now and again.

Finn slightly less successful simply peers up at the scaffolds, he guesses he could climb up there....its probably fine.... Before he can try anything Han stops him and points at the entrance, indicating if they wanted to climb up they should start further down and away from the guards at the entrance. She leads the two of them out of earshot and the two begin climbing, han switching to her climbers kit halfway through.

They seem successful for a time, though as the two get close to the scaffolding they hear a loud whistle suddenly in their ears. Peering up at the scaffolding they see someone in a similar hood to those at the entrance holding a crossbow staring down at them. Their face shadowed, they aim the crossbow at the two of them and wave it downwards, motioning for them to go back the way they came as a warning.

Han: han whispers "could u keep climbing quietly" Finn: finn looks at her briefly but nods, and keeps climbing up. Guard: the guard looks at you finn and shoots an arrow into the wall above your head

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> 🎵 Pyrates Beware / Assassin's Creed IV OST

Soon after the guard shoots their crossbow Han pulls her piston gear out and goes into freefall, pulling out her own bow and taking two shots at them. One hits, striking the guard in the shoulder before she plummets, the guard grunts out a cry of pain before whipping their glare in finn's directions seeing her now drop.

Psalm: somehow this is still less risky than us sending rokka to go talk to henrick while rickert is there Han: JHFGJTFHDRETRKYGLHUK

Quickly the guard brings a hand up to their mouth again and lets out a longer loud whistle, along the wall suddenly Han and Finn both see lanterns lighting up one by one as she falls. Han quickly cats feather fall on herself before she hits the ground allowing her to land on her feet.

Across the cove Keva in the distance looks out towards the western cavern wall in the dark, there she can see one by one lanterns quickly lighting up across the scaffolds strangely. She quickly jumps to her feet running over the roofs as fast as she can.

Han: everyone playing with me

Finn: I MEAN...WOULD THEY SHOOT ME IF IM BACKING OFF... PLEASE PLEASE IM SO NOBLE POSITION OF PRIVILEGE!!!

Soon after she hits the ground Finn stops in place out of fear, seeing the lanterns light up he drops right after her. She ends up catching him in her arms easily enough.

Han: curses under her breathe in a language u dont understand and then says "time to runnnn" Finn: finn glares at you han. "i should have known better than to count on you for a plan! imbecile!" he also curses in a language you dont understand and hops out of your arms to run himself Han: "i SAID could you get UP THERE qUIETLY and YOU! said YES!!!!!!!!" Finn: "you reassured me youd distract him! ugh! i wouldve expected you to take that lowly guard out swiftly, but no! you are nothing but an oaf!" he grunts

Han skids to halt and attempts to deck finn for the insult but he quickly dodges out of the way as they run.

Finn: finn gasps, offended by your attempt. "you...!! ive no words! baseborn scum!" he cusses at her quite unrestrained and bolts again. Han: "YOU LITTLE UNGRATEFUL, SHIT FOR BRAINS TWIG MAN" Finn: "SUCH A BLOATED BODY BUT NO SPACE FOR THE MOST VITAL ORGAN!"

The two continue bickering until Han spots an alleyway while they're running, tackling Finn into it with her successfully. She grapples him in her hands, whapping a hand over his mouth and casts pass without a trace. He begins shouting grumpily but she quickly tells him to quiet down so the two can stay hidden from the now approaching guards. He reluctantly settles down in her grasp fighting the urge to bite her hand.

The two go deathly quiet, listening in they hear yelling and chatter near the scaffolding begin to ramp up, after a minute or so they hear footsteps run past the alleyway, noting the familiar hoods it appears that they haven’t noticed their hiding spot. After a moment Han releases her hand from Finn’s mouth and makes a shooshing motion, though she still keeps a grip on him as they wait for the guards to disperse.

Han: finn feels hans heart pounding kya Finn: KYA finn just goes wow havent felt one of those in forever

After a time it seems the guards roaming around on the ground have moved on from their area, though the scaffolding is still lit up, seems they're still alerted up higher. Keva also quickly arrives in the area, looking around she sees people in hoods holding lanterns hunting around, though not much else.

Han: han lets u go completely after the noise dies down and says " dont stray too far from me." and starts going making way to rennys Finn: finn tsks at you once again, but is no longer in the mood to start arguments, for once. he follows you.

Keva stares at the group roaming about trying to discern anything about them but they seem pretty covert, she can tell for sure that they're guarding the upper scaffolds down here, and that there seem to be a good number of them. Seeing nothing to do she sighs and heads back over to Renny’s the same time Finn and Han do.

In the meanwhile the other group make their way over to the east dive from nickel's storefront, its easy enough for them to find their way as they remember heading to the area to check out Sammy's abode. As they look around they find what seems to be a populated area of sorts and a few crowded buildings.

Nearby they spot a rickety wooden building with a white skull painted across its front, in front of if a few figures huddled on the front stoop, sounds of chatter and laughter coming from inside. It appears they’ve found the place.

The figures huddled near the door don’t really move as the group approach so they find themselves having to step over and around them to get into the building.

youtube

> 🎵 Bridge to London / Vampyr OST

Entering the busy bar they see a number of seedy looking individuals peppered about, hooded figures and the more overt looking cutthroats and mercs, as well as any other wayward traveller nursing a drink looking for somewhere to lay low. Looking about they don’t recognise most of them, noting a stocky looking bartender behind the bar and a few hired guards standing at the doors, though in the corner of the room they see a smaller group huddled around a table.

Staring closer they recognise them as Rickert and part of his gang, four people sitting around with what looks like nothing better to do, including Henrick. from this distance they can see Rickert angrily arguing with one of the goonies while holding them in a headlock, Henrick looks on wearily taking a sip of a drink while him and the other one try and play cards.

Nervous about talking to Rickert out of disguise, the group all nominate Rokka to head over and get Henrick’s attention so they can talk to him instead while Rickert’s not around. He nervously walks over in his disguised form whistling as the others watch from across the room.

Cimmorro: everyone watches rokka miserably Psalm: miserably is right we owe him the 70 gold after this

Rickert: as you approach you see rickert's head turn up in your direction and squint along with the goon in the headlock. the other two at the table also peer in your direction "...what do ya want?" Rokka: his whistling dies down like those cartoon sounds of a falling missile "uh.......... i uh........... " he looks between rickert and henrick "i saw my old bud henrick!!!!!!! hey!!!!!! henrick!!!!!!!!!"

Psalm: oh yknow i have invisibility we could've gone about this a completely different way how did that slip my mind Plum: I WILL KILL YOU Cimmorro: AOIGJAIWJGAJGADG Plum: you could've whispered surreptitiously in henrick's ear and changed the whole genre of this encounter Psalm: suddenly the rating goes up

Rickert: he glares at you before whipping his head in henricks direction Henrick: he stares at you utterly confused before his eyes widen a fraction, but then he looks confused again "uh..?" Rokka: nervously laughs "HAHA....long time no see buddy!!!" rokka moves to give him a big unintentionally tight hug and whispers in his ear "im psalms friend pleaase come with me emergency" he laughs again when releasing him "MIND IF I BORROW THIS RASCAL FOR A DRINK?" Henrick: he grunts with surprise at the crushing hug, trying to hold onto the cards in his hands "uh-!" he listens to you whisper in his ear and whispers back a "...w-who...?" Rickert: across he lets out a cackle "wow didnt know you actually had friends henrick" Rokka: nervously laughs again and slings his arm around henricks shoulder and gives tight squeeze "YEAH!!! he and i go WAYYY back! thought i would never see him again!!" he begins to pulls henrick away "ANYWAYS!! I'LL BRING THIS GUY BACK TO YA ASAP!! ILL EVEN BUY U A ROUND OF DRINKS!!! LATER!!" moving => henrick Henrick: he lets you drag him away confused "uh- guess ill fold for this round guys" and lets you drag him away from the table, you see rickert look at his hand after he places it on the table and he lets out another cackle

Rokka: quickly says everything in one breath bc hes scared rickert will call him back "remember that tall red tiefling with the group w the lupin and goliath? im the lupin we need ur help please just come im so sorry" and quickens our pace to the grounders Henrick: he nods at you confused as you drag him along "....sure but why are y-" then he turns as hes presented before you all "oh...hello..?" Rokka: heaves a sigh of relief once reaching the group and lets go of henrick "i........brought him.........." Plum: 'yeah, somehow that mess actually worked! good one" Cimmorro: raises a hand like a weak greeting

Rokka: mumbling like "i need a drink" Psalm: "We can do that after, right now maybe we should step outside for a bit?” Rokka: sighs again and slings his arm over henricks shoulder and moves him towards the exit Psalm: "Cheer up Rokka, once we're done with all this you can get me that drink you owe me." Rokka: "aww man i thought you forgot about that!!" blows raspberry Psalm: “you wish”

Henrick: he tilts his head and looks back at rickert scratching his neck “sure though i dont know why…seeing you guys a lot lately huh” his eyes back towards psalm “you just here to hire us again for something?” he yelps as rokka pushes him towards the exist and goes Plum: "hell no" Psalm: "You free for hire? Although my friend's right, not really here for that right now. Kind of on an urgent mission right now actually." Henrick: he tilts his head "ah yeah rickerts always doing whatever pays, i figured you'd know because of your friend here" and he points at cimmorro Plum: "cimm, the fuck does that mean?" Cimmorro: cimm just looks like this O_O???? "excuse me???" Henrick: he squints in confusion “the other day at the pier, you uhh” and he points at cimmorro “hired us to move some crates round the caves, didn’t really know if was you though till we got paid at the end of it though” he gives cimmorro a curious look “was kinda funny to see the boss’ reaction… are bounty hunters fond of hiring people they’re out to grab for odd jobs like that or is he not on the radar anymore…that’d be nice for a number of reasons…..” and he kind of looks away scratching his neck Psalm: Psalm just looks at Cimmorro wide eyed like HUH? Cimmorro: cimm JUST LOOKS AS SURPRISED AS YOU ARE "DONT GIVE ME THAT LOOK. I WAS WITH YOU GUYS THIS WHOLE TIME???"

Plum: "the other day? do you remember how many days ago or so?" Psalm: "Wait you're saying he hired you? *points at Cimm * You're absolutely sure you got a good look?" Cimmorro: "loathe as i am to remember the fact that i've done nothing but hang out with you all but by the goddess" Psalm: "Ok that bits just unnecessary although I get it."

Henrick: he stares at cimmorro and psalm's confused reactions "uh...same day i saw you again actually, kinda strange?" he gives cimm a good stare at your request then turns back to psalm "uhh...yep not many people look like him frankly" Cimmorro: cimm just pinching the bridge of his nose rn Psalm: just pinches his eyes like i have a fuckin headache rn "Mind telling me where you moved the crates?" Henrick: he taps his fingers nervously on his arms "im getting the feeling.... somethings weird here huh" he turns to you psalm "it was somewhere in the caverns, looked pretty nondescript but then so are all drop off points...?" Psalm: "Yeah just a little weird. I'm guessing you don't know what was in them?" Henrick: he shakes his head "nah they were nailed shut, clients can tell easy if you mess around so we didn't bother, though i was curious" Cimmorro: "where were these drop points?" Henrick: he scratches his head nervously "uhh i dont really remember, like i said in the caverns, its a popular place for smugglers to make deals so i dont think much of it" he looks more anxious as the conversation goes on Psalm: “Maybe we should head back inside and see if boss man will know? Amazing, this isn't even what we wanted to find out and yet here we are."

Han: gg henrick u were an unknowing assistant in the plot to turn the whole city to zombieland Psalm: imagine being that guy Plum: moe through helplessness

Attempting to move on from the revelation from Henrick about Cimmorro’s doppelganger, the group then get about to asking what they dragged him over for in the first place.

Cimmorro: "guess i can just waltz in there for a chat later huh.... in any case we're looking for an elf man, pretty large scar on the face? any clue?" Psalm: "Missing a right eye also, was with a blue tiefling before they went missing." Henrick: he tilts his head and thinks "i know a few guys who match that description honestly" as you keep talking his face kinda goes still “….uh….” he starts nervously tapping his hand on his leg “right that guy from the other day….i didn’t get much of a look at him when our base got busted but I guess he’s with you, makes sense…” Cimmorro: "so have u seen him recently... down here?" Henrick: he looks away to stare at the street "uh...dunno, you'd be better off asking rickert..." Cimmorro: STARTS SLOUCHING AS I HEAD TOWARD THE BAR Psalm:* picks you up and throws you into the ring * Henrick: he watches you go nervously and puts a hand to his face with a woeful expression, following after

The group all stroll their way back into the bar as a group and head over to rickert's table, as they do he turns his head in cimmorro’s direction

Rickert: “aha would ya look at that, this ones come slinking round again” eyeballing cimmorro “need us again big boy? the hell d’yall need to transport round caves anyway” as he speaks he takes a sip of his drink Cimmorro: BIG BOY HE SAID Psalm: i hate rickert more than anything

Cimmorro: "haha yeah it's nice to see you too... listen, i'm looking for someone. you remember that elf with a face scar from your base's basement? have you seen him recently down here?" cimm trying to not look as strained as he is rn Rickert: at that his face seems to light up with a wicked glee “the other bounty hunter who chucked that vial of acid right into my beautiful face? hah! yeah i’ve seen the bastard recently actually, though I dunno if I wanna tell ya why or where” and he leans back on his hands whistling “whats in it for me?” Plum: just say i'll make it worth your while Han: do a blowjob motion at rickert Psalm: hhuhuGHURJAF Finn: what happened to cimm usually being so easy going huh, just do the blowjob motion coward

Cimmorro: "aha of course, you son of a gun. you know little ol' me. i'll make it worth your while" Rickert: he hmms to himself before scratching his chin “so charitable of ya, you know i know just the thing, beat me in a game of cards and I’ll tell ya everything you’d ever want to know free of charge, thieves’ honour” he gives you all a smirk as he leans across the table “you lose then you pay me, considering how important this information seems to alla’ you …..lets say 350 gold?” he spits the terms out while smiling Cimmorro: "does it have to be me? i... don't really have to time for cards right now" Rickert: he leans back into the booth lazily "doesn't have to be you, can be any one of your friends, two of you, well go best of three playing kings gambit, you against me and one of my boys. if you're too busy then i guess ya can buzz off and quit wasting my time" he leans forward with a grimace Cimmorro: i look at the rest of you like "well... anyone wanna play cards? guess i'll play if we have no other choice" Psalm: "I'll play as well."

The group however quickly tell Rickert to wait a moment before shuffling over to another end of the bar to figure out how theyre going to cheat, leaving Rokka alone with the gang again. Rickert snorts into his drink with disinterest watching them shuffle off. Rokka quickly looks for an excuse so he can shuffle off as well briefly.

Rokka: yeah honestly rokkkas like hahha...........time to fetch those ales!!!!!!! ahahha crying at his wallet

Cimmorro: [casting guidance] Psalm: "Ok, obviously losing 350 on this guy is a waste, so we're gonna need your help to cheat." Plum: "right i think i can guess what you have in mind' Psalm: "Great, saves having to explain." Plum: "just tell them i went to go report back to some friends wed be late returning to our meet up point or something, if they asked where i went i suppose" Psalm: "Wow you read my mind. As for how to cheat.. well I'm sure you can think of something." Plum: "er... i'll try Psalm: "I guess we can come up with a system for you to check their dice for me." Plum: "maybe i can just draw the number on your palm or something" Psalm: "Fine with me."

Psalm: "Ghester you want to help me cheat here?" Plum: "what the fuck is a ghester" Cimmorro: plum and cimm looking at psalm like elaborate... Now Ghester: you hear ghester laugh in your head psalm "i could only focus on one of them but perhaps if they aren't too quick with their hands" after a minute you hear a voice in your head cimmorro and plum out of nowhere "hello again" Plum: "did one of you just say something?" Cimmorro: "ohhh!!! it's you!!" Ghester: you hear the voice continue cimmorro "yes me" Psalm: "Great, so out game plan can be Ghester you focus on whoever's playing that isn't Rickert, Plum you can take Rickert and maybe write the number in Cimmorro's hand instead of mine. Ghester can just tell me the other guys numbers if.. he can. We can just figure it out like that." Plum: "ghester is that voice i heard just now?" Psalm: "I'll explain after we finish this. But yes." Cimmorro: "you have a lot of explaining to do after this but sure that sounds dope"

The three continue to discuss their means of leverage while Rokka attempts to buy a round of drinks for Rickert’s gang, the chatter and boisterous activity of the bar booming around them. ---

Notes

🐺 Rokka handed 70g to 👛Nickel

The Western Scaffolds are on alert... 🔎

---

「 King Gambit 👑 」 Rules

King’s Gambit has a buy in bet of 5 gold, though in this game with Rickert you'll be using chips.

Each card player rolls 1d8, keeping the die hidden. each player has the chance to raise the bet, call the bet (meet it), or fold. This continues when all bets are equal.

Then each player rolls a 1d6, keeping it secret as well. A final chance to raise, call, or fold. Each remaining player rolls 1d4. They then all reveal the 1d8, 1d6, and 1d4, adding them all together.

The person with the highest total dice number wins the round and takes all the chips. by the end of the three rounds the person who has won the highest amount of chips is the ultimate winner

#recaps #200927

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