#limbless lucky guy

[a-sin-to-be-rin]

Cliffs: Slippery When Wet

While searching for Libertalia, Shoreline runs the Drake brothers aground.

An alternative beginning to A Thief's End: Chapter 13: Marooned

---

“On your right!”

The first thing Nate thinks is, Yeah, right. Because he isn't sure how Sam can see anything in this storm. They're moving so quickly, and rocks are appearing so suddenly, and ocean mist blends so thickly with savage rainfall that Nate can't see a damn thing.

“Watch out, watch out!” Sam is screaming over the waves. Whatever he thinks he sees, he really believes it's there.

Nate glances to the side, and that's when a flaming, 500 foot naval frigate smashes into their fishing boat.

“Oh, shit!”

The fishing boat splinters underneath them and tosses them to the waves, the frigate barreling through like a linebacker through wet tissue paper. 

“NATHAN!”

Nate slams against the water’s surface. The frigate's wake drags him down, and he frantically swims against it. But it's really no use. Nathan Drake may be a veteran explorer and a daring adventurer, but even he is subject to the forces of nature. (Or, in this instance, the forces of a giant, bloodthirsty Shoreline boat.)

The surface grows further and further away, and Nate allows himself to be sucked down, with the hopes that maybe, eventually, the boat will pass and the waters will calm.

---

The boat passes. The waters do not calm.

Nathan gasps for breath, coughing as seawater threatens to invade his lungs. He treads water a bit frantically and only semi-effectively.

“Sam?” he calls, but it comes out as a croak. There's no way Sam could hear him in a storm like this. The ocean is roaring, and the rain is torrential. Nate can barely hear himself.

Once he's no longer at risk of dry-drowning, Nathan searches the area. He can’t see much, really, but he’s willing to bet there are more Shoreline boats out there. He could try searching for one, hoping to climb aboard. But at the very least, he would be tossed back into the water. At most, they'd probably just shoot him. So stowing away isn’t an option.

All things considered, Nate is lucky. They’d crashed close to the island. Or… he thinks they crashed close to the island. It's tough to tell in the storm. All he can really do is start swimming and hope to run into something eventually.

The longer Nate paddles, the more he realizes how bone-deep exhausted he is. His muscles strain as he pushes through the water. Every so often, he catches himself slowing down, and he has to kick even harder to keep from sinking. Waves come and go, frequently breaking over his head and sending him spinning underwater. Each time, Nate manages his way back to the surface, but each time, he feels how much harder it is to swim. How much more his lungs burn.

In movies, when the stranded traveler finally sees land, they speed up, so eager and reinvigorated and desperate for reprieve that they get their second wind. But when Nathan finally gets close enough to see the shore, he can barely tread water anymore, much less swim. He’s so, so close, but his arms and legs simply won’t listen.

Look, guys, Nate tries to reason with his limbs. If I don't get out of the water now, I’m going to drown.

We’re cold, his arms argue back.

We’re tired, his legs agree.

You're useless, Nate thinks bitterly. Fine. I’ll do it myself.

But without arms and legs, Nathan is little more than a limbless torso with a head. And for a limbless torso with a head, he does pretty well for himself. But the expectations aren't particularly high for limbless torsos with a head. So in actuality, he doesn't bring himself to shore. He barely stays afloat.

No, the real savior here is the tide. Mother Nature, in all her years of terrorizing Nate, finally cuts him a break. And through the tide alone, Nate washes up on the beach. He lifts his head out of the waterlogged sand and pushes himself up with jelly legs and marmalade arms. The rain continues its barrage, blowing sideways and stinging Nate’s face. But he’s already so soaked that it makes no difference.

“Alright,” Nathan mutters to himself, trying to muster the strength to trudge forward. “I gotta get off this beach.”

The sky is so dark that Nate can’t tell if it’s day or night. And unfortunately, the island is no more visible on land as it was from the water. He’s running blindly into the storm, deafened by rolling thunder and numbed by harsh wind against wet skin. It really should be no surprise that Nate slips almost immediately, falling off a rocky ledge, smacking his shoulder on the way down, and landing on his face.

For a long, dangerous second, Nathan considers staying put. Surely this can wait. His every muscle stings, spasming with fatigue. His shoulder pounds to the beat of his heart. He desperately needs a rest.

But then Nate starts thinking, and he realizes what he forgot.

“Goddamn it,” he growls, pushing himself up and breaking into an uneven jog. “SAM!”

There’s a very good chance that Sam didn’t even make it to shore. Maybe he found a boat. Maybe he was captured. Maybe he’s still in the water.

Maybe he’s dead.

Nate doesn’t hold onto that thought for long. He can’t. It would only make it that much harder to find Sam. (Because Sam is alive, dammit. He’s too stubborn to drown, and bullets obviously don’t have the same effect on him as they do everyone else.)

Wiping the rain from his eyes, Nathan finds a craggy outcrop in his way. The conditions are terrible for climbing, but the conditions are also terrible for running and swimming and trying to outgun a fleet of Shoreline ships, so what does Nathan care? He finds handholds and footholds and starts his ascent.

The climbing isn’t as bad as Nate expected. It’s slippery as hell, but the rocks are relatively short. It takes very little time to make it over the precipice. The view is dismal - just white waves and foreboding rocks sticking out of the water like giant daggers - but it gives him a glimpse of something else. Light, glinting off something to his left. So Nate carefully jumps down to the saturated shoreline. It jars his every joint and bone, but he can’t worry about it. He approaches the light, now clearly his supply box.

Or it was his supply box. Because there’s not a single supply inside. It’s just a useless box.

“For god’s s-” Nathan groans. “Of course. Everything’s gone.”

So Nate just moves right ahead. He really can’t stop right now.

“Maybe that’s a good sign,” he muses. “Maybe Sam took it.”

Maybe he’s looking for excuses to believe Sam is okay. Or maybe it’s true and Sam did take it. Who’s to say?

Nathan runs under a felled tree and climbs further up the cliff. “On the bright side, I can’t lose anything else… except my life.” And then something strikes him. “Talking to myself… That’s the first sign of crazy, isn’t it?”

And the second sign of crazy is asking yourself questions that you already know the answer to.

He pulls himself up yet another ledge, but his muscles are shaking worse than ever. The strength it takes to just walk, much less climb, is starting to get to him. His movements slow, limp worsening.

“Alright,” he tells himself. “I’m alright.”

And then Nathan steps off a cliff.

“Ugh!” he grunts, standing immediately. If he lays down now, he’ll never get back up. “Just push through,” he pants, moving forward. “Just push- augh!”

The ground beneath his feet crumbles, large chunks of rock splashing in the ocean below. Nate scrabbles for a solid surface, just barely grabbing hold in time. Once more, he pulls himself up and keeps moving.

“To hell with this place,” Nathan groans, carefully shuffling past the new gap in the ledge and climbing the next cliff face in his path. It’s getting worse. His head is spinning, and just reaching for handholds has him grunting like he’s playing in the finals at the Wimbledon. (Yeah, he watches tennis. What of it?)

But he reaches the top eventually, groaning and whining the whole way.

“Gotta keep going. Gotta keep going.”

The next climb is situated under a waterfall. Nate doesn’t consider this, because every climb has been wet. What’s a little running water going to do?

Kill you, Nate. It will probably kill you.

So he grabs hold, inching his way along a narrow ledge. He’s doing okay, considering, until the grip under his fingers is loosened by soggy moss. He slips, screams, and catches a lower ledge.

“Hah,” he wheezes. “That was… That was close.”

Slowly, painfully, he reaches up for a safer handhold. The muscles in his back are screaming. His injured shoulder shrieks.

And he slips again.

“No, no, no-!”

But Nathan has Drake luck. He grabs a piece of rock jutting out from the cliff face, slicing his hands in the process, but preventing certain doom. The waterfall is still dumping buckets on him, weakening his grip. He pulls himself upwards, barely managing to reach the next handhold. But he does reach it, and progress is progress.

And then the rock crumbles, his fingers slip, and he finds himself falling. There’s no catching himself this time. No close calls. He’s going to die.

Nate slams into solid rock, curls in on himself, and falls limp. Moving forward is no longer a question or a choice. It’s an impossibility. And though Nate loves himself a good challenge, he’s not going to beat this one.

---

Sam doesn’t like rain. That’s not particularly unique about him, but it is worth noting. So on a remote island, washed up and pummeled with a monsoon?

Not his scene.

“Nathan!” He keeps screaming, even though Nathan has yet to yell back. He’s worse than a lost dog, because at least lost dogs come when their name is called. Nathan just wanders.

And yet, Sam keeps shouting.

It’s been hours now. The dark clouds have thinned out, revealing light gray underneath. The sun is flirting with the horizon, but Sam imagines it might be another hour or so before they’re making out. The rain has tapered off, at least for the time being, reduced to a gentle mist. The ground is sodden, Sam’s boots sinking with every step, and plants drip with the remnants of the storm.

“Nathan!”

Sam must have walked halfway across the island by now. He’s taking the long way - running the perimeter of the island - in the hopes that Nathan is still on the beach. But at this rate, the likelihood of Nathan staying on the shore is getting slimmer and slimmer. More than once, Sam wonders if he should just give up and move inland. He could find a high cliff and signal for Nathan. That could definitely work. And it’s tempting, because once Sam reached the top, he could sit down and wait for Nathan to come to him.

But if Nathan was injured in the crash, he may not have left the beach at all. And the risk that Nathan is hurt and in need of assistance is greater than the relief that Sam would feel knowing that he doesn’t have to keep walking.

“Nathan!”

Sam is tired. He’s so, so tired, from his skin to his spleen to his skull. The crash roughed him up a bit, and dragging his ass to shore was no picnic either. And now, going on hour six (seven?) of searching, Sam is worn to the bone.

But that doesn’t stop him. When he spots the cove - when he spots his brother, collapsed on the ground - Sam breaks into a sprint.

“Nathan!” He slides to his knees, shaking Nathan’s shoulders. “Wake up!”

Nathan’s eyes snap open, looking at Sam like Sam just stole his Gameboy. (And Sam would know. He stole Nathan’s Gameboy back in ‘81. Legend has it, Nathan is still looking for it.) “Sam?”

“Yeah, dumbass. Don’t recognize your own brother?”

“Shut up,” Nathan groans, pushing himself up. He blinks a couple times, rolling his shoulders and wincing. “Where are we?”

Sam tries to bury his worry with wit and sarcasm. “Uh, did you smash your brain in?” And Sam tries to subtly check Nathan’s head for any sign of that. “Remember? The crash? Shoreline? Libertalia?”

This seems to strike a chord. “Ah. Yeah. Right. That place.” He sighs but makes no move to stand up. “I was looking for you, and then I… fell.”

“Fell?” Sam looks up, but the cove is mostly covered. “Fell from where?”

Nathan points up at a hole in the natural ceiling. “Cliff. Up through there.”

“Jesus, Nathan.” Sam curses. “You're lucky you're not dead.”

“Oh, yeah, lucky me,” Nathan groans. “Death would’ve been the kinder mercy.”

“Any chance you found Libertalia before you swan dived off a cliff?”

Nathan’s unamused expression tells Sam everything he needs to know.

“Okay, fine. No Libertalia. Yet. Are you…? Can you walk?”

“I think so?” It’s a question, not a statement.

“Well, let’s try, huh?” Sam tries to keep upbeat, because Nathan kind of looks like shit. The odds of him being out of commission are decent.

“Yeah, okay.”

Sam takes hold of Nathan’s left arm, but even touching it makes Nathan yelp. He drops the arm like it’s broken glass that is also on fire and covered in acid.

“What? Is it broken?”

Nathan grabs his shoulder, cringing in pain. “Uh, I don’t�� I don’t think so.”

“Well then what? Broken ribs? Did you get stabbed or something?”

Nathan shakes his head, carefully pulling his shirt collar down past his shoulder. The drenched henley is happy to accommodate. “Oh. Um. Yikes.”

And “oh, um, yikes” is right. Because Nathan’s left shoulder is lower than the right, an unnatural bump under his skin.

“You idiot. You dislocated it.”

“Damn, sorry. I’ll get your permission next time,” Nathan spits.

Sam doesn't have the energy to argue. He just sighs and yanks Nathan’s shoulder back into place.

“Shit!” Nathan screams. He grabs his shoulder protectively and mutters more curses under his breath. “Warn a guy,” he hisses.

“I needed you relaxed. You always tense up when you dislocate something.”

“Dude, that was one time.”

“And you tensed up, and I couldn't get your arm back in, so who's fault is that?”

Nathan sighs. Mutters a few choice swear words. 

“Gonna live?” Sam watches his brother carefully. He’s still pale.

But Nathan nods. “It’ll hurt like hell for a while, but I’ll make it. Help me up.”

So Sam grabs Nathan’s right arm and pulls him up. Nathan brushes the sand from his clothes and uses his belt to sling his arm. “C’mon,” Nathan says, heading inland. “Time to find a lost pirate civilization.”

[badxsshottiexllie]

@spoocys-glade-of-dreams

The group listened with great interest as Murfy talked about each of the High Council members. Both the leader and co leader of the group did not expect him to have such vital information on him. This would definitely be super helpful to them in the future!

What caught Ellies attention, however, was The Hunter and The Emperor. The Hunter, had access to super scopes, which allowed portals to open in different dimensions. The Emperor...well...he was the true leader of Eden so he was obviously a huge deal out of all the High Council members.

"I should be considered extremely lucky that I've never run into The Hunter. It's horrible that people come here, regardless if they want to or not, and their subjected to the cruel fate of Eden. But I don't think I've come here from dimensional travel, but rather time travel."

"Whats brought this on all of a sudden? You never mentioned this before?" Kiki asked, rather puzzled by this revelation.

"It's not suddenly, it's been since New Years...Rayman joked that based on what I described, that where I originally came from sounded like Pre-Eden. I thought back, and I remembered that a company called Eden reached out to me for a job opportunity. They were based in Washington D.C."

"I declined because I was busy with other clients for my Industrial Design job at the time. Although...this Emperor guy sounds really familiar to me. Like I've seen him somewhere before..." The redhead paused for a moment, trying to think back to when she had seen the leader.

"Oh my god...It's been so long but....I know where I've seen him...I flew into Washington D.C. from New York for a business trip. I was...a hot mess that day. Actually, everything leading up to that point was horrible. I didn't get much sleep the night before, so rather than snoozing my alarm for five minutes to get a little extra sleep, I accidentally turned my alarm off."

"I only had an hour until my presentation that day, so I ended up skipping breakfast that day just so that I'd have time to get into my business casual attire, put some makeup on, and put my hair into a nice bun. Oh, and of course to where I'd have to do my presentation at."

"When I close to where I needed to be, I noticed that there was this big crowd. So rather than continuing to my destination, I decided to check to see what the fuss was about because priorities. There was this guy in a mask that was rambling on about how no one should live in fear and that everyone should work together in peace."

"While that was great and all, my attention was mainly on this limbless guy that was there at the time. His hair kind of reminded me of pasta."

*Rayman started to laugh in delight as Ellie picked him up and twirled him in her hold. He would plant a kiss onto her cheek and hugs her close. Once they had their moment, Rayman would lead Ellie back over to where the others were meeting. Murfy asks Raymona to present "The file" and she slaps a large file onto the table. Murfy would begin going through it and pulling out pictures and papers. These pictures had figures in masks similar to the board of directors, but their robes were much more lavish. Each picture had papers clipped to them.

The Emperor, The Hunter, The Concubine, The Alchemist, The Warrior, and The Mourning King. There was also a file for the Rayman imposter.

Rayman would pick up the one with The Emperor. He would stare at the picture for the longest time.*

"I... I knew the Emperor. Or, at least, I thought I did. Found me fresh out of college. He said he was giving me a sort of apprenticeship. I would watch him interact with the people. He got me my job with the board. He's the whole reason I became the voice.

We had similar goals. We wanted to see a world where no one had to live in fear. A world where everyone could work together in peace. I would be introduced to the other members of the High Council. Through the warrior and with the blessings of the Emperor, I became the voice of Eden. Chief Reporter. My face appeared all over Eden and everyone grew to trust me."

"In reality, you were his chief propeganda officer. They used you. The Emperor knows a friendly face is easier to rake in willing participants than a cruel one. In a cruel world like this, they gravitate towards the kinder leaders... Not all of them are legitimate. The Emperor's not as kind as he makes himself out to be in the public eye. That's for damn sure. The Emperor knows a kind and friendly face works in your favor in this world.

Allow me to introduce you to the members of the High Council, guys. The Emperor is the true leader of Eden and thanks to Rayman here, I don't have to go too much further into detail. The other members of the High Council have control over certain aspects of the city.

The Hunter is considered the most dangerous member under The Emperor himself. I like calling them The Emperor's lapdog. Highly loyal. Would never dare betray him. Also a guy surrounded in complete mystery. I still don't know too much about them yet. I just know that they have a lot of crazy powers that help with their job. Temporary invisibility, skills in various weapons and a lot of survival skills. They are called the hunter because we are nothing but prey for them to hunt down and capture. Bodyguard, Lapdog, Pet, and The Emperor's right hand guy. They say if you encounter The Hunter, you'd be lucky to stay alive.

They are in charge of a lot of the science stuff. Labs, the garden center was made because the hunter approved of it. But they're also the reason Eden has super scopes. They would use the scopes to raid other dimensions. People would flee here or become displaced. They would then be at the mercy of the hunter and their forces. They would track them and begin placing them either at work, or in the labs for experimentation. I'd argue that they're the reason the slave trade is as big as it is. Most Medical documents within the city are forwarded to them. My boyfriend, Floyd, forges a lot of them for his patients and sends the copies off to them. He's also puttin' his neck on the line for Eden right now. He might not be an official member of my group, but he does help out when we need it. The Hunter cannot be swayed. Too brainwashed. Too Loyal. No chance at getting them on our side.

The Concubine is in charge of most of the clubs within Eden and has a tight grip on all the sex workers. The United of Eden is under her juristiction but the boss has ties with me. Now that the Hoyt situation was dealt with, it should finally be free from any danger. The Concubine is someone I think might be swayed in the event power shifts in the council. Out of all the Council Members, she actually tries to keep her juristictions safe. She does go out of her way to protect the clubs and her workers. Nice lady.

The Alchemist controls the food and beverage productions. He's the one that keeps the groceries stocked. He's the reason we have products like cobra juice and Rayman Kid line of juice boxes. They say he's got file cabinets of all the secret recipes for all the products produced in the city. He's another that may have a chance at changing his tune in the event of a power shift in the council. He's kind of a meek guy honestly. Guess he's more of a scholar than he is a fighter.

Then there's The Warrior. He's in charge of a lot of the entertainment around Eden. He's especially fond of things like wrestling, boxing, or martial arts programs. The Board of Directors were under him. The Board handled stuff for him while he focused on council matters. Anything that shows on Radio or Television goes through them. A lot of programs were manditory viewing and we get a fine if we don't watch them, but let's be honest. They aren't too pressed if you miss an airing or not. They have bigger things to worry about. It's not a fine they have full focus on extorting. The Warrior is someone I'm not too sure could dip if the power shifts. A few of my leads are saying he could, some say he won't.

Then there's the Mourning King. The Mourning King is like the puppet voice of the Emperor himself. He'll announce and finalize the laws the Emperor makes. The Emperor doesn't make very many public appearances anymore and was replaced by this guy. Another Character cloaked in mystery for us. A very devoted worker. Takes his job very seriously. Seems to enjoy it actually. He's unfortunately one that may not be swayed if something happens. He's probably going to remain loyal to The Emperor."

[randomhl-vraifam]

So if you haven't seen @gryphsdeadbones and his incredible Gordon Cubed AU... go check it out, please. It's literally so fucking good, and you can read the comic @gordoncubed.

I asked if I could write something for this AU, and got the go ahead, so here we are! It was inspired by this ask and this ask, just in case anyone needs context for what's happening.

Anyway, uh... yeah. Here's a thing.

If you had told Gordon Freeman that, somewhere in the universe, there existed multiple versions of himself, each from very different dimensions, he might have actually believed you. He was a theoretical physicist, after all. The unknown and hypothetical was kind of his area of expertise.

However, if you had told him that his alternates were… like this? That he might have had a hard time believing. He was absolutely blown away by how much those two could talk. They did it constantly! Freeman wasn’t sure if they knew how to not talk. He considered, more than once, finding tape in one of the abandoned offices and sealing both their mouths shut.

He thought he’d be relieved if either of them decided to shut up.

Until one of them did.

Feetman (he still didn’t know what was up with that name) had been dangerously close to dying. Not that any of them were exactly safe from dying, but Feetman had ended up being a little closer to death than Freeman wanted to think about. He found himself wishing Feetman would talk more. If only to ensure that he was still conscious.

And he found himself wishing Freemind would talk less. A lot less.

It was almost as though the man felt the need to talk through the silence Feetman wasn’t filling. And he did so. Very obnoxiously. Normally, Freeman would tell him to knock off his shit, but he had a feeling that Freemind was just as nervous as he was, and the only outlet he had was talking. Freeman let it slide.

If you asked Freemind, he’d tell you that he gave absolutely no fucks about Feetman. He didn’t give a fuck about either of these idiots, aside from the fact that they were somewhat useful in getting through this hellhole. Except one of them was now considerably less useful.

Not only was Feetman less useful, he was a hindrance. Freemind didn’t like slow progress. He liked efficiency. He liked getting shit done. Dragging Feetman’s dumb ass around was not effecient and it wasn’t getting shit done. The guy seemed like he was almost always on the verge of collapsing.

So if he suggested that Feetman sit the fuck down, it was for the sake of making sure the idiot didn’t pass out and further impede their progress. Not because it bothered him to see the guy struggling to stand up straight. Because he didn’t give a fuck.

It’d gotten better after a couple of days, but only by a narrow margin. They weren’t having to stop as often, but Freeman was still adamant that Feetman not take any shifts on night watch, which Freemind found annoying as hell. He kept that opinion to himself, though. The silent member of the trio didn’t seem willing to compromise on the matter, and Freemind wasn’t willing to try and make him.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t pissed off about it. Freeman could see Freemind getting more and more agitated. He snapped more often, and in more hurtful ways. There were only so many times Freeman could tell him to shut up, eventually Freemind got around to talking again.

Freeman didn’t mind stopping for Feetman when he needed it. More often than not, Freeman would have to put a hand on his left shoulder to stop him, to make him take a break. Every time, Feetman would say that he could keep going, even if he was on the verge of falling over. He hadn’t needed to stop during his first run, he’d insist, he didn’t need to stop now.

So when Feetman hesitantly grabbed his arm, Freeman stopped, immediately worried that his counterpart needed him for balance.

“Hey, uh…” Feetman looked at him blearily behind bent frames. Freeman was sure all of their glasses were damaged at this point. His own lenses were cracked. “Can we- I hate to ask, but…” He trailed off, seeming to lose his train of thought.

Freeman steadied Gordon with one hand, then quickly signed, “Do you need to stop?”

Feetman nodded. “Yeah, I think- should probably… yeah. Gordon, uh, hurt.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, are you serious?” Freemind groaned, clearly in one of his more irritable moods. “We’re never gonna get anywhere like this!”

Deciding to ignore Freemind, Freeman ushered their limbless counterpart to a nearby room. This wasn’t a part of Black Mesa he’d frequented, so he wasn’t exactly sure what the room was for. Peeking inside, it looked like a lab of sorts. The broken bunsen burners were a pretty good indication that this particular lab had worked with chemicals.

The room looked safe enough to hunker down for a few minutes, and he needed to check on Feetman’s arm. Probably wouldn’t hurt to check under Freemind’s eyepatch, too. He was fairly certain no one had been in there aside from a couple of aliens, considering none of the lights were on, and the cabinets that might have contained anything useful were closed.

Downside, there was probably gonna be a lot of chemical spills. Upside, there was probably a medical kit.

Feetman stopped before going in. “Why are the lights out in there?”

Freeman heard Freemind scoff behind him, but he flicked the light switch, and Feetman relaxed considerably. Freemind grew increasingly agitated as Freeman searched the room for a medical kit. “Why the fuck are you babying him? We need to move!”

Freeman pulled the lab’s medkit off the wall, tempted to throw it at Freemind, but restrained himself. “Let me see your eye.”

“Nah,” Freemind said. “I’m all good. Not gonna bitch about a stupid injury like some people.”

“Fuck you, man,” Feetman muttered. He winced as Freeman started pulling off his bandages, and waved off the signed apology.

Freemind snorted. “Yeah, no thanks.” He kicked at a pile of broken glass that had most likely been a beaker at some point. “If he’s gonna be fucking useless or whatever, then the two of us should scope the area. Make sure there’s nothing around.”

It wasn’t a bad idea, exactly, but Feetman immediately froze at the suggestion. “Uh- I don’t…” Freeman raised an eyebrow, but continued to change the bandages on what was left of his arm. He had a feeling that Feetman didn’t want to be by himself for any extended period of time. Couldn’t blame him, really.

“What?” Freemind snapped, “Gonna bitch about being alone, too?” Feetman averted his gaze, which was all the confirmation Freemind needed to know that he was right. “What are you, six? Man up.”

Freeman shot him a glare. “Go by yourself.”

Freemind scowled. “Are you stupid? I’m missing an eye! Can’t see shit coming from my left.”

“Then stay in here and stop complaining,” Freeman signed. Freemind wasn’t sure how he managed such a clipped, irritated tone with his hands, but the mute managed. He might have been something close to impressed if he wasn’t so pissed off.

“Fine,” Freemind spat. “Whatever. Don’t listen to the smartest person on the team.”

Feetman’s face scrunched in thought. “Aren’t we… like, the same person?”

“No. Because I’m better.” Freemind leaned against the wall. “Honestly, you guys are so lucky to have me around. You’d probably both be dead if I wasn’t here.” Freeman had the audacity to roll his eyes. “Something to say?”

Freeman, of course, said nothing. Freemind couldn’t decide if he could take the silence as a win or not. He couldn’t argue with someone that wouldn’t--or couldn’t--talk back, and he couldn’t win an argument they weren’t having. How was he supposed to prove he was better if Freeman wasn’t even giving him the option?

So Freemind, bored and irritated, did the only thing he could think to do: push every button until something happened. “How long are you gonna play nursemaid? I’ve got better things to do than waste away in this hellhole.”

“You’re not the only one who wants to go home, man,” Feetman said. “You’re just the only one complaining about it all the time.”

Freeman suppressed a laugh as he finished wrapping Feetman’s arm. He could see Freemind getting huffy in his peripheral, but paid it no mind. The guy had largely been all bark and no bite during this whole ordeal, although Freeman didn’t doubt the guy had started a few fights in his time. He’d probably start one now if it weren’t for the fact that they needed each other for survival.

Freemind wasn’t all bad (it was pretty damn close to all, though). Freeman had seen the softer side of him, hidden under about a million layers of a complex superiority/inferiority complex. He’d tried toughing it out the first day after he’d lost his left eye, but by the second day he was hovering closer to Freeman and Feetman.

He had called it a strategic advantage. They could see, he could not. If he had one of them on his left, they’d be his lookout, or a sufficient meat-shield. Whichever the situation called for.

Neither of them missed the way he’d occasionally reach out to tap an arm. Or the way he’d intentionally bump a shoulder and then angrily insist that they had been in the way. They didn’t say anything about it, though. Freemind would only be an even bigger pain in the ass if they pointed it out.

Freeman was less pissed that Freemind was protecting his dignity, and more pissed that he wasn’t offering Feetman the same courtesy of not mentioning his weakness. Then again, Freemind was probably too insecure to admit he cared.

“Well, at least I’m not scared of the fucking dark,” Freemind said triumphantly. “I’ve seen you clingin’ to Freeman over there whenever the lights get dim.”

Feetman rolled his eyes, “Oh, yeah. Like you haven’t been clinging to both of us the past couple of days.”

Freemind’s face reddened. In embarrassment or anger, Freeman couldn’t be sure. “Are you calling me a coward?”

“No, but…” Feetman chuckled under his breath, quietly singing, “You are a pirate.”

“Bold words coming from the cripple of the group,” Freemind seethed. “Are we ready to go or not? I’m tired of waiting around for you fucking idiots.”

Freeman snapped the medkit closed and signed, “Then go.” Freemind glared, but didn’t move. A testament to how much he actually relied on their presence.

It was a liability. One that Freemind hated himself for having. Being dependent on people wasn’t exactly his style. Yet here he was, unable to leave this stupid room because he couldn’t leave without these two idiots. Well, he could, but he wasn’t going to.

After a few more minutes of Freeman fussing over Feetman’s missing arm, Feetman claimed that he was ready to go. Freemind thought it was about fucking time, but Freeman didn’t seem so sure.

Freemind couldn’t figure out why Freeman was being such a mother hen about all this. Usually it was Feetman doing that, which made sense, considering they guy had a kid. Freemind thought he’d be glad to have Feetman off his back about his eye and everything else, but Freeman was almost worse. At least Feetman listened somewhat, even if it was just to bicker with him. Freeman would just tell him to shut up.

He ducked out of the room while Freeman and Feetman continued a mostly one-way conversation. Ironically enough, it was Freeman doing most of the talking. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah.”

“We can stay a few more minutes, if you need to.”

“I said I’m fine, man,” Feetman said. “Or- well… as ‘fine’ as I’m gonna get.” He glanced out to the hallway. “Think his eye is okay?”

Freeman shrugged. “He’ll start complaining when he wants someone to look at it.”

Feetman nodded. “Yeah… alright. Guess we better get moving before he-”

“Will you two hurry the fuck up!” Freemind shouted from the hallway. “You morons are slower than my dead grandmother!”

A cheerful smile overtook Feetman’s face, taking Freeman by surprise. “Gordon,” he said happily, “I crave violence!”

The moment was gone before Freeman could question it. He’d learned to stop asking about Feetman’s little outbursts. They were his friends, supposedly. Something about his first run? Freeman didn’t know. And there was no telling what might trigger it, so Freeman mostly relied on context.

Like now, for instance. Even if the smile was cheerful, the words suggested Feetman was about two seconds from strangling Freemind with his remaining hand. So Freeman decided it’d probably be best to keep the two separate. At least until they both calmed down a little.

Freemind noticed Freeman’s efforts to keep them separated. He decided against pushing any more buttons, since Feetman seemed capable of talking back, despite his injury. And, honestly, how dare he talk back to a god like Freemind?

Really, he didn’t understand why Feetman was getting so worked up about everything damn thing. Freemind himself hated being a liability, so why was Feetman so insistent on being one all the fucking time? It was infuriating. Feetman should be just as on guard as he was, not overreacting about a dark room. They didn’t have time for him to be scared of every damn thing.

None of them liked the dark. So why was Feetman being such a bitch about it?

Freeman suddenly waved a hand to get his attention. “Storage area.”

Freemind grinned. “Nice! Might find some guns in there.”

“Or supplies,” Feetman added.

“Whatever,” Freemind dismissed, already shoving past him to take a look around the storage room.

Unfortunately, it looked pretty ransacked already, but the three men spread out to search through the splintered crates. Well, Freemind and Freeman did anyway. Feetman just seemed to be smashing them, for some reason. He stopped after a couple of minutes and frowned. “Why am I smashing crates?”

Freemind’s face twisted in confusion. This guy might actually be losing it. “Are you brain dead or something?” Feetman blinked at him. “Know what? Fuck it. Never mind.” Freeman was better at dealing with whatever that issue was. Apparently, Feetman’s… ‘friends’... really liked smashing crates.

The dude was seriously fucked up. Not just his arm, either.

He wasn’t finding anything useful, and was about to see if Freeman had found anything, when the lights suddenly flickered. “What the-” ‘fuck’ didn’t get a chance to leave his mouth before the room went completely dark.

For a moment, he thought he’d lost his other eye. A spike of panic tore through him at the thought of being totally blind during an alien invasion, but then remembered that he’d seen the lights flicker. It was just a power outage. His eye was fine.

“Um… guys?” Feetman called out. “Where- you guys still in here?”

Freemind started to answer back, ‘Yes, dumbass, of course we’re still here,’ but he stopped himself. Feetman needed to stop being a bitch about the dark, and here was the perfect opportunity for some exposure therapy. And if Freemind didn’t say anything, then Feetman would have to get over his thing about being alone, too.

It was two birds with one stone. If Feetman could handle being alone, in the dark, until the backup generator for this area kicked on, then everything else would be a cakewalk by comparison. Without Feetman bitching all the time, they could get out faster.

Genius plan. Foolproof. God, he was so fucking smart. And the best part was, Freeman couldn’t even ruin it. The guy didn’t talk, and his sign language was useless in the dark.

“Freeman?” Feetman tried again. “Did- did you guys leave?” Perfect. Feetman thought he was alone. Now all he had to do was stay calm and- “This isn’t funny, guys!”

Freemind raised an eyebrow, kind of a useless gesture in the dark, but it felt necessary. This wasn’t supposed to be funny. It was supposed to be productive. It was a solution to a problem. Freemind was fixing the problem. All Feetman had to do was stay calm. How difficult could it be?

He bit back a curse as he heard footsteps to his left. Freeman was trying to find Feetman! That would ruin this whole thing! Did Freeman not understand what he was trying to do here? No, of course he didn’t. Why would he? He was an idiot, just like everyone else.

“Who is that?” Feetman asked in a wavering voice. “What are you doing?!” The footsteps stopped. Freemind smiled, glad that his plan was back on track, but frowned again when he heard the unmistakable sound of the HEV suit hitting something. The wall? The floor? Did Feetman trip over something? What a goddamn moron.

Feetman had indeed hit the floor, tripping over a demolished crate in his attempt to back away from whoever was moving towards him.

Freemind wasn’t answering him. He couldn’t see Freeman. Did something happen to them? Were they okay? Was this another ambush? Did the other two set this up? They couldn’t have. Could they? Would they? He’d been betrayed by people he trusted before...

The darkness closed in on him more and more with every terrified thought that ran through his head. His arm throbbed in time with his heartbeat, which was entirely too fast and he couldn’t make it stop. He wanted to call out again, for Freeman or Freemind or anyone, but his throat closed up with panic before he could. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t breathe. It felt like he was dying. Maybe he was dying.

Freeman heard Feetman’s choked off gasp, and started moving again. He knew the approaching footsteps were going to freak Feetman out, but he needed to make sure his counterpart wasn’t injured. His eyes were starting to adjust a bit, letting him make out the barest outline of the boxes closest to him so he could move around them, but finding Feetman was an entirely different challenge.

Finally, he could see the vague shape of Feetman, on his knees and curled in on himself. He hoped the lights came back on soon. Because once he helped Feetman, he had a universal sign for Freemind that relied heavily on his middle finger. Was this his idea of a joke?

Feetman was hyperventilating, mumbling incoherently as Freeman slowly knelt down next to him. He tapped the floor lightly in hopes that Feetman would understand that this was a friend. Not an alien or a soldier, not a threat. But Feetman didn’t seem to register it, if anything, he only seemed to panic more.

After a few seconds of Freeman trying desperately to come up with a solution, the fluorescent lights whirred back to life. Freemind was standing on the other side of the room, looking almost annoyed at the situation. Then he saw Feetman collapsed on the ground, and his expression softened into something resembling concern.

“Whoa, the fuck?” He made his way over to his two alternates, wondering where the hell his plan went wrong. “What the hell’s wrong with him?”

Freeman sliced a hand across his throat, the unofficial sign for ‘cut that shit out’, then signed, “Help him.”

Freemind suddenly felt very out of his element. How the fuck was he supposed to help? “Hey, uh…” He cleared his throat nervously.

Nervously? Since when did he get nervous?

Maybe since he’d unintentionally plunged someone into a panic attack.

Shut up, he scolded himself. He was Gordon ‘Freemind’ Freeman. He didn’t make mistakes. He just… miscalculated. A little. Not enough to count as a failure.

“Listen, just- just calm down, it’s… the lights are back on, okay? You can stop freaking out.” There. Facts. Feetman hated the dark, and now there was no more dark.

“Shut up,” Feetman said in a strangled voice. “Sh-shut the fuck up.”

Hm. Okay. That was bad, Freemind was pretty sure. “Okay, well, I don’t know what the fuck you want me to do here, so I’m just gonna keep talking.” Feetman shook his head. “Yeah, I am. Because you’re so stuck in your own stupid brain that-” Freeman nudged him. “What?”

“Just talk,” Freeman signed angrily. “Don’t be an asshole.”

“Alright, alright, alright,” Freemind huffed. “Listen, I didn’t… I didn’t know the dark was gonna fuck with you that bad. I thought you’d, like, get over it. Which you didn’t. And that’s bullshit, but whatever. Next time I won’t do that.”

Feetman tensed. “Next time?” He asked frantically, “What- there’s gonna be a next time? I can’t-”

“What? No!” Freemind exclaimed. “That’s not what I meant, you- fuck.” He looked to Freeman for help. “Any other great ideas?”

Freeman didn’t know. On reflex, he reached out to put a hand on Feetman’s arm. Of the three of them, Feetman was probably the most touch-oriented. He knew his mistake as soon as his hand grazed the HEV suit, Feetman immediately recoiling, eyes wide with fear .

“Get away from me!” Freeman started to pull back, realizing too late that this was the wrong arm to touch in the moment. But before he could apologize, pain exploded across the right side of his face. He could see Feetman scrambling backwards through the stars in his eyes. Feetman really packed a punch.

“What the fuck’s wrong with you?!” Freemind yelled. “Why’d you do that, Freeman was trying to help, dumbass!”

He shook his head to get Freemind’s attention. “It’s fine. I shouldn’t have scared him.” He should have known better. He should have made sure Feetman was okay first. He refused to blame Feetman for lashing out during such a vulnerable moment.

The panicked haze in Freeman’s eyes cleared a bit. “F- fuck, I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t-” Freeman shook his head, assuring Feetman that he was fine. “What happened? You… the lights went out and I couldn’t- you weren’t…”

Freeman glanced at Freemind, having more or less the same question. “Why didn’t you say anything when the lights went out?”

Freemind at least had the decency to look… guilty? The expression was so foreign on Freemind’s face that Freeman almost didn’t recognize it. “I was- I had this plan.” He stopped like he expected to be interrupted, then continued when he realized that Freeman and Feetman were still listening, “I thought you were kinda overreacting about the dark and shit. So I was trying to help you, like, get over yourself. And that didn’t, uh… that didn’t work.”

Feetman wheezed. “You- you’re an idiot.” He rubbed his eyes under his glasses. “Why the fuck did you think that would work? That’s the stupidest-”

“Shut up.”

“-thing I have ever heard in my-”

“Feetman, so help me god, I will turn these lights back off.”

“-entire fucking life,” Feetman finished. Freemind grumbled, but otherwise held his tongue. Feetman then turned to Freeman and winced. “Jesus, man, your face. I’m real sorry about that.”

Freeman shrugged. “I’ve had worse. It was my fault, anyway.” Feetman didn’t look convinced, biting his lip and holding his right arm tight to his chest. He figured now was probably a better time to ask, “Do you want a hug?”

“No,” Feetman said. Then, after a moment, “Maybe… yeah.” He glanced at Freemind. “As long as the resident pirate isn’t gonna be a dick about it.”

Freemind narrowed his eye. “Shut up.” But despite the venom in his voice, he leaned against Feetman’s left side. “Don’t say another word.”

Freeman slung an arm around Feetman, giving him a reassuring squeeze that neither of them could feel, but it was the thought that counted. Feetman almost immediately relaxed into the embrace, quietly muttering a word Freeman didn’t recognize, “Pog.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Freemind asked. “No, actually, I don’t care. I hate it. Don’t ever say that again.”

Feetman laughed again, lightly bickering with Freemind until all three of them were ready to go. There wasn’t much they could salvage in the storage area, unfortunately, but hopefully they’d find something later.

Freemind didn’t make another comment about Feetman’s fear of being alone or in the dark. If you asked him, he’d say that Feetman bitching about the dark was marginally more productive than him being collapsed on the floor. Again, it was all just survival.

And if anyone said that they saw him quietly talking to Feetman at night, distracting him from the dark and the pain in his arm until he fell asleep, that person was a goddamn liar.

[sparrowshrike]

Transformers: The Ties That Bind: Family Matters part 2

Ties that Bind by @artsy-hobbitses @tiesthatbind-tf

Simon woke up to the smell of eggs, bacon, and cheese, someone was making omelets, or breakfast burritos. Suraya, Lara, and Ramiro had purchased an apartment for the two to stay in while they get back on their feat. Simon sat up on the bed, Naomi was right next to him, her face was buried into her pillow. Their robotic limbs were removed, which meant Simon was lacking arms, and Naomi was limbless. Simon kissed Naomi on the back of her neck before calling his arms. Their limbs were controlled via a chip in the back of their spines, His arms and Naomi’s limbs were right next to their dresser. Simon’s arms pushed away from the wall, landed on their fingers, and then scurried over to their owner. Simon placed what remained of his elbows into the receptacle's. Simon flexed his arms.

“So... Legs first or Arms first?” Simon asked the limbless ninja

“Arms, please” Naomi yawned, Simon grabbed her arms from the shelf and place at her sides. Naomi, unlike him, got sockets graphed into her stubs, so she could just snap her limbs on. As Soon As soon as she attached her arms, she turned around and pulled in Simon for a kiss, Simon rapped his arms around her and lifted her off the bed, still holding that kiss. He spun around and then lowered her down onto her legs. They let go of the kiss and got dressed.

They walk out toghether, much to the amusement of the others. Ramiro is manning the stove, Suraya is listening to the morning paper, and Lara is eating her omelet, made with extra love. Ramiro opens the microwave and removes a plate with two large burritos and in it and slides it across the table to Simon and Naomi. Clearly, they were expected up earlier.

“Morning Lovebirds.” Suraya said, taking a sip of coffee

“Seriously, Thank you for flying in, I’m not sure we’d be here without you guys” Naomi said

“Think nothing of it Pajarito, You are parts of this pack” Ramiro said “I’m just glad it’s over, and that bastard Silas finally got what was coming to him”

“Though now that it is over, it has just occurred that yesterday began harvest season, and our departure had left the Donavan's shorthanded already.”

‘Then we help.’ Simon thought, and the entre kitchen turned to him. ‘I did again didn’t I?’

“H-How?”

‘The running theory is that I have telepathy like Bibi, and when we’re in close proximity, we amplify each other, allowing for projection, not just reception’ Simon said ‘either way, can we come help?’

* * *

“Absolutely!” Hale yelled over the phone “We could use all the help you can bring”

“Great, cause we’re pulling up now” Simon said, the group took a direct flight from Buffalo to Tingwall airport, then rented a car to drive to Farm.

“You shouldn't've Done That, okay, make sure Ramiro and Lara are seen first” Hale said, it sound like he was simultaneously worried, and about to burst out laughing. “Be seeing you” Hale hung up and booked it out to the fields, before his mother threatened an outlier with a Pitchfork.

And when he saw them, that was exactly what she was doing, Simon had his arms raised in a surrender, Lara and Ramiro were hanging back, seeing what Simon would do, and Suraya was right behind Simon.

“Now Mrs. Donavan” Simon spoke up “Can you please out down the pitchfork, we were invited by Ho-Hale.” Simon then spotted the Wulver running across the fields “See?”

Mrs. Donavan did not alleviate her gaze from the stranger.

“Ma! They’re friends, put down the dang pitchfork!” Hale exasperated, before slowing down and catching his breath. “They’re here to help with the harvest.”

“Oh! Well why didn’t you say so?” The Matriarchs demeanor immediately changed to happy-go-lucky in a snap. “C’mon, Faolan is waiting” she tried to move her pitchfork, and she felt a tug. “What in the name of-”

Naomi materialized into sight, “Insurance, Ma’am. You did threaten my boyfriend with a weapon” She let go of the pitchfork with a shrug. The Group walked towards the house, Hale’s father waited in the entrance, shear in hand.

“I presume this was the fire?” Faolan asked, a certain gruffness in his voice

“Sorry Pa, I was worried that...” Hale searched for a way to neither offend his Mother or make his guests look bad in his father’s eyes. “They’d lose their way” Hale Shrugged, Faolan wasn’t concerned enough to care that his son just lied to him.

The group was put to work, Lara was sent out to retrieve the baskets or Wool and Greens that the other workers were making, Ramiro was on shearing duty. Simon was sent out to deal with a really nasty Pricker Bush that had grown uninvited on the property, considering he could grab it without harm, Naomi was sent out to harvest the vegetables, given her extensive experience with cutting fast and accurately. And Lastly, Suraya was with Hale, weaving the wool into thread. Hale brought in each basket of wool and then fed it into the machine, while Suraya listened and felt for any errors. Hale decided while he was at it, he catch up about what he’s heard.

“So, Simon’s yours ey?” Hale asked, Suraya stopped for a second, but then resumed their task.

“He is my biological offspring yes, and I am happy to be his Bibi” Suraya said, suspicious where Hale was taking this

“So do you know who they spliced you with?”

“No, Simon says he’s not important, And I trust his judgement.”

“Well aren’t you curious?”

“Hale, if you are about to suggest we interrogate my son, you better be ready for a cane.” Suraya warned

“I would never!” Hale laughed “Let’s make it a game, see how much we know about this mystery man. I’ll start, we know he’s Caucasian and has red eyes” 

“No, Simon has his Grandmother’s eyes.” Suraya corrected him, a tint of nostalgia in her voice. 

“Neat, we also know-”

“Hale, Simon felt that if I knew who his father was, I would be able to look at him the same, So until he feels ready to tell me, Drop it.” Suraya said

“Yes Ma’am” Hale said without an ounce of Humor “Ahem, so what of the invisible girl?”

“Naomi, you’ve actually met her before, She’s Nightbird.”

“Ah Yes, My Jaw remembers her fondly” Hale said, rocking it from side to side “Was I right?”

“About What?

“Back when you first found Simon, he kept trying to escape you guys. none of you knew why, Not even him, Lara asked what I made of it, and I said “Even if his brain has forgot, perhaps his heart hasn’t”.”

“You thought he loved someone there”

“Was I right?”

“Yeah, He and Naomi tried to escape toghether, but only Simon got out. He left her behind, he was trying to go back for her. But he didn’t even remember her, How?”

“My parents always told me, “A Heart never forgets”.”

“Your lucky to have them.”

“And Simon and Naomi are lucky to have you”

“Thanks Hale.”

I promise, there will be Windscream in the next chapter, I just keep getting distracted.

[japiform]

Helmsman: Wake up somewhere new

Grand: You are doing more paperwork, fuckin kill you with a culling fork. More and more and more and you satisfy yourself by reading one, telling the sleeping psion the joke that is these assholes requesting aid, and write 'Fuck Off' in big spiky letters across the whole thing. That goes in the Done pile. Next paper, type a moment to research what the fuck they're even talking about, because you stopped hiring motherfuckers to know more details than you when they kept fucking dying or leaving. Getting exiled. Whatever.

Your typing hand leaves the husktop to run over the fuzz of the psion's warm fragile skull while you read some more shit, strike out some more shit, and sigh. "Motherfuck, I need a vacation," you mutter, and it's a joke because this is about as close as you GET to a damn vacation, but not a joke funny enough for you to laugh. You look up round the room, all the medicullers absent save the one you successfully disarmed (okay, that one you'll laugh at), and he's dead the fuck asleep. Everything's in white, save the floor which is a multihued stain down to the drain in the center of the room, though it is mostly subtle variations of purple. Not a lot of offcolor fucks that you consider WORTHY of gettin tended to, after all.

This helm don't know how lucky he has it.

Helmsman: Stirring, your hornbeds crackle with power as the sedatives start wearing off. The dull, fullbody pain makes you groan under your breath and squinch your eyes tight, before it fades and you can settle again. 

It occurs to you that you're being touched, but you don't sense any animosity from it, which is strange and new. Along with this feeling of not-bad is the voice you recognize. The one that makes you feel. Not-bad. 

Your blue eye creaks open to survey your surroundings, and you grimace at the white, zapping the troll next to you to get their attention. 

"Hey. Can'ya turn off th'lights? Ssbright." Grumble.

Grand: The crackling of his horns takes a moment to register, the groan less so. You finish writing Fuck Off on this next illustrious waste of tree pulp, running your off hand down his nug til you get to the base of it before you withdraw--Just in time to get zapped. You let out a curse that's actually just a verse of your most holy of texts (elixirs 5:18; pour one out for you, your blood is paint yet to be spilled), and bare your teeth at him, eyes flashing with menace. 

Oh. He's just waking up. 

“Poor motherfucker," you croon, and it's a mocking tone that you speak in. But what the fuck ever, you can stand for a break. You turn off the lamp closest to him, shut your husktop with a finite click, and captchalogue the stack of important papers that you've filled out. ... Oh, and the not done ones too, if for no other reason than state secrets or whatever the fuck.

Helmsman: "Thenks." Your voice is rough from both overuse and underuse, and you clear your throat a few times before swallowing a little bit of blood. Gross.

Blinking your eyes open, you take a better look at the room around you, and then up at the troll looming over you.

"Oh sshit." Oh shit is right, because if you aren't mistaken, that's the fucking Grand Highblood. In the flesh.

"Sso. Are you the personification of the Angel of Death, or am I hallucinating?"

Grand: "You fuckin flatter me," you say, batting your lashes a bit. "Either that, or you're hallucinatin, cuz I ain't been called angelic in a while." Your hands are to yourself, but you know the sound of a fucked up voice when you hear one. You wonder if you'll have to shove a tube in his mouth to get him to take somethin from you, or if he'll take it just to make you stop botherin him.

... But you also take the chance to look him over. Mostly just his face, which has the capacity for expression now, and is therefore finally actually interesting. "So surprised to see me? I told you I'd help."

Helmsman: You look confused, and a bit upset, like you'd had a present ripped away from you. "Then... I'm not dead." Thin eyebrows furrow and you attempt to sit up, which is hard when your arms feel invisible. After a bit of struggle, you flop back down heavily, hissing at the pain. The light in your eyes seems to pulse, like you're trying to focus. "The- the data..?"

Grand: "Not a fuckin clue." This is definitely about to get spicy, and you don't grin. But you want to. You want to rub your 'i told you so' in his moronic fucking face. "You ain't dead. You're limbless and on my ship, after you tried to fire up a single fuckin cannon and immediately fainted. Whether you managed ta finish transmittin your entire self into the space between helms, i ain't got an iota of an idea. But I told you that you didn't have to shoot me, that i would wait for you to get your business done. So I don't know that I feel like that's my problem."

Helmsman: "Limbless." Yeah, that explains why your arms feel invisible. You failed. After everything you did.

After all that pain and hard work just for it to fail. You're silent as you process this, before your eyes grow damp. You can't even wipe the frustrated tears away, so you curl away from the clown so you can cry with a little bit of fucking dignity.

God your life goddamn SUCKS. The sobs hurt as they rip out of you but you can't make them stop, thin frame heaving. He should have let you die. You shouldn't have told him anything. God you're so stupid!

Grand: ... Oh.

You expected this motherfucker to fight. To flare up bright, like you saw he could do in the ship, like you know he could do as a ship. The fight wouldn't do much good, him limbless and you your powerful, merciless self, but you woulda had fun trying to take him out without takin him all the way out.

You look over him, crying, weeping and just barely able to turn away from you, and you feel

something.

Fuck knows what.

"For fucks sake, we doin this shit?" you snap, and you think it should have come out a little harsher, a little louder. Or maybe you should be laughing, perhaps. No motherfucker would be surprised to hear you laugh.

"Like I ain't the most powerful motherfucker this side of the damned universe. Where the shit are your files or what the fuck ever."

Helmsman: Shaking your head, you laugh through the tears, a mirthless, harsh noise. "Where the fuck do you think they are?"

Crying is such a relief, though. Like you finally can expell all the horrid feelings you've been holding close to your chest for so long. You've been ripped from your ship, sanitized, bundled up all careful in a medical cot, what more do you need to hide? What would it possibly change?

"I was always doomed. What difference does it make now."

Grand: You grit your teeth at that unrighteous sound, but what the fuck is it you can do? Where the fuck indeed. You keep your helms and your files separate, at the rate you burn through them, and why the fuck wouldn't you? But you've never thought about the logistics of how the fuck one would store themselves, never thought about how it wouldn't be in ship storage unless it was some place the fish bitch could see.

For a second, from the way you have trouble breathing, and from the way your pump aches, you think you're finally kicking it. It's only a breath, only a beat, but still enough to get your fronds all wound the fuck up in the soft silk of the hospital bed. Still enough to have you reeling.

"Well. Guess you're gonna have to stay lively long enough ta write your fuckin memoirs, ain't ya?" you say, and it's quiet, and not all that funny, and you don't know what the hell is going on. "So, let's see to that."

Helmsman: You half feel vindicated from seeing that conflicted look on GHB's features, but the other half of you feels really bad. The guy went out of his way to save your useless life, used his resources, time, and energy to pluck you specifically from death's door and sit next to you.

Memoirs he says, like that isn't a ridiculous statement to make this late in the game. How are you gonna write them without arms, you wonder. It makes you laugh again, and this time it feels better to laugh. Once the giggles have settled down, you look at the troll next to you, really look at him, yellow streaks run down your cheeks and staining the white pillow under you.

"You've been here the whole time, right?"

Grand: There you all in all your glory, thousands of sweeps old and not quite so young looking as you were when you first caught this motherfucker, wearing what amounts to your casual clothes and the tie you wear when you're feeling like you should get yourself in the head for business. Your hair has grey, your paint has a fine line or two in it, but you're still an unholy terror when you want to be, which is still fucking most of the time. 

Your hands unfist in the covers, and you roll your eyes at him, recline in the chair you stole from your office because fuck if you're gonna use a visitor's chair, you're the fucking king. "Nah, motherfucker, I got shit to do other than tend to your pathetic ass." Your ankles cross and you look up at the ceiling, casual as you fucking please. "But I been here often enough. When I ain't preachin or doin other holy shit. Medicullers just ain't made like they used to be, and some don't know how to ask first instead of puttin their knives where they ain't wanted. Can't have them makin that mistake when I went through all the trouble to nab your scrawny ass, can I?"

Helmsman: "Well. Thanks, I guess. You've got your reasons I don't doubt, but." You avert your eyes, not that he can tell. "It was better than being alone."

Okay you need to sit up Now. Cracking your neck, you test your reach with your psionics, the energy roving over the whole room as you manually adjust the power. Ugh, that feels weird. It takes a negligible amount of thought to arrange yourself a bit more upright against the pillow, and it does wonders making you feel less like you're at the mercy of circumstance. 

"... You haven't changed a bit, huh you shitty old man."

Grand: You roll that thought around your head, feel it shifting shit behind your eyes. It was better than being alone, he said. Ain't that a terrible weakness of his, that dislike of being alone? Feels like the fucking point of a wriggler's afternoon special, soft and sweet and weak as it is. Pathetic, is what it is. 

You watch him out of the corner of your eye, watch him sit himself up with power that you still don't trust not to be pressed into the flesh of you, though the thrill keeps you from locking it away tight with something or another, and you are a little impressed that he even knows how to use those when he's spent so long being sucked dry of em.

"Course I've changed. I think I've gotten taller. Definitely gotten older. I think I've killed a few more thousands of fuckers, though I might be off by a decimal point or some shit. You gotta be more specific, motherfucker, if you want to get a particular answer."

Helmsman; Scoff. "It was rhetorical, fuckhead." The residual psionics definitely is filling the air with static, and now that you've tapped into them it's increasingly hard to tamp down on them. Guess you're going to be fizzing like a carbonated beverage for the next little while. 

"I do have some questions for you though."

Grand: You bark out a laugh, as your head fills with static and your hair puffs up faintly like an angry cat. You're going to have to rub him down with fuckin drier sheets or some shit, just to get some peace and not have your papers stickin to you. 

"What the fuck else have we got to do, bitch? Go on, ask."

Helmsman: You chew on your lower lip as you think of the right way to word it. "Does Survivor know I'm alive?"

Grand: "Yep," you pop the word sharp, rocking back on your heels and two legs of the chair. More throne than chair, really.

Helmsman: Would be a shame if he were to fall backwards and hurt himself... Someone's gotta teach this guy not to lean on the back feet of chairs. He could hurt himself. What a shame. 

The front two legs slam back onto the floor, and you sneer at him. "The last thing I need is for you to suffer some kind of concussion right now."

Grand: You yelp, an unseemly noise, as your chair is forced groundways, making you a six legged shape once more. "My skull is thicker than that, for messiahs motherfuckin sake, ask your damn questions instead of fussin over my old ass, you motherfuckin limbless horror."

Helmsman: “It'd just be inconvenient, is what I'm saying. Like I'd bother fussing over you, nightmare fuel." 

This fucking guy. You shut your eyes, exhaustion hitting you like a truck all of a sudden. "Will I see her anytime soon or am I just gonna be stuck in this glass bottle forever so you can keep prodding me with sticks?"

Grand: Nightmare fuel. You like that, and it makes you chuckle different, a low bass rumble in your chest. 

"You'll see her when she comes up with a plan that her and blue think will keep me from wreckin their shit, and as soon as you can get jostled without openin up every scab you got from nose to nook, which believe me, are plentiful.. And maybe a little longer than that, dependin on your amusement ta annoyance ratios. Don't go tryinna manipulate em to your wantin, cuz I ain't gonna tell you which keeps you here longer."

Helmsman: "I'm going to be honest with you: I'm a doer not a schemer. I'd pinky promise you, but, well..." 

Shrug. 

"As long as I get to see her again." You forgot what it was like to yearn for someone, but right now it's all you can take to be away from Bastet. You were being honest earlier when you admitted you don't know how to be alone anymore.

Grand: You hear that, and you tip back in your chair again, arms crossed behind your head, and you smile. Fuck yes. "Ain't that sweet," you chirr, and it could be nice if it was anyone other than you. But you are, as he said, nightmare fuel, and you ain't particularly inclined to be anything else. 

"Give it a week or two. A perigee, tops. You'll get where you wanna be. Think you can wait that long, motherfucker?"

Helmsman: "Only been waiting the majority of my life." Sinking back into the thin blanket. "If you're going to stick around, do it goddamn quietly, for fucks' sake." 

You're starting to feel lightheaded, and want to sleep now.

Grand: A snort. "And here I thought you liked my company. You'll tolerate it or you won't, and it ain't my problem either way." 

Still, when he nestles himself down, you draw the blanket up past his damaged shoulders so he don't catch chill and kill himself on something nothin much at all. And you go ahead and take off your business garb (the polkadot tie you wear when you're deep in the shit creek that is your backed up paperwork), twirling it around your finger before you captchalogue it. "Just fuckin sleep, you're gonna need it."

Helmsman: “Don't need your permission." You bite back, already fading off into dreamland. Geez, being a sassy sourpuss takes a lot of energy.

Grand: He falls asleep to the low rumble of your laugh at his expense, amusement in the face of his fucking spite. Once he's out, you realize you forgot to make him drink, and decide you'll get on with it when he's a little more conscious. No point forcing him if he's not around to make you work for it, is there? 

You don't turn on the light for a good hour or so. You just sit back in your throne, the back legs of it worn away from just such play, and you think. And you speak a few more times, half thoughts that you don't bother to explain cuz he ain't around to ask. But mostly, you just think.

[sortanonymous]

DEN-LAC (Y): Funny how it was the Broncos of all teams that forced Herbert into the Burrow simulator.

HOU-KC (Y): Well I'm sure starting to get even more worried about Houston.

PIT-BAL (n): Sorry Pittsburgh, but this may be 2020 all over again for you guys! Have fun!

NYG-ATL (Y): A Giant punch to the Penix.

AZ-CAR (n): Remember when this team was leading their crazy-ass division like two months ago? Good times.

DET-CHI (Y): Not even all the declawed, limbless lions in the world could be as beat up as this pack of dead bears.

TEN-IND (Y): Indy got really lucky here, because if they lost, then WOW would their reputation with big leads in December be the meme of memes!

LAR-NYJ (Y): A worse record with Rodgers than they ever had with Zach Wilson, Tim Boyle, and non-2023 Joe Flacco. It speaks for itself so much that I'm feeling glad I didn't have to scramble for another plane pun.

PHI-WAS (n): It's a win-win! Daniels is starting to look like a clutch wedding legend, and since Philly's probably still winning the division anyway, he won't even have to worry about dying at their stadium like RGIII!

CLE-CIN (Y):

You're not fooling anyone, you know?

MIN-SEA (Y): I can't tell for the life of me if Minnesota's actually elite or if they're just 2022 again with an actual defense.

NE-BUF (Y): Well, I guess putting this at 4 pm could have gone worse!

JAC-LV (n): Football is more dead. (That accidental misspelling of "TANK BOWL!!!" into "TANK BWOL!!!" is exactly what this game deserved in hindsight.)

SF-MIA (Y): I don't think Shanahan and company ever wanna see this stadium again.

TB-DAL (n): Tampa's not actually out-choking the Falcons, are they?

NO-GB (Y): Just when the Aints were showing promise for next year.

Next 4 teams eliminated (12/18): Saints, Cowboys, 49ers, and Cardinals Next 2 teams clinching playoffs (9/14): Ravens and Packers

Week 16 Predictions: 11/16 2024 Predictions so far (2 weeks left): 169/232 (.728)

SortaSports' 2024 NFL Week 16 Predictions

DEN-LAC (TNF): Chargers (not looking so great early in the 3rd though)

HOU-KC (Saturday A): Chiefs (FRAUD BOWL!!!)

PIT-BAL (Saturday B): Steelers

NYG-ATL: Falcons

AZ-CAR: Cardinals

DET-CHI: Lions (I swear my mind glitched again when I put Bears)

TEN-IND: Colts

LAR-NYJ: Rams

PHI-WAS: Eagles

CLE-CIN: Bengals

MIN-SEA: Vikings

NE-BUF: Bills

JAC-LV: Jaguars (TANK BOLW!!!)

SF-MIA: Dolphins

TB-DAL (SNF): Buccaneers

NO-GB (MNF): Packers

[hongism]

okay hi. so. first of all this incredible and stunning banner was made by the talented and lovely @hobiance​! the banner at the bottom was made by the equally talented and lovely thot @franklytae​, and i’m so so grateful to both of them for helping me out with this and am really touched to have their creations on this post. now. it is absolutely unreal that i am making this post. it’s crazy to see how my blog and i have grown in the past year and a half, and im so grateful for every single one of you who follows me, whether you are an active follower or not. also this is absolutely insane because in just six months you all have made my following nearly quadruple and that’s absolutely bonkers on so many levels. while 2020 has been tumultuous for us all, i cannot argue the fact that it has been my best year on tumblr so far. 

i have been able to meet so many fantastic people, grow friendships, grow my skills as a writer, gain confidence, and i have found friendships that are so treasured and valuable in so many ways. i’m really so so grateful for this platform and for the opportunity to share my work here with you all.

i really don’t know how to verbalize how i’m feeling because on one hand, followers are just a number and it’s unimportant in the long run. on the other hand i truly am grateful for every single one off you and i want you to know how grateful i am. but i really don’t want this to be about me because i really wouldn’t be on tumblr still without the people i’ve met along the way. through tumblr i have found lifelong friends who are beautiful inside and out and i will never stop being grateful to know them and walk this path alongside them. it’s truly a blessing and i feel so so lucky to get to know them. cue the ridiculously long tags of people whom i love and cherish so so much. i apologize in advance because no matter how many times i stare at this post and try to remember and get every single person who is valuable to me, i know i will inevitable forget someone so i am very very sorry if i miss anyone.

*•.¸♡ ✧ 𝓂𝓊𝓉𝓊𝒶𝓁𝓈 ✧ ♡¸.•*

@hobicomeholla29 @thatmultifandomhoe @yoongi-sugaglider @strawbxxymilk @meowxyoong @blondenamjin​ @dee-ehn​ @a-tiny-8iny​ @atiny-dazzlinglight​ @atiny-piratequeen​ @atiny-wooyoung​ @kesmonster​ @theredcarat​ @enchantedyeo​ @seonghwabrainworms​ @jintobean​ @jinterlude​ @joonsrack​ @moonmintrails​ @inkedxclouds​ @koophoriia​ @kimcritique​ @moonpjms​ @daechwlta​ @suhdays​ @ppersonna​ @vivpurple7​ @ironicarmy​ @joopiterjoon​ @btsxdoll​ @btsbiaswreckedwriting​ @minniepetals​ @chillingtae​ @searchingtae​ @ladyartemesia​ @staerrylights​ and many others who i literally cannot for the life of me remember right when it’s important aoifdjjioejsoi some of you guys i only really talk to on discord, but i think that’s where i talk to people the most anyways. i know im really bad at following people so i may miss a few of you here and there, but know that our friendship through tumblr and discord is so valuable and important to me and im grateful for all of you 💕

*•.¸♡ ✧ 𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓉𝓈 ✧ ♡¸.•*

@yolokoo​ @franklytae

hhhhh you two little shits honestly i know i won’t be able to tell the two of you how much you mean to me because words are Hard. still i am so so lucky to know the two of you and so so lucky to be able to be friends with you two. y’all know i would swing so fucking hard for you that i would dislocate a shoulder but it would be worth in. i love you both so so much and know that no matter what paths we all take in life, i will always be here to support you and cheer you on along the way

*•.¸♡ ✧ 𝓂𝓊𝓈𝓀𝑒𝓉𝑒𝑒𝓇𝓈 ✧ ♡¸.•*

@hobiance @miamorjoon​

lainey within ten minutes of meeting you on discord i married you iajoidfoisdjfo. honestly that’s the boldest i’ve ever been, but i’m really grateful that i stepped out of my comfort zone and interacted with you because if not i would be missing out on such a crazy crackhead amazing friendship that’s filled with rats and roaches and annoying atlas bc we love her. sometimes it’s scary how similar we are but i love our late night crazy music sessions and your passion for cowboys 🐀🤠

atlas i honestly do Not remember how we met aoidjfoij pls don’t be offended i don’t remember how i meet anyone. i only remember meeting lainey because she reminded me of it the other day. but anyways i am super glad that we started talking because you’re one of tha craziest wackiest zackiest ladiez i’ve ever met and you really unleash the inner crazy in me (in a good way i swear). even though you tell me to shut up most of the time, you are seriously one of my fav writers out there and so knowing you and being your friend is seriously w o a h and a blessing for sure 🐀

*•.¸♡ ✧ 𝓈𝓅𝑒𝒸𝒾𝒶𝓁𝓈 ✧ ♡¸.•*

@jamaisjoons @honeymoonjin @ddaenggtan @cest-la-tae​ @bangtiddies​ @mygsii @mindays @luxekook @floralsuga 

oh god i hope im not forgetting anyone hhafhiuehisuda oKAY you each are super duper special to me in your own special way and i could sit here for literally hours and ramble on about how much i love each of you. the basic fact of the matter is that each of you have impacted me and my life in some way.

sol, sora, bette - i am so lucky to have been able to meet you and work alongside you and talk to you daily. it’s normally extremely hard to work with friends or make friends through work, but i got so lucky with you guys and am so blessed to get to talk to each of you and know you ((special thanks to sol for Obey Me and 7 demon daddies)) ((another special thanks to backbone bette for having the courage to speak up when no one else does)) ((one more super special thanks to miss sora who is the kindest and sweetest ball of uwu i’ve ever known and Stan the Man the Icon and the limbless basketball game story remains Iconic))

dAIJA gahhh im so lucky to know you, you are such a valuable and incredible friend. you have a huge heart and you’re always looking out for other people. as much as i love screaming about hyunjin and victon with you, i really love just getting to chat with you in general because you’re so sweet and loving :ragecry:

e m i omg i wish i could remember when we first started talking bc i feel like it was some crackhead energy but honestly i feel like we have that crackhead energy 24/7. i really love listening to your stories because you have such a knack for storytelling which duh of course you do you’re an actress you know how to tell a story, but also you are just fun and exciting to get to talk to.

renae my lovely spiritual girlfriend you are such a wholesome sweet soul on every level w o w you have a heart of gold and you are so talented and wonderful as well, truly the whole package and a half, and you are such a good friend. somehow i only recently found out that you’re a multi but having listening parties with you (even if discord doesn’t tell us we’re listening together) is so fun and i just love chatting with you

reese omg i dont appreciate how you attack me with jisung and hyunjin but we are linked because we both switched to jungkook urls aoijsdfoij you’re such a fun person to talk to and i love getting to talk to you more and getting to know you better because you’re so sweet and loving and have a love of tea that rivals emi’s and mine which is crazy

monday mondayyyyyyy omg i remember the first time we talked was in a kakao chat about the flower shop story and i was Shook because i loVE your works and you were talking about how you liked mine and i was internally p a n i c k so bad ajflkjflk but after that we started getting to know each other better and we started the bee gang then we bonded over piercings and honestly you are just such a cool gal. like wow a queen. idek what else to say other than you are so cool i wish i was half as cool as you asoifjiof but really ily lots uwu

and last but really absolutely not least, mr. beau. wow i feel like it’s been such a long time since we met and started talking to each other. you were one of the very first people i talked to on tumblr, and you welcomed me so swiftly and with open arms. i know i can really rely on you and trust you, you are such a valuable friend, and i love being able to talk with you. i am so beyond proud of you, i know both alex and i are so so proud and happy for you, and i am so proud to be able to watch you grow into the person you are and deadass im crying rn just because im so proud and lucky to have been able to talk with you and help you. you know things about me that no one else does hehe and you are truly such a valuable and wonderful friend on so many levels. i will always always always be able to say that i am proud to be your friend and proud to know you 🤧

[bulbinie]

Little Red Riding Hood

Author’s note:I’ve been writing this for so LONG AND IT TOOK SO MUCH FROM MY HEALTH♣️😩 (I tried to put a ‘keep reading’ but tumblr didn’t let me post the writing so I decided to take it off.sorry to everyone that has to scroll a lot to get to another fanfic)

Genre:tokyo ghoul au,drama,the slightest of romance(both of them are just being flirty dicks to each other)

Pair:Investigator!Bang Chan x Ghoul!Reader

Warnings:blood,gory,a lot of Hyunjin in store

Word count:4.9K

‘Another body has been found near an old construction site, reportedly of a man in his 30s. The young adult, is said to have been seen earlier that week robbing a supermarket, holding the clerk and a couple of citizens at gunpoint. The man has a criminal record for carjacking, robbery and lewd conduct in public…’

‘The bastard had it coming.’ you say cheerfully, focusing on the newly announced piece of information from the walkie talkie attached to your belt.

You had stolen the old rusty communicator a couple of months ago from the local police station. Getting called in ‘as the last person who had seen the victim’, it was shortly explained  to you that the bartender whose body was found limbless, chest wild open, was putting more than the needed stuff in the drinks.

And of course-you knew that. The moment you saw the man behind the bar spiking one of the women’s drinks, who was sitting at the bar, waiting for her beverage to get ready, and chatting in a happy-go-lucky way not suspecting a thing, you had become livid. Luring him outside in one of the dead-end streets near the bar, you listened to his screams and pleas with such satisfaction that you had gone overboard with your actions. Completely blinded by rage-the predator in you calling-you had opened him up, like a kid would do, a stuffed doll to see what’s hiding inside.

———————————————————————

Hearing a muffled cry, your gaze finally falls to the woman under your slightly hovering figure. The tentacles of the red kagune - starting at the base of your back - are tightly wrapped around her mouth to silence the screams.

‘Oh, I almost forgot about you, miss ’ you giggle softly, hitting yourself on the head, acting as if you had just forgotten something from the grocery store and not that a fragile human being was lying under your form. Most of her white coat was soaked up in blood, two small daggers that the investigator tried to use against you in a close combat fight, sunken deeply in the flesh around her shoulder area.

Balanced on your tentacles-planted firmly to the ground-you shorten the proximity between your bodies by relaxing your kagune enough, almost able to feel her ragged breath on your face.

Still smiling slightly, you delicately envelop one of the bloody daggers in your hand. At this point there are tears running down the face of the dove, her eyes screwing shut when you turn the dagger sharply, the movement making the little knife sink in even deeper.

As soon as she opens her eyes again, your expression has changed, no trace left of your breezy attitude. Your red eyes are hooded, a frown plastered on your lips.

‘I’m not going to kill you as I’m already running late because of the little stunt you pulled earlier,’ you explain with a calm tone. ‘-and I need you to be my messenger of the day, okay?’

‘Tell the new chairman of the CCG that me and the former one have a long lasting deal,’ you twist the knife again making the clothed area redden even more.’- and that I will kill every single dove I see strolling around my district and I won’t be as generous as today, got it?’ you finish with a tilt of your head and a cynical smile.

 Loosening the grip of your tentacles around her after she nods to show you that she had understood your requirements, you step back on the ground your kagune retracting from its previous spot, disappearing.

While she is trying to fix her breathing pattern, you kneel down next to her, stuffing your hand in the pocket of the white coat, fumbling a little inside. Taking out a phone you quickly send an SOS message with an exact location, throwing it once you are done, next to the dove.

‘Oh and also,’ you say while putting on your red hood, positioning the mask that strongly reminded the lying woman of a wolf face.’-tell your boss that the message is from the Little Red Riding Hood and that I’m the last person the organization wants to mess with.’

And with that you were gone, fading into the shadows.

———————————————————————

‘Did you get here so late because you had to deliver some food to grandma’s house?’ the boy you were supposed to meet 20 minutes ago, teases the moment he spots your figure approaching the old abandoned building. Smoke filled the air from the cigarettes that some ghouls had come outside to light for a quick smoke. With a few fanning motions and a couple of greetings you break through the suffocating curtain that is between you and your friend, who is leaning against the wall. Instead of answering him, you slide out your hands from the pockets of your coat, pulling them up for him to see the dry blood all over your fingers and palms. His smirk falters, a worried look appearing on his face. 

You found it cute when he got all worried for you in situations that weren’t even that serious, quickly coming to your aid when you got injured, even if it was a cut to the stomach or a bruised face that he knew was going to heal in a matter of minutes. But you were especially grateful for him when things got nastier, the ghoul always having your back, no questions asked.

‘Did someone attack you?’ he asks while hanging you a wrinkled napkin from the back pocket of his jeans.

‘They sure tried to. Too bad she was all alone, trying to fight with twin daggers.’ you laugh bitterly, starting to clean the blood off with the help of the napkin. ‘Can you believe it, Hyunjin? The old man resigns from his position and all of a sudden doves start flying in trying to hunt in our district.’

‘Maybe things would have been different if he didn’t die’ you finish off, the scenario you voice out, stopping at just that- a plot which will never unfold.

Hyunjin nods thoughtfully, stroking his chin with narrowed eyebrows. After a few seconds with no response from him he suddenly swings his arm tightly around your shoulder, pressing your hair uncomfortably under it. With that you know the boy is done worrying for the day, the big smile that appears on his handsome face, lifting up your mood a little. Trying to shake his heavy hand off your shoulder, but to not avail, you jab the tall boy right under the ribs with two fingers rapidly, which makes him shriek and laugh, letting you out of his bear-like grip. After a couple of minutes of messing around, you decide to get inside the building.

At first glance the building looks close to collapsing. No front door separated the inside of it from the dark street, the closest source of light being the street lamp at the end of the alley-almost useless considering the distance from the building and the constant flickering that it did. Inside there was no paint on the walls, the elevator that had once worked gone out of service, no electricity, no -nothing. The only thing left in the creepy place were the bad smell, tag murals all over the blank walls and of course the bar.

The underground venue was a save hang out place for a lot of the ghouls who were on the run or just wanted to relax from the craziness of the outside world. You found the description, your friend and the owner of the place-Minho, had used to introduce his new bar to you, ironic, considering that most of the chaos that he was talking about going down in the city, came from the actions of the ghouls and their habits.

‘Honestly, I’ve always wondered why Minho chose this miserable lot to start his business.’ the boy next to you points out while descending the stairs towards the basement. 

With every passing step the darkness, surrounding both of you becomes less. ‘I mean, have you seen that guy? He would do anything to save money. Of course he would pick a creepy building like this that looks like it came straight out of a crime movie. The last time he paid for electricity, was the last time the electrician that got the guts to come here, saw the outside world.’

A loud cackle comes from Hyunjin. ’Lino has some serious problems as a ghoul and a citizen of this town.’

‘Tell me about it’ you say mimicking the wide smile that is plastered on the boy’s lips.

———————————————————————

The energetic song, coming from the end of the small corridor that the stairs lead to, begins to create a giddiness in your belly. The corridor in front of you is illuminated by lamps, all in different colors, littering the polished floor like a small galaxy with its stars. The muffled beat finds its way through your ribs, the piano that is softly playing a cheerful melody in the background and the thought of all the sounds mixing together and then mercilessly crashing with your body once you have passed the bouncer, keeping you away from your final goal-makes you even more ecstatic to get in and enjoy yourself. At the door the bouncer barely looks towards your direction nodding, gesturing with his hand for you to put away your IDs that you had prepared to show, in case it was a different person at the door. With a small greeting from Hyunjin and a smile in return from the other boy, you finally enter the lounge.

The music and the soft colors that are mingling with the dark surround you, at last. Hyunjin quickly hooks his pinky with yours leading the way towards your usual spot, close to the small stage, where on most days, the hired band performed until the early hours of the day. Almost at the end of the crowd that is gathered around the bar and the round tables Hyunjin stops without a warning-causing you to crash into him and accidentally step on the back of his shoe. He turns around and swiftly wraps his hands around your waist, leaning down towards your ear to whisper something you don’t hear at first.

'WHAT' you raise your voice slightly trying to talk over the strong music beat and the voices of all the ghouls. You put my hands around his neck, bringing him even closer to your ear that way showing for him to repeat what he had said.

'I said that I forgot to tell you that there is a new pianist. I heard from Jisung that the guy with the neck tattoo moved to another bar. 'He said loudly into your ear, moving away from you and silently pointing behind him. A slight pout forms on your face, your eyebrows subconsciously scrunching to show your disgust. The tall boy stifles a laugh, masking it with a big smile that shows his pearly white teeth perfectly. With the same sceptic expression on your face, you continue towards the table.

The small round table close to one of the brick-patterned walls, completing the whole “bar” look, always had on Friday nights-a silver plate with the word ‘RESERVED’, placed on top. Both you and Hyunjin were regular visitors of the venue on Fridays-the table close to the stage being a constant pick from the two of you, wanting to jam to the live music as much as possible.

Sitting down, you order a cosmo to Hyunjin, whose turn it was to go to the bar and order the drinks.

A loud whine leaves his mouth followed by a couple of accusatory words about how he was the one who got the drinks for the last two weeks and that it was your turn.

Without saying a word you fixate your eyes on his, the stare that you constantly used on him when you wanted for something to go your way making the boy ‘tsk’ after a couple of seconds, seeing that you won’t budge. Swiftly turning around he pushes through the busy place, leaving you behind with a pleased smile.

Drumming your fingers lightly on the empty table to the beat of the music, you look around the little lounge. On some of the tables scattered around the place, were sitting faces familiar to you and on others there were ghouls that you were seeing for the first time. Customers change regularly, the life of a creature like you, being a constant problem. If you didn’t have a formed group, someone to have your back or you were one of the weaker ghouls, the chance of being hunted down was given at any moment. That’s how it has always been.

Once your eyes have travelled around the whole place, they finally stop on the figure, with its back on display, from where you are sitting. Trying to take a small peak of the new musician’s face you raise from your chair, tilting to the right to attempt and get a look at the strangers’ face. 

‘Hey what are you looking at?’

The voice startles you making you retreat from your position, turning your head in its direction.

‘Jesus, Jinnie you scared me.’ You pant, bringing your hand up to your heart.

The boy, with two drinks in his hands is looking amused by the little scare he gave you, averting his eyes to the stage, where you were looking just now. Bringing his gaze back to you, with an even more amused face-he raises his eyebrows teasingly.

‘Someone caught your eye already, Red?’

‘Shhhhh ’, you try to silence the loud boy, a finger in front of your lips to indicate that he should shut up. 

Instead of taking a seat, Hyunjin puts the drinks down, flashing you a final glance. Before you can even ask him what the hell he is planning, he has already taken four big steps and is up on the little stage, starting a conversation with the new pianist.

‘Oh my god’ you breath out, quickly sitting down at the table, lowering as much as possible in your seat. Putting your hand over your face in embarrassment, shielding yourself from the situation happening in front of you.

Deciding to take a glance after a moment, you peak from under your hand and you are met with two eyes staring at you.

The first thought you get is ‘shit, he is pretty’

His dark curls are falling into his eyes and his expression is neutral-eyes hooded-but holy fuck you don’t think you have ever seen a boy more attractive than this one.

And his smell, almost makes you sigh, the strong fragrance coming from him, almost clouding your mind.

But then another thought appears in your head:

‘He looks familiar’

And suddenly, Hyunjin is back, smiling as brightly as ever, this time taking his place next to you.

‘What did you tell him?’ you ask, your whole attention on the boy next to you.

‘Not that much,’ he shrugs, bringing his straw up to his mouth to take a sip of the mixed beverage. ’I told him that you’ve got a little crush on him’

‘You want to die?’ you tell him with your most threating tone, punching him in the upper arm-the boy almost spilling the substance of the glass, from your sudden action. ’I don’t even know him, now he is going to think I’m all weird.’ You groan, covering your face with both hands.

A laugh erupts from the guilty boy, slightly nudging your side. ’Don’t worry, I think he was kind of amused’

At his words you remove your hands, squinting suspiciously at him.

‘I think I heard him mutter a little ‘cute’ ,while I was telling him how madly in love you were with him.’

‘You are a liar, Hwang Hyunjin’ you voice out, pointing a finger at him.

‘Am not’ he says in return.

‘Are’ you answer back, this kind of bickering being a usual thing in your friendship.

‘Am not’

The first tunes of a jazzy melody start replacing the beats of the music-now turned off, the little thing going on between you and the boy, stopping immediately, both of your attention shifting to the performers standing on the grey stage- a pianist, saxophonist, bassist and a drummer.

The live music, draws a content sigh from your lips, finally feeling relaxed. Quietly chatting with Hyunjin, now and then, wanting to enjoy the music as much as possible. At one point, you are discussing the new pianist, whose name Hyunjin forgot to ask about. His style was definitely different from the man with the neck tattoo that you were used to listening to. This guy’s technique was way cleaner, regulating the sound better and there was the needed emotion put into the playing to make the whole thing almost perfect.

After 30 minutes of non-stop playing, the saxophonist announces that they will have a quick break after one more song. The piece is lively, the energy of the performers-contagious. Hyunjin is dancing around in his seat, you joining him in the process. But at one point something doesn’t feel right, the feeling of someone watching you making you snap your head towards the still playing pianist. His profile is visible and even if he isn’t technically watching you, your gut feeling is going crazy, his presence all of a sudden feeling heavy. And the uneasiness doesn’t stop.

The song ends and you feel even worse, completely losing yourself in your thoughts, now that nothing was distracting you from the bad feeling in your stomach.

Something was just not right. You were sure that you had seen the new pianist somewhere around town. But you passed hundreds of people every day if not even more. You would surely remember a boy with such an intoxicating smell like his if you had passed him down the streets of the big town. And if you didn’t know any better, you would have almost mistaken his smell for that of a human. 

But that can’t be, right? 

Human in the bar which only the creatures of the underworld knew about.

Unless…

Stirring your drink, your gaze shift towards the little stage, feeling someone’s eyes on you once again. The boy you were just thinking about has turned his head away from the keys of the piano, in the direction towards the small table where you and Hyunjin are sitting, a bottle of water in his hands. When he catches you starring back a shameless smirk appears on his face, followed by a quick wink, dimples prominent.

And then it hits you. The dimples.

———————————————————————

 ‘I managed to collect as much information as possible on the new members of the agency that were at the latest conference. Had the chance to snap a couple of pictures outside the building.’ the text on your phone said followed by a list of names and five images of men and women all dressed up in fancy suits.

‘You should have heard the speech that the son of the new chairman presented. I almost spilled coffee all over one lady, trying to hold in my laughter. The speech was full of over political bullshit about the differences between the ghouls and the humans. Talking about good and evil as if he knows what those two concepts mean in the situation we are in. On top of that he got appointed for a leader of a new squad.’

Snorting loudly at the text, you scroll down to the provided images. There is a picture of a young boy, under which, the name ‘Bang Chan’ is written, followed by the title ‘The chairman’s son’.

The first thing that catches your attention are the dimples. He looks naïve, the cheerfulness that oozes from him, a strong contrast to the others around him, making you believe that he wouldn’t be that much of a threat to anyone.

Your phone dings again, the new message catching your attention.

‘I also heard that he is an artificial. Guess daddy doesn’t love his son that much.’

One-eyed ghoul, huh?

———————————————————————

Of course. How dumb can you be? That’s why his fragrance was so alluring.

‘We have to leave’ you say out of nowhere, unintentionally locking eyes with the suspect.

The ‘what’ that comes from Hyunjin’s lips, sounds as if you are in a tunnel, his voice coming from somewhere far away from you. Your mind is swerving with thoughts about the situation you are in.

How had you forgotten about him? You shouldn’t have underestimated the chairman’s son with just one look at a picture. You were so far from the truth. The fact that he had found the underground bar just in a month when high class investigators have been suspicious, trying to grasp on even the smallest evidence that a place like this, where ghouls gathered, existed, made a shiver run down your body.

‘Someone snitched the place out. God, when I find the snitch, I’m going to pull all the vocal chords out of their throat.’

Suddenly the ghoul sitting next to you, stands abruptly, the panic prominent in his body language.

‘Sit down, Hwang’ you command, lightly tugging at the silver chain hanging from his jeans. ’We shouldn’t attract any attention.’

‘I don’t think that would be a problem’ he says pointing slightly towards the stage.

An intense classical melody had started playing, the unusual genre for this place, drawing all the attention towards the pianist, producing the sound with his fingers. The music grows hectic with every note, the switching between the threatening octaves with quick chattering treble figures, reminding you of a constant chase between a predator and a prey.

Predator and a prey. Isn’t that familiar?

‘I think I was right, about him being interested in you’ Hyunjin laughs lightly, without taking his off the pianist.

‘What do you-‘

‘The piece he is playing? It’s Rachmaninoff’s Little Red Riding Hood.’

At this point the music sounds out of control.

And then the screams come.

The first thing that stands out to you the most in all the havoc that is created, once the door is kicked down is the whip-like quinque that comes through the wall.

You recognize the rattling sound that it makes the moment it slices through a girl that was seated opposite the wooden door.

‘Fuck, why is Woojin here?’ Hyunjin says in a panicky voice, squeezing your arm tightly, shaking it a bit.

You were feeling as if you were watching a movie, the scene in front of you unfolding slowly, every sound around you completely dull.

Good question? Why was he here? Why were one of the most dangerous investigators, at the venue that was kept a secret for such a long time?

Bang Chan.

At that moment something inside of you switches.

Finally, turning towards the boy with the strong grip on your arm, you smile.

‘Hey are you-‘ 

Before he can finish his question, you cut him off, placing both of your arms on his shoulders.

‘Take the emergency stairs, you hear me? Call Minho and tell him what’s happening.’

The emergency stairs were something that Minho had come up with for exactly situations like this one. You remember him telling you about it one day, puzzled by the hatch that was in the corner of the girl’s restroom. He had explained that the stairs that were under the hatch lead to some tunnels that he found about, when looking at old plans of the building. The tunnels were connected to a couple of streets down the venue.

‘And you want me to leave you behind?’ he asks in disbelief.

‘I’ll be fine, Jinnie. And when all of this ends I’m going to explain everything.’ you say already pushing him in the direction of the toilet. 

‘Hey, no let me stay here and prote-‘you cut him off for the nth time tonight, stopping your pushing motion, turning him around. Cradling his face with one of your hands, you peck his cheek softly.

‘I can’t risk losing you.’

With those last words you turn around, slowly starting to approach the fight scene.

———————————————————————

‘Oh, Red Riding Hood, long time no see.’ Woojin say the moment he finally catches the glimpse of your red coat, sending his rattling weapon, swinging towards you.

With a jump to the side you avoid the flying blades, gracefully.

Woojin was one of the high-rated investigators, whose face never matched his true scary nature.

If there was someone that you avoided as much as possible from the whole organizations, it was definitely Woojin. 

‘I missed you too, Wojinnie. I’m surprised to see you working under the orders of a newbie.’ you pout in fake sympathy, delighted once you see his expression falter for a moment. But he is back to normal in a second, him closing on you, ready to strike once again.

With another jump in the air you are on the other side of the man, a laugh escaping your throat.

‘Would be delighted to continue this between us, but I have a new target to hunt down.’ You tell the young man while scanning quickly the room for the boy who was sitting at the piano, but he wasn’t there.

Taking in your surroundings on the way to the stairs, slashing with your kagune through some doves, you can’t help but fill the scorching rage inside of you. Dozens of bodies were laying on the ground, some still alive and some ghouls still up trying to fight off the enemy. Taking two steps at a time you are finally out of the basement, feeling the light breeze of the night hitting your face once you are outside.

———————————————————————

You don’t get the chance to even take one step before you are pined to the wall.

And in that moment two red eyes, meet one.

Your arms and legs are painfully getting forced by the kagune of the boy standing in front of you, his hand pressing down on your throat, to keep you in place.

So he isn’t an artificial. He is a real one-eyed ghoul. Born like that.

‘I knew that there was something fishy going on, the moment Lee Felix-one of the ‘assistants’ almost spilled coffee all over one of the women in the conference room. He started acting all uneasy when I shared my plans for ghoul termination. And from there it was quite easy getting the information I needed,’ he says calmly, a lazy smile on his face. ’Maybe next time try to implement someone in the organization, who doesn’t squirm when we talk about gory stuff?’

‘If you did something to Felix, I swear I’m going to make you regret it’ a growl like sound leaves you at his words, trying to reach him, your head almost overpowering his tight grip on your throat, but it’s once again pushed harshly against the wall making you groan.

A loud giggle emits from the boy, seeing you struggle greatly, his suffocating choke-hold, automatically making your hands wrap around his, to try to pry them away

‘You know, everyone talks about you, amongst my squad. All of them are telling me what a pain in the ass you were before you made that cowardly deal with the former chairman. But all I see is a dumb puppy who walks around thinking that she is the Big Bad Wolf.’ He puts a strand of your hair behind your ear with his free hand, gazing in your eyes. ‘But, let me tell you something,’ he says leaning to whisper the next thing in your ear. ‘There is a new Big Bad Wolf in the game and you have nothing against me, love’

He was definitely something else. He had his way with words, goosebumps travelling all around your body while listening to his monologue. But that was all there it was to him, just talk.

‘You are, you are,’ you try to question with great difficulty. ‘-definitely new aren’t you?’ ‘Let me..let me give you an advice for future references. Cut the talk because,’ he sees the tentacles too late feeling the pierce in his abdomen, his kagune loosening around your limbs and his hand around your throat. ’because it takes your focus away from your surroundings.’

With a kick to his chest, Chan is sent back flying, falling to the ground with a loud thud, followed by

groans and incoherent curses.

You place your hands on your knees, coughing loudly, while messaging your throat, marks present on your neck, left by his fingers. Once your breathing is back to normal, you finally look at the lying figure, engulfed by the dark. 

Humming to yourself, a slight sway in your hips, you approach his body, Chan’s arms pressed against the gash on his lower body that had yet to start healing. Kneeling down next to him you softly trace your fingers from his neck up to his chin, taking it between your fingers. Tilting his head up, for him to look in your still red eyes, you smile softly; the words leaving your mouth next, not matching your cute demeanor.

‘You still have a long way to go, before you can call yourself the Big Bad Wolf. For now, you are going to be my Little Red Riding Hood, Channie.’

Standing up from your place you put your hood up, taking your mask out for the second time that night. Before you put on the mask, you blow a kiss to the injured boy saying your last words of the night.

‘And if you don’t behave correctly, I will eat you up and no one will be able to save you’

[anulstermanabroad]

Fuji-San: Climbing the Giant Ice Cream

Many years ago now, I famously applied and failed in a previous quest to live in Japan. Fast forward four years and I'm finally here, living the Japanese Dream in Tokyo Wonderland. It wasn't all plain-sailing though. There was a a bachelor degree, an horrific interview and three years of simultaneously loving and hating life in China to battle through first.

Lets rewind four years. I'm in Edinburgh, Scotland and I'm interviewing for a reputable teaching scheme in Japan. I should be clear here, although I decided I wanted to move to Japan, in the grand scheme of things I had no idea about Japan or even a legitimate reason of substance. Despite having had numerous part-time jobs during my high-school and student years, I'd somehow managed to avoid ever participating in a real job interview. This was only going to lead to disaster. To cut a long study short, I managed to mention the war, Hiroshima and the 2011 tsunami and earthquake which devastated parts of Japan in my interview. I really left myself with less of a chance of moving to Japan than the possibility of a limbless man recreating the Mona Lisa. Six months later I moved to China...

One question I was asked, however, was ‘Where would you like to go in Japan?’ I hadn’t researched anything in particular for this question but there was one big reason I wanted to go to Japan - to climb Mount Fuji. For many, that may not seem like a legitimate reason for moving to another country but I had and continue to have, a strange attraction to Fuji. I’m not about to start rambling to you about some form of weird attraction that you’ll only find in the deepest, darkest corners of the internet, but for me, Fuji possesses a kind of mythical quality that I can’t describe. Whilst Japan is a hugely mountainous region, Fuji rises from the ground like a giant, almost totally isolated in it’s grandeur, unlike other mountainous parts of Japan. Fuji dominates the scenery around it and rises majestically, in it’s conical form, sculpted perfectly by Mother Nature herself. 

On a clear day, Fuji is visible from Tokyo which is about a two hour drive from the foot of the mountain. I haven’t been lucky enough to see it yet from so far out but in the crisp, clear, winter days to come, I’ll be looking out with bated breath. The first time I went to Fuji was in April this of this year. Although it’s not possible to climb the mountain at that time because of the temperature and snow capped peak, the surrounding areas are very beautiful and a refreshing break from the claustrophobia of Tokyo. My first impression was, ‘Oh shit.’ I knew I would climb over the climbing period during July and August and when faced with Fuji, rising 3700m into the sky, I could see no way of possibility getting to the top. Due to its conical shape, the peak of the mountain looks almost vertical and it’s hard to imagine getting to the summit without climbing apparatus. Whilst I like to climb the occasional mountain, they usually tend to require nothing more than a pair of running shoes. As the day went on, it became easier to appreciate the sheer size of Fuji and how much impact it has on the surrounding area and Japan in general. I have three year old students who can’t put their own socks on, but even for them, Mount Fuji holds a special significance in Japanese culture. It helps that I also have Mr Potato Head, Fuji-themed socks to spark their interest even further...

So, on a late August afternoon, I climbed aboard a bus from Shinjuku station to Mount Fuji’s fifth station. Whilst it is possible to climb Fuji from the very bottom, the majority of climbers start from the fifth station which is around 2300m above sea level. Although this is higher than I’ve ever been in my life (whilst on two feet), in reality there are only around 1400m to the summit from the start point. We took the option of climbing overnight, beginning at 8pm rather than being extortionately ripped off to stay in a crowded mountain hut for a couple of hours. I had also never climbed at night before which filled me with fear, but in reality, the trails are very good. So as long as you’re careful and have some form of head-torch, the climb is very safe. Mount Fuji is made up of ten stations and by 9pm we had reached the sixth station, already. From that point on, the trail begins to rise rapidly, going from a steady incline to a more vertical incline but it’s still a relatively simple hike. For me, the climb between stations seven and eight were probably the most difficult. This is, effectively, the only part of Fuji that you have to climb. After 12 years of playing rugby and drunkenly falling down stairs at house parties, my knees are verging on dodgy, crumbling messes. During this section you need to climb over large, cliff-like rocks rather than the volcanic gravel trail prevalent on the rest of the mountain. It is also very accessible but whilst my hiking companion seemingly found it simple enough to stay upright, my abysmal lack of balance and sometimes raging winds required me to use my hands at times also. I became a very nonathletic Spiderman. If you’re like me, bring gloves to protect your hands and you will have no problems. And your web blasters. 

I should point out that at this point I was terrified. Whilst it was relatively easy to climb up, the incline was extreme and I wondered how the hell I was every going to get back down without smashing my head off every rock on the mountain, as my huge body rapidly rolled to the bottom. It turns out most of the fears I had on the way up were totally irrelevant as the downward path is both different and incredibly easy. In short, don’t worry. By midnight, we were seriously ahead of time and had reached the eighth station at 3100m - only 600m from the top. Until this point, I had actually been climbing in a t-shirt but it was starting to get very cold. Only adrenaline and climbing had protected me for the previous hour or two. Luckily I had packed five extra layers and the further we climbed the more clothes I gradually slipped on. Think of it like a prostitute at work, but in reverse. Sadly also, nobody was paying me for this shit.

Having a rest at the eight station. Notice how we’re still happy and gloves aren’t necessary yet... 

During this section of the climb, it was now seriously cold. As long as you kept moving, it was bearable; even pleasant. As soon as you stopped, however, no amount of layers could protect you despite myself looking like the North Face had sponsored Mr. Blobby. A big problem we also had was that we were running out of mountain. At the rate we were going, we would’ve been at the summit by 1.30am, a mere three and a half hours until sunrise. I could only assume that it would be colder at the summit and I didn’t fancy recreating the end of Titanic, except in reverse at 3700m above sea level as some strangers mistakenly referred to me as ‘Jack.’ Bearing this in mind, we decided to find a sheltered spot between the eighth and ninth stations and rest for an hour out of the wind. The mountain staff are surprisingly strict with climbers, to the extent that many climbers could be put in danger. At every mountain hut they will sell Pot Noodles and sometimes other hot food but you’re basically forbidden from coming inside unless you pay the full night’s accommodation fee - around 8000yen. Or £55-£65, depending on what Theresa May’s fair government has cocked up that week. There is plenty of space to shelter climbers from the winds, which are fairly extreme, but I could see it from the other side of the spectrum. Why should they aid mad bastards like us, who chose to climb overnight and encourage others to do the same long term, thus reducing customers and profits? People were so cold that they were hiding in toilets just to stay warm which prompted the addition of a ‘mountain toilet guard’ at one bathroom shack. What I will say is that, you will never take as many unnecessary shits as you will whilst climbing Fuji, simply to get out of the cold and sit down somewhere warm for 5 minutes. Ok, 10...

After an hour long break, we began our ascent to the summit at around 1am, knowing full well we would still be there early, however, staying still was no longer an option. Whilst I couldn’t feel a lack of oxygen in the air, I could feel that with every step and every bend in the trail, it was definitely getting harder. We both reached the ninth station around 2am which is only about 300m from the summit. We were both feeling tired but good and the summit was (probably) in view. All was going well until around 150m from the end. In the space of around ten minutes, my friend went from being slightly tired to physically ill. Headaches and nausea included. Until this point, he had more or less set the pace the whole way but it suddenly fell on me to become Sam and push Frodo up the mountain to destroy Sauron. Or, reach the top of Fuji. It’s the same thing really. Me being me, I hadn’t actually researched altitude sickness at all, hoping everything would just be ok. With that (lack of) knowledge, I figured it was best to push him to keep climbing the mountain and stop him from falling asleep; not really sure if I was helping him or slowly killing him. Every five minutes or so, we would rest for another 5-10 minutes, inhaling the oxygen we’d thankfully invested in pre-hike. By this point, I could see other experienced climbers, who were also clearly struggling and you could tell that everybody was a little bit wrecked. It’s kind of like watching that drunk guy leaving the pizza shop at 4am with his food. He’s walking so slowly and trying so hard not to fall onto the road but you know, somehow, he’ll make it home. 

The last 150m took us around an hour - a massive difference compared to the rest of the hike - and we reached the summit around 3.15am, thankfully as the summit huts and shelters were opening up. A total climb of around six hours plus our rest period isn’t bad going. I got a massive buzz off it, so much so that I couldn’t even feel the cold anymore. I was even cheery, something I very rarely am, even at sea level. It felt good to climb higher than I ever had before and although I wouldn’t say it was particularly difficult, it was a massive challenge and a totally new experience. I left my friend in a sheltered hovel while I scoped out the summit and tried to find somewhere we could rest until sunrise. I ended up paying an extortionate amount for the best Pot Noodle I’ve ever had in my life.before going back to reclaim my friend. Thankful that he wasn’t dead, we hung out for an hour in a summit hut, which was wonderfully warm. Whilst he battled to stay awake, clutching a roasting hot green tea, I took the chance to socialise with some other climbers and hope nobody asked me to buy anything. Around 4.30am, it was starting to get light out and we headed outside to watch the sunset. My friend was still in a precarious state and by this point, after being in the warm indoors for over an hour, the effects of the climb had truly worn off. All you could feel now was the cold. So cold, in fact, that I couldn’t enjoy the Kit-Kat which I’d carried up the mountain, specifically to eat at the summit. My optimism went from, ‘Yay, sunrise time,’ to ‘When the fuck is the sun going to come up?’ in the space of about three and a half minutes. My friend took a seat on the edge of the mountain, whilst I moved around the summit, desperately trying to keep warm. The volcanic crater below is both simultaneously impressive and terrifying and not something you want to stray too close to on the windy summit. As the sun began to rise, I returned to my friend who had made his own little addition to the mountain by re-releasing the curry-rice we had consumed before the climb. It’s always good to give back to nature. 

The sunrise was a beautiful sight but I was so cold that it was hard to appreciate in a full capacity. It was the first time you get a real sense of how high you actually are, however, and the mountain ranges you pass through on the way to Fuji are dwarfed in comparison. I could see a small mountain I’d climbed four months earlier with my girlfriend to get a good view of Fuji itself and it was like a pimple on the body of the world. Fuji is, well, something else. We began our descent about fifteen minutes after sunrise due to it being fucking baltic and my friend very quickly recovered as we began to descend. The views were wonderful for the first 25 minutes until the descent became potentially the most boring thing I’ve ever done in my life. Two and a half hours descending a path that is both repetitive and slightly too hard on the knees to be comfortable was so monotonous. By the time I got to the bottom I was thoroughly miserable, both due to tiredness and sheer boredom and felt sorry for my companion who had to put up with my foul mood. 

Above: The stunning sunrise and other climbers observing the view.

Below: Waiting for my wonderful cup noodle in a climbers hut at Fuji’s tenth station.

Having a well deserved lie down on a very cold mountain top.

Would I climb Fuji again? The short answer is, I don’t know. Whilst it wasn’t particularly difficult, the cold does really hamper your enjoyment of the experience. Only if I stayed in a hut and could appreciate Fuji’s enormity and views during the day, would I consider doing it again. Climbing overnight was less congested but I could honestly see shit. The feeling of elation and adrenaline I experienced on the final moments before and after reaching the summit though, is something I’ll never forget. I flash-backed to that interview room all those years ago, accomplished in the knowledge that I’d achieved one of the biggest goals I’d ever set myself. But for now, it’s sayonara Fuji!

See more pictures below!

Standing in front of Fuji’s imperious crater. Below was as close as I was willing to get, though.

What looked like a moderate sized mountain range on the journey in are made to look minuscule in comparison to Fuji in the sunrise below. 

Climbers navigating the summit (above) and the start of the descent (below). I’ve seen worse views, I guess.

[buttersbots]

Ficlet: Comfort

I did this instead of organizing the rest of my sites. That all can wait... I miss these guys. This is what it's all about.

deviantART | Archive of Our Own | FanFiction.net

Dusk fell quick over the outskirts of Axiom, making the white walls of an isolated mansion gleam with the warmth of the sky.

It stood alone in the center of a vast garden, a perfectly secluded haven for its inhabitants. However, only one denizen was home, and he was too preoccupied to appreciate the last of the sunlight that streamed through the windows in the west-facing laboratory. A tall, angular robot was bent low over one of the workbenches that extended into the cavernous room. With a blaring light shining down from the ceiling, he used a pair of thin instruments to pull apart a power cell the size of a lunch box, his talons perfectly steady. He poured all of his concentration into being as precise as possible, the crosshairs in his round optic focused on his work as he zoomed in all the way. He was mechanically still ‒ one might think he was offline if they saw him from behind. His wrists and hands made perfectly controlled movements, removing casing to expose the components and gently remove them, laying them out on the sterile counter. He meant to rebuild it more efficiently, and after assessing its performance, was finally getting around to breaking it down. He was so focused on his work that he lost all awareness of his surroundings, meaning that for the first time all week, he didn’t sense his wife’s electrical signature as she came inside. A sleek, hovering probe poked her head through the doorway of the lab. She still wore her work apron, a green smock tied tightly enough around her body that it didn’t slip down her limbless form. Her floating arms and head drew in as she stifled a giggle, the blue eyeforms in her black visor turning up into a devious smile ‒ with his acute sensory system, it was almost impossible to sneak up on him, and she was going to capitalize on this rare opportunity. Her sense of humor was simple. She was perfectly happy to go in without any gimmicks and simply make him jump. Moving slowly to muffle the sound of her thrusters, she detached her floating fingers from the ends of her arms and didn’t stop until there were only a few inches between them. Smiling wide, she clamped her hands onto his shoulders and stood back as he shot two feet into the air, raising his arms above his head in a reflexive move to avoid damaging the power cell. He stayed frozen until she broke into ringing laughter. “Wha ‒ you?” he sputtered, twisting around to look at her and blinking to return his vision to normal zoom. His brow drew low over his expressive optic. “Eve Probe Two, you scared me half way to the moon!” “How could I resist?” she laughed. “And to think I was sorely missing you earlier,” he huffed, floating back down to a comfortable height. His lanky frame still towered over hers. “You know you could’ve just ruined a whole day’s work? They won’t be sending me another one of these batteries, they’re experimental and highly expensive!” “Come on, Nos-4-a2, I knew you’d be sharp enough to avoid disaster. You’re jumpy as a cat when you’re not paying attention, and you have the reflexes, too.” He motioned as if to roll his optic. “You’re lucky I love you so much. Come here.” Two happily hovered into his arms, rising higher to nestle the side of her head against his and cross her arms behind his neck. Where she was minimalistic and simple, he was angular and vibrant, but they fit together as comfortable as could be. “How was your first full week at work?” Nos asked, his accent soft against the side of her head. “Amazing. It’s one of the best nurseries I’ve ever seen, and their landscaping program is so wonderful, and everyone else who works there really loves it, too! I couldn’t have designed a better job if I tried.” “...So you’re saying it’s time for me to give up on you quitting and staying home with me?” Two laughed and turned her head to kiss his cheek, kindling a blue arc of electricity against his metal and sending chills through his wires. “I’m afraid so.” He grumbled and leaned his full weight against her. She hummed affectionately and pet his back, easily capable of supporting him. “You should come in to visit sometime. I was getting to know some of my coworkers today and they’re definitely interested in meeting you. I showed them a picture, and I could’ve slapped the looks off some of their faces. I’d love them to see how sweet you are in person.” Nos scowled. “I’m not sure about that. You’re the only one I ever feel sweet around... it’s just not in my programming.” “Hey, what have I said about all that ‘programming’ nonsense?” “Right, sorry. What I meant is you’re the only one I feel comfortable letting myself go around, and even then...” Two couldn’t help laughing, literally holding his completely relaxed frame while she stroked her hand up and down his back. “Yeah, you’re a real tough nut to crack.” He huffed again. “Shut up.” She squeezed him and nuzzled the side of her head against his, cherishing the way he felt. For the first time all week, she really realized how much she missed spending her days with him. After all their time together over the last few years, having to be away from him for the larger part of her days felt like eons. “I’m happy you’re home, love.” She blinked static out of her visor. “Me too.” 

~~~

After Nos's early life, I imagine he's kind of touch starved. He can't get enough affectionate contact, so he totally melts and adores being pet even if he'll never admit it -- obviously, though, he's only this way around his immediate family. Also, guess what I did~? I BOUGHT SOME SNAILS! I decided to use some of my new wages to treat my aquarium right, which means water testing kits, water treatment solutions, and SNAILS. They started making tracks through the algae as soon as I dropped them into the tank! Their names are Stefan (tan with black spots) and Vlad (all black).

[ecotone99]

[MF] No More Tears

My leg forever separated from my hip with a squish, then a crack, then another squish, torn asunder by the crappy blunt old axe I swore I would replace last summer. I watched a graceful squirt of crimson leave my new stump and paint the fresh-fallen snow, and it finally occurred to me that I might not be able to die, like--ever.

Right away, I got very, very angry that the first time I realized this was as my wife hacked my body to pieces in the forest behind our house. Then the axe slammed into my jugular, and I was even more sure that I wouldn’t be dying, no matter what else Mary did to me.

There had been clues, for sure. When I was at summer camp as a kid, a particularly nasty flesh-eating bacteria had made its way through everyone, rumored to have originated in a really bad batch of Italian Wedding soup. The entire camp succumbed, half their skin gone within days, except for me. Got hit by a train when I was three years old--they found me in a ditch 500 yards away, totally fine. Third wife shot me in the head--pushed through that too. Toughed it out. All of those were written off as freak incidents, and I believed the doctors who said I just had really great luck--believed them until today, that is, when Mary made it exceedingly clear to me that this was not luck. No wonder I had always been so reckless, and such an asshole--I had always felt that there weren’t really risks for me. I should have known all along.

The axe hit my jugular again, and this time it stung something awful. I’m not exactly sure where the voice box is, but I figured it might be below where Mary was hitting, and alive or not if I wasn’t connected to my voice box I wasn’t going to be saying much. So I spoke.

“Mary. Please.”

My voice sounded terrible, viscous and wet and fraying like it was about to snap. She dropped the axe in fear and stared at me. We had both thought I was dead for a while now, ever since she had given me the surprise axe in my ribs while I watched TV. I just went unconscious from shock, though--and it looked like she was about to, too.

“Don’t pass out. Don’t pass out. It’s okay, babe--I know it’s crazy I’m alive--but just listen to me.”

“What.”

I thought for a second. I thought she would take longer to recover, but she seemed to be annoyed at me already and I honestly had not thought about what I actually wanted to say. I never really know what to say to women, and Mary in particular had always left me speechless. She really knew how to shut a man down just with her tone.

“Um. I’m sorry.”

She picked up the axe again.

“Your sorries don’t mean anything to anyone. Especially not to me.”

I decided I would try to play the pity card. My arms and legs were gone, my throat was bleeding--I thought I had a good chance of it working, since I really looked like shit. I put on my most pathetic face and tried to squeeze out a little tear.

“Please--I never meant to hurt you, Mary. I don’t know why I do the things I do--I don’t wanna do them, it’s like I’m in a dream and then I wake up and somehow I’ve hurt you again, you know--

Before I could finish she raised the axe high over her head and brought it down so hard, and I swear to god, she split my head in half down the middle from the top of my dome to right below my nose, and I was screaming, and she was screaming, and she ran away. I knew she would have to come back because she hadn’t really gotten my tongue and I could scream so loud, and so I did. It felt like I could sort of echo off of the sides of my split-open head like the mouth of a trumpet, and after a bit I forgot how bad it hurt and I was just screaming to hear myself scream, really relishing how loud I could be. Eventually Mary came back and she saw me, limbless and split-headed and yelling, and she fell to her knees in the snow and started bawling.

I knew I kinda had an opening, so I put on my best tender guy voice and I said,

“Mary, baby. My little lamb (she hates this but it works sometimes). It’s gonna be okay. I forgive you for trying to kill me and slicing off my legs and arms and splitting my head in half. I don’t hold it against you, babe. We’ve all been there.”

“You’re such a fucking asshole.”

“I know I am, Mary. I know. I’m really working on it--I’m trying hard to fix myself. I feel like this incident is really gonna turn me around.”

“You’re supposed to be dead!!!!”

“Well that’s what I was gonna tell you, Mar. I don’t think I can die. I think I’m immortal.”

She looked at me, quivering, holding the axe like she was going to hit me again.

“No you’re not.”

“I’m pretty sure I am. You remember when Janet shot me in the head? The train that hit me as a baby?”

“Freak accidents--the bullet missed your brain. You’re just lucky.”

“I don’t think anybody’s ever survived this long in pieces like you did to me! Look at me, Mar! You think a mortal guy would be okay to talk to you looking like this??”

She put her head back in her hands and moaned to herself in a really exasperated-type way. Her face went red as the snow was, and then she looked me up and down, from my split-open head to the bottom of my stumps, and it looked like she was going to throw up. She finally met my eyes, in deep despair.

“So what, Tony? You’re just gonna keep living forever and I gotta deal with you until I’m dead? Is that what that means?”

“You could divorce me. Ever thought of that?”

“I don’t want to divorce you. I want to kill you.”

“Well you did kill me. I just can���t die.”

“That’s not what killing means, Tony!”

“Just bury me, then. I don’t know if I’ll grow back together. I might not and then I can’t bother you ever again. Just a head and some legs and arms in a hole.”

She sighed, and considered this for a long time. I looked up as the snow softly fell, dancing left and right through the pine trees, and caught a couple flakes on what was left of my tongue.

“I can’t bury you. You might yell or something.”

“I won’t yell. Swear to god. Swear on my mother.”

She thought for a little longer, and the snow kept falling, and as it fell harder I started to get sad. I didn’t know if I would ever heal and grow back together. I looked down at all my parts, strewn across the snow, growing whiter from the rapidly-falling flakes, and I started to cry, hard, for the first time in years. Maybe it really was over. I was immortal, and I hadn’t known it, and in the first 43 years of my life I was such an asshole that I made someone I love figure out a way to mess up a life that I could have lived forever. I could have been happy forever if I had just been less of a prick.

The tears ran from my eyes through my split-open and head down my throat, and I started to choke, and Mary emerged from her thoughts and put her hands on my shoulders in concern, and there was a little spark of love in her eyes that I hadn’t seen since I picked her up outside of the divorce lawyer’s office. I looked into her big brown eyes, swallowed my tears, and just crumbled.

“I’m sorry, Mary. I’m sorry for kissin’ your sister and kissin’ your brother and for forgetting to pick the kids up and ignoring you and for makin’ so many degrading comments and for runnin’ all around town and for being such a bad cook, and I’m sorry for pushing you to the edge where you did this. I’m sorrier than I’ve ever been.”

Mary shook her head a little and tried not to cry.

“I’m sorry I hit you in the chest with an axe and cut you to pieces, I just--I got so mad, and I couldn’t stop myself, and now we’re...we’re here. Guess we’re even now.”

“Can you wipe my tears for me?”

Mary put her fingers under my eyes and wiped the wetness, and then she did this thing where she snapped her fingers and said “no more tears,” and when she showed me her fingers they were dry. She usually did that for the kids, but I always liked it too.

“I don’t think I’m gonna grow back together, Mary. I think you got me good.”

“I don’t think so either. Remember when you lost your toe to the circular saw? That’s not back. So.”

“So I’m stuck all cut up.”

We sat there for a long time together, snow drifting down, in the silence of the towering pines as the sun took the escalator down below the horizon. After what felt like forever, she looked at me.

“What do you think makes you immortal? You think it’s somethin’ in your blood?

“I don’t know. If it was then I’d be dead by now. I basically got no blood left.”

“So it’s in your, like... flesh, then.”

“I always thought it was sort of in my soul, you know?”

“Where do you think the soul is?”

I kept looking up at the sky as I talked to her. She loved grilling me, even now.

“I think it’s in every inch of me, babe. I think it’s animating every little bit of my body. There’s no one set place, like--I am my soul. My soul’s me and it’s so strong that whatever’s attached to it can’t die. Except for if you, you know, un-attach stuff.”

She rolled that over in her brain for a little, and then she got up and walked to our little cabin, her thin legs plunging deep into the snow. I watched her go as best as I could with my extremely limited mobility. When she came back she stood behind me where I couldn’t look up and see her.

“Alright, listen. You don’t wanna be here in pieces for the rest of eternity.”

“No I don’t.”

“And I don’t wanna have to deal with you screaming back here, or try to put you together, cause I’m not a surgeon and either I’ll mess up and make you an abomination, or I’ll do it right and you’ll jump into somebody else’s bed again and piss me off so bad I’ll do this all over even worse. Cause you’re not gonna change. I know you. ”

I stayed quiet at that.

“But I do love you.”

“I love you too.”

She took a deep breath.

“I got sort of an idea. But you can’t judge me. You can’t laugh.”

“At this point I think we’ve pretty much seen each other at our worst.”

She walked into my view holding a blowtorch and a fork, and she looked so embarrassed I thought she might die. She looked cuter than I had ever seen her.

“I figure--if--if I get your soul--inside of me--then maybe we can sort of live forever together. We can share this body and I can--keep you in check, you know.”

I couldn’t help laughing.

“You’re gonna eat me, Mary?”

“You said you wouldn’t judge!”

I took a long deep breath.

“I don’t think it’s gonna work.” “What other options do you have?”

“I guess I don’t have any, Mar.”

So Mary fired up the blow torch and pointed it at my bare chest, and she cooked up the skin and tore it off and chewed on it, and then she threw up, and then tried again, and when she finally swallowed I felt a little part of myself going into her. I told her to keep going, and she did, and she chewed and ate and chewed and ate and after a long, long time, we were surrounded by deep red snow and nothing else.

We stood up and we felt strong, and happy, and we laughed a little and talked about how I had tasted, and then we walked back to the cabin together to start the thousands of lives we were gonna live together.

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