#nah she got a dome !1

[its-mekjt]

Favourite parts of 3×96 (potential spoilers below the break)

in this episode of critical role, i was joined by bairn (my highland cow stuffed teddy), a bottle of water, an attempt at psychology revision (which failed), a few malted milk biscuits and a sense of impending doom because i agreed to work 12 to 10 tomorrow.

PART ONE

▪︎ this is caleb widogast in an alternate universe btw

▪︎ WHAT LITTLE COTTAGE. WHAT DO YOU MEAN.

▪︎ laura just pulling out a box of tissues.

▪︎ dorian just finding out about the lesbians

▪︎ "fearne and i had a threesome-" // "excuse me?"

▪︎ YES, LAUDNA IS POWERFUL WITHOUT HER, AND IT MAKES ME SOB THAT SHE THINKS SHE ISN'T.

▪︎ fearne loml. she can do no wrong. she's here for EVERYONE. SHE LOVES THEM ALL.

▪︎ "normally, i avert my gaze by looking down, but he's under me." (looks at ceiling instead).

▪︎ travis just slapping marisha and immediately thinking he's hurt her. CSCKLUNG.

▪︎ ah yes. the sibling life. beating the SHIT out of one another. (me and my sister did this bit she got taller than me, and i forgot my own strength, so we were forced to stop)

▪︎ i need the laura bailey vs delilah briarwood one shot.

▪︎ CHETNEY IS ME.

▪︎ bells bells plays spin the bottle when

▪︎ imogen and laudna NOOOO.

▪︎ ashton and fearne YESSSSS.

▪︎ BERTRANDS BLADE. i'm SOBBING.

▪︎ dorian is committed to the aesthetic (the blue)

▪︎ "it's like pulp in my orange juice, get it the fuck out." i'm using that.

▪︎ SUIT UP MONTAGE LETS GO.

▪︎ me looking at dorian's new fit: since when did this become a WHORE HOUSE

▪︎ fearne and ashton's fabric swap

▪︎ they're all going to freeze, but they're all going to look great doing it

▪︎ 'seth' is a bitch about timetables

▪︎ OH GOD HE'S BEHIND THE DOOR

▪︎ dorian blew them up

▪︎ why do i think gelidon is about to appear

▪︎ orym made them go near tal'dorei

▪︎ at least they're in eiselcross now.

PART TWO

▪︎ everybody FUCKING RUN

▪︎ essek swearing

▪︎ "stop fucking floating and lie down essek." fjord stone has entered the chat.

▪︎ guidance, it's nice to have.

▪︎ ESSEK USING ONE OF CALEB'S SPELLS. AWWWWW.

▪︎ of course essek has a face mask.

▪︎ ashton cannot climb trees. too buff.

▪︎ panocy top.

▪︎ JESUS CHRIST +12 TO STEALTH? (also matt's face)

▪︎ what the fuck is happening in aeor

▪︎ oh! bones!

▪︎ OH MY GOD THE TOMB TAKERS

▪︎ essek was a salmon. caleb had to carry him.

▪︎ GRIM PSYCHOMETRY (morbid geometry) ON THE DOME WOOOO

▪︎ creepy slow moving skeleton

▪︎ THEY'RE SINGING THAT SONG (https://youtu.be/ZjlYFWLUDBQ?si=jJlkyaksau0pcsmt)

▪︎ essek is a nursery teacher dealing with a group of children who won't stop touching everything

▪︎ arcane eye let's go

▪︎ who killed those vanguard members?

▪︎ peeking into that tent, then popping out like: nah, i don't need that seered into my mind

▪︎ a fight between them? oh. mind control?

▪︎ oh my giddy aunt, what the hell happened here?

▪︎ well. that's a violent way to go. love it.

▪︎ 🎶asmodeus🎶

▪︎ CHESTY MCCARVEY

▪︎ "there's a faint grinding sound-" // "son of a bitch."

▪︎ the witches + ashton

▪︎ NATURAL 1

▪︎ NOTHING NEEDS TO BE THAT TALL

▪︎ it's giving pale man from pan's labyrinth (oh my god, i have to write a 40 mark essay on pan's labyrinth and city of god in my film exam)

▪︎ MAW.

▪︎ SOMETHING CRAWLING OUT OF IT? FUCK OFF.

▪︎ robbie and taliesin are so hyped for this.

▪︎ two weeks of emotional damage, a week of physical damage.

▪︎ MY LORD THAT MAP IS GORGEOUS

there's a week long break, so there won't be one of these next friday/saturday. see y'all in a couple weeks!

[laalaaisqueen]

Slendytubbies 3 AU based on what I talked about once based on Slendytubbies 1

The light hovered over Laa-Laa. The yellow Teletubby seemed to be motionless, Po thinks she can smell blood but she's not fully sure. But it wasn't her concern.

She turns her attention back to the tall shaky figure of Tinky Winky.

"Tinky? It's kinda late and we should probably go home and Dipsy can just come out and figure out what's wrong with Laa-Laa." Her free hand grabs part of his arm that she could reach.

There's a short awkward silence before he turns around and walks off the sand and onto the path. Her hold kind of slipped due to their height difference and how fast Tinky's pace is.

"I know you want to go back home, but at least don't walk so fast!" It was strange in itself since Tinky normally never went fast unless if he was fleeing from a bug.

In a blinky he seemed to vanish out of her line of sight, baffling her further. She runs as fast as her short legs could carry her. He is kind of scared of the dark so maybe that got him going at impossible speeds.

Po steps in front of the doors, they open detecting motion.

How many times was she going to be confused?

Dipsy was seemingly fighting with Tinky by the slide.

She tilts her head and shines the light.

Ah, Tinky was trying to strangle him. And Dipsy was trying to elbow him and kicking at the other's torso.

The Tubby faltered though due to the light blinding him. This led to a snapping noise and Dipsy's head hits against the slide before landing on the hard floor like a rag doll.

"UH. Whoops." She chuckles slightly, she probably shouldn't have done that.

Tinky's legs suddenly dropped under him and he crawls away to push himself into a corner.

Her purple gaze lands back on the motionless Dipsy. "Maybe I should remove him."

Tinky is no emotional state to do so.

She drags the body by the leg and drags it outside.

Where should I take him?

Po pulls him in the direction of a tree and leaves him in front of it.

That's far enough.

On her way back to the dome she remembered what she witnessed, hopefully Tinky wasn't hurt in his fight with Dipsy.

The older Tele was still where he was before. Though he had sat up against the cold wall.

She sits in front of him, his pale face had claw scratches.

"Where did you get those? Are you hurt anywhere else?"

Tinky didn't answer her first question but he lifts up his shirt to show his bruised torso and slightly cracked TV screen.

Po pouts. "I'll get the first aid kit, ugh Dipsy does talking it out not exist in your brain?" She runs to the bathroom to go get the kit.

She didn't know what to do about cracks but she wrapped it in a bandage too. She disinfected the claw marks and put a lot of pink band aids over them.

Tinky's ears shoot up and a low growl emits.

"Oww, my feet." Someone faints whines outside the dome.

Po didn't recognize the voice. She quickly stands up and runs to Tinky's room and searches in his bag for the first knife she finds. Then runs back out to stand in front of the doors.

They open and something is also standing on the outside side. They jump back when she points the sharp knife in his direction.

"W...Whoa, okay, Po, put the knife down."

"Don't put my cute name in your filthy mouth."

The growling grew closer. "Tinky is sensitive so you better shoo before he accidentally kills you."

An angry shriek rings out, Po turns around and pushes at Tinky's body. "Nah, nah! He might hurt you Tinky, go back inside!"

She didn't notice the dirty looking Tubby slowly back away before running away in a different direction.

[bradenthompson]

Allegiant (2016) notes

Time for the epic* conclusion**, cinephiles, and what a ride it's been. We began with the totally fine and otherwise unremarkable Divergent (2014) before hitting the road like a ramp for Insurgent (2015). We're on an uphill trajectory, the stakes have never been more lukewarm, I just noticed Beatrice's tattoo is supposed to be birds, let's waste zero time and finish*** this.

>there's a factoid about this movie we cannot ignore. In going with the unhealthy body standard set by the Harry Potter movies, this final act, like Hunger Games and Twilight before it, was poised to be split in twain, ideally finished with the all new title Ascendant. However, a middling box office reception (because it couldn't have been critical reception), poor cast retention, and YA cinema fatigue (seems to be the only movie fatigue that actually happened) led to the hilarious conclusion of this conclusion being decisively inconclusive for no reason. Or I assume it's inconclusive. Maybe they pivoted the design at the 11th hour, maybe they didn't.

>I cannot deny this situation the comedy. I don't even remember this movie coming out, and until five minutes ago I thought it was a 2017 joint. Unfortunately my external critical eye stopped working around 2017, I'm a Divergenthead (Divergite? Divergoid?) due to the funny, and I will not look down on this movie unless I think I have to. We're looking at the last innocent movie of it's era. Never again can we return to inexpressive dystopian regimes and the hot young people standing opposed. And what a shame we cannot

>glitchy splash logos are back, IDC is gone and their ugly logo is not missed

>the city walls looks very vaultable. I don't remember any rule against citizens leaving. Imagining the entire faction society said "nah I heard it's boring, my legs are tired, I got like a bunch of shit to do, I'm not going out there."

>Detecting some... Randian notes? Presumably, the outside world created The Faction Society of NIMH for the purposes of indirectly breeding Divergents, people who possess all five desirable qualities in a person/leader. This throws my allegorical take out the window. Turns out, no, this isn't supposed to represent teenagers entering adult society because then what's all this supposed to imply? "Rules feel arbitrary and unfair; young people forced to conform to one of a few unfulfilling positions in life. Except the few nonconformists who forge their own path. And this is because the Rothschilds grew them in a biosphere specifically to turn out like this."

>was about to ask "who's giving all these perfect haircuts" but as Insurgent demonstrated people can just do this with zero experience

>Beatrice and Four love kissing on the edges of buildings, I've noticed.

>movie letting me feel no shame in calling Four's mom a creep. Now she's the authority villain now! Beatrice may still yet dropkick a woman in a pantsuit

>Beatrice having no issue walking around in public spaces for the lady that's basically Myers-Briggs Jesus

>lol Ansel's in jail

>injection count: 1

>ADR is ADRing

>Four's mom has risen to the rank of ultraleader on basically nothing. She led a factionless company, okay, but why are the factionfolk kowtowing to factionless scum in the first place? Not a lot of time passes between movies, and yet

>legacy characters get hung up like basketball jerseys in these films. Dauntless leader gets domed bc he's already served three movies as auxiliary B character. Enjoy retirement, buddy

>pounding my desk chanting for Ansel to die. srry im with Four's mom on this one

>"you went to war with Jeanine..." she did? I remember her popping Kwinslet like she was Jack Ruby, wouldn't call that one a War.

>literally just pick her up and put her in a dumpster. There are no factions, she has no power

>"what if there's nothing out there" "i can live with that if you're with me, but I can't live without trying" ... she can live with there being no outside world, on the condition Four is still there... but she can't live unless she checks if there's an outside world... can live if Four's her boyfriend... can't live if she doesn't go outside... why is this confusing me

>I've developed a fondness for the Divergent series' nonspecific set design. Everything's just generally dilapidated. Destroyed city, big holes in the concrete, it all looks like the queue for a theme park ride but ykw I'm always happy to see physical sets.

>lmao holy shit. Miles Teller does not give a shit. Literally cannot be paid to care. Good for him, my number 1 series parasite.

>injection count: 2

>I'm to understand they could totally camouflage Ansel by making him wear anything other than blue, right?

>dig this series', like, ontological villains. Whatever the heroes are trying to do at any moment, Mohawk Man will try to stop them. Literally whatever they got goin on

>this wall climbing scene'd be a great level in the video game that doesn't exist

>and now Tori has also left the series. Hardly knew ye. Feeling more confident in the prediction that Ansel's gonna bite it

>shut up, Ansel

>breaking my soft screencap rule bc I don't wanna rob anyone of Ansel Posture Dot Png:

>outside world looks like the venus levels from Destiny 1 but Chicago is mostly intact lol

>Four's teeth are so white

>outside world technology is so fuckin stupid looking

>Miles Teller just said Gadzooks

>Beatrice still only wearing the vest, now that's breathable

>these future guys are so extra for no reason "place your arm inside the tube" "hey so im naked and scared, can I at least know what it's gonna do" "arm, tube, now"

>okay so check this: Beatrice & Co. just landed at the Bureau of Genetic Welfare, and have just received the faction skinny--so pretty much what happened was genetic modification evolved to the point that it beget a caste system, which in turn led to global war which wiped out most the rest of the planet. However, the Bureau took all the unmodified people and placed them in Chicago under the faction society, in the attempt to breed a holistically perfect person? And that person is Beatrice? I think that person may be Beatrice, but someone should talk to her about all the murder

>shut up Ansel

>I don't mean to typecast but Bill Skarsgård's a villain, yeah

>Jeff Daniels here to deliver Beatrice the god damn news

>ooh ooh ooh ooh, my theory on Divergents from the first post was CORRECT, dingdingding, I win the money. Will elaborate on this in a bit

>HOMEWRECKER

>"our surveillance technology's incredible; it'll be like you're right there. Physically. On the sets we've already built. On the locations we've already secured. State of the art shit, Ansel."

>shut up Ansel

>I'm sorry, but did Veronica get bored of Beatrice or something? We're spending a lot of time with Four, who's best serving as Trophy Boyfriend to Action Girl Psycho. I thought by book three she'd have a grip on this but now we're sending Four on solo projects and keeping Beatrice locked in an office. Odd format for the final book

>no notes on Miles Teller just cockroaching his way through this franchise, I hope he's somehow the leader of Chicago by the end

>we're an hour in and it's felt like three. The first movie spent most of its time in a big warehouse and felt like less of a slog than this

>amused by Jeff Daniels' passing interest in the status of Beatrice and Four's relationship. Friendly man at the pub vibe

>Four just shot a man in the penis. Not really any other way of interpreting that

>always a fan of movies that use that classic punching foley. Ones that're like hitting a watermelon with a bat

>Jeff Daniels just said the word Allegiant like a noun but idk what he's referring to

>Skarsgård Innocent! cool

>you've never seen someone not give a shit like Miles Teller doesn't give a shit in this movie. If his character isn't like this in the book, that's an indictment of the book

>Ansel looks right at home in a gaming chair. He's got dumb streamer face

>Four's mom ain't in no war with nobody. Every large-scale conflict in this movie has the manpower of a chessboard, just the mom and Octavia spencer standing on opposite sides with nine extras each

>oh yeah. Four's got a dad

>we've got more serum, guys. Series has upgraded from injections to neurotoxin, tho

>Four's military friend: "here, take these guns. I'm on your guys' side." Beatrice: "k thanks, I literally don't know who you are"

>the yelling ADR is so funny, dude

>if Miles Teller has 100 fans I'm one of them, etc etc

>i'm a stuntmen pretending to be shot connoisseur and this movie's checking all the boxes

>Beatrice and Four love smooching with exactly one other person in the room

>gotta add another screenshot. I call this piece: "Mother-Son reconciliation while Miles Teller just twiddles with his hands in the background"

>good on the movie to deliver on all those big fans sticking out of the buildings. Wasn't just nonsensical design

>"Don't breathe in the gas!" oh, smart, why did I think of that

>really thought they was gonna pop Miles Teller but he lives another day

>one can nullify the dangers of the amnesia gas by just being quick about it

>shut up Ansel

>they should announce a continuation of this series, get everyone going "ah they're finally gonna make Ascendant" but no it's me delivering the Miles Teller solo film

>ten minutes of credits???

.......................(that's me inhaling) okay, I liked that one less than the previous two. Going off the movie's wikipedia page, I have that feeling in common with the cast. Not a new take but splitting this thing in twain was a demonstrably bad idea. Instead just worked to prove the lack of direction for this Epic Final Installment. I can find enjoyment in watching a stick float down a river, so I'm not a good person to ask wrt pertinent YA criticism, but I'm glad I got Miles Teller. Real MVP of this series.

NEXT UP... more YA. I'm in a mood.

[almalvo]

STAR TREK: DISCOVERY | S1E8 "Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum"

[I will react to each episode individually and in full, raw reception and then post as is unrevised here onto my tumblr for the full span of every and all NuTrek episodes and series that have been and will be released. If this falls under your field of interest - I welcome your company in joining me. Enjoy the ride.] -------

"High Ranking Vulcan". heh. This intro though - it jkust makes me wonder the sheer potential of what couldve been for Trek. Bryan Fuller made a masterpiece called Hannibal. Not too sure on his hand in Trek - imho, it doesnt compare. ANYways. ugh i love seeing hte discovery warp downwards like that Owosekun - love her name such nice colours. consistenty good colours in this show for sure. i like how goldy inside the bridge is oh interesting. what an odd source of warp power its insanely cool though. that CANT be good for stamets. is that foreshadowing did you call her what she will become damn stamets can you be like idk a bit likeable tho please. like plenty of characters who are catty af but likeable in some way if even 1%. ugh. hi tribble. keep tribblin OO SO BLUEEEE SO PRETTYYY This is so weird to me in how this show literally comes out 2 years AFTER AOS3 in terms of production quality.

very pretty landscapes though Saru. aint no way you walkin this terrain with them feets of yours love the trees. saru is so scrawnyyy Saru literally looks amazing in any lighting no joke damn classic trek mist creature living rorschach blot Kol is so cool looking those red accents work beautifully on his face

such lovely colour grading everyones GLOWINGGG there are certainly some wonderful visuals in this show ughhhh Saru, the dust speaker is that a klingon archery set what is that HAHA i wish nah its a torture kit sorry cornwell yelling like that was kind of cringe lolll this pretty blue dust dome that ash and burnham are in is so pretty ugh something im gonna just never take seriously, "Ash x Burnham" nah get out yeah yeah however, Kirk delivered this line beyond any other human's capacity what an empty ass kiss god its so forced. another huge problem with this show is they treat these characters like we know them already but bruh everyone feels so much the stranger to me, even though we are past the halfway point of season 1. is just so weird. i am not invested in like any character, even ones i really thought i would/wanted to be but its liek the show takes them away from me i like how the klingons have a definite accent when they speak terran now L'Rell is so striking looking i love her eyes such a piercing look

see like i WANT to like this away party but like i kind of dont have any real reason to like any of these characters especially with the utter animosity stuff that never got really properly resolved. like between saru and burnham. it feels almost uncomfortable. to me the viewer watching from outside ofc. thats a really pretty flower i dont like this film style it feels too tacky so many stupid zooms so cheap feeling it feels like star trek, Teen Wolf edition. literally feels like its filmed int he same way as things like Teen Wolf that were almost 10 years earlier. its so janky. zero patience and sense to appreciate the scene itself without all this ridiculous cinematic embellishment. its so unnecessary. if even this show did this less, this show would legitimately be 7x better. saru looks so beautiful with that warm white rear light this is such a gorgeous instance of practical effects and they got the PERFECT actor to don saru Ash looks like someone ive literally known in my own life 😭 i love these red jewels on L'Rell's armour/clothing costume and design department did a great great job in this show's production - i have no beef with them.

i like saru's mouth shape its so odd. idk why i feel so detached from this show. oh dang angry saru. ferocious oml yo these are such pretty crystals] saru running in THOSE? HAAHAHAH damn had to CG him hahah that one camera shot was funny though it almost looked like the show said "yes. he can run in these". lol oh damn convincing gore i like how we continue seeing blood in trek with DISCO when i t really started in Enterprise. oh shit ANGRY SARU BRUH HE BACKKICKED HER LIKE A HORSE this stick man being so strong the way hes breaking that device literally looks like classic trek style bundle two hands together and bash DBZ style XD

really pretty tree thing though oooo the transporter circles at the bottom look SOO nice dude look at his detail up close its fucking amazing oh my god such masterfully done painting speckling im genuinely impressed damn, im sorry saru. though i think, who DOES live without fear. man costume design is wonderful. these red markings are really good they compliment their faces really well This is so odd. I have NEVER had this kind of feeling of "detachment" from a Trek production before. The fuck is happening. Ugh.

Not liking Bryan Fuller x Alex Kurtzman directing style in this show, like, at all.

I am just waiting for when this show gets better.

Cuz it's lost a lot of my anticipation.

We'll see. Hopefully.

[gnawonid]

Fare you well, my lady.

[i-cant-sing]

I would like your input on this idea that's been floating in my dome. Baby fushiguro grows into young adult and they somehow find a lover without the zenin clan knowledge and gets engaged. She thinks that maybe that since she has grown perhaps uncle Noaya would AT LEAST see how happy they are and maybe eventually give his blessing.......SIKE BITCH HELL NAH

*young adult fushiguro introduces fiancé*

Uncle Noaya: He's hideous and poor, wont be able to take care of my bby...

*young adult fushiguro shows off ring*

Uncle Noaya: Thats such a small diamond! My bby needs a boulder diamond, see honey he doesnt love you, you deserve someone better!

*young adult fushiguro shows the proposal video*

Uncle Noaya: Where's the parade? Where's the fireworks? Where is the Tier 1 band playing in the background? He's not even proposing on top of the world! Honey look he doesn't even have any Hello Kitty shops owned! You need to break up with him before he takes you away from your Hello Kitty obsession because he'll get so needy!

(Btw sorry if this is long and might look like a request but I'm sorta new and just cant tell the difference between writing a ask or a request)

10000000% true because Naoya really doesn't think anybody is good for you. The only thing you got wrong is that:

1. He'd never be so nice about it and praise you for being superior to your fiance.

2. He'd much rather die than admit that he remembers the name of the pink hellish cat you're obsessed with.

Imagine reader being super nervous as she brings her fiance to the Zenin estate. It was already very hard dating him secretly, but now you felt like you were gonna fight one of the biggest curses of your life. Even that seemed easier than this.

Your fiance was confident that he'd win their hearts, he rubbed your back and assured you that you have nothing to worry about. But he doesn't know your family, he doesn't know how crazy they are.

You and your fiance sat across from your family. He was talking to them about how serious he is about you, how he'd make sure nothing ever upsets you, how he'd happily give up his life for you, all lovey dovey things. He had charmed up your aunties and other females of the family, but the men were a whole another story. They were glaring at him with distrusting eyes, loathing him for daring to steal your heart and plague your naive mind.

But they saw how happy you looked, how you beamed when your fiance held your hand, how you blushed when he tucked your hair behind your ear.

You were truly happy.

So as much as they hated the thought of someone kissing you and plaguing your innocence, they'd put up with it solely because you're happier than you've ever been.

They even do a background check on him, and he checks out. They've all accepted them, well- almost all of them.

Naoya is still in denial that you've dated someone, much less accepted someone's proposal. How had you been able to keep this charade up for years, right under his nose, is beyond him.

So, when you look to him for approval with those big doe eyes, it's really easy for him to say "Absolutely not." to you before leaving. You run after him, begging him to change his mind but all Naoya can think about is how that rat is gonna take you away and do disgusting things to you and traumatise you forever because clearly, no one else can protect you and love you like he does. All men are trash, all except him.

How tf is he supposed to let someone take away the child he raised himself? Youre his pride and joy, the only one to make him soft, the biggest pain in the ass, but you're his pain in the ass.

He simply won't let anyone take you.

Y/n: give me 1 good reason why I can't marry him-

Naoya, pulling out a list: he's too poor, so he can't maintain your lifestyle and will make you a poverty stricken child again. He's also very ugly, so he's not gonna give you good looking kids and he's not really handsome enough for the Zenin clan image. Also, you're stupid and naive to even date such an idiot in the first place-

Y/n: really? These are your reasons. They're ridiculous.

Naoya: ridiculous? They're absolutely valid-

Y/n: no, they're not. You're just jealous because no body wants to marry you.

Naoya:

Y/n:

Naoya:

Y/n: ugly ass ho-

Your poor s/o is just really confused when he comes for you, only to find you and your uncle Naoya fighting (more like Naoya putting you in chokehold while you pull hard at his hair) with each other.

[ghostofbambifanfiction]

Part 1 of ?????

Started writing this fic a while ago and then lost faith in it. Should I continue? Feel bad for not posting much lately so I thought I'd share this. Read on and weigh in.

COME OUT TONIGHT

NO

You don't have to fucking shout?

Said the pot to the kettle?

Oh you grandmother The caps were an accidental by-product of voice-to-text Blame Siri if you're going to blame anyone

You have a Samsung Galaxy S20.

HAD. It got smashed. Worst luck. Listen, come out with me tonight.

Urghhhhhhhhhhhhhh I'm tired!

https://www.boots.com/wellness/vitaminsandsupplements/vitamins-supplements-shop-by-ingredient/echinacea

Hah (indifferent)

Just come out with me! Isaac has to go see some godawful student performance of the Antigone in wherever the fuck Chichester is and it's Sirius's flatmate's birthday party so I have to go and I don't know any of his weird mates

You don't HAVE to go.

Have to/want to Semantics

I'm not in a birthday party mood. I'm having a stressful week. My arse has been tense since Tuesday.

I will wade into the deep and massage your arse if I have to, just come It's a swank pad in Belgravia! I bet they'll have all sorts of expensive nibbles!

I read that as expensive nipples.

Those too!

Partying it up with the children of wealthy Tories. Sounds super fun.

Just come out with me, for fuck I'll pick you up at 7 and we can steal their silverware if it's boring as the grave

URGH I'll go but I'm NOT dressing up!

You don't have to dress up!

FINE!

*

take the drawings down please i'm begging you i'm actually begging you

Nah mate

siriusssssssss pleeeeeease

Nah

PLEASE

Nah

PLEASE ffs it's MY birthday!!!! there are going to be PEOPLE there! standing around! AT EYE LEVEL

I don't see what the problem is.

EVERYONE will see what the problem is! they literally will not be able to IGNORE what the problem is!

Sounds like a recipe for lively discussion to me tbh

that is NOT what i want people talking about at my birthday!

If I take them down, I'll have to take all the nails out and that'll leave nail marks all over the walls. It would be unsightly.

MORE UNSIGHTLY THAN YOUR DICK, SIRIUS?

My dick is bewitching.

DIE

*

She walks in expecting to find herself the infiltrator of a Made in Chelsea/Royal Ascot/Henley Regatta netherworld, filled with a gaggle of giggling, SW-postcode socialites wielding suspiciously powder-edged Harrods Amex cards in the place of horses and boats, but that's not what actually greets her on the other side of the lacquered front door.

What greets her is really quite ordinary.

Aside from the naked drawings of Kingsley's mate, which aren't.

Otherwise, the whole affair is pretty relaxed. People her age are clustered in their small groups, swigging beers. There's a table of oven-heated party foods, salty snacks and rapidly depleting ramekins of guac. She spies more band shirts than there are dress shirts. There's a round of Fortnite in full swing on the TV.

It's all just...startlingly normal. A normal birthday party.

And that's sort of embarrassing, really.

Where are all the visible Tory toffs, she wonders? Where is the braying laughter? The Eton alumni reunion? The glimpse of hunting-happy tweed and shotgun barrels as a coat cupboard door swings shut? Where's the indelible air of sneering superiority, of "we're richer and more privileged and better than you, so fuck the NHS and death to foxes!" that she'd been expecting? There's a fucking Henry Hoover in the corner of the hall, for Christ's sake. Lily came here to smile through her teeth at them all, to listen to the champagne problems privilege that bubbled from their lips and tell herself that she was the one who knew better, who thought better. Her plain white tee and skinny jeans and scuff-toed, high-top trainers were supposed to be a statement, a subtle setting-apart, but she's not even the most underdressed person in the room.

She pre-judged a house full of people. What's that about?

There's a lesson to be found in this. Perhaps.

*

James covered all of the dicks in Paw Patrol stickers that he bought from the newsagent on his way home from his mum's, but Sirius peeled them all off while he was taking a soothing lavender bath, so what's the bloody point in birthdays anyway?

It's early in the evening, and he's wedged—against his will—between the dining room bar and Shane Ruttle, who has just pointed at one of the many lamentable dicks and asked, "Is this one of yours?" which James kind of wants to thump him for. It's bad enough that he looks like a madman who stuffed his house with naked drawings of his brother, now people are actually assuming that he drew the damn things, even though most of the compositions are appallingly far beneath his skill level. He's a professional illustrator, for the love of god, and Shane is really standing before him like the posturing prick he is, asking him if he's the one who drew Sirius with one arm disproportionately longer than the other.

He knows that he should cheer up.

It is his birthday. There is cake.

Good cake, too, not the kind that gets buried in too-thick fondant that he has to pick off before he can eat what's underneath.

The problem is, there's also a party, and his friends are his friends, Peter and Sirius included, and Peter and Sirius can both get drunk much faster than James can. When Peter and Sirius get drunk, serious injuries tend to follow, Remus tends to fuck off in a flash and James tends to be the one who calls for an ambulance or mothers them back to health—physical, mental or otherwise. He has just turned twenty-six, and these repeated, drunkenly dramatic medical emergency scenes are starting to wear a little thin.

Can't a man get comfortably drunk and have a laugh at his own birthday party?

No, he can't, because Peter's already halfway to trashed, wobbling unsteadily towards the French doors that lead to the terrace, wearing that look on his face that says I'm definitely going to vomit or maybe even shit myself like I did on that one night we all spent in Munich with the Belgian handball team and the creepy tour guide who couldn't keep his sleazy hands to himself. For the sake of sparing the lawn such a punishment, James hastily removes himself from Shane, grabs Peter by the collar, shoves him in the direction of the downstairs loo and retreats to the safety of the living room, where there are, at least, no naked drawings of Sirius gracing the walls.

Most of the people in here are transfixed by Saffy Stephens, who is down to the last three in her Fortnite game and cursing like a sailor, but there are a small pile of birthday cards on the end table where James and Sirius normally keep their keys. He perches on the sofa arm, sets his half-drunk beer bottle on the carpet, pushes his dark, disheveled hair away from his forehead and begins leafing through them. It's a necessity when one lives with Sirius, who thinks nothing of swiping gift cards when the mood strikes him and he's had enough to drink.

They're mostly from his female friends, and all pretty standard, until he reaches the middle of the pile and finds a card bearing a picture of a moustached tabby and the caption: Have a Purr-fect Birthday!

The inscription inside is written in a lovely, swirling hand.

To Jasper/Jack/Jason/maybe Ja Rule?/J-something idk

(see above: everything I've learned about you from the friend* I came here with, verbatim)

(*who can't remember your name)

Happy Birthday! Thank you for (not) specifically inviting me, a stranger, to your party to celebrate this momentous event in your life. Please enjoy this festive card/social nicety/convention from me to you. My friend brought rum which you may prefer.

I'll be around. Not that you'll know.

LE

James lowers the card and twists on the sofa arm at once, eyes darting around the room in search of its author, as if they might be laying in wait to watch him read it and see how he reacts. Nobody appears to have ducked behind the couch, however, so the situation merits further scrutiny.

Obviously, he needs to meet this person.

A mystery! At his birthday party!

He perks right up after that.

*

She's coming out of the downstairs loo when a short, blonde man in a garish Hawaiian shirt barrels past her and pukes all over the chequerboard tiled floor, narrowly missing her jeans.

"Oh no," he moans into his wet hands. "Oh no—"

"There there, mate," says Lily consolingly, never one to judge somebody for getting drunk early at a party. She pats him on the back before squeezing past him and rejoining Kingsley, who is standing in one of this meandering Georgian house's many hallways, chatting to a bloke in a houndstooth sweater vest and holding two glasses of something very, very sparkly that she must try at once.

"It's like...it's like everything and nothing at the same time," Houndstooth Bloke is saying when Lily draws close, gesturing to a huge canvas painting of a rain-soaked fairground at night.

"Is it?" Kingsley asks.

"Mmm. Very." Houndstooth shakes his shoulders like he's slipping out of a robe. "Meant to be esoteric, I suppose."

That sounds suspiciously like pretentious bullshit to Lily, who doesn't find the concept of a merry looking fairground all that difficult to absorb. Kingsley knows more about the art world than she does, but he must agree with her assessment because he grunts and shoves her glass into her hand when she stops beside him, and more roughly than she deserves, as if she's the one who landed him in this mess of a conversation to begin with.

Trust him to find himself stuck with the only dick (not etched by a 4B Steadtler graphite pencil) in the building, and trust her to be stuck with the person who got himself stuck with King.

"What are we talking about?" she asks brightly, just to fuck with him.

"Drink your champagne, there's a good little hen," King mutters, his teeth clenched together, hallway lights bouncing off the smoothly waxed dome of his bald head.

"We've been discussing this piece." Houndstooth nods to the painting, but his limpid eyes narrow on Lily's face. "Christ, you're very redheaded, aren't you?"

It's decided. She'll wait 'til Houndstooth is drunk and trip him up with Henry Hoover's hose.

"Ergo soulless, yes," she agrees.

"And you...enjoy that?" he asks, as if being redheaded is her profession.

"Very much, thanks."

"Hmmp. Well. I came here with Saffron," he announces, pronouncing it Sef-ron. As if Lily is supposed to know who that is. "Platonically, of course. Actually, we're some sort of cousins, I think. What do you think the artist is trying to convey?"

He's very pointedly asking her, so Lily blinks at the painting, her eyes on the outstretched arm of a child on the carousel.

"I like the pretty colours," she decides aloud.

"Right," says Houndstooth, "but that's not—"

"And the lights, too. The lights are really pretty."

"But—"

"I love funfairs, actually," she brightly continues, finding a strange satisfaction in playing dumb in front of Houndstooth and his overbleached fade. Although she does really like the colours. "Haven't been to one in years!"

"Yes, good, whatever, but what is the artist trying to convey?"

"What artist?" comes a voice from behind them.

Lily glances over her shoulder and finds herself looking up at the man whose penis she's spent the past thirty minutes avoiding eye contact with, though he is taller, better proportioned and infinitely more beautiful than any of those crudely drawn depictions could possibly convey. He is also beplumed and bejewelled like a pirate, wearing a sumptuous velvet jacket over a loose white shirt, numerous rings on his fingers and an assortment of silver chains around his slender neck, while his grey eyes and elegantly high-set cheekbones are framed by a tumble of black hair that genuinely looks like silk.

The man is so beautiful, in fact, that Lily immediately wonders why he's been taking sketches home from the life drawing class that he and Kingsley pose for—hence their acquaintance and Lily's presence at this party—when nothing she's seen tonight has done him any justice.

Most happily, his penis is tucked safely out of sight.

"Alright, Sirius?" says King.

"Alright, Marvel?" Sirius claps a hand to the taller man's massive shoulder. Kingley's muscles bulge in a way that cannot be hidden by modern habiliments. "What are we talking about?"

"Not much." Houndstooth looks put out by the arrival of yet another person. "We were just mesmerised by this piece."

Lily refrains from gesturing to the painting with both hands and a "ta-dah!" choosing instead to sip her champagne.

It's very good champagne. Mmm. Yes.

"Oh, yeah, it's really something," Sirius agrees. He brushes past Kingsley and runs a finger over the illegible squiggle of a signature on the canvas. His nails are beautifully manicured. "Local guy, young up-and-comer. I assume you've heard of Algernon?" he asks Houndstooth, fixing him with a steely-eyed stare.

"Er, yes." Houndstooth's gaze slides from Sirius to the painting. "I know him."

Sirius's eyebrows lift. "Know him personally?"

"Well—"

"That's so weird, I heard he never speaks to people."

Houndstooth chews on the inside of his cheek, weighing up the challenge. "How…funny."

"Funny?"

"Oh, nothing. It's just, I know I've spoken to him before, and since you've bought his painting I assumed that you'd have—"

"That is funny, actually," Sirius interrupts, "because the artist is my brother, and Algernon is the name of his cat."

Kingsley has been tugging on his earring and almost rips it out of his ear as his body convulses, champagne spraying from his nostrils, while an alarming red flush sweeps across Houndstooth's face and he begins to sputter on his own self-importance. Sirius has clearly decided that he's done with all of that noise, however, because he turns back to Lily instead, looking her up and down with great and sudden interest.

"Who's this then?" he asks Kingsley, cocking his head to one side. "James's present?"

The champagne glass swings down and Lily fixes him with a deadpan stare. "Excuse me?"

Sirius slants a grin at Kingsley, a quick flash of teeth. "This one's queenly, isn't she?"

Kingsley wipes his nose with the back of his hand and laughs again. "Hardly."

"This is Primark, mate," Lily retorts, tugging on her t-shirt.

"Queenliness is a state of mind," says Sirius, "not a state of wardrobe."

"You had me marked down as a prostitute not ten seconds ago."

"Oh, that. I was only joking," he sighs, and grips her arm at the elbow, his long fingers cool against her skin. "But still, you're far too attractive to stand here talking to this clown. Come with me and I'll find you someone better."

*

James's friends are useless.

And drunk. Useless and drunk—or sort of drunk, in Saffy's case. Remus is certainly already pissed, but Remus is on meds so often that he drinks but once in a blue moon. One cocktail is usually enough to set him off, and he's been hard at the gin since he turned up with Peter at six.

"I don't know anyone with those initials," Saffy declares, once she has read, examined and even sniffed the birthday card for clues. "Except for Lisa Edelstein."

"Who's Lisa Edelstein?"

"Cuddy from House," says Remus, lowering the negroni from which he has been drinking deeply.

James pulls a face. "What the fuck is a Cuddy?"

"Oh, actually, it could mean le?" Remus suggests.

"Yes!" Saffy points at him like he might be onto something. "Like the French word for the?"

"Exactly, like—"

"It doesn't mean that!" James interrupts, unwilling to allow such profanity in his home. "That doesn't make sense, why would somebody sign their name as the?"

"Now you're asking me to explain how French people think?" says Saffy derisively, adjusting her bra strap beneath that burnt orange waistcoat she loves, the one that makes her look like she's directing a pornographic movie in the 70s when she pairs it with her tortoiseshell-framed aviators. It clashes wildly with her electric blue buzz-cut. "Am nooooo drunk enough for that."

"They could be one of those one word moniker pop stars, I suppose," Remus pipes up, smiling slyly. "You know, like Madonna?"

They think James doesn't realise that they're taking the piss out of him, but neither of them are sober enough to attempt their gambit with any kind of subtlety or grace.

"You know that's actually her real Christian name?" says Saffy.

Remus turns towards her with interest. "What, Madonna?"

"Yeah!"

"Really?"

"Yeah!" Saffy repeats. "I thought it couldn't possibly be her real name because, I mean, Madonna, yeah? But then I looked it up and apparently that's the name her mummy gave her, just goes to show—"

"I'm sorry," James interrupts, "but is Madonna relevant to this conversation?"

"Yes, always," says Saffy.

"She's an international pop megastar," Remus seconds.

James stares at his friend incredulously. "Drinking really chips away at your wit, y'know?"

"Does it?" Remus grins lazily and jiggles his cocktail in the air. "Oh, well, I'm negronly joking."

Saffy does a spit-take without the spit and clings helplessly to Remus's shoulder as she laughs, knees buckling, bangles tinkling, but James fights his own urge to start snickering.

"It's not that funny," he lies, and Remus eyes him with an alarmingly teacher-like shrewdness, despite the tellingly intoxicated flush that has crept into his thin, freckled face.

James's love of puns is tragically well known.

"You didn't get it." Remus points at his drink. His speech is starting to slur. "This is a negroni, what I said was—"

"Yeah, I got that part, I just—"

"Jesus fuck, look at her!" Saffy suddenly hisses, staggering sideways into Remus and sending him into the wall in a flurry of giggles—Remus giggling?—her voice hushed and urgent. "Who the hell is that?!"

James does look, following the direction of Saffy's gaze. Sirius has just entered the living room, casually clutching the elbow of a……

……goddess.

An actual. Like. Goddess.

A goddess. In James's house. In his living room. In the place where he eats his chocolate boulder cereal and rewatches Scrubs (even season 9, which is hilarious, and very unfairly disparaged by Joe Public) on Saturday mornings.

She's a goddess. A real one, and cleverly disguised as a mortal, sure, with her slouchy white t-shirt and her big hoop earrings and her light blue jeans that are torn at the knees, wearing her shoulder-length red hair half up, half down and slightly messy, but that doesn't hide what she is.

"Oh my god," he murmurs. His heart is pounding all of a sudden, which is so...utterly bloody stupid, but Saffy's right, bloody look at her, Jesus fuck.

"Surely she can't be with Sirius?" Saffy murmurs back.

"No, she—" He watches Sirius lean down to mutter something in the redhead's ear. A ghost of a laugh flits across her beautiful face. "She's not his—he isn't—"

"D'you think—"

"No, I—"

"Good," says Saffy firmly. She lets go of Remus and rises, lengthening her spine. It is a battle stance of some sort, presumably. "Because I saw her first."

"No!" James cries, wounded, and the redhead shoots him a curious look with a pair of eyes that are startlingly emerald green, even from all the bloody way over here. He spins to face Saffy and lowers his voice, face burning. "It's my house!"

"What are you arguing here, ownership rights?"

"No but it—it's my birthday!" James retorts, jabbing at his own chest. "And, actually, and—"

"It's in the bloody post!"

"—you didn't get me a present!" he finishes in triumph, not that he knows what he's arguing for, because the likelihood is that his tongue will glue itself to the roof of his mouth if he even dares to look in her direction one more time. "Plus I set you up with Vanya Petrich, with whom, as I recall, you enjoyed four years—"

"Stop throwing that in my face!"

"—four blissful years—"

"Is it my fault that you've never fancied any girl I've set you up with?!"

"—promised me an Easter ham for setting you up with her and I never got it—"

"So now you'll trade a woman for a ham?" Saffy accuses, though her face is too lit up, her brown eyes too crinkled at the corners—she's having fun with this and she isn't going to fool him and she knows it. "That's so low, even—"

"Don't start with that," James scathingly cuts in. "You offered me Sean Connery's autograph for Bonnie Grogan's number—"

"Which you never gave me!"

"Because you forged the bloody signature!"

"And now she's bloody married!"

"Yeah, well, Isabella wouldn't give me a counterfeit present, would she?" he retorts, and Saffy lets her shoulders drop, smirking. "This is pointless, Saf, we can't—"

"She's just left with Sirius," Remus informs them, and burps.

[asterkiss]

What A Catch!: Chapter 7

Pairing: Bill/Mabel Synopsis: Mabel was a mermaid who didn't ask for much. In fact, all she pretty much wanted from her soulmate was a romantic first meeting where he would sweep her off her fins. Unfortunately, fate had other plans. Her soulmate didn't so much sweep her off her fins as he trapped her in a fish net. [Read on AO3 here]

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8  | Chapter 9 |  Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 |

CHAPTER 7: GROWTH

Another year, another hunting season.

Fifteen year old Mable Pines took the hands of the larger girl before her in the water, using magic to heal the bloody gash marks upon her skin. She sighed forlornly at the sight. 'How did this happen, Grenda?'

The taller brunette hummed. 'Peanut butter.'

The mermaid blinked. That hadn't been the answer she was expecting. '....Peanut butter?'

When Grenda only nodded firmly in response, Mable looked towards the third and final member of their current trio for clarification. The kappa smiled in amusement as their eyes met and Candy came forward as she offered further explanation.

'There was a giant jar of peanut butter on the seafloor which turned out to be a trap. The second she moved the jar the netted dome snapped shut atop her like a clam. Even though she used her hands and tentacles to try and escape it was me who managed to cut a hole so she could get out.'

'You hurt your tentacles too?' Mable asked, peering down.

'Nah they're fine,' Grenda replied dismissively, raising some of the dark tentacles that comprised her lower form out of the water to show them off. 'My tentacles have thick skin and aren't that easy to cut. It's just my hands that got messed up.'

The mermaid nodded as she finished healing her cecaelia friend, retracting her hands once completed. 'Done. How's that feel?'

Greanda clenched and unclenched her hands. 'Whoah, there's barely a scratch left! You're getting super cool with the healing thing.'

She grinned. 'Well, small injuries are no biggie.' Over the past year she'd been steadily getting better with her abilities. It was useful for times like this when her best friends had minor injuries. Candy and Grenda were her two closest friends (other than Dipper ― but that didn't count when they were related) and a lot of it stemmed from the fact all three were marine-based creatures. Well, that and also their similar hobbies in gushing over pretty boys.

'I saw a Hunter putting down a bunch of fish traps the other day,' Candy added. 'Some of them were pretty scary looking.'

Mable's smile faded.

'Urgh, I heard there's two of them this year,' Grenda groaned.

'Did you hear? Apparently Soos had a close call and got shot.'

'Whoah, is he okay?'

'Yeah, he came away fine. He's made of clay after all.'

Mable's lips pressed into a thin line as her two friends discussed frantically. She hadn't seen either of the alleged hunters this season round.

'See ya next year.'

Clenching her fists she felt the familiar bubble of anxiety welling in her chest at the thought of the blond whose name she still didn't know.

He was trying to hurt her friends.

She wasn't aware that last year he had had any success with kills of the magical creature variety, just fish and other small-fry game. As a result it had been easier to ignore his attempts. This year however was different. She wasn't the only one who had improved her skills in the past twelve months it appeared.

She wouldn't be able to ignore it if he seriously hurt someone.

It was on that thought that Mable felt the odd sensation of being watched, a feeling that caused the hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end. The young mermaid slowly cast her gaze across the river towards the treeline and it was there she caught the flash of golden eyes watching out from behind the shadows of the trees. When their eyes met he seemed almost surprised that she'd spotted him, and both stared at one another in similar bewilderment. Mable felt her heart skip a beat, a mix of different emotions swirling in her chest as her entire body tensed. He didn't seem inclined to be drawing closer however and there was no weapon in his hands.

...So why was he watching them?

'Hey Mable, are you okay?'

She was yanked out of her turmoiled thoughts by Candy's soft spoken voice and it was then the brunette found two pairs of concerned eyes upon her. She faltered in offering a response, her eyes snapping back towards the treeline once more.

But he was no longer there.

That did nothing to ease her trepidation though.

Aware that her friends were still awaiting an answer she plastered on a wide smile. 'I'm fine, really. Just hungry. Let's go hunt some food, shall we girls?' She tried not to make it too obvious she was ushering them away from their current spot, not wishing to cause them panic with mention of the Hunter. From the way Grenda and Candy side-eyed one another Mable doubted they bought her fake smile or excuse.

But even so―

'Let's go grab some grub then!' Grenda yelled, fist pumping the air as she splashed water over both girls with her rambunctious movements. Even though they clearly didn't believe her lie they would go along with it. It was just another reason why Mable loved them.

That's why if anybody tried to hurt them, even her soulmate, she would do everything in her power to protect them.

The three girls swam further down stream, their voices fading as they caught the current.

A heavy clad boot stepped out of the undergrowth once they were gone, watching them vanish with a steely gaze though his eyes lingered on the mermaid in particular. She wasn't as much of a pipsqueak as she had been last year, she'd grown. Maybe she'd also outgrown the silly notion of them being soulmates ― he could only hope.

Bill rubbed the back of his neck as he breathed out through his nose. He'd left Kryptos alone for half an hour so he could have a break from the younger kid but he should get back, he didn't want to leave his cousin alone for too long. Who knows what shenanigans he'd get into? Shenanigans that would probably backfire on him.

He was turning to leave when something shiny from one of the river rocks caught his attention. The young man paused before crouching down on the embankment and stretching out his hand to grab it. When he pulled it close, he found himself staring at an iridescent pink scale that glittered under the suns rays.

A mermaid scale.

There were a few of them actually, the kid must be shedding as she grew.

'I can’t wait to hunt myself a mermaid!’

He clenched his jaw at the thought of the overeager twerp and could just imagine his excitement if his eyes landed on this. After a moment of consideration the hunter brushed the scales off the rocks and into the water, ensuring they got caught in the current and pulled far away out of sight. He just enjoyed making things difficult for his bratty relative, that was all. Really.

Even so, Bill found himself pocketing the solitary scale in his grasp as he stood up. Turning on his heel he left the river behind and returned to the trees, picking up the rifle he'd left leaning against a tree trunk as he did so.

Time to return to babysitting.

[codylabs]

December’s Wrath

Chapter 1

It hadn't been a simple decision to leave California and his family and his sister to go spend the holidays in Gravity Falls with Wendy. But that was the decision he had made, and by the time he was really starting to question whether or not it was the right one, he had already crossed the state line into Oregon, and the rumble of the bus's engine had lulled him halfway to sleep. Thoughts like his parents' and his grandparents' disappointment at his absence, thoughts like Mabel wishing he could be there to see her new Hanukkah sweater, thoughts like the price of the bus fare, thoughts like the incomprehensible breadth of miles increasing between him and home, thoughts like the knowledge that the Corduroys had 'apocalypse training' instead of any kind of holiday celebration, thoughts like he wasn't prepared, thoughts like high clouds and dark trees and rare sun, these were the thoughts drifting through his head. Thoughts like he was right. Thoughts like he was wrong.

It was a starless night outside the bus, so all he could see beyond the window was a foot and a half of whirling snowflakes, and his own reflection, both layers tinted a grim color by the bus's pinkish interior lights. Crystals of frost were growing on the outside of the window, his breath was condensing on the inside of the window, and he was fast asleep a minute later, and his dreams were sad and lonely and brave and cold, cold, a terrible and cutting cold that pierced to the bone, clawed like an eagle's talons. His dream was a walking dream, while Wendy called him forward and Mabel called him back. The wind was calling too, but not in any specific direction. It just called.

The dawn came around 8:00, he woke up around 8:30, the bus left him at the stop around 9:00, and Wendy met him around 9:01. He almost didn't recognize her at first, beneath the layers of unfamiliar winter clothes, the gloves twice the size of her hands, the grey jacket and the baggy pants. It was only her face by which he identified her, peaking out from the middle of the hood. There was a light in her eyes and a smile on her lips, and he only barely had time to recognize her before she grabbed him in a hug and lifted him off the ground. "EEEEEYY It's good to see you man!" She hollered as she twirled him around. Her words were drowned out for a split second by the hissing of the bus's brakes as it moved off down the road. "How's it been going?"

"It's been going good!" She hugged her back until she set him back down. His backpack threatened to tip him over as he landed but he managed to catch himself. The ground was icy. He took a deep breath of the chill air as he shrugged the pack higher onto his shoulders and tightened the straps. "Good to see you too! I've really been missing this place! And, uh, and you, and everyone. How about you? How have you been?"

"Oh, same, you know how it is!" She punched him in the shoulder. Her breath crystallized in the air in front of her smile, and for just a moment, she looked to him like the most beautiful thing in the world. "Same as last time you were here, same as last time you called, same... I mean, what changes, man? School still sucks, weather still sucks, life's going great."

"Mood." He agreed, even though school had never really sucked that much for him, and the weather wasn't too bad, was it? It had stopped snowing, at least. "Anyway, I packed as best I could, I got my whole winter... Outfit. On." He gestured inclusively to his heavy jacket, heavy boots, three pants, and gloves, and took some reassurance that she was dressed similarly. "And uhhh toothbrush and sleeping bag and stuff. Is there anything else I need? I've never gone hiking in the winter."

"Nah, you're good. And if you're not, don't worry, we don't set out until after breakfast, and dad'll get you squared away once we get to the house." She led the way toward the Corduroy truck, parked on the roadside. "You got a change of clothes at least?"

"Yeah."

"Eh." She gave a dismissive shrug as they climbed into the truck. "You'll be fine." She was right, she was wrong.

As Dipper tossed his backpack into the back seat and made to close the door, his vision was almost completely obscured for a moment as a gust of wind pushed the vapor of his exhale back into his face. He blinked for just a moment, almost startled, and then as his breath dissipated, his eyes landed on the forest.

The forest.

It was the same forest he'd known before. The same valley, the same cliffs, the same mountains, same dome, same trees, same grass and ferns, he recognized that bend in the road, and that sign, and that water tower. But at the same time, this couldn't be the same place. Could it? The old woods were green, green and brown, and crowned with gold beneath a blue sky. These woods were grey. Grey within grey, grey as pale as snow on the fingertips of the trees and grass, grey as dark as night in the spaces beneath. The sky was grey too, no blue, no shapes of clouds, no penetrating ray of sunshine, all the world stood as if encased in prison.

It was beautiful, to be sure. Beautiful as art. But Dipper couldn't shake the nonsensical feeling that the bus had taken him to some alternative reality, some timeline where the bombs had dropped or the sun had gone out or time had frozen, that his eyes were seeing some grim warning vision and not reality. As he gazed out at that sight that used to look like a playground or a second home or some magnificent untold adventure waiting to happen, he thought, at this moment, that it looked something more like an enemy; a world-sized monster, some overbearing rival of mankind itself. He found himself sizing it up.

As Wendy watched him doing so, watched his eyes travel the landscape with a look so needlessly grim and fearless, for just a moment, he looked to her like the most handsome thing in the world. "Eh, I guess the weather's not so bad." She shrugged.

"...Yeah." He finally climbed fully inside and closed the door. "Not so bad at all." He was right, he was wrong. They rolled off down the road, toward the tall old woods where the Corduroy cabin lay hidden.

Dipper had been expecting some sort of grim, apprehensive, even frightened mood when they entered the house, (the whole 'apocalypse' motif having prepared him for the worst) but was pleasantly surprised to find the place full of laughter. Dan was bent over the stove cooking pancakes and shoveling nuts into bags, while the boys zipped around the house with their backpacks, thinking and rethinking and packing and repacking. Conversation loud and boisterous filled the air, about past trips and future trips and present trips, about weather and trees and old campfire stories and whatever else lumberjacks and mountain men talk about. Wendy joined right back in with it too, reminding her dad to bring the jerky, telling her brother to find the radio, getting told by another brother to bring an extra jacket, and all five of them were arguing about whether one person should carry all the toilet paper, or whether they should all bring their own, or whether they should just rough it off the land and wipe with leaves.

Somehow, though was no tree in the house, and no presents or decorations or cookies or little colored lights either, something about the joy and the togetherness of it all struck Dipper as belonging to a Christmas mood.

"YOU." Dan boomed down in Dipper's direction. He spun with a start to look up into the enormous man's face. "You got a knife on ya, boy?"

"Uh y-yeah. Got one right here." He nodded.

"Got matches?"

"Nope."

"You'll need matches." Dan tapped one enormous finger on a paper on the fridge; a packing list. "Need all this on here. Ask Wendy if you don't know where anything is."

"Awesome. Okay." As Dipper joined the rush, a smile touched his face, and he began to suspect that this would be a good Christmas after all. Different, for sure, different of course, but it may not be so hard, it might not be so worse. This was family, after all, a very close and loving family, and when a family is close and loving, nothing that ever happens to it seems quite so bad.

And besides, Christmas was more than just presents and decorations, wasn't it? More than just a few colorful nonsense traditions. A lot more.

But without all that, what was it exactly?

They were all packed by the time pancakes were done (As they had to be. Part of the Corduroy tradition was to leave immediately after breakfast no matter what; in a real apocalypse they wouldn't have much more warning than that, after all.) With Wendy's help Dipper had managed to get packed with everything on Dan's list, all except for a compass; the family had only six, and the sixth wasn't for using. He'd just finished zipping up his pack by the time breakfast was ready. The warm smell drew them together into the kitchen, and they set in.

"What was your name again?" Dipper looked up from his pancakes to see Wendy's youngest brother frowning across the table at him, mumbling words through a full mouth.

"Dipper." He nodded, and realized he'd never actually talked with any of Wendy's brothers, and didn't actually know anything about any of them. "...I never got you guy's names?"

"I'm Gus." The 11-year-old pointed a pair of thumbs in his own direction. "I'm the cool one."

"And I'm Marcus." Said the 15-year-old, and extended a hand to shake Dipper's. "I'm the actual cool one."

"I'm Wendy." Said Wendy, not even looking up from her phone. "I'm your girlfriend."

"I'm Kevin." Said the 13-year-old. He glanced Dipper up and down. "I bet I could take you."

That took Dipper off-guard.

Wendy snorted.

"Hey, be nice." Marcus snapped. "He's a guest!"

"You be nice." Kevin retorted.

"Everyone fight!" Gus cheered.

"EVERYONE BE NICE!" Dan thundered.

Silence descended rather immediately. u could take him. Wendy texted Dipper under the table.

Not gonna try???? He texted back.

By 10:00 their packs and supplies were all stacked in the back of the truck, and they were underway.

By 10:30 the truck was parked and locked at the end of a narrow logging road, with six sets of footprints leading away from it, deeper into the woods.

That was Friday, the 20th of December. Next week on Wednesday would be Christmas. The very next day, Saturday, was the solstice, when the days would be the shortest of the year and the sun would be dimmest, and the things the light drives out would feel most free to rise.

By 11:00 they were out of range of the cell towers, and there was nobody who could help them.

The sun flared yellow through the briefest gap in the overcast sky.

The wind howled.

A tree broke and fell with nobody to hear it.

The spirit heard it.

[notes-from-sarah]

Part  1 - The Truth

Link on Archive of Our Own

Link on Fanfiction.net

Parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

Rating: G/K

Summary: Hera finally discovers the truth about Kanan’s past. Pre-Star Wars: Rebels

A/N: This work is canon compliant for the first three seasons of the show but does not necessarily draw from the tie-in books, comics and other materials.

*****

Wandering through Ghost, Hera was trying to find Chopper. He wasn't answering her calls and she hoped he hadn't ended up short circuiting himself somewhere hard to get to. She had just acquired a new regulator for him which would help with the short circuiting problem. Now, if only she could find her little friend. Walking down the hall to the crew quarters she opened doors as she went. Chopper had been messing around with the wiring in some of the cabins in an attempt to make the lighting more consistent and less energy consumptive. She expected to find the droid keeled over on the floor with one of his clamp arms still sparking from the power surge.

Slapping the release to each room she stuck her head inside and took a look around. Chopper wasn't in the first two rooms, or her room. Hera pressed the last release then a microsecond later remembered that this was Kanan's room and she hadn't knocked first. She jabbed the button to close the door again but it was already opening and wouldn't respond to a close signal until it'd opened all the way first. She half thought about turning away and pretending she hadn't opened the door so spontaneously, but opted for knocking on the door frame instead. She hoped she wasn't intruding. She also hoped that maybe it was just Chopper inside, not Kanan.

Kanan was inside. The lights to the room were turned off and he was sitting in the center of the floor. His legs were drawn up in a cross-legged position and his hands were resting on his knees. His eyes had been closed but they opened when the light from the hallway spilled into his dark room. Hera had a very strong feeling that she'd barged into something personal.

"Sorry, love," she said in a hushed voice, "I didn't mean to bother you."

Kanan didn't look bothered. "It's no problem." He smiled. Hera loved it when he smiled. "What'd you need?"

"I was looking for Chopper, I have the regulator I was waiting for." Hera patted the pocket of her flight suit where the regulator was secured. "Sorry again, I'll leave you to your, uh, praying."

Kanan shook his head and got to his feet. "Nah, I'm done anyway. I'll help you look for Chop."

The two of them scoured the ship looking for Chopper who didn't seem to be anywhere. The entire time Hera was more than a little curious about what she'd seen. She never thought of Kanan as a religious person. He never spoke about spiritual matters or sported any talismans. Catching him in the middle of some sort of religious observance seemed strangely out of character.

At long last they located Chopper in the storage closet. The droid was indeed keeled over, clamp arm extended after some sort of electrical shock.

Kanan bent down to set the droid upright. "Looks like he found a surge." He laughed a little. "Couldn't happen to a nicer droid."

Hera shot Kanan a nonplussed look. "Chopper was trying to help reduce our general energy consumption and make Ghost more efficient." Kneeling down next to the droid she fished the regulator out of her pocket. "And once I get this installed he should be back to full-functioning again."

"You say that as if he's ever functioned in the first place." Kanan patted Chopper's dome.

Hera snapped the regulator into place and brought Chopper's circuits back online. "Don't you listen to him Chop. You're the best droid anyone could ask for." She glanced up at Kanan who was looking down at her with a skeptical eyebrow raised as high as it would go.

"Really?" he said. "You're just going to lie like that?"

Hera swatted Kanan's leg playfully. "Chopper is the best droid. You're just being mean."

Kanan pulled Hera back to her feet. "You can keep saying that, but it doesn't make it true."

Hera patted Chopper's dome. "You just can't see his full potential yet." She glanced back at Kanan. She knew she hadn't seen his full potential yet either. She wondered what he was keeping under the surface.

*****

"You in the mood to run some errands with me?" Hera accepted a cup of tea from Kanan as she entered the galley.

Kanan shrugged. "Sure. What're we picking up?"

"Just a few crates of helpful equipment." Hera sipped the tea, it was good. She loved the way Kanan made tea. "I think some generators and maybe some speeder bikes."

"I'm sold, I've been telling you for months now that we need to get some speeder bikes." Kanan sat down with his own cup of tea, half an eye on the pot of porridge that was bubbling away.

"We need to get into the city and meet our contact, then I'll bring Ghost to the rendezvous point and make the pickup."

"Sounds good to me," said Kanan.

...

Their rendezvous point was the rooftop of a multistory building. The only way to access the roof was by climbing the fire escape on the outside. Kanan was ahead of Hera and climbing a lot faster than she was. She didn't exactly relish climbing up the outside of a building but it didn't seem to bother Kanan any. She made a note of that in case any free-solo climbing was needed in the future.

Kanan reached the roof and was immediately hailed by another being. Kanan looked down the ladder at Hera. "You doing okay down there?"

"I'll be there in just a second, you go ahead." Hera focused on the task at hand and tried not to think about climbing all the way back down the ladder in just a few moments. Maybe she should start trusting Kanan to do these meetings without her.

She froze when, from the rooftop, the sound of blasterfire filled the air. Adrenaline flooded through her body and spurred her to climb the remaining rungs as fast as she was capable. She popped her head over the edge of the rooftop just in time to see the tussle. Laying prone on the roof was one being who Hera knew was their contact, she seemed to be injured. At the far end of the roof another being, who Hera could only assume was some sort of jilted business associate, was wrestling with Kanan for control of a blaster. The being, a rodian with a dangerous look about her, delivered a kick to Kanan's solar plexus. Kanan stumbled backward, his fingers around the blaster he had managed to pry from the rodian's hands. His foot slipped off the edge of the roof and he tumbled over the far side of the building.

"Kanan!" Hera screamed. Instantly, her blood turned to ice. There was no way any human could survive a fall like that. Their contact, who had been lying prone, suddenly rolled onto her back and fired three shots at the rodian. The rodian fell to her knees clutching her arm.

Hera climbed down the ladder as fast as she could, cursing at her inability to just drop to the ground unharmed. Stumbling through the series of ladders and landings that made up the fire escape Hera raced to ground level. All the while images of Kanan's body on the pavement flashed through her head. Jumping off the ladder three rungs from the bottom she turned to run around the building to discover what gruesome thing had happened to him.

Before she even took two steps, however, Kanan came running from the back of the building, rodian blaster in hand. She stared at him, not quite believing her eyes. "Kanan," she said, trying to formulate a question that wasn't something along the lines of: why aren't you dead?

Running over to Hera he looked around the vicinity. "Which way did she go?"

Hera blanked. What in the galaxy was he talking about? "Are you hurt?" she managed to say at last.

Kanan looked back at her. "No, I," he looked up at the top of the building and seemed to realize how far he'd fallen. "Oh. Yeah, I'm okay."

Hera ran her hands over his arms just to make sure he was really here. "You scared me to death. I thought I'd find you in pieces on the pavement."

Kanan gave her a disarming smile. "Can't get rid of me that easy."

She gave his shoulders one last squeeze now that she was reassured he wasn't some ghost. "I don't want to get rid of you at all." Looking back up at the roof she saw the tail end of a speeder zipping away. Their assailant was long gone by now. "I guess we'll have to see if we can try this again some other time."

Kanan nodded. "Yeah, we're not having any luck today, let's get out of here before we attract too much attention."

As they hurried back to Ghost Hera tried with all her might to figure out a scenario where Kanan didn't die from injuries after falling from a height like that. What was even weirder to her was that Kanan didn't even seem a little roughed up. Not even a limp or anything to show that he'd fallen more than fifty meters. She even double checked around the back of the building but there was nothing that could have broken his fall. It was almost as if he'd grown wings and flown to the ground.

They did manage to make the pickup the following day. After making the exchange their injured contact melted away into the city while she and Kanan loaded the cargo into Ghost. Hera's questions about Kanan's miraculous survival, however, stayed.

*****

Hera leaned over the railing of the catwalk and looked down on the scene below. "Kanan, do you still have my good hydrospanner?" Hera needed to get into Phantom and make a few adjustments to the small ship.

Kanan was sitting in the cargo bay surrounded by various speeder bike parts as he tried to get their recently acquired bikes into working order. "Yeah, it's in my room." He looked up at her. "It's on the bunk, I think."

Hera suppressed a smile. Kanan had a smear of oil on his forehead (probably from messing with his hair) and looked quite the sight. "Okay. How's it going with those speeder bikes? Do you need me to get you anything?"

Kanan looked around at the chaos of the cargo bay. "I'll let you know. Chop's here helping me so I think I'm good."

Chopper waved one of his little arms to show that he was indeed being helpful.

Hera waved back at Chopper. "Alright, if you need me I'll be in Phantom." Turning, she made for Kanan's cabin.

Flicking on the light as she entered, Hera looked around. The hydrospanner was not on Kanan's bunk, nor was it immediately visible on any of the surfaces. She hoisted herself up to take a gander at the upper bunk before dropping back to the floor. It wasn't there either. She wondered if Kanan had maybe left it somewhere not in his room but had forgotten. Turning away from the bunk she caught her foot on one of the under-bunk drawers that had been hanging just a little bit open. The drawer flew open and Hera heard some of the contents go clanking across the floor.

Cursing and grabbing her pained toe Hera glanced around trying to see what had been ejected from the drawer and where it had gone. Halfway across the room she saw two pieces of metal tube. Blast! Hera thought to herself, I broke it! She hoped Kanan wouldn't be too upset. Scooping up the pieces she tried to put them back together. They perfectly locked into place and Hera sighed with relief, but only for a second.

Looking down at the object in her hand she was suddenly very aware of what it was. A shadow at the door caused her to look up. Kanan was standing there, hydrospanner in hand.

"Hera, I-" Kanan stopped dead. His eyes widened in surprise.

Neither of them spoke for what seemed like several eternities. In her mind, everything fell into place. Every little oddity, all those little quirks. The praying, the falling off a building and walking away like nothing had happened. All those things Kanan had hinted at in his past but had never explained. The weird way he seemed to have been brought up. Why he'd been left to roam the galaxy by himself at fourteen. It all made sense now.

"Well," said Kanan, "I guess you know everything now." His tone was flat and guarded.

Hera held the lightsaber out to Kanan. "It fell out of your drawer, I thought I broke it."

Accepting the weapon he looked down at it. "No, I keep it in its pieces."

Hera studied him closely. She could see he was on edge, his shoulders were tensed and his mouth was a thin line. She needed to dial back the pressure. Taking a step closer to him she put her hand over the one that was holding his lightsaber. "Tell me about it?" It was an invitation, not an order.

Kanan tore his eyes away from the lightsaber and looked into Hera's face. He searched her for some minutes before seeming to find what he was looking for. Taking a deep breath he finally said, "My name is Caleb Dume and I used to be a Jedi."

...

The words didn't come easy at first, but the longer he spoke the more he had to say. Listening to his story, Hera realized that Kanan must have been waiting a long time to share this with anyone. She doubted that he'd ever trusted anyone else enough before now. It was at once an honor and a grave responsibility. She had a very keen awareness that his life was now in her hands.

Kanan said a lot, but what he didn't say told a lot more. He mentioned That Day and how he'd been hunted. He talked about his Jedi master, but he didn't go deeper. He didn't have to. She could see that those memories were raw and painful. The Clone Wars had left scars on everyone.

"And then I just roamed around the galaxy until I met you." Kanan looked at her, falling silent. They were sitting next to each other on his bunk. His eyes searched her from time to time. He was still asking if he could trust her.

Hera was sitting right next to him, leaning up against him so he'd know she was someone safe and she was there. "I'm glad you did meet me. I don't know what I'd do without you." Hera ran a hand over Kanan's arm hoping the contact would calm and encourage him. He'd been very vulnerable with her, she knew she had to tread softly.

"Does this change anything?" Kanan's tone was attempting to sound far more casual than it actually did. "You didn't exactly sign up for a wanted Jedi when you picked me up."

"I signed up for a good man who I could love and trust, and as far as I'm concerned that hasn't changed." She sat up so she could face him more directly. "When I told you that Ghost is your home now, I meant it. You belong here by my side and I wouldn't have it any other way." Now that she knew he was a Jedi, Ghost had to be more than just his home, it had to be his sanctuary and safe haven.

Kanan smiled a little, she could see him physically relax. "Well that's good 'cause I'd really hate to have to leave and find another Twi'lek who wanted to take me on as part of her pirate crew."

He was making jokes again. Good. Hera gave him a smile but said with a challenge, "You think you can replace me that easy?"

Kanan slipped his arm around behind her. "I wouldn't dream of it. What we got here? Irreplaceable."

Relaxing into his arm, Hera knew this would be far from the last time they had a conversation about his past. She was glad they got it out in the open, that she knew what she was dealing with when it came to Kanan and that he trusted her enough to share. She pushed her newfound fears about Kanan's safety to the back of her mind. As long as they were together nothing could ever hurt them.

[tinycrow]

I don’t believe in miracles

Chapter 1: This secret

She was speeding down the highway, a plain black vehicle, weaving around traffic where she safely could. In the driver’s seat, a woman with green eyes and messy black hair pulled back into a tight braid flickered in and out of reality minutely before stabilizing with a grimace. Bouncing excitably in the passenger seat was, unmistakably, a baby of a non-human race. Their fragile protoform was bare for the world to see with no armour to speak of. The seatbelt clenched tighter around the precious bundle of metal and youth, a gentle reprimand emanating from all around them. The young one stilled, but their little helm turned curiously to look back through the rear window.

From around several cars’ worth of space behind them, a silver car quickly approached. They were stalled by the traffic between them, for now.

~ Ray to Shawn. I’ve got someone on my tail. Evacuate through the ground bridge. I don’t want anyone hurt if I end up having to fight. ~

~ Shawn here. Gotcha, sunshine. Just come home, both of you. ~

The silent communication ended, and her engine revved as she sped up. An exit was coming up, and she wanted to give as little indication as possible as to her intentions. Her sensors let her know that the silver car was almost directly behind her now, doggedly matching her lane for lane. She wondered if it would try to run her off the road.

At the last possible second, she swerved onto the exit ramp, barely missing the barrier. She knew the other car would be forced to take the next exit or risk an accident to double back. In comparison to the other car, she wasn’t the greatest driver, but she was fiercely protective and maybe a tad reckless. Her passenger chirped in excitement, unaware of the danger they were in.

The woman’s brow wrinkled as she flickered in and out again. Not relaxing in the slightest, but not wanting to crash, she reluctantly slowed down. She may not see her pursuer anymore, but she wouldn’t put it past them to surprise her. She decided to take a roundabout way to the warehouse that was her target destination.

Perhaps luck was on her side because she made it without incident. Tapping into the controller that opened the door, she wheeled herself in and closed the door. She then encoded a request to the Gate Room. Soon, a portal opened in midair toward the back of the room. The dark vehicle hurried through with her enclosed passenger.

==

:: Unknown Location ::

Once on the other side, the vehicle visibly sagged on its axels in relief. The woman in the driver’s seat blinked out of existence.

“Sunshine! You made it!” A man with long hair pulled back called from a nearby console. With a few more presses of his fingers to the on-screen keyboard, the portal closed behind her, and a loud humming from a nearby machine quieted.

The sound of shifting metal and displaced air filled the quiet, and the black car stood up. In its place was a feminine figure of softly curved metal and dark armour plating. Two black door-wings twitched anxiously behind her. Her pedes daintily stepped forward with the youthful bundle now held in her arms.

“Shawn,” she greeted the smiling human. The ‘baby’ chirred in curiosity at the man, though she held them firmly.

The man turned from the console, hands on his hips and no visible fear on his features. Kneeling her much larger form down, she let the curious bundle meet the man.

“And that must be our new kid,” he said gently, “Cute fella’. Hey there, little guy. I’m Shawn Jenkins. Everyone calls me Shawn, except for… well, you’ll meet them later.”

The young one simply stared for a second, and then chirped happily, reaching small hands to touch him. The large, metal woman muttered a “No touchy,” and quickly stood up again. The looks of disappointment from both the baby and the man caused her to laugh.

“I can’t tell who’s more disappointed, you or the kid.”

She rocked said kid slowly, smiling down at her young one apologetically. “Sorry, my little one. Not until I’m sure that you’ve learnt to be gentle with humans.”

“I don’t mind. I’m not made out of glass, y’ know.”

“I know, Shawn. However, I don’t let any of my youngest interact with humans until they’ve gotten more control of their motor functions, just as a general rule. The cleanup is messy.”

It was a topic that had been discussed before, but no one wanted to argue with ‘mama bear’. Instead, Shawn shrugged, and the two headed toward the doors. A set of doors matching the estimated max heights of each species was available, though Shawn went toward the big door. They exited the building into a small but bustling community.

The buildings were big, but not reaching the heights of skyscrapers. This tight-knit community was sectioned into roughly three parts around a central power source, all within a tall dome-shaped forcefield protecting them from the raging storm outside its perimeter. The three sectors were: Industrial, Residential, and Business. Dividing the buildings and sectors were wide streets able to comfortably fit large vehicles moving both ways.

People, robotic and human alike, peppered the streets, sometimes hauling equipment or other supplies. Each one had their own set of tasks to fulfil, so they tended to move with purpose toward their destinations. Besides, no one wanted to be caught out in the cold, and boy it was cold outside.

They talked as they walked.

“I’m headed to the Nursery,” Ray said, “Where are you headed?”

“I’m going to grab some more people to help me with the crates in the warehouse.”

“You could com’ them. That way you wouldn’t need to leave the building.”

Upon closer inspection, every human could be seen wearing an earpiece of some sort. They came in all sorts of shapes and colours—some of them looked very much like earrings, and some like hearing aids—but everyone had a piece that served as the ‘speaker’ and then a ‘mic’ part (not always attached). It wasn’t just a fashion statement. Every earpiece was designed to look innocuous and perform as a communication device. There were a few public channels separating business and social. Then there were the private calls. They were all generally referred to as “the com”, or in other words the ‘communication servers’.

He shook his head. “Nah… I’ve been meaning to say hi to Brian anyway.”

She hummed in response, giving more attention to her young one who shivered in the cold. Transforming, she said goodbye to Shawn and hurried to Residential. Luckily, the Gate Room was on the border between Business and Residential, so the Nursery was practically next door.

This was done on purpose in case of evacuation. Most people were working in Business or relaxing at home, so it would be easy to quickly run to the Gate Room to be teleported to safety. The only problem was that the portion of the population working in Industrial would be the furthest from the gate room.

==

:: California, America ::

Sideswipe revved his engine in frustration. He was going in circles trying to find out where the strange bot/con could have gone to. The nearest district seemed to be mostly industry and warehousing... Not the worst place to hide, but it shouldn’t have been possible to be this good at hiding, not with the kind of radiation that the stranger was giving off. He knew he had to call it in.

~ Prime, I lost the unidentified Cybertronian. I followed their strange signature to what seems to be a set of warehouses, but the trail suddenly ends. There’s nothing here but scrap. ~

Optimus Prime was silent for a bit, then asked some questions.

~ Did they attempt to fight you or harm any humans? ~

~ They didn’t do either. They just fled as soon as they noticed me. ~

~ We will reconvene with the human soldiers. Send me the unidentified’s readings then. Prime out. ~

Sideswipe did a quick U-turn and headed back to the highway. The ‘con might’ve escaped this time, but now that he could identify them, they wouldn’t manage it a second time.

As he drove, Sideswipe spared a thought to his brother Sunstreaker, who he had been separated from since a mission at a Con compound on a very distant moon. They worked fine alone, but their teamwork was unmatched when it came to fighting. He knew if he were paired with his brother, there would be little chance for this new foe to escape.

Well, there was not much he could do about his brother. He could only hope that Sunstreaker would hear the transmission from Optimus Prime, wherever his brother is, and come to Earth. Though he imagined Sunstreaker would find this planet a little gross. It was covered in dirt particles and saltwater... not great for keeping clean and rust-free. Sunny was admittedly very vain.

==

:: Unknown Location ::

A weekly meeting containing a small number of individuals was in session, and it was not going well. The current topic of discussion was the possibility of letting in some of the non-hostile aliens into their community.

Max Wilson, a tall and bulky man with shortly cropped dark hair and bronze skin, said on the verge of shouting, “The community has been safe over these past few years because we have kept to ourselves, kept it quiet. The only thing keeping us safe is our lack of presence in their war, Ray!”

“I realize that! But, as aliens on a planet that is mostly populated by humans that hate anything remotely different, don’t you think they could use a place to call home?”

“What about your babies, huh?!”

Despite the warmth of the central heating flooding the building, everyone shivered. The one person that didn’t was the so-called mama bear. She didn’t take insults to her babies or her ability to care for them lightly. She didn’t take threats lightly.

She asked coldly, “Where are you going with this, Max Wilson?”

He paused at the tone and backtracked a bit. “I’m just saying, they’re- they’re not going to like what you’ve been hiding from them this whole time. They’re not going to understand.” Max took a breath, and seeing as no one was stopping him, he continued, “And just think, what if we do allow a few in? They’re obviously going to want to share it with their friends.

What then? How can we possibly maintain our secrecy then?”

Reluctantly, someone else piped up in agreement, “Chief has a point. As soon as our secrecy is blown, we’ll be forced to choose sides in their conflict.”

“Not to mention various governments’ reactions to tech they could only dream of.”

“We’re gonna get nuked,” joked a pale, redheaded woman next to Ray.

Ray’s cold exterior melts a bit. It’s a running joke, admittedly a lame one, but the fact that her friend Linda (the readhead) was trying to ease the tension breaks through her anger a bit. Ray’s digits meet her metallic face with a small clatter that causes scattered laughter amongst the group.

Ray sighs, and then speaks with a surprisingly soft tone. “I get it, I really do. I want to preserve our way of life here as much as possible. This is not just an experiment, it’s a home, and I would never want to jeopardize that.”

They all sense a “but” coming, and the non-human continues...

“... However, you can’t possibly think that we were going to stay hidden forever. Eventually, through one of our own, overheard conversations, or governments piercing through the storm barrier... We have to be prepared for the eventuality that they’re going to know we’re here.”

The room was very silent.

Despite the cold, despite the lack of direct sunlight, despite the layers of secrecy that prevented them from sharing the existence of their home with anyone, and despite the many problems they faced daily, everyone present had chosen to be here because it was a chance to be accepted as who they were and be cared for despite it all. It was a chance for humans and non-humans to live together in a technology-enriched environment unlike anywhere else on earth. There was no real worry about money except for those that handled the collective finances, as most wants were handled by the finance crew. And because of the vetting of each member of their community, there was a feeling of safety that didn’t come with living ‘outside’.

There were many reasons to be upset about the idea of sharing all that with unknowns.

“How about this. We agree to let this go for now, as it seems there’s no pressing need for it right now. All I ask of you is to think about it. Please.”

Gradually, people started grumbling their assent.

“I think Max had some other issues to bring up, before everyone starts leaving,” Linda announced.

The rest of the meeting passed quickly without commotion.

==

The Nursery was a big building with many wide and tall rooms. From the front door there was the central room or rec room where all could mingle and play. Connected to that central room were the shower room, Ray’s bedroom, and the children’s ‘bedrooms’, the latter which contained multiple beds as well as a ‘couch’ and tables for relaxing or working. All of the bedrooms were a motley of kids of various stages/frames in order to ensure there would always be an older child for the younger ones to turn to in case Ray was not around. She called these groups ‘families’.

The room directly opposite the front door was one the children were not allowed in. The very first frames were kept in that room, some sparked and others not. Other than the electronic locking device on the door, there were alarms as well as monitoring equipment to add some security.

Ray swept her gaze across the living room, the excited baby babble bringing a smile to her metal face. Her children mostly understood English, though she knew that the youngest would still be talking in chittering, beeping, and chirring. She stepped cautiously around the young ones on her way to a couple of kids squabbling loudly. Putting a servo/hand on her black-plated hip, she eyed them quietly until they started to get out of hand. Mindful of the newly acquired child in her arms, she stepped between the children and pushed them apart, breaking up the scuffle they were getting into.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve had to separate you two,” she commented, disappointment thick in her voice, “you know, it makes me sad when my children fight.”

One of them, Moonrider, sulked. The other, Sunstorm, looked unrepentant and seemed to bristle in response.

“Tomorrow, I am assigning each of you to older siblings no longer living in the Nursery. I expect you to listen to them. If I hear good things about you from them, I won’t force you to continue working with them.” She wouldn’t let them do work that was too hard. Most punishments for rowdy youngsters would be either light cleaning or monitoring, quite boring jobs.

“No, please mama.” The previously sulking child now pleaded.

“Oh, whatever will I do? I am so sad. My children want me to be sad.”

“No, I’m sorry mama. Don’t be sad,” Moonrider said.

The other, bristly child looked over to her with a slightly guilty face.

With a sad look on her face, Ray crouched down to their level. “I could really use a hug right now.”

Two smaller bodies attempted to hug her, followed by more, and she cracked a smile above their tiny helms.

==

:: Somewhere in America ::

After the events in Egypt, Sam returned to college to finish his education. The Autobots returned to base, though after Egypt the human government was pressuring them a lot more than before. The Decepticon threat was not enough reason to continue as they were before, considering the All-Spark was gone as well as the harvester. Now the ever-looming government liaisons were pressuring them for weapons technology and using their status as aliens on a ‘human’ planet against them.

It seems some people were just determined to be intolerant. Was everyone like that? No, they had humans that really cared. But it was admittedly disheartening to see the negative responses from both government officials and civilians alike. Optimus Prime grit his dermas and held his helm high, however.

How long ago was it since he said Earth could be home? A few months? Years? After everything that’s happened, it felt much longer.

==

:: Unknown Location ::

Because of the tentative status of the aliens on the planet right now, Ray was reluctant to let her older children help out in the warehouses. She reflexively clenched and opened her servos again and again, super aware of the rifle just out of reach. Her human team working the warehouses said they would appreciate the extra muscle. It made sense for her sturdy, strong children to help with the heavy lifting. It would mean they wouldn’t have to rent and store as many forklifts. Things would be done much faster. It was also a chance to show them the world while being carefully watched by her human team, who had all promised her their safety.

Cycling air through her vents, Ray turned her attention back to the plot of land that would become a park. They had dug up and flattened the area with dirt, then piled the material she would need in neat stacks in the centre. It would be a greenhouse of sorts, temperature and humidity carefully controlled to encourage growth. The knowledge she had of the tech behind it wasn’t that complicated, so she didn’t foresee any problems.

Clapping her servos together with a clank, a small spark flashed over her digits. She stood in front of the metal and did a pulling motion with a servo. The metal seemed to almost melt or fall apart, tumbling outwards in little streams and flowing around her to where large beams were beginning to construct themselves. Pivoting on a heel strut, she raised her hand in a lifting motion as it built supportive arches and arches for the doors. Pivoting again, she reached for the glass and similarly called to it. It melted like ice to water and formed the outer shell of the greenhouse. Lastly, she used the leftover electronics and material to create the advanced system to control the climate inside the thinly walled park.

All in all, much faster than teaching her people how to make it themselves. Stretching idly, she looked over her work, scanning a few places to determine its integrity.

“That is cool every time I see it.”

Ray turned to see a familiar redhead with blue eyes, Linda Davies, one of her dearest friends. “Linda, I didn’t see you there.”

She smiled good-naturedly, “Yeah, you seemed pretty occupied. So, how’s the build?”

“Structurally, it is good. But I really don’t know how well the climate control turned out. We’ll have to run it for a day to see.” Ray sheepishly scratched the back of her helm with rounded digits.

Linda walked over to the controls, which came in two pieces of differing sizes for each specie. Going to the smaller one, she examined the screen and buttons.

“So, how does this work?”

Ray ambled up to the smaller control and pointed out how to adjust various things. It wasn’t too difficult, and soon Linda had set the temperature to be comfortable enough for a human to be without a jacket or sweater. Deciding this would be a good test, Ray set the humidity on the bigger control, and they waited for the temperature to start changing.

“This is nice. All it needs now is grass.”

Feeling slightly distracted, Ray hummed in agreement.

Eyeing her large, metal friend, the redhead asked, “Are you worried?”

“I’m always worried.”

“You know Jenkins and all them... they won’t let anyone hurt your kids.”

There was only silence on Ray’s part.

“Besides, they’re only going to stay near the warehouse. All the delivery is still handled by other companies.”

She slowly admitted, “Yes, that’s true...”

==

:: California, America ::

~ Incoming truck. ~

The whirr of transformations filled the air as the human workers made their way to the wide metal door. Things were going well for the warehouse crew. With help from the ‘bots, moving things through the ground bridge was a lot easier. It was a little messy until they got the hang of hiding whenever a delivery arrived, but once the truck left, the stacked boxes were lifted into the ground bridge. They still required the use of machinery for the delivery trucks, and it wasn’t as fast as the ‘bots moving things straight from the truck into the warehouse, but there wasn’t much they could do about it unless they made their own deliveries.

A red-blue Peterbilt truck backed carefully but skillfully toward the warehouse door. Once the truck was in position, the driver’s side door popped open and a fairly young but muscled man stepped out. He shot the workers a half-hearted greeting before opening the trailer door.

“So, what do you guys do with all this metal?”

Eyeing the curious truck driver with a niggling suspicion, it’s Shawn that answered with practiced ease, “The company stores materials for construction.” Before the driver can ask another question, he immediately asked, “How long have you been a truck driver?”

There was a small pause, before the driver smiled and answered, “About 3 years and counting.”

“You’re pretty young. What’s your name, kid?”

The driver laughed, before trying to walk through the warehouse door. The small feeling of suspicion started blaring a loud warning and Shawn intercepted with a sharp smile.

“Sorry, kid,” he said, “Only company employees are allowed in there.”

The suspicious trucker stopped but didn’t back up. “Sorry,” he said, though Shawn was sure they weren’t at all, “just wanted to check on the load I’ve been carrying for days across Cali. Why the secrecy?”

At this point, the other workers were staring at Shawn and the unnamed trucker with cautious looks. Shawn raised a hand to the trucker and waved him back. Reluctantly, the trucker backed up, but not before spying the headlights of a vehicle around a stack of metal.

“Do you usually park your vehicle inside the warehouse while you work?” There was a look in the trucker’s eyes that screamed suspicion, though his mouth was curved into a constant smile.

“I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to ask you to go back to your vehicle while we finish unloading. I’m not sure what other companies you’ve worked with are like, but we’re very busy, and company policy says I can’t have you snooping around our wares.”

The suspicious individual raised their hands in a placating gesture and let themselves be herded back to the driver’s side of the cabin.

“Woah, didn’t mean to step on anyone’s toes.”

Shawn held back a biting remark, and simply hummed in response.

Though he helped the workers until they were finished unloading, he kept a close eye on the trucker. The closely watched man disappeared briefly into the cabin of the truck before exiting again to watch the workers from afar. Eventually, when all the metal was unloaded, the trucker sauntered over to close the trailer door before going back to the cabin to drive off. Shawn made sure to watch for the truck’s disappearance before going back into the warehouse and signalling the other workers.

The warehouse door closed and locked before the hidden bots transformed back to their bipedal selves. Their vocals whirred nervously, but they were otherwise silent.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. They’re gone.” Shawn reassured them.

Another worker piped up, “Though that guy was really suspicious. We should report him.”

“Hey Shawn, what was that guy’s name?”

He frowned as he answered, “When I asked, he avoided the question, so I don’t know.”

The warehouse became noisy with conversation before Shawn decided to take charge and whistled loudly, grabbing their attention. “Okay, I know that was exciting, but we need to get our ‘bots out of here and get back to work. I want ‘bots to grab as much metal as you can carry before you leave. Stay on the other side of the ground bridge, moving things to storage. As for the rest of us, we’ll have to move the rest.”

Sending the request for the ground bridge to activate, Shawn clapped and sent everyone back to work. He knew neither mama bear nor Max (their chief of security) were going to like hearing about the incident. Hopefully, he could convince them that they had things under control, so that the ‘bots could remain to help.

==

[astroi]

From Black to Blue

Steven watched Steven 2 check something off on a sheet of paper, everything was written in some sort of code, he couldn't dream of reading it. His future counterpart counted on his fingers in Spanish, Steven didn't know enough Spanish to really follow it.

"Uno: Salva la aguja del mar." He tapped his pen to the paper, scribbling an X.

"Dos: Protégelos del musgo." He placed a check in the box. He hummed, partially content.

"Tres: Interceptar las mentiras de papá." He smiled and put a ✓ in that box.

"Cuatro: Exponer las Gemas a los robonoides de Peridot." Steven 2 checked that box with a stiff nod.

"Cinco: Capturar Spinel." He folded the paper back up into his pocket.

"What 'cha doing, 2?" The pen he was holding became dented in his grip.

"Wh-what, Steven?" He was never a good liar, "What- how long have you been watching me?"

"Just a little bit, can you tell me what language you were writing in, it looks cool." Steven 2 chuckled at that, lightly shaking his head. It was nice to see him smile.

"If I tell you, you-," he trailed off staring at the puppy dog eyes of his younger self. He couldn't resist their power!

"It's modern gem gliph." He confessed with a sigh.

"Gem gliph?" The boy tilted his head.

"It's what Era thr- tw- Gems use on- on- their networks nowadays."

'Nice save, Universe,' he chastised himself.

"Ooh, cool! Can you teach me?"

"I could-," he definitely could, there were slight discrepancies between Gem and English, mostly in phrases and vocabulary. Understandably, they do not have a word for taco or any food, as of yet.

"Can we start now?!" Stars gleamed in the kid's eyes. Diamonds briefly flashed in his, "Okay, but when I get back."

"Where are you going?"

His knuckles rapped on the empty plastic, "Just a Gem mission."

"Can I come?"

"No," Steven 1 deflated, "it's a little too dangerous for you. If you came along I have no idea how that could impact the future."

"Why did you come to the past anyway, 2?"

His teeth gritted together as he spoke, "The same reason anyone would: to fix things before they can break."

"So what broke?" Steven 2 didn't reply, only standing up from the couch and pulling out a water bottle from the fridge.

"What broke? Some cool Gem artefact?" Steven 1 pressed. Steven 2 avoided conversation by chugging the water bottle and grabbing a second one.

"Why are you drinking water?"

"There isn't any where I'm going."

"Maybe I can come and carry the waters for you?"

'Please', he just wanted to be useful.

"Why do you want to come so badly? Don't you have a video game to play or a movie to watch?" He snapped.

Steven 1 snapped right back, "It's so boring here! And you're always going on those cool secret missions in the middle of the night!"

He stammered, "I-I-I, how do you know about that?"

"Sometimes I wake up early and you're not there."

"Uh, w-well, it's a job in itself preventing sh-st-stuff from happening."

"Can't I come with you?"

"I, not this time, little guy, but if they're tame, I guess you can come."

Steven 1 cheered, "Oh, thank you, thank you!"

"I'm sure there's something you can help me do." He thinks of Nephrite's crew, "Yeah, yeah, you and I can go on a mission soon, maybe tomorrow-ish."

"Really?"

"Yeah, it won't be too hard, if you do good on it I'll consider taking you to more complicated missions."

"I won't let you down, I know the Sea Spire thing was my fault, but I won't mess up again, 2." Steven 2 tossled the lad's curls fondly.

"See you tomorrow, then."

"Wait, you'll be safe, right?"

"Yeah, don't worry, I'm as tough as nails!" He grinned at the kid, hoping to cheer him up. There was a slight chance he might never return, at least as who he is now.

He went outside to use that warp, 'as he always does,' Steven 1 mulled.

He jogged in the desert's cold for however long it took for him to find his mother's old leg ship. Activating it, he launched himself out of the Earth's orbit. The coordinates were set for The Garden, it was only a matter of time before he had to bubble that Gem. Spinel probably didn't deserve this, but he had to protect the Earth and himself, so he steeled himself as he neared the abandoned planetoid.

It almost hurt him to see Spinel all hopeful like that.

"Pink?" He heard from the top of the legs, "Pink, is that you?"

He floated down gently, he knew what happened the first time; he didn't have to fight her.

"No, I'm sorry. Pink has been dead for fourteen years."

"But-but,"

"She was never planning on coming back for you, Spinel, I'm sorry."

Spinel was sobbing, yanking at her heart-shaped buns "She left me here for thousands of years, and," the pink Gem hiccoughed, "then she dies!" Spinel crumpled in a heap on the ground, letting out a broken sob before poofing. Steven 2 bubbled the Gem and left it there; he couldn't bring himself to take it back with him. He felt his memories changing. He felt lighter: he got his happily ever after. Sure, Aquamarine and Eyeball were a pain to deal with, but they were relatively harmless. Everything was good, even if he spends most of his time on Homeworld these days. He'd do anything to stop them from moving in with him on Earth; if that meant visiting at least four times a week, so be it.

He left the legs in the desert, curled up against the wall of the weird trash collection his mom had amassed. He made his way back in a series of happy hops.

Steven 1 ran up to him, when he opened the door, "How'd it go?"

"Went good, the hard part was just getting there, honestly." He opened the refrigerator to get more water, tearing the paper and stepping into the bathroom.

Steven 1 noticed 2 had changed, his shirt was different (after turning on the light that became very apparent) he seemed happier though. The Steven 2 he knew was never in this good of a mood. What happened? Where did he go, what did he change?

He knew he should be happy for 2, but he's acting like a different person now. Humming, singing, dancing and still adding things to that ever-growing check-list of his. He missed his friend, he could make friends again with this new Steven 2, but how long will that last before he changes again?

Amethyst, Pearl and Garnet didn't seem to remember the Steven 2 he met a couple of weeks ago a-top the sea spire with the moon goddess statue in his hands. It was weird to see them acting like this.

"Hey, bud, what's wrong?" The cyan-shirted 2 asked.

"I miss the old you."

"That's valid, kid. You got to know the guy, I don't remember being him anymore."

"You don't?"

"Nah, it's okay for you to miss him, all I know is that his life was worse than mine. For me, going back in time has been like a vacation for me: I get to speed things along and get to enjoy the sights one more time." He smirked, "It's actually kind of refreshing to see things changing."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, everything's always the same in the future. Go the work, make a couple calls, check-in around town, look for any leftover corrupted gems; it's the same day in and day out. I get plenty of days off though, it's nice to split the load for once. Back when I was sav- fifteen, it was just me for the most part. It was exhausting having to do all I had alone. It's nice to just lounge around, I barely got to do that before. I always have to sit upright an' stuff." He laughed, "I wish I could get into the details more, but that could break 'all of time and space as we know it.'" He made an impression of a nasally voice.

"Psh, as if, Pink Lasagna," he winked, "has got it covered."

"Who's-,"

"Man, I wanna tell you everything, but," he huffed crossing his arms, "I'm supposed to wait."

"What? Why can't you tell me now?"

"Something about saying it messes up the future. I only really came here to enjoy myself and lessen the suffering of a few Gems while I'm at it. I can do that, it's not like any time is passing in the future while I'm here."

"So, are you still gonna teach me Gem Gliph or let me go on super secret missions with you?"

"Oh, sure, I can teach you some Gem Gliph. No biggie. As for missions,"

"Oh, here it comes,"

"I'll need to gauge how strong and in control of your powers you are, I can train you if you want, it's not really going to change much if I do."

"You'll train me?"

"Why not? No one knows how to use our powers more than I do."

This Steven 2 was nice, cocky and reminded him a little bit of his dad. The old 2 was sad, grumpy and protective, the only things these two Stevens have in common is how little they sleep.

He remembered what the other Steven 2 said to him when they met.

It was 12:01 A.M., Mr. Squeezy wasn't an adequate replacement for the moon goddess statue. He was shouting in frustration, "Are you serious?! The timing was off?" The bright pink of his flesh contrasted with the pitch black of his tee-shirt.

"Um, hi?"

"Oh, hi. Listen, we gotta bounce."

"Who are you?" Pearl inquired with a raised tone.

"Yeah, why do you look like an older version of Steven?"

"Because I am an older version of Steven?"

Stars gleamed in his eyes, "Another me?! Can we keep him?"

The other Steven frowned at him, "We don't have time, this place is coming down."

"We kept Amethyst." Pearl cackled at Garnet's comment.

"Stop it!" A dome of pink rhombuses encased us, protecting us from the debris.

After a moment, he let it drop when Steven's yellow raft surfaced. He let out a dry exhale, "Do any of us have a paddle?"

"No."

"Of course," he was very resigned into his fate.

He offered the stranger some food, food always cheered him up, "Does anyone want a wet bagel?"

"Sure, whatever." He had an expression on his face that read, 'what else do I have to lose?' To Steven, he just looked tired from using that power.

"It was really cool what you did back there."

"It's new."

"Can you teach me how to make myself all pink like you?" His eye twitched when he heard him.

He placed his hands on his shoulders, "You don't really want to discover that power in you, Steven, it's dangerous."

"But if I learn how to control it now, it won't be a problem later."

He raised an eyebrow, "Can you even summon your gem weapon yet?"

"N-no." He was working on it, he just didn't know how yet.

"When you can do that on command, I'll think about it." He was so cool, like a cranky Garnet.

Now he was gone, replaced with someone clearly more put together than he was, but still. He couldn't help himself from missing the guy. Tears fell down his cheeks.

"Hey, hey, kiddo? You alright?" He hugged the new 2, crying into his jacket. 2's jacket.

--------------

@sutimetravelau Check this out.

@space-is-the-place2

[inkribbon796]

Like a House of Cards Ch. 7: Something Precious, Something Gained

Summary: As the dominos fall in the opposite direction, time ticks on.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

After the blast hit and Dark fell backwards, their form flicking and convulsing, the chaos around them froze in time.

Brody broke free of the magic pushing him away and both he and Wil raced over to Dark.

Wil took out his revolver and fired in the Guildmaster’s direction, screaming in a rage before leaping to Dark’s side.

“No! No!” Brody screamed as he raced over to Dark, tears starting to stream from his eyes. “She wasn’t supposed ta hit yeh.”[1]

“Darkling!” Wil knelt by Dark’s other side.

Brody began drawing up as much aura as he could muster as started trying to seep it into Dark’s battered body as carefully as he could so he didn’t worsen the damage. He looked up at Wil, “Make yerself fookin’ useful, will yeh Bubbles?”[2]

“Ohh, right,” Wil realized and placed his hands ever so gently on Dark’s chest, the touch gentle as the two of them began slowly seeping aura into Dark’s chest and tentatively their aura fused the horrid cracks up again.

The Entity’s souls, no longer screaming in agony, began to rouse again from their dazed state and Dark saw Wil and Brody leaning over him.

“Dark, sweet mother ‘a[3] Mary, yer[4] alive,” Brody gasped, setting his head on Dark’s chest as another round of sobs ripped their way out of his chest. “I thought yeh were gonna die.”[5]

The hunters all suddenly disappeared into a massive portal as a person in a long brown trench coat and blood stained bandages over his eyes. The blood from his bandages was starting to roll down his cheeks.

The entire group looked at this new Host, and the one who was still standing by Illinois.

“The fook[6]?” Marvin said, looking between the two Hosts.

The Dealer walked towards Dark, who was starting to settle in exhausted unconsciousness instead of imminent death, Wil looking up and frowned at the fact that he was now seeing double of one of his boys. Both he and Brody felt drained.

“Huh, I don’t recall getting drunk,” Wil commented.

“He’s not gonna[7] die, right?” Brody growled.

“Of course not, why would the Host want such a thing?” The Dealer scoffed. “The Entity should be fortunate that it will take another three years for the Guildmaster to amass that kind of magic again and by then the Entity will be more than fully recharged due to the vast empire he has accrued that he can get aura from.”

“Holy fuck, he’s still alive?”

J.J and Hearts appeared out of thin air.

Illinois and his siblings, except for the Host, braced for another attack.

“Hey, hey,” Hearts held his hands up in surrender. “We’re done, besides there’s no point in wearing the suits again now that Wilford’s alive.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Bim demanded.

“Well, we,” Hearts began patting his pocket in confusion, before groaning and rolling his eyes. “Logan’s still got the video, awww, shit, we were gonna[7] use that.”

Hearts looked up at the beanstalk not too far from them. A huge sunflower platform starting to bud and flower at the top. “Hold up, we’ll get Tech Avery and the Hulking Croak down and we’ll do the whole spiel then, when we’re—”

The Suit dodged as Ethan came out of nowhere to try and punch Hearts in the face. Hearts deflecting or dodging most of the strikes.

“What did you do to my dog!” Ethan demanded in an angry fury. “Stop wearing my fucking face.”

Then one of Ethan’s fists phased through Hearts’s face before he completely disappeared. Then he was swiftly kicked in the back so he toppled forward onto his face.

“We’re done,” Hearts told Ethan, parts of him materializing first before others. “I can kick your ass, but I really don’t want to.”

“You’ve killed dozens of people already,” Ethan spat, “why stop now?”

“Well maybe I like existing,” Hearts told him, “you ever think of that?”

“Why would that matter?” Ethan demanded, picking himself back up.

“I can’t tell if you’re being obnoxious or just plain stupid,” Hearts rolled his eyes, and looked around.

J.J casually snapped his fingers and a magical barrier sprung up and a wall of red and gold magic hit it. “Right on time, it seems,” the false J.J smiled.

“Yeah, I’d hate to tell the story twice,” Hearts smiled. “Hey Princey, are the others with you?”

“Odious scoundrel!” Roman shouted. He was standing with all the other Sides. All of them in their superhero outfits. Other heroes and villains began showing up since they’d been called over by the cracking dome and the burst of magic.

J.J dissipated the barrier.

Nate let out a sigh of relief as he counted all seven Sides. None of them had tried to kill each other for power or to get more of themselves back. He’d need to have a long chat with all of them, but right now there were other things to worry about.

“Where is that face stealing monster?” Roman demanded.

“Seeing as I still have my face, I think we are merely dealing with imposters,” Logan explained.

“Logic, now is not the time for semantics,” Janus hissed.

Logan fell silent, but he was looking at the two Suits. Hearts smiled at him in return.

“Hey, glad to see you’re all still doing well,” Hearts still had a huge smile.

Janus hissed at him in fury at the same time Logan yelled out, “FALSEHOOD!”

“Yikes, but that’s a discussion to have with our Logan,” Hearts smiled.

“That was nothing like Logic!” Roman shouted. “How dare you?”

“Well yeah, he’s not our Logic yet, give him about fifteen years and he’ll get there,” Nestor explained. “We’re from the future.”

There was a beat of silence before Roman began laughing, pointing his sword down at them, “Your tricks will not fool me, thou cretinous wretched. Tell them Deceit.”

All the other Sides had already been looking at Janus, who was staring at the two doppelgängers in a mixture of shock and apprehension.

“Deceit,” Roman growled, “now is not the time to play devil’s advocate.”

“That would explain the nanite technology and the fact that they know who we are,” Logan reasoned, a pit forming in his gut. Because if that Logan had been capable of that much sadism and outright, malicious violence . . .

“No. No!” Roman spat angrily at Janus,. “We are not even considering this.”

“Wait you guys are even thinking of considering this?” Ethan shouted. “It’s absolute horseshit!”

“Deceit’s a living lie detector,” Illinois called out. “He just also happens to be a really good illusionist.”

“It’s true,” Joan pushed three way past Janus and Remus and jumped down from a piece of rubble.

“So they’re telling the truth?” Joan looked at Janus.

“Unfortunately, it seems so,” Janus answered through gritted teeth.

Heart looked over at Brody, “Come on, Chase, if we can’t cheat with Logan’s video, we gotta do it together. I only want to do this once a round.”

“I’m not fookin’ leavin’ him ta get shot again!”[8] Brody shouted. “I don’t care if Host says it’s clear or not. I didn’t put up with all this bullshite[9] ta[10] watch him die.”

“Come on, he’s literally in the middle of what amounts to an army of magic, he’s not going anywhere,” Hearts tried to reason.

“Leave it,” J.J told him, his voice still grainy with whatever was helping him speak. “We need to get Logan back and it’s best to have this farce dealt with sooner rather than later.”

“Fine,” Hearts let out a frustrated groan, before pointing to J.J and then Brody. “This is J.J he’s a tactical advisor. This is Brody, part time hit man, and fulltime emotional crutch for an unstable eldritch demon.”

“And I am the Police Commissioner of the Egoton PD,” Hearts introduced, gesturing to himself, CP Nestor flashed a badge on his wallet that was usually carried around by Abe and reached around and grabbed a disk at the back of his neck and handed it over to the Dealer. “I’ll spare my name since it makes younger me a bit antsy despite half of the league already knowing who we are and where you live because you’ve been playing hero since you were fourteen.”

“The hell, you’re not me, you’ve killed people,” Ethan argued.

“Trust me, we’ve been targeting people who have killed or at the single rumor of an order from their Guildmaster they would kill. I have killed far better people, and I’m not claiming we’re saints but we did this town a favor.”

“You could have just told us upfront,” Logan grumbled. “It would have saved us all this trouble and bloodshed.”

Hearts started letting out an amused chuckle, J.J and Brody were decidedly not laughing, “Oh that’s funny, and you always say you don’t have a sense of humor. Did you know that you always ask that, every single time? Nah, you see, we tried that. A lot. So we’ve just been trying whatever sticks.”

“This is the tenth reset,” Brody frowned. “Thanks ta the anomaly an’ J.J here, we’ve been able ta remember all ‘a ‘em so we could make changes as we needed.”[11]

“We had to remove your J.J this time around because he refused to help,” Diamonds explained. “Speaking of which.”

He stepped to the side and snapped his fingers, a bubble of distorted time rippled out and J.J tripped through. He looked confused and bewildered, until he saw future J.J and jumped up to attack him.

Then there was another ripple of time and both J.J were standing there, the real one looking furious as Diamonds just stared back. “See? No one’s died, you should have just trusted me from the start.”

J.J looked around at everyone and he froze when he saw Jackie, who was standing next to Chase.

“Jackie?” J.J gave a shaky sign as he took a couple steps forward. The mute hero then raced over and hit Jackie with a hug, he was shaking in relief.

“Hey, Jay, you okay now?” Jackie asked in concern.

J.J nodded and held onto Jackie even tighter.

Hearts had the wherewithal to wait for the moment to pass before he pointed up to the beanstalk, “And our Logic just peaced out up there. He motioned to the beanstalk. “He’s got the drive we need where we explain everything and have actual video evidence to prove it. So you all can either wait in here, or we can send someone up to get him.”

Roman looked up at the beanstalk, finally sheathing his sword. “Fine, besides, we have unfinished business with him.”

“Excellent the Core Sides will be able to accomplish the mission with little to no bloodshed,” the Dealer smiled.

“They good or should we send someone else?” Nestor asked J.J and the Dealer.

“The Core Sides should be fine,” the Host asked for the two of them. “The Sides should not worry, the Host will not allow the Suits to escape. Especially since there’s a town to clean up.”

“I’m going with them,” Nestor decided. “Someone needs to help power him down afterwards and he won’t let that happen if he thinks the other Sides are still in danger.”

That caused a little bit of an argument but after a while everyone came to an agreement. Core Sides would go up with Nestor to retrieve their Logan and Patton. The three Dark Sides would stay down with the others and help clean up or wait for Dark to recover.

Janus did walk over to the beanstalk with them, halting Logan a ways away to talk. Mostly to plan in case Nestor double crossed them.

“I’ll keep an eye on things down here,” Janus decided, a small albino python sliding out of his sleeve and moving towards Logan. The logical Side letting the serpent crawl up his body until it was delicately wrapped around his wrist and then turned into a bracelet.

“Are you certain that you do not wish to join us?” Logan asked.

“If I go up there, I will strangle him with my own hands,” Janus warned.

“Alright,” Logan responded in understanding and walked back towards the spot the other Core Sides were standing with Nestor. Roman set his hand on the tree-like stem of the beanstalk and a rounded elevator carriage made of woven plants and flowers.

“Is that even safe, Princey,” Virgil looked at the carriage nervously.

“Of course why wouldn’t it be?” Roman leaned against the carriage with a huge smile.

Virgil frowned, “Are you serious?”

After some magic from Patton they all got into the carriage and it started to move up. The ride was quiet for a bit as the carriage began moving up.

“Why are you even coming up, don’t you have a future to hover over?” Virgil spat. “We can’t be that important.”

Nestor frowned, leaning forward in his seat, “Hey look, I’ve regretted many, many of the things I’ve done in my life but the time I spent with you guys was not one of them.”

Nestor pointed to Logan, “You’re not our Logan yet, but even at this point I owe you a lot. You fixed my crappy homemade suit into something that would protect me. You and Silver and Jackie helped give me a structure while I was still in school and doing hero work. I still hold those days in a special place in my heart, and regardless of what happens next that won’t change. But even after I still owe Logan a lot for really helping me out. I might have mentioned it but this city hates me. Dark dropped the police department in my lap and basically told me: “keep order in my city, bitch” and walked off to keep looking for Wil. Logan was there to help me. He helped me when no one else did or could.”

“Sounds like hell,” Virgil commented.

“For five years it was,” Nestor told him, “a lot of people who didn’t need to die, died. Hunters were killing anyone they thought could be a demon vessel after they found out how many demons were actually in the city. And while all that was going on, I had to stand up in front of the news and try and keep the peace in a city that was turning itself inside out. My mission was to save as many people as I could, and if a couple scumbags who were going to kill children and people who have nothing to do with heroes or villains then who cares?”

Logan’s brain was already going to dangerous places. He could see a logical chain of events that brought the Side from where he was sitting in-between Patton and Virgil, to wherever Spade was in his life. It was a dangerous slippery slope.

His future self had already been telling him things. And if these doppelgängers were truly from the future then he had to acknowledge that his other self’s warnings were true. That Virgil and Roman had died. That Patton had been hurt and needed protecting. That Deceit had to be trusted when he couldn’t trust anyone else.

And that the hunters were to blame.

These thoughts swirled his head as he evaluated them:

Did Patton deserve to be attacked for things he could not control? No!

Did a young man who was barely old enough to drink deserve to have the metaphorical weight of a city dropped upon his shoulders and left to run the police force on his own? No!

Did the people who callously murdered Virgil deserve to be left to walk free . . .

Logan hesitated. Apparently most of those people were now dead before they could kill Virgil and others like him. They also hadn’t yet done anything.

Objectively his head spun with the paradox. Given the chance they would have killed him. But they were too dead to actually carry out the deed anymore. We’re they still guilty of the crime?

The logical Side’s battered heart cried “Yes” but now Logan couldn’t be sure that was his mind and heart deciding those things anymore.

His future self had clearly been trying to make Logan think and act like him. If not for Ethan and Chase, he would have succeeded.

“Not sure how much I should keep telling you, either way, Lo’s gonna be pissed,” Nestor shrugged as the flower car continued to take them up. “Logan works kinda with Google these days. Patton started going full demon and got scared so he worked with Dark for aura to help sooth Pat, and then he worked with Google and Bing for safety.”

“Because he’s inorganic?” Logan commented, roused from his rather venomous thoughts.

“Yeah took a good five years for Lo to want to work with him, Google had been making offers for a long time before that,” Nestor scratched some rubble out of the back of his scalp. “We were all going through a lot and I kinda lost track of him for a couple of years since we were all so busy. Then he just showed up in Dark’s office one day a glitchy and angry mess.”

“I fail to see how if you were genuine that we would turn your assistance down,” Logan grumbled.

“Yeah, we’ll you weren’t the difficult one,” Nestor scoffed, looking out the window in thought for a couple seconds before looking back. “Look, Lo’s really protective of Pat, so just be careful, okay? Pat’s been through a lot.”

“Our anger and frustration is with your Logan, not your Patton, so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

The cart finally came to a stop at the top of the beanstalk and opened into a lush and verdant garden entryway. Beautiful petals and pastel colored insects fluttering in the breeze.

There were the light sounds of conversation that the Sides and Nestor could hear coming from the next room.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Accessibility Translations

1. She wasn’t supposed to hit you

2. Make yourself fucking useful, will you Bubbles?

3. of

4. you’re

5. I thought you were going to die

6. Fuck

7. going to

8. I’m not fucking leaving him to get shot again!

9. bullshit

10. to

11. Thanks to the anomaly and J.J here, we’ve been able to remember all of them so we could make changes as we needed.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #350

“let’s play a love game, play a love game  /  do you want love, or you want fame?  /  are you in the game?”

Who was your first good kiss with? Jason. Would you kiss this person again? I know I fucking would and I hate it more than I could possibly express. Name something that is on your bedroom wall? Lots of artwork, mostly of meerkats. What accessory do you want in your bedroom? I need another desk to put stuff on. If you could paint your walls any color what would it be? Something pastel. Maybe like, peach. Soft and warm and would really bring light to the room. What does your phone case look like? It's just this boring purple one that came with the phone. What do you take the most pictures of? My camera roll says my pets, hahaha. What is the point of Twitter for you? Liking Mark's shit lmao. What does your planner look like? I don’t have one. If you get into an argument what is it usually about? My anxiety, I think. What are you always in the mood for? Ummm probably a car ride where I can control the music in the passenger seat. It is very, very rare I'll turn that opportunity down. What’s the last emergency you dealt with? I don't really know; I'm thankfully not in these situations very much, especially when you're cooped up at home. I probably haven't been actually engaged in an emergency since I had to call 911 for my mom before she found out about her cancer. She was basically immobile from agony in her abdomen. Do you have a son? I'm perfectly happy without a son, or kids period. Are you married? No. Have you ever worn a suit? I haven't. Have you ever had to call 911? Twice for Mom. How many keys are on your key-ring? Just one for the house. What’s the last thing you created? An RP post would count as art creation, I'd say. Who are your closest friends? Sara, Girt, and uh... Well, they might be it as far as friends I consider truly close to me. I have a few other people I consider good friends, but we're just not like... on that "close" level, you know? Lisa is maybe another, and Lyndsey perhaps, both WoW friends. Are you ready to have a family? I hate that "have a family" tends to mean get married and have kids, which I'm guessing is what you're implying. If that's the case, no, given I don't want kids and am not fit to get married right now. I'm not even with anyone. I'm content right now with just living with my mom and my two pets, who are children well enough to me. Have you ever taken a DNA test? No. Do you have a family cemetery? No. Would you say you have a high sex drive or not so much? *shrugs* I think it's pretty normal. How do you feel about swallowing pills? What do you mean how do I "feel" about it? I just do it if I need to. What animal is the scariest in your opinion? Some kind of bug, probably. Giant centipedes creep me the fuck out, for one, and I've heard their bite is incredibly painful. I've also always been very afraid of Australia's funnel web spiders since watching some show on Animal Planet when I was younger; I think it scarred me for life, aha. And let's not forget the murder hornets. No thnx, rather die. :') Have you ever questioned your sanity? Way more than once, my friend. How do you feel about people wearing fur coats? Are you for or against it? I am VIOLENTLY against it unless it is for survival in extreme climates and you don't have access to other material. That aside, there is NO way you could possibly convince me that it's okay to wear the fur of something once living on yourself for ~fashion~. What’s the worst thing a friend has either done or said to you? Let's not go here. What’s fake about you? Like extensions, fake nails, botox etc. Nothing. If you got the chance, would you audition for a reality show? No. Have you ever gotten into a Facebook fight? Haha, yeah. Favorite flavor of jelly bean? Probably watermelon or strawberry. I'm not a massive jellybean fan. Do you use Tinder? If yes, have you ever met up with someone you matched? I've never tried it, no. What book/movie has made you cry the hardest? Either The Notebook or Titanic. Something you feared as a kid but don’t anymore? Thunderstorms. What’s your skincare routine? I don't really have one. Just wash it with water in the shower and then use a washcloth when I feel the need. Would you rather have a snake or a tarantula as a pet? I want both, but I prefer snakes. What is something you are NOT looking forward to? I both am and am not looking forward to my second Covid vaccine because it's notoriously worse than the first; the only bright side to it is that after the potential side effects blow over, I'm job hunting. What do you usually do right when you wake up? Check the time on my phone. Would you rather eat your pizza cold or hot? Hot, but I like both. Who taught you how to swim? Dad, I think? Can you do push-ups? No. Do you like Doritos? Yesssss. Who is the closest friend that you live by? I don't know. Have you ever banged your head against something? I've had two concussions before, so, y'know. Have you ever jumped on a trampoline? Yeah, I loved that as a kid. Do you like watching scary movies? Yeah. Has anyone ever told you that you have a big butt? No, considering I have like no ass, rip. Has one of your friends ever tried to "hook you up?" Ugh, yes. Do you prefer landmarks or street names when being given directions? Landmarks, by a mile. Although, I'm super bad with directions, so it probably wouldn't really matter much. Do you read the prologues in the beginnings of books? Yeah, you got to. Does your house have more than one fireplace? No. What was your favourite gym class moment? The one and only thing I liked about gym as a kid was when you took one of those rainbow tarps and made like, an air bubble underneath to make this awesome dome everyone sat in. Ya missed out if you didn't do that. Do you think that ocean boardwalks are fun? Yeah. Do you dread when people ask you to sign their yearbooks? Not at all; I was always flattered, knowing they cared enough to want mine. Apple Jacks: yay or nay? I looove those. Do you have a favorite Scooby-Doo movie? Haha yeah, I think it's the second one? Such iconic scenes. It's the one with the Mary Jane girl that Shaggy liked... oh, jokes that went over your head as a kid. Who were your last 3 Facebook messages from and what do they say? I'm too lazy to list the convos themselves, but the people involved are my friends Chelsea and Ian, as well as a friend's mother. Do you turn your phone off at night when you go to sleep? No. It's always on vibrate, and I just turn the brightness way down. What is the sexual orientation of the last person you talked to? She's straight. What’s your favourite hairstyle on the opposite sex? Don't you fucking dare laugh, emo hair is A++. Has anyone ever played a prank on you? What happened? Not a big one, no. Do you like the Silent Hill movies? Do I?! I love the first one (though for a while I wasn't very happy they swapped the lead role from Harry to his wife), and while the second is literal trash story-wise and it's ALL over the damn place, I still enjoy it with just how much I adore SH as a whole. What movie scared you the most out of any other movies? The Rite, because the concept of being raped and impregnated by a demon is fucking horrifying to me. Have you ever wanted to be on American Idol? When was this? Nah. Name 5 things you don’t believe in. 1.) "Everything happens for a reason;" 2.) karma; 3.) destiny/fate; 4.) psychics, fortune tellers, all that; and 5.) luck, at least in the sense of someone having set "good" or "bad" luck. If you could have any friend that you’ve lost back, who would you pick? Probably Megan. If you have pets, who normally puts food and water in their dish? Me for both of them. Do you organize the pictures on your computer into different folders or are they all just under “My Pictures”? I have folders. Do you think if someone is in a relationship, that it is acceptable to have sleepovers with other people of their preferred sex? Eh, nah, that feels a bit far to me. I am very firmly for friends still being able to hang out even if they're each other's preferred gender, but a sleepover sounds a bit too intimate, even without sharing a bed. Would you shoot a gun if given the chance? If you’ve shot a gun before, how many different types of guns have you shot? No. I'm very intimidated by guns and nearly shook when I merely handed a friend his (not for anything bad, he just carried it with him when he goes out), and I've got noooo plans of holding one again unless my life depends on it. Do you feel uncomfortable sharing things like artwork or poetry you’ve written? Is it because you don’t think it’s good enough to show off or because it’s too personal? You. Have. Zero. Idea. It's for both reasons, and it's far more severe in person. Online, I actually don't mind much, oddly enough... I can't quite pin down why. Do you have any siblings you absolutely despise? Why do you despise them? No. Do knives scare you? Is it from watching scary movies? Knives scare me like five times more than guns. Scary movies have nothing to do with it, though. They're just so sharp and the idea of being stabbed by one is terrifying. As someone with a history of self-mutilation too (not with knives, but I've thought about it and once planned to slit my throat with one, but Mom stopped me), they just make me incredibly uncomfortable to the point I can barely hold a "real" knife to just slice food. Have you ever climbed a chain-link fence? Many times. What is your LEAST favorite Disney animated movie? That I've seen, uhhhhh... I don't know man, there are way too many Disney movies lmao. Who was the last person’s house you went to besides your own? My sister's. On YouTube, who are two people you find hilarious? I'm just counting GameGrumps as one, and then you can't forget Shane Dawson, regardless of the controversy. He probably made me laugh more than any other YouTuber. Do you shave your pits? Yeah. Do you know anyone who has been on life support, and survived? I don't think so. Besides the USA, what is your favorite country? I'm not nearly informed enough about foreign countries' politics and laws and mannerisms to have a favorite. Would you rather go to Europe or Asia? Europe. Would you rather go to Africa or Australia? Africa. Would you rather go to Mexico or Canada? Canada. Do you think emo/scene hair is attractive? I love emo and scene hair, don't @ me, it's cute as fuck. Have you ever seen a ghost orb picture? Lots, actually, at one of my old houses that I totally know was haunted. Do you think abortion should be illegal? NO. You would NOT end abortions. You would end SAFE abortions. Do any of your pets have strange habits? Explain? Venus, my ball python, is extremely odd with food to the point I sometimes worry about her, but she's always been this way and is healthy, so I guess it's nothing really worth fretting over. Anyway, when I place her rat in her terrarium, she gets excited first and will pretty much frantically examine her surroundings, like slithering around everywhere, and even when she has clearly found the rat (she'll even prod it with her snout), she usually won't immediately eat. She just like... sits there and has to continue to verify for ten minutes that it's food. I know it's thawed perfectly, btw. So anyway, THAT'S weird... As for Roman, dear god, that cat's just weird, lmao. Especially in the morning, he's very hyper and will bolt around the house sometimes, he "plays" with nothing all the time, he "meerkat"s at nothing that I can nothing, etc. etc. etc. He's a weirdo lol. Have you ever told an extremely inappropriate joke? Oh god, I said something really inapprops once when my friend Chelsea startled me. I won't be repeating it lmao. Who in life have you felt the strongest need to protect? Sara, I think. Who have you most feared in your life? My dad. He doesn't scare me anymore, but he did. What was the quickest friendship you ever made? Oh idk. What is the worst word anyone ever used to describe you? "Martyr." And not the kind that dies for their beliefs. It hurt me so badly to know someone thought of me that way, and I'll probably never let it go. If you have any pets, were they adopted from the humane society? No. Roman is one of the billion kittens born to the cats my sister's in-laws have, and Venus is from a ball python breeding business in Florida called The Gourmet Rodent (they sell f/t rodents too, obvs) Do you like home design, like picking out paint colors and furniture? Not really. My grandmother though, whew, that was her calling for sure. Have you seen any of the old James Bond movies? Nope. List all of your features that you have ever gotten compliments on: My hair, my eyes, my tattoos, my hands, I think my nose, my dimples, my smile, and my boobs lmao. Have you ever been in a hot air balloon? And if not, would you ever want to go in one? I haven't. I think it'd be kinda cool, but they seem too easy to fall out of, and I'm afraid of heights. I'd probably go in one if given the opportunity. Do you have any stains on your shirt currently? No, but there are two small rips. It's just an old tank top. Do you listen to local bands? No. Not that I'm opposed, I just don't know of any I really enjoy. Do you watch YouTube videos often? Many, many daily. Do your parents fight? Do they even talk at all? They're divorced; they used to fight a lot when they were together. Now they only talk if they have reason to. Have you ever watched a movie that's in a complete different language, so you had to read sub-titles? No. Do people with yellow teeth disgust you? Dude, fuck off, no. My teeth are kinda yellow, and I'm extremely self-conscious about it, so seriously fuck this question. You never know for sure why someone's teeth may seem yellowish. Do you drink alcohol on New Year’s Eve? Usually a drink or two. Do you wear rings? I always have two on, yeah. Are you hungry right now? No, I literally just ate a breakfast bowl. Have you ever tried smoking a cigarette? No; I haven't the slightest interest in doing so.

[f4liveblogarchives]

Fantastic Four Vol 1 #225

Thu Apr 29 2020 [10:09 PM] Wack'd: So the first two and two-thirds pages are something strange. Or I guess they're strange from an in universe perspective. [10:10 PM] Wack'd: It's basically a condensed version of the back half of the previous issue, rather than  a recap. So reading these back to back it feels like everyone's reliving a slightly different, slightly faster version of the same events. [10:10 PM] Bocaj: Yeah that happens [10:11 PM] Bocaj: I complain about comics not establishing context with recap pages enough that I can’t really say boo about this kind of thing [10:11 PM] Aleph Null: it’s just a jump to the left [10:11 PM] Aleph Null: and then a step to the right [10:11 PM] Wack'd: I think I might actually prefer it to the writer clumsily trying to give all of this information again in dialogue? [10:12 PM] Wack'd: It's basically a previously-on. [10:12 PM] Wack'd: Though the fact that it's not really marked as such is weird [10:12 PM] Bocaj: Like Aleph’s Japanese animes [10:12 PM] maxwellelvis: Remember recap pages? [10:13 PM] Bocaj: I’ve heard of them [10:14 PM] Wack'd: I think also what's throwing me is that they try to hit some of the same dramatic beats again? Like, you're not really going to convince me "the blind king weeps in crimson" is vital story information

[10:15 PM] maxwellelvis: Because it sounds cool [10:15 PM] Bocaj: Well that’s nightmare fuel [10:16 PM] Wack'd: Anyway, I've spent a weirdly long time talking about a recap, but I this is probably the normal amount of time I spend on the first three pages so be glad you're still getting content I guess [10:17 PM] Bocaj: I do like content [10:19 PM] Wack'd: Interesting thing about reading these blind and relaying that to you is that it's hard to know in the moment what information will and won't be relevant. For instance, I didn't really make much of this scene last issue:

[10:20 PM] Wack'd: But I wish I had, because it makes this moment look friggin bonkers in context:

[10:20 PM] maxwellelvis: "Consistency? What's that?" [10:21 PM] Wack'd: We've hit a new level of Sue as a blank-slate stock-woman-character: the same writer is making her either a nag or a worrywart one issue apart basically on a whim. [10:22 PM] Wack'd: Also: "just wants a normal life" Sue is the most boring version of Sue [10:23 PM] Bocaj: Just a receptacle for women stereotypes? [10:23 PM] Wack'd: Moreorless, yeah [10:23 PM] Umbramatic: the Ur-Woman-Stereotype [10:23 PM] Bocaj: Boo [10:23 PM] Bocaj: Defined personality women are great [10:24 PM] Wack'd: Agreed [10:24 PM] Wack'd: Moving along, we get a very long-winded explanation of the exact science of how this place works which I'm sure makes complete sense [10:24 PM] Bocaj: Science in comics is always to the highest standards [10:24 PM] Bocaj: Always [10:26 PM] Wack'd: Reed is like "I'm not really fine with being threatened and woulda saved your life anyway" and Korgon's like "y'know what, I trust you, we're cool now" [10:26 PM] Bocaj: See: he shoulda just said please to begin with [10:26 PM] maxwellelvis: "Oh, I shoulda thought'a that" [10:27 PM] Wack'd: Ha! He really does just send Vikings to go shopping for him

[10:27 PM] Bocaj: God. In a modern comic we’d see some Vikings at the supermarket and it would be great [10:29 PM] Wack'd: Have I mentioned yet Doug Moench seems to *really like science*

[10:30 PM] Bocaj: SCIENCE! :D [10:30 PM] maxwellelvis: Nah, like, not superscience. Real science. [10:30 PM] Umbramatic: i am glad that reaction image is making the rounds [10:31 PM] Wack'd: So Reed does a lot of research and asks a lot of questions and thinks really hard (all in narrative captions, you're not missing much) and eventually he's finally ready to operate! [10:31 PM] Bocaj: Woo [10:32 PM] Wack'd: Buuuuuut the Four's powers go haywire again. Korgon has a machine that cures them of the radiation to stabilize them, but Wiglif--suspicious guy from earlier--thinks they just wanna be at full strength so they can kill Korgon and escape. [10:33 PM] Bocaj: Dammit Wiglif! That’s such a Wiglif thing to think! [10:33 PM] Wack'd: To shut him up, Korgon gives Hrolf--trusting guy from earlier--a "Darkfield Rod" that will nullify their powers if they try any funny business. [10:34 PM] Wack'd: And then Korgon immediately falls unconscious. [10:34 PM] Umbramatic: that doesn't sound omnious at all [10:34 PM] maxwellelvis: I give it five minutes before Wiglif tries to steal it. [10:34 PM] maxwellelvis: NO! Five PANELS [10:35 PM] Wack'd: To be generous I will not count these three where we cut to Asgard

[10:35 PM] Bocaj: Oh hi Thor [10:36 PM] Bocaj: I didn’t know you’d be in this book [10:36 PM] Wack'd: "Just considering a crossover, m'boy! I just got the faintest whiff some other book is stealing our shtick!" [10:36 PM] Bocaj: I’m going to be imagining Odin speaking like the king of Hyrule forever now [10:37 PM] Bocaj: I want you to know what you’ve done [10:37 PM] Wack'd: I apologize for nothing [10:37 PM] Bocaj: =__= [10:37 PM] maxwellelvis: Sorry not sorry [10:37 PM] Wack'd: Anyway they do the procedure and we're not sure if it works. And then another cutaway! Sorry max it's been more than five panels [10:38 PM] Umbramatic: vsfb jnjgfdmkb ;zgl,;.' n [10:38 PM] Bocaj: To the punishment dome with you [10:39 PM] maxwellelvis: *the dome.gif* [10:39 PM] Wack'd: Hey what the heck does that third panel mean? Did...did Alicia just get a vision of the North Pole? Or, like...uh...I actually don't have a second guess

[10:41 PM] Bocaj: When did Alicia brunette [10:41 PM] maxwellelvis: She overshaded her hair this morning [10:41 PM] Wack'd: It's been orange for a while now, too [10:42 PM] Bocaj: She’s supposed to be close enough to Sue that she can be a bad imposter [10:42 PM] Umbramatic: technicolor anime hair [10:42 PM] Bocaj: It’s the foundation of a good 60% of the things I mock Johnny for [10:42 PM] Wack'd: I think we're all okay quietly forgetting that except you for some reason [10:42 PM] Bocaj: See also 60% [10:42 PM] Wack'd: Mocking Johnny is admittedly a pretty good reason [10:43 PM] Wack'd: Ben also had a crush on Sue in the very early days if you want to take that ball and run with it [10:43 PM] Bocaj: It definitely has layers [10:43 PM] maxwellelvis: You've both made it weird. [10:43 PM] Wack'd: Anyway the procedure worked! Probably! Korgon decides he's just gonna assume it worked.

[10:44 PM] maxwellelvis: Was he always that tall? [10:44 PM] Umbramatic: always a safe bet [10:44 PM] Wack'd: (Y'ever notice Reed's the only one who ever grows even a little facial hair? Did Johnny just never go through puberty from the neck up?) [10:45 PM] Wack'd: @maxwellelvis : Yeah, we've just seen him laying down on a nebulously high platform so far. Ben remarks on seeing him for the first time he's like 15 feet [10:45 PM] maxwellelvis: I think he just shaves regularly to keep up his heartthrob gimmick. [10:46 PM] Bocaj: Here’s Johnny with a beard [10:46 PM] maxwellelvis: When he gets on in years, he's probably planning to let it grow out so that the Human Torch can have a *flaming beard* [10:46 PM] Bocaj: How much do you hate this? [10:46 PM] maxwellelvis: Like that. [10:46 PM] Wack'd: Sure, but if Reed has stubble from tirelessly working on this procedure...well, I guess Johnny mighta found time to shave [10:46 PM] maxwellelvis: He can just burn stubble off and they're in a literal house of mirrors. [10:46 PM] Wack'd: That's not a bad look on him. He's like the hot version of a grizzled old sailor [10:47 PM] Umbramatic: dilf [10:47 PM] maxwellelvis: I want to imagine someone said to him at some point, "Okay, but consider: A beard of FIRE!" [10:48 PM] Wack'd: I feel like "flaming beard" is a gay joke somehow but like. If Johnny has a partner who's overtly stereotypically homosexual that's the opposite of a beard? [10:48 PM] Wack'd: Unless he doesn't want people to know he's straight, I guess [10:48 PM] Bocaj: Beard of FIRE? [10:48 PM] maxwellelvis: I mean he probably has some sort of LGBT following. [10:49 PM] maxwellelvis: Chamber? What are you doing in Japan? [10:49 PM] Wack'd: One of my earliest exposures to this character outside of the Story films was an essay on why he's definitely gay, so [10:49 PM] Bocaj: Having a flaming beard [10:51 PM] Wack'd: I tried Google to find the essay but it turned out the one piece of corroborating evidence I remember it is one that literally the entire Internet has picked up on at some point [10:52 PM] Wack'd: Do yourself a favor, google "johnny storm fire island". Or don't, and let it be a pleasant surprise in like 90 issues. [10:52 PM] Bocaj: Can doooo [10:52 PM] Bocaj: The latter [10:54 PM] Wack'd: "I think I might be Satan, we should talk about that later" is not a good way to make me eager to talk to you later

[10:56 PM] Wack'd: While everybody else is celebrating, Korgon loads up enough radiation to keep this place running for another hundred years, and then asks Reed to make him mortal again [10:56 PM] Wack'd: Wiglif ovehears and is going to do something sneaky [10:57 PM] Wack'd: The next day Reed tries it, but someone tampered with the machine overnight. Gee I wonder [10:58 PM] Wack'd: Anyway Korgon is now more powerful than ever and fucking pissed [10:58 PM] Bocaj: Dammit Wiglif! [11:00 PM] Wack'd: 'If you press this red button, you get godlike powers and life-giving laser beams, BUT everything looks real spooky forever"

[11:00 PM] maxwellelvis: *Sweating superhero guy* [11:00 PM] Bocaj: I mean you take the bad you take the good you take what’s left and there you have [11:01 PM] Bocaj: Spooky shadow monsters [11:01 PM] Wack'd: The fantasts of life [11:01 PM] Umbramatic: fucking paralasys demons [11:02 PM] Wack'd: Haha WHOOPS

[11:02 PM] Umbramatic: gee willikers, that was a curveball [11:03 PM] Wack'd: Anyway from here things get predictable [11:04 PM] Bocaj: Fucking Wiglif [11:04 PM] Wack'd: There's a fight, it looks like the Four are doomed, Thor shows up, the tide is turned [11:05 PM] Wack'd: For some reason when I first glanced at this panel I thought that second speech bubble was coming from one of the Vikings

[11:05 PM] Bocaj: Yay Thor [11:05 PM] Wack'd: "Uh, boss. Hey. You get that's the literal god of thunder, right? And you want us to, what, shoot him with lasers? Maybe think about this?" [11:06 PM] Bocaj: Lasers are just light and Thor’s Baldrother shines lights out of his armpits [11:07 PM] Wack'd: Korgon is so pissed by his impending defeat he's just like "fuck this, I'm just gonna destroy everything, including this dome" [11:08 PM] Bocaj: Hey sometimes you gotta cut your losses [11:08 PM] Wack'd: Wiglif: 😟 [11:10 PM] Wack'd: The Four and Thor are at a loss so Thor summons Odin [11:11 PM] Wack'd: 

[11:13 PM] Wack'd: This is kind of a solution for a different problem than Korgon has. Like. He doesn't want to be a God? It was kind of thrust on him? I guess it's true that God needs followers and followers need a God, but if he's content to be a follower I don't really see an issue with that [11:13 PM] maxwellelvis: He also has a responsibility to these people. [11:13 PM] Wack'd: And it's not like he abandoned his people, he left them 100 years of free energy, during which time they could've solved things on their own in any number of ways [11:13 PM] Bocaj: Yeah I don’t really understand what Odin is getting at [11:14 PM] Wack'd: Also, outside the religious philosophy stuff [11:15 PM] Wack'd: It's a bit naff to just have an all powerful being show up and solve the heroes problems. Especially if it's not with superpowers but rather with delivering the intended message of the story [11:15 PM] maxwellelvis: Have the Four solved any problems on their own this entire run? [11:15 PM] Wack'd: Like you could've had Reed talk about the responsibilities of leadership or Ben talk about being a freak or Sue talk about how sacrificing a normal life can be worth it for the people you care about [11:16 PM] Wack'd: None of those would've been fresh or original but they at least would've been, you know, the main characters solving the problem of their own book [11:16 PM] maxwellelvis: They needed Gabriel to deal with Scratch, they needed Captain Marvel to deal with the Skrulls, they needed Thor to deal with Korgon [11:16 PM] Umbramatic: geez [11:17 PM] maxwellelvis: They've been reduced to guest stars in their own book! [11:17 PM] Bocaj: Oof [11:17 PM] Bocaj: FIRST FAMILY [11:18 PM] Wack'd: Things have been kind of guest cast heavy yeah! Don't know what's up with that and I suspect if you asked Moench or Sienkiewicz they wouldn't remember, besides Gabriel being Moech's baby [11:18 PM] maxwellelvis: Are there any stories from before the hiatus by them that I missed? [11:19 PM] Wack'd: It's weird thinking about the fact that I'm currently reading a run of comics that were written by guys with social media presences who seem fairly approachable [11:19 PM] Wack'd: I don't know if it would work but I could probably just ask them things if I wasn't a dick about it [11:20 PM] Wack'd: Not sure there's a kind way to be like "why are there so many guest stars in this year's worth of comics you wrote 40 years ago" but [11:21 PM] maxwellelvis: Something like, "Hey, I'm reading through your brief Fantastic Four run you had with Bill Sienkiewicz and there seem to be quite a few stories in a row where the Four's issue is solved by someone from another book? Do you remember what was up with that?" [11:21 PM] Wack'd: (Btw Moench and Sienkiewicz were doing a *Moon Knight* run simultaniously with this which is why Sue was reading an issue to Franklin last time. Go figure) [11:21 PM] maxwellelvis: Heh [11:22 PM] Umbramatic: oh huh [11:22 PM] Wack'd: Yeah there's really no way to phrase this that doesn't sound like "why did you write this so bad" [11:22 PM] Wack'd: Ah well [11:23 PM] maxwellelvis: The best-case scenario other than getting some hot scoop on the Marvel offices at that time is probably Doug Moench suddenly realizing that himself. [11:23 PM] Bocaj: Were they long term writers or doing some fill ins and one offs? [11:23 PM] maxwellelvis: They did like ten issues. [11:23 PM] Bocaj: I’m in a period of that in avengers. There’s not a lot of guest stars but they’re a lot of inconsequential issues [11:25 PM] Bocaj: Shame because there are one off villains and characters that would have been interesting to be picked up for more stuff [11:30 PM] Wack'd: Yeah, ten issues and Moench wrote an annual. [11:31 PM] Wack'd: But also, their first issue announced that we were sticking with them for a while--I suspect it was intended to be a longer run [11:31 PM] Wack'd: And then Bryne sniped them somehow

[sabraeal]

Sic Semper Monstrum, Chapter 3

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Requested and written for @vfordii’s birthday which was...back in December. So...not quite six months late, but at least I had a good excuse XD I ended up writing a first draft before my hospital stay, and then had an EVEN BETTER IDEA while I was convalescing and then had to write a whole new “first” draft, which was at least supposed to cover some of the other draft and...THINGS GOT OUT OF HAND.

“Why, Kiki Seiran.” The drawl alone turns her veins to to ice water; it’s only the strength of her spine and the grit of her teeth that stems a shiver. Or a right hook; Kiki’s always been a bit mixed up with her fight-or-flight. It’s what makes a good ranger. “As I live and breathe.”

She’s tempted not to give him the satisfaction of being noticed-- he doesn’t deserve hers after the stunt he pulled-- but he’s perverse enough to find that sort of behavior encouraging, as if getting under a woman’s skin was some prelude to foreplay.

“Hisame Luigis.” Her teeth chomp down on the last syllable, strangling the hiss she wants to make it. A snake like him deserves to be greeted in kind, after all. “I wouldn’t expect to see you here.”

Not after the last time, she doesn’t say, because despite her personal feelings, her father didn’t raise her to start a fight-- just finish them. Which she already had, sending Hisame scurrying out of the shatterdome with his tail between his legs.

(Must be hard for him to sit in that helo, Mitsuhide rumbles, standing close as they watch it take off, sound muted by the thickness of the windows. She spared him a raised brow, and he grinned. The way his ass must be smarting.

He gets a laugh out of her. She hadn’t thought it possible, right then.

Spurned by both the drift and you, he clucks, shaking his head. He’ll need medical to give him an ointment or something.

She’d been embarrassed by the whole thing, by being made a woman instead of a ranger in front of all her colleagues, years more experienced than she, and she’d thought she’d never recover, never get over the humiliation, but--

Well, she’s never heard her partner be uncharitable before. Might as well enjoy it. Maybe they can give him something to get his head out of his ass too.

Nah. Mitsuhide turns back to the window, eyes fixed to where the helo hovers in the skyline. I think that’s a chronic condition.

Kiki coughs on a laugh. The foot in his mouth certainly is.)

The line in front of them shudders, then trudges forward, and Kiki braces herself. His personality might be as thrilling as the scum on the dome’s flight deck, but he’s a ranger, just like her, plucked from a PPDC family whose illustrious history is only outstripped by her own and maybe the Wisteria’s. She’ll have to face him-- quite literally-- at some point, and it might as well be now.

Besides, it’s been five years. People change. Hisame may not be his father, nor his brother, but he could at least be tolerable now.

She dares a glance behind her, and it’s the same infuriatingly handsome face that smirks back at her, only this time he fills out his flight suit better. He might be less boyish around the edges, but it looks like insufferable douche isn’t a stain that comes out in the wash.

White teeth flash at her from between smirking lips. “I was invited.”

She somehow manages not to balk, not to say, I didn’t realize we were scraping the barrel for the dregs.

‘I wasn’t expecting to see you here either,” he admits, insinuating his tray beside hers on the rail. “In the mess, I mean. I would have though General Seiran’s daughter would merit better fare than the grunts.”

The rim of her tray wobbles beneath her grip. These people would die for him, die with him, and he calls them grunts.

“What can I say,” she says, turning to him with a smile drawn thin, plate outstretched for dinner, “I can’t resist some good old shit on a shingle.”

She has the distinct pleasure of watching the color leave his smug little face as a healthy heaping of the caf’s beef stroganoff plops down on her plate. If only he hadn’t been so eager to dog her heels, he might have noticed just which line he got in.

“Yum yum,” she adds, because she’s never been a woman to shy from twisting the knife. “My favorite.”

“Ah, of course,” he manages faintly, handing over his own plate. “You have always struck me as a woman of...simple pleasures.”

“Simple pleasures,” she agrees, “and unmovable opinions. Enjoy your time in the dome, Luigis.”

She doesn’t add, and don’t let the door hit you on the way out. He’s a smart boy-- he knows how to read between the lines.

“I don’t know how you eat that.” Zen eyes her stroganoff warily, nose wrinkled in distaste. “I don’t think the recipe has changed World War Two.”

She slides into the last available seat, so close she nearly elbows the jaeger mechanic next to her. “It’s an acquired taste.”

Mitsuhide hums on her other side, and she feels the rumble in her elbow, warm and pleasant. Kiki’s not a fan of eating at the designated meal times-- Zen’s the one that likes to see and be seen by the adoring masses, not her-- but being crushed in like sardines does have its perks, sometimes.

Zen opens his mouth-- to complain, she assumes, since he habitually gripes about the mushrooms being too fragrant for his taste-- but she sweeps in before he can get a word out with, “Luigis is here.”

His jaw drops. Mitsuhide nearly chokes on his milk.

“Hisame Luigis?”

As much as she would love to rag him, to say what other Luigis is there?-- it’s a valid question. With a general for a father and a ranger for a brother, any one of them had a better reason to be here than Hisame did. Too bad; teasing Zen was the best entertainment she could get in the dome.

“What does he think he’s doing here?” His arms fold tight over his chest. “Did he not get humiliated enough the last time?”

“Well, you know,” she drawls, scooping up a forkful of her dinner, “for some people it’s a kink.” While he’s sputtering, she adds, “He says he was invited.”

Mitsuhide frowns into his stoganoff. “Invited?”

“By who? My brother?” Zen shakes his head, emphatic. “Last time he was here, Izana was happy to see the back of him.”

She shrugs. “He didn’t say.”

“But who else could?” Mitsuhide sits back, thoughtful. “There’s not a lot of people who could go over a Marshal’s head, not even here.”

Kiki shovels a bite of beef into her mouth. “Garrack.”

They both sit back at that, uncomfortable. “But for what?” Mitsuhide presses, sounding strained. “He hasn’t piloted a jaeger outside of the simulations.”

“And they can’t be trying to put him in one.” Zen shoved peas around on his plate, mullish. “The neural handshake’s only meant for two, and with Hisame’s ego taking up the second chair, I don’t know how anyone else would fit.”

She can’t help but grin at that. “Maybe they’re making a three-pilot jaeger.”

“Wasn’t China working on something like that?” Zen’s expression turns speculative, distracted. “Something...Typhoon wasn’t it? Triplets were piloting it.”

“Crimson Typhoon,” she corrects, “based out of Hong Kong.”

“Right, and then Japan said they could seat seven.” He shakes his head. “Good thing nothing came of that. Sounds like a disaster from start to finish.”

“Too many cooks in the kitchen,” she agrees.

“Maybe it’s a single ranger jaeger,” Mitsuhide says, and she nearly laughs until she realizes he’s serious.

“Single ranger?” she echoes, dubious. “Can’t be done.”

“Or they’d be tiny,” Zen scoffs, waving a hand. “There’s no way you could pilot a mech as big as Rex all by yourself.”

“Can’t be that then.” Kiki’s mouth quirks. “Hisame Luigis could never suffer being smaller than anyone else.”

Mitsuhide flushes a red so deep it looks painful, studiously applying himself to his dinner as if it might make make him less noticeable. Too bad being six-foot-fuckable and a head taller than half the folks in the mess didn’t lend itself to invisibility.

Zen grins, smelling blood on the water that for once isn’t his. “Right. We all know that’s for-- ah, fuck.”

Kiki takes in his wide eyes, his pinched mouth, and twists her chin over a shoulder. Her stomach knots just think that snake could be right behind her, knowing she still talks about him and inferring all sorts of idiotic encouragement from it, but--

But she only sees a bright red bob lingering over by the chafing dishes, sticking out like a buoy on a choppy sea.

She frowns. Shirayuki was usually cause for excitement, or at least Zen making an ass of himself trying to impress her. There should be a sudden, manic search for stories sedate enough to tell but funny enough to entertain, since the good doctor apparently labored under the misconception that Zen was intentionally witty, and didn’t just bumble into cleverness completely by accident, but today--

Today there’s a lean body that curves beside hers, a slim question next to Shirayuki’s bright exclamation. It’s The Asshole.

Or at least, that’s what Zen calls him. The jury’s still out for her.

“What’s he doing here?” Zen grumbles, churning rice across his plate.

Mitsuhide takes in a breath, measured, and says, “Waiting for you.”

Zen glowers, hunching over his dinner. “I know that. I mean, what’s he doing here with Shirayuki?”

Kiki glances over her shoulder, watching as The Asshole bends down, Shirayuki laying a hand on his shoulder as she yells something over the din, and doesn’t say, flirting.

She shrugs. “Seems like Shirayuki can handle him just fine.”

He glares. “I know that. She just shouldn’t be around a jackoff like him.”

Mitsuhide sets his jaw, and oh, she can read every word he won’t say like it was printed across his forehead: We don’t know him well enough to know if he’s a jackoff. He’d never say it-- and not just because Mitsuhide didn’t truck with words like jackoff and douchebag-- but because he knew to wait until Zen was listening. Which he wasn’t going to now, not with his hackles all raised because the Asshole was in the same room, daring to breathe the same air.

Kiki doesn’t have the same compunctions. “Do we even know if he’s a jackoff?”

Zen sputters, dropping his fork in consternation. “Of course we do! He acts like one every time I walk into the room.”

She glances at Mitsuhide, and his gaze is already darting away. If he isn’t going to point out Zen’s probably earned it, it’s definitely way above her paygrade.

“Every time! Calling me master and reminding me he’s at my beck and call and awaiting my leisure,” he huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “I bet he’s over there right now, telling her I’m getting high-handed or something. Like I’m keeping him here to jerk his chain.”

Kiki lifts a brow. “Aren’t you? Izana isn’t going to let him out of the dome until you--”

“I know what he thinks,” Zen snaps, “and it’s not happening. My brother is just going to have to get used to the idea.”

Her brows reach even higher. Izana Wisteria didn’t get to be the youngest Marshal in the history of the PPDC by being the first one to flinch.

Mitsuhide clears his throat, pointed. “And you plan to keep him waiting the whole time?”

Zen blinks. “What?”

“The Asshole,” Kiki clarifies when Mitsuhide balks. “While you’re playing your game of chicken with Izana, he’ll be waiting. Right here. In the dome. Making...friends.”

They all look toward the bright splash of red hovering at the edge of the mess, tray in hand. Shirayuki’s face lights when she sees them, hand half-raised--

And falls. Kiki doesn’t need to look to know what sort of face Zen is making, not when Shirayuki spins so suddenly away, hooking her hand around The Asshole’s arm and steering him away.

“I’m not drifting with him,” Zen says, shoving his tray away from him. “I’m not.”

“Good,” Kiki hums, mouth quirking at a corner. “Be a pity for him to leave when he’s getting along with Shirayuki so well.”

Zen glares at her, mouth pulling thin. “I’m not hungry. Enjoy yourselves.”

She’s supposed to be asleep. Or at least, that’s what the dome’s light pattern it trying to tell her; when she turns on her lights, it’s set to the soft night-time glow.

Shirayuki explained all that once, in her patient, bubbly way: bodies are supposed to use natural light to tell what time it is, and living in a bunker with no windows is one of those things that throws off its entire groove. The mood lighting is supposed to help, subtly dimming and brightening so their brains get the signal that it’s time to sleep or time to work.

Kiki flicks it off with a grimace. It’s a nuisance.

Darkness settles over her, the only light the painfully bright display on her alarm clock. 1:17. She lets out a huff, rolling onto her back. Definitely should be asleep.

Still, it won’t come. Hisame Luigis is here, sauntering around the dome when he has every reason to be a world away, annoying anyone else. Before today she would have said there wasn’t a single thing that could lure him to the site of his own humiliation, but now-- now she knows there is. And what it is--

Well, that’s enough to keep anyone up at night.

She sits up, swiveling to put feet on the floor. Something is happening; it’s one thing for Luigis to be here, gunning to relive all his old mistakes, but he’s not the only new face in the dome.

Her fingers clench around the edge of the mattress. Rex Tyrannous has been sitting in its box for years; Izana might say that getting it into the fray is a priority, but he never picked more than one or two recruits out of the graduating class to try, never seemed to be more than tacitly interested with how they did.

But now, now, he’s flown the whole coast to get this asshole to the dome. An asshole that doesn’t seem to want to be here any more than Zen does.

Kiki levers herself up, reaching for her clothes. Something is happening in the dome, something big.

And she knows better than to wait around to find out what.

There’s only ever been one place in the dome where she can clear her head. It’s too bad that someone’s had the same thought; as she approaches the door the the gym, Kiki can already hear the grunts of exertion coming from inside.

She swallows a sigh, adjusting the bag on her shoulder. It’s better when she has the mats to herself, when it’s just her and her thoughts and the burn of her muscles, not interrupted by the groaning of men who want to impress her--

Good thing this one doesn’t. As much as she wish he might.

Mitsuhide has his back toward the door, and she has the perfect view of the way his muscles coil as he brings his staff up, of the way they shift into sharp relief under his skin as he strikes down with an overhead blow. It’d brain anyone who didn’t block it, but with no partner he brings it up short just inches from the mat, muscle quivering with control.

It’s a sight Kiki never gets tired of. She’s half-tempted to leave her worries behind and just enjoy the show, but--

“You’re up late,” he says, breathless, rising out of his stance. Searching eyes turn toward her, his mouth down-turned with concern. “Everything all right?”

“Couldn’t sleep.” She shrugs, tossing him a towel. “No Zen?”

He grunts, snatching the cloth with one hand. “He went to go talk with Izana earlier.”

Kiki grins, sauntering over to where the staves are propped against the wall. “Ah, so you sent him to bed?”

His mouth twitches at a corner, but he shakes his head, saying, all too serious, “He needed some time to cool off.”

She hefts a staff into her grip, testing it’s weight. “I’m assuming this is Asshole-related.”

Mitsuhide lets out a sigh, and they don’t need to be in the drift for her to know he means, what isn’t?

He’s already in his first stance when she steps in front of him, waiting for her to strike first. She should mix it up, try to wait him out, try to lure him into making a mistake early in the bout and riding the moral boost to victory, but--

Well, Kiki hates to disappoint.

Mitsuhide’s a big man, a practical giant, but he jumps over her sweep with a nimbleness that always stuns her. She may drift with him, living inside the corners of his mind, but she can never anticipate his speed. The way that man can move the incredible mass of his body verges on superhuman.

The butt of his staff taps her side, so soft that it’s only her pride that stings. “That’s one for me.”

She lets out a huff, shuffling back, out of his range. “The last one.”

He shrugs, but she can see the smile he tries to hide in his shoulder. “If that’s what you think.”

This time, she’s more cautious, circling the mats, advancing where he retreats. He’s more wary as well; dark eyes fixed to her, watching where she shifts her weight. He catches her first blow, and her second-- light taps, staves clacking together as soft as kisses-- but her third catches him on the thigh, and he laughs.

“One to one,” he tells her, stepping back. “Should have seen that one coming.”

She hums, mouth curving in a smirk. “You should have.”

The go back to their corners, and her body is humming with victory, alive as she watches him shift into stance, and she says, “So, do you know anything about him?”

Mitsuhide blinks, head tilting, and she clarifies, “The Asshole.”

“Ah,” he grunts, more from catching her first blow than surprise. “I can’t say I like him, but that assessment seems...unfair.”

She barks out a laugh, dodging his swing. “I don’t think Zen’s concerned about being fair.”

His mouth pulls thin, and she blocks a hit that leaves her arms vibrating. “Unearned, then.”

She nearly gets a hit on him, throwing off his staff and going for his side, but he steps back, right out of her range. “He doesn’t want to compromise.” 

“This isn’t about compromise anymore, it’s about survival.” She ducks under his follow up, a swing that probably would have left a real shiner on her shoulder. Sloppy on his part; he’s usually so careful. “He doesn’t want to trust anyone.”

She dances out of the way of a jab. “No one does in a jaeger.”

“But all of us would try,” he presses, strangely emphatic as he blocks her strike.

“We would,” she agrees, testing his guard. “If I was down, you would drift with Zen--”

His guard drops, just slightly, and it’s like the heavens are parting since right there, right there is where she can tap him--

And she does, so hard he stumbles back, unprepared. She can only stare for a moment, watching him breath heavily, head hung.

“Don’t say that,” he manages after a long moment, voice too raw.

Her fingers tighten around the staff, and she shrugs. “It could happen.”

His eyes fix on her, too intense too dark. “It won’t.”

She knows better than to tell him it’s not their choice, that every time they go out it’s a roll of the dice whether a kaiju takes them under. It’s not what a man like him needs to hear, not when his last station was up in Anchorage, so near the rift.

“Besides,” he says, shoulders straightening as he composes himself. “I should be more worried about you drifting with Luigis if this knee of mine gives out.”

She frowns. “I’d rather be eaten by a kaiju.”

“Well, that would be the other choice,” he informs her brightly, sliding into his stance. “Two-to-one.”

“I know the score,” she snaps, sending a hit to his legs, a sweep he easily sidesteps. “That better not be the reason he’s here.”

Mitsuhide raises a brow. “Back up?”

She smirks. “That you’re getting old.”

“I’m younger than Izana!” he protests, trying to hook his staff around her knees. She jumps over it, missing the timing on the stomp to keep his bo on the floor.

“And he’s sitting behind a desk,” she replies, enjoying herself far too much. “Maybe it’s time for you to push some paper--”

“He has other reasons,” Mitsuhide grouses, retreating as she advances. “Not because he’s old.”

“They can’t be thinking he’ll drift with Zen,” she reasons, “even if this asshole doesn’t work out, he’ll never agree to it.”

Mitsuhide hums absently, fending off her advance, and she presses. “Right?”

“R-right,” he answers. “Zen really only wants one pilot--”

His staff takes her right in the side, and she’s not ready, stumbling to the ground. With a huff, she sits on her ass, shaking her head. “And it’s not any of us.”

“No,” Mitsuhide says with a grin, offering her a hand up. “It’s not.”

She takes it, levering up to her feet and brushing herself off.

“You know...” Mitsuhide’s face takes a wistful bent, almost thoughtful. “Way back, when Atri--”

Kiki perks. She’s been at the dome a long time, but Atri predates even her, here and gone before she’d even stepped foot on the tarmac.

His lips wrap tightly around his teeth, stopping the words he means to say. “Never mind. Two-two. Next is match point.”

She smirks. “I hope you don’t mind losing.”

He smiles, stepping back into his stance. “Not to you.”

When Izana had mentioned they were hiring on a therapist, Kiki had been skeptical, to say the least. He’d gone on to expound on the newest data, how rangers and support staff alike were suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress at higher and higher rates each year, how having an individual focused on the mental health of a dome had reduced the number of accidents in the hangar and fights in the mess, but--

It’d been clear: Garrack was the one twisting his arm on it, and Izana never got in a fight he couldn’t win.

Kiki’s been in the PPDC her whole life, even if it wasn’t in uniform, and among them, stoicism was less a personality trait and more a way of life. If you didn’t have your emotions on lockdown, if your mental vault didn’t have tighter security than Fort Knox, a drift could break you into pieces. It could break your partner into pieces. She’d seen it happen before, dozens of times.

Talking all that out nicely on a couch didn’t really fit with the aesthetic. Or so she’d thought, until she met Shirayuki.

“Thank you for coming,” the good doctor says brightly, taking tea Kiki offers. “I mean, for inviting me! I’m sorry, I’m just so used to, um...”

Kiki can’t help but smile as she takes her seat, cup warm in her hands. It’s not hard to see why Zen likes her so much, not when she’s flushed just from that little slip. “I understand.”

Relief blooms across her face. “Oh, good! It’s nice to not be drinking alone in my office, for once. I mean, tea! Drinking tea! Oh...”

Kiki smothers a snort with a sip of her tea. “I know what you mean. Though honestly, I wouldn’t blame you if I had to listen to Zen’s problems.”

Shirayuki looks as if she might protest, trying to come to the rescue of her patient, but she must catch her wry tone and the smile lurking at the corner of her lips, because she just stops. “From what I understand, you already do.”

Kiki stares. “You’re right. I should start insist on being paid.”

A laugh bursts from Shirayuki, so bright and earnest it surprises her. “I’d listen to him anyway, but--” she leans in, dropping to sotto voce-- “it does help, sometimes.”

She can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of her, but it’s worth it to see the way Shirayuki flushes, two bright spots on the apples of her cheeks. “Thank you for coming. There’s not a lot of women in the dome, and it’s nice to just...chat, sometimes.”

“I agree!” Shirayuki tells her eagerly. “There’s more women in K-science than on the deck, but still-- it’s nice to just have a cup of tea and not have to listen to Suzu talk about his numbers.”

Kiki raises a brow. “Suzu’s invited to your girls’ tea?”

“Well.” She takes a thoughtful sip of her tea. “We don’t really have girls-only outings. But if we did, he’d invite himself, and then talk exclusively about his algorithm. The only thing that gets him to stop is Yuzuri--” she coughs, flushed-- “anyway, this is far nicer.”

“I’m only sorry I couldn’t provide better tea service.” She nods at the offerings on the table: buttery crackers with hard cheese, and cookies so crunchy they’re more like hard tack than a treat. “I asked the kitchen if they could make scones, and I’m not sure the cook even knew what one was.”

“Oh, no!” Shirayuki sets down her cup with a clatter, wincing at the sound. “This is perfect, really. When you first asked me to come I was afraid that Zen had asked you to-- ah--”

She claps her hands to her cheeks, mortified. “Never mind. This has been a pleasant surprise.”

“Ah.” Kiki smothers a grimace as she sets down her own mug. “You thought that Zen asked me to talk to you about--”

“Obi, yes.” She spins her cup slowly, as if looking for anything to keep her hands busy. “I know he doesn’t like him. He’s been...vocal about that.”

To put it lightly. “We don’t know anything about him. He’s concerned.”

“I understand that.” Her mouth curves in a wry, almost chagrined smile. “And I understand that being in the dome doesn’t really allow...typical professional-patient relations. But it would be nice if his concern at least took into account that I’m an adult who can make her own decisions.”

Kiki takes a sip of tea to cover her grimace. It’s a fair assessment; there are times where she’s sure Zen doesn’t even remember that his therapist has a doctorate in psychology, let alone is an authority in her field.

“Besides,” Shirayuki sighs, dunking a cookie in her tea. “You could say that about anyone. It’s just that you can say that about Obi especially.”

“You must know all about him,” Kiki presses, leaning in just the smallest amount. “Since you have access to everyone’s files.”

“Oh, no!” Shirayuki shakes her head, hair splaying over her shoulders. “I can’t access anyone’s files unless they consent to treatment. Or, at least, not unless I’m given an emergency override by the Marshal.”

“Oh. Huh.” She settles back in her chair, stymied. “Well, I suppose that makes me feel better.”

Shirayuki blinks, eyes wide. “You didn’t think that I had...?”

Read her file and formed her opinions already? It’s what Kiki would have done, coming into a situation as hostile as the good doctor. “You had to pick your patients somehow.”

Her cheeks flush, differently this time, two angry splotches that spread from jaw to temple. “Treatment is voluntary,” she reminds her firmly. “And even if I could read every record, I wouldn’t. Even with my patients, I prefer to have them tell me something in confidence rather than scrolling through a file. Trust--” she fixes Kiki with an earnest look-- “is the most important currency I can earn in my line of work.”

It’s a good sentiment, and an honest one, but Kiki hums, unconvinced. “But you’ve looked at Zen’s haven’t you?”

Her mouth pulls into a guilty grimace. “I-- I hadn’t, not at first. But when Izana told me he was bringing someone into the dome to drift with him, and that they were going to need to be reintegrated, I, um, well...”

Kiki raises a brow. “You looked.”

Her chin drops to her chest, chagrined. “I...did. I thought he might have...” She hesitates, finger once again rotating her cup on the saucer. “I thought it could have been Atri.”

Her hand tightens on her mug. Atri. The second time she’s heard that name this week. “Is that so.”

Shirayuki sighs. “We’ve been working for months, but Zen just...doesn’t choose to talk about it.”

Funny, how no one does around here.

“Which is fine!” she continues, breathless. “But if Izana was going to bring him back, then--”

Kiki nods. “Then you needed to know who he is.”

“Exactly.” Her shoulders drop in relief, the tension leaving her body on a breath. “I mean, especially if Izana was going to have me treat him--”

“Atri?” She blinks. “You thought he would want you to treat Atri?”

“Well, he, ah...” Shirayuki leans in, lowering her voice to just above a whisper. “He asked for my help.”

“Izana.” She’s a broken record, just repeating everything the doctor says. “Izana asked you for help. Specifically.”

“I know.” Shirayuki shifts, just as uncomfortable with the thought. “He told me this was a-- a special case.”

A special case. “So he must have given you access to his file, then. If it’s so...special.”

“Well, yes.” She fiddles with her cup. “Parts of it, at least. But Obi doesn’t seem interested in therapy--” no, Kiki can’t help but think, just the therapist-- “and, ah, it felt...too intrusive to look.”

It probably wouldn’t have done her any favors making friends either, but Kiki knows that’s a thought best left on the hangar deck. “Parts of his file?”

“Oh, um, yes.” Her eyes dart around the room, as if she half suspects Izana would be lurking just around a cabinet. Fair, considering the thing that man knows. “He only had authorization to open up the vitals to me. Everything else was classified. Even his birthday!”

Classified. Kiki take a sip from her mug. “How interesting.”

“Kiki.” Her father’s voice is as comforting as a warm blanket and hot milk, just the thing she wants to hear at the end of a long day. “What a surprise. We just had our weekly chat--” she can hear him flipping through his datebook-- “not even two days ago.”

“I need to ask you something.” She tucks the phone deeper into her shoulder, turning her back to the group of young pilot-wannabes that swagger through the mess. She’d love to do this where there was more privacy, but it’s the only place with reception in the whole dome, unless she wants to explain to K-science what she’s doing. “A favor.”

“Please,” Father sighs, pained. “You know I don’t keep track of that. It’s my job to take care of you.”

Kiki bites down on her lip. It’s his job to take care of his rangers, to make sure there’s no kaiju to wipe out Seattle, and as much as he’d been her dad too-- there was only room to do one job well.

“There’s a file I need you to look at,” she says, voice pitched low, watching the idiots horse around at the window. Must be fresh off the deck if they’re that cocky this close to open water. “Personnel. I’ll send the information over to you.”

“Oh my,” he hums, far too amused. “Should I let Mitsuhide know you’re looking at another man?”

She only manages to half smother the grunt out of her throat. “Just let me know what you find, all right?”

“Of course, princess.” Her teeth grit down until he adds, “Good hunting.”

Izana’s mouth curves as she enters his office, amusement only growing as she drops into the chair across from him and glares across the wide expanse of his desk.

“Ranger Seiran,” he drawls, sitting back, fingers laced on is lap. “To what to I owe the pleasure?”

“Obi,” she says. “Who is he?”

His lips tip into a smirk. “The next co-pilot of Rex Tyrannous, once my brother gets over himself.”

“Don’t do that.” Her knuckles blanch where they clench her knees. “Not with me.”

“No.” He grows serious. “Not with you. But come now,” he raises a brow, “surely you can find out what you need on your own.”

She lets out a long breath, fingers twitching where they lay. To think, she had longed for a sibling, even knowing the Wisterias.

“Ah, I see,” he hums, all too pleased. “Your father couldn’t get you what you needed.” His teeth flash from behind his lips. “Now, now. If that’s the case, you can’t possibly think you’ll get anything out of me.”

“No,” she admits, grudging. “Not about that.”

That intrigues him. “Oh my, then what would bring you all the way here for a visit?”

“Hisame Luigis.”

All the humor drains from him, his back stiffening against the chair. “He hasn’t bothered you.”

It’s not a question, it’s a promise, and some part of her eases. “No, he hasn’t. Why is he here?”

Izana tilts his head, letting the thick shadows in his office obscure his expression. “That is need-to-know information, Ranger Seiran. “

“And I don’t need to know?” she demands, and even shadowed, she can see how his mouth pulls, pained. “After the last time, you don’t think I deserve to know?”

He stands, pacing to where a large painting sits on his wall. “It’s Confidential.”

She grits her teeth. “I see.”

As she stands, he inhales sharply, and she turns.

“Come now, Kiki,” he murmurs into the space between them. “You’re a clever girl. It’ll come to you, if you think about it.”

She lets out a long breath. “I don’t think we have time for that.”

Sometimes, there’s nothing for it to go to the source.

Not much may be known about this Mystery Asshole, but Kiki’s observant, and he’s been on her radar from the start. And if there’s one thing she’s noticed: he doesn’t like people.

Not that he’s rude; oh no, he only vents his spleen in Zen’s direction, which even she can admit is well-earned. But if he’s got a choice between a full mess and an empty gym, she knows exactly which one he’ll choose.

Which is how she finds him, back pressed to the bench, lifting with no spot in the middle of a deserted gym.

Her mouth pulls thin. Only an idiot would risk it, but then again-- it’s not like anyone would offer to help him, not when they could end up on the bad side of at least one Wisteria. These rangers might all talk tough about facing kaiju in the raging Pacific, but one harsh word from Zen and they’re all chicken shit.

With a grunt, she slides in above his head, hands out and ready. “You’re some mystery,” she says, ignoring the way he gapes at her, “aren’t you?”

His jaw snaps shut, mouth pulling into a grimace. “Sounds like you’ve already decided.”

She lifts a brow. “You’re a ranger, but no one in the whole dome’s ever heard of you.”

He does a single rep, racking the barbel with not a single sign of strain. “I hung up my flight suit a long time ago.”

“There’s people here who can list every pilot since Mark 1,” she scoffs, “time isn’t the issue.”

“I didn’t distinguish myself,” he explains, wry, rolling up the bench, grabbing the towel from behind him. “One run wonder, you know.”

She crosses her arms, watching as he towels off the rigid bristle of his hair. “Your file’s so confidential not even generals can access it.”

“Ah, well.” He cocks a brow from under his towel, mouth rucked up in a grin. “Did someone make daddy try?”

It’s not until her knuckles crack, harsh like gunfire in the empty room, that she realizes she’s clenched her fists at all. The Asshole only gets more smug. “Maybe I just value my privacy.”

“You lost that by coming back here,” she tells him, tight, as he stands, unfurling half a head taller than her. Still, she didn’t get on the flight deck by being cowed by a few inches. “Not just anyone gets offered a seat in Rex Tyrannous.”

“Well, I don’t want it.” He slings the towel around his neck, turning toward the door. “As soon as the prince deigns to let me in his head, we can all go home.”

Kiki is a Seiran, a name that commands respect in every dome in the Pacific. Conversations end when she says they end, and no one has ever put their back to her.

But this Asshole just starts to walk away, like she isn’t a general’s daughter, like her mother didn’t save a whole city, like she’s some rookie straight out of the academy.

“Hey.” She grips his arm hard, fingers wrapped like talons. “I’m still--”

There’s no warning; one minute she’s got a hand on him and the next she’s on the ground, jaw radiating pain like the heart of a jaeger. She lifts a hand to it, and oh, that is gonna leave one hell of a bruise.

“Fuck.” Obi stares down at her, those strange gold eyes wide and jaw slack, horror etched in every line of his face. “Jesus.”

She gets to her feet, knees wobbling beneath her. Asshole didn’t kid around when he laid one on you, that’s for sure.

“Hell,” he hisses, hands hovering around her, like he can’t decide whether to help her or ignore her. “Sorry. Fuck. Sorry. I didn’t even--”

Okay, that’s enough.

She’s smaller than him, lighter built, but she knows how to pack enough wallop to send him stumbling back. Her knuckles sting-- he’s got a hard head for a boy with such delicate cheekbones-- but it’s worth it to see his face ruck up in confusion, to see him cradling his own jaw.

“All right,” he laughs after a long moment, shaking himself out. “That’s fair.”

“It is,” she agrees, stepping up to him. “But it was my fault. Let’s try this over. I’m Kiki Seiran.”

She thrust out a hand, and he just stares, like he think it might bite him. Fair enough; her other one is still red from where she hit him.

“Right.” His own hand envelops her own, giving it a good firm squeeze. “I’m Obi.”