#nobody else quit. everybody else decided that it was worth putting up with very direct wage theft and tax fraud to avoid unemployment

[rabbiteclair]

a while back my mom discovered that the owner of the company was stealing basically all of the money that he was supposed to submit for things like 'taxes' and 'health insurance' and 'court-mandated payments' for the employees, listing them on the pay stubs but then pocketing the money to help keep the company afloat

she then made sure that everybody in the company knew, submitted her resignation effective immediately, and spent about the next week calling government offices to report every crime, regulatory violation, and breach of employment contract that she could think of. and now it looks like the series of investigations that she kicked off might be the thing that finally destroys this man's company.

sometimes I'm proud of her

[crystalninjaphoenix]

Jairsolas

Fantasy Masks AU: Chapter Six

A JSE Fanfic

*gasp* A POV change?! For the first time in this story?! How exciting! Yeah short description because I’ve had a long day as of queueing this, but basically we follow Marvin as he tries to track down the King. But instead, along the way, he meets someone new. And that’s all I have to say. Hope you enjoy :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

The noble family Portmota lived on the edge of the Southern Moors, their castle built on the last bit of solid land before the rivers came in and flooded the south of the kingdom. Officially, their claim covered all of the Moors, but everybody knew that the Moors ran on their own, much like the mountain villages to the west and north. But the meagerness of their claim didn’t stop the family from building themselves a solid, grand castle. It sat on top of a small hill, surrounded by a thick stone wall. The castle’s multiple towers reached the sky, and were numerous to require a large staff to keep the place running for the noble family and any visitors they might have.

With such a large body of servants, it was easy to slip in unnoticed. They always accepted help, and as long as you didn’t appear troublesome, they’d immediately snatch you up and put you to work the moment you asked for a position, no interview needed. 

This was something Marvin found out first hand when he decided to infiltrate the castle in preparation for the King’s visit.

Maybe they needed help to clean up for said visit, maybe they were always like this, the result was the same either way. All Marvin had to do was show up on the grounds, dressed in ragged clothes, and he was immediately hired by the head servant. She didn’t even mind when he said he had to keep his cat nearby at all times.

Once he was inside, it only took him a few days to get a scope of things. Normally his sense of direction was terrible, but the servants were always being sent on numerous chores, so the castle’s layout quickly solidified in his mind. The cleaning and cooking was...hard, he had to admit. Unlike Jackie and Schneep, he hadn’t grown up doing chores, and taking care of things was a relatively new skill. He went to bed in the servants’ quarters exhausted. But this was a small price to pay for the opportunity that had presented itself.

He began to notice odd things about the castle. First of all, effort was put into cleaning and clearing every room in every wing, even the ones that had been sealed off so the heat wouldn’t escape into the winter air. Every candlestick was being polished, every tapestry dusted out. Why all the work? Unless...there was something big happening.

There were also a lot more people wandering around the castle. Visitors. Nobility, to be specific. An oddly high amount. Not that the nobility didn’t like to go see each other, especially for parties, but the Portmota claim was currently home to just one person: the Marquess Portmota, the eldest member of the family. Marvin knew all the other Portmotas were either traveling, or had married into other noble families and now lived with them. There were far too many visitors in the castle for one woman to entertain, even for something as important as a Longest Night celebration.

Not to mention the rumors circling through the servants’ ranks. News spread fast through this network, and soon, maids, cooks, and gardeners were muttering to each other about the King himself visiting.

Marvin tried not to get too close to any of these servants. It would just...get in the way. Sure, many of them were friendly to him, offering to share lunches or spend their breaks with him. But...no, it wouldn’t work out. It couldn’t. Besides, he didn’t need them. All he needed was his familiar, Draco.

He’d been in Portmota Castle for a week when the rumors started to buzz. The cleaning suddenly intensified, and the visitors to the keep began strutting about in their finest clothes. One night, to confirm his suspicions, he asked a laundress named Mina what was going on.

“Huh? You mean you haven’t heard? You haven’t seen?” Mina glanced about the laundry room where she was busy working. Seeing nobody else nearby, she leaned close to Marvin and whispered, “They’ve seen the King! Here!”

Marvin’s eyes widened in exaggerated surprise. “Really? Why would he be here?”

“Why would he be here? For the Longest Night celebration!” Mina chuckled. “Elders, Westley, you can be oblivious,” she said, calling him by the fake name he was going by.

“Oh. That makes sense.” Marvin glanced down at the floor. Draco was batting at a loose sleeve dangling from a laundry bin, so he quickly bent over and scooped him up before the cat could knock the whole thing over. “Who saw him? How’d they know it was the King?”

“A couple people. Teresa, Connor, Kelley. They saw a man fitting his description walking around, with the brown hair and slender build, and Teresa pointed out he was walking very purposefully. Dressed finer than all other lords who’ve come to visit.” Mina dumped some of the laundry into a washbasin as she talked. “Kelley got really close to him, too, when they were serving food in the hall. They said he had the royal green eyes.”

“Royal green. Wow.” Marvin pretended to be in awe, and made sure not to show off any of the burning anger smoldering inside him. “If he’s the King, where’s he staying? I don’t think any room here would be noble enough for him.”

Mina shrugged. “Nobody’s said yet. There are a whole bunch of new rooms made up for the visitors, hard to tell. It’s not like he’ll be hanging the royal crest on the door.” She glanced about the room again, then nudged Marvin’s shoulder with some urgency. “Oh no, Ursula is coming. Better get out of sight before she demands you stop standing around and start working.”

“Right.”

That conversation was abruptly cut short, but Marvin got a lot of information from it. Namely, that the King really was here. The detail about the royal green eyes sealed it. Yes, the royal family were once known for their distinctive shade of green eyes, but none of them had actually been born with the color in recent generations. Until the current king. Something like that wouldn’t be forgotten easily. Now the question was how to get close to him.

He spent two days trying to figure out which room the King was staying in, but in the end, the answer fell right into his lap.

It was early morning, and he was in the kitchen, kneading bread for the day. It was a task he often volunteered for; something about the kneading motion was very calming to him. Even if Draco wandered around and tried to get under the feet of every grumbling chef and baker.

With no warning, the door suddenly flew open, and a voice called, “Any of you lot free for a quick delivery?!”

Everyone looked over in unison. It was Ursula, the head servant. “Depending what the delivery is!” answered Everett, the head cook.

“We need a breakfast tray prepared quick!” Ursula demanded. “It’s urgent!”

The chefs and bakers muttered amongst themselves. “How urgent is it?” Everett asked.

Ursula huffed. “Very. One of the lady’s important guests ordered it. And we don’t wanna upset him.”

Marvin’s head shot up. Could it be...?

“Alright, don’t get your skirt twisted, Helendaugh,” Everett muttered, rolling his eyes. “We’ll make one up. But you’ll need someone else to bring it up. We’re all busy here, if you couldn’t tell.”

“No one else can bring it up! They’re all busy too! Sure, I could scout around for someone, but that’ll take too long! Do I need to repeat that he ordered it urgently? Or that we can’t upset him?”

Marvin slowly raised his hand. “Um...sir? If you give me a minute, I’ll be finished. I can do it.”

Everett gave his kneading station a once-over, then nodded, satisfied. “Alright, that’ll be just enough time to make up the tray. See, Ursula? Westley can do it, no problem.”

Judging by the tightness of her face and the way she was wringing her hands, Ursula still thought there was a problem. But she stepped back. “Okay. Westley, you’ll want to head up the central tower, all the way to the top room. Knock on the door, but don’t wait for a reply. Open it and slide the tray right in, then close it and leave.”

“I understand, ma’am.”

“Make sure you do. This is very important, for a very important guest.” Ursula took a few more steps back, right out the door. Then she shut it behind her.

Some time later, Marvin was practically running through the halls of Portmota Castle, Draco at his heels. The central tower was quite far away from the kitchens. Though...a tower room was odd. Most nobility preferred to stay in the keep itself, since towers got drafty, and walking up and down the stairs was rarely worth the view. Maybe the King was different? Eh. It didn’t really matter. The King wouldn’t be around long enough to enjoy that tower room.

Marvin stopped at the base of the central tower, breathing heavily. He quickly glanced around, but luckily, the area was clear of any servants or noble visitors. Good. He needed to be quick. He slid over to the wall and knelt down, putting the tray of food on the floor. There was a floor-length tapestry nearby, and he pulled it over his shoulders, partially hiding him from view.

Then he reached under his shirt and pulled out a pendant on a chain. A beautiful pendant, with its smooth, palm-sized emerald and silver frame looking too expensive for the rusted chain it hung from. Even though wearing it might give him away, he couldn’t bear to part from his magical focus. A wizard without a focus was like a painter without their paint. They couldn’t do anything without it.

Quickly, Marvin pressed two fingers to the surface of the emerald, which immediately started glowing. When he pulled his hand away, the glowing light stuck to his fingertips. He drew a rectangle on the ground with his fingers, leaving light behind like chalk on a board. Once the rectangle was fully formed, the middle of it faded away. Now, Marvin was looking at the inside of a small box. And inside the box were a few things. A small dagger, a bottle of brown glass, a coil of thread, a white handkerchief, and a candle. Marvin plucked the bottle out from the box. He reached for the breakfast tray—swatting Draco away in the process with a “No, not for you”—and pulled it closer. Then he unstopped the bottle, poured a few drops of the liquid inside onto all the food items, and stopped it again, putting it back inside the small box. Once the bottle was back in place, the glowing rectangle disappeared. The floor reappeared as solid stone once more, with no sign of the magical box that had just been there.

“Good,” Marvin said, grinning to himself. He pulled away the tapestry, picked up the food tray, and stood up. “Now for the most difficult part...the stairs.”

That statement was a joke—a joke for no one, really, since Draco was the only one around and he didn’t really understand human humor—but Marvin was definitely winded by the time he reached the room at the tower top. No matter how often he walked up stairs, no matter how frequently he’d done so in the past week, he still hated them. Maybe that said more about how fit he was than the design of the stairs themselves. Which made no sense, he’d spent the past few years running around the kingdom, surely he’d be more fit by now?

He was getting distracted. The room door was in front of him. Wooden. A fine door, but no more fine than literally any other door in the castle. Yet...the King was inside.

Following the instructions, Marvin knocked on the door, but didn’t wait for a reply before easing it open and setting the tray down on the floor inside. Draco almost poked his head through the gap, but Marvin pushed him back, then closed the door.

He waited for a few minutes. Expecting to hear movement inside. But there was nothing. Well...the room must have thick walls, then. With his task accomplished, Marvin turned back and headed back down the stairs, which proved much friendlier on the way down.

That poison worked quickly. By that night, they’d hear news of the King’s assassination.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

But that was not the case.

Marvin waited with anticipation, but nothing happened. There was no outcry of poison, no panic as the King’s lackeys were left unsure what to do. Things proceeded as normal. Leaving him confused. He was sure he got the dose right, and he’d made sure to poison all of the food on the tray. Hadn’t he?

The next morning, the exact same thing happened. Ursula barged into the kitchen, demanding a breakfast tray for an important guest. Everett said everyone was busy, and Ursula repeated the urgency. So, Marvin volunteered to deliver it again. Once he was alone, he took the poison from the hidden box and again dosed the food, making sure to add a bit more this time before putting the poison back and delivering the food to the top of the tower. He even had to push Draco back from the door again.

But still, nothing happened.

And when the same thing happened the next morning, Marvin was about ready to shout out “Am I going mad?!” But he didn’t, and instead played it cool. This time, Everett asked him to take the tray up ahead of time, expecting him to be able to. And of course, Marvin agreed, and secretly added even more of the poison. And of course, Draco once again tried to squeeze into the room at the top of the tower. Honestly, Marvin felt he should have more control of his familiar, but given how cats were impossible to order around under normal circumstances, he took Draco even listening to him as a plus.

When nothing happened the fourth day, Marvin began to suspect something unusual was going on. Perhaps someone tampered with the poison? No, that should be impossible. That box was buried in the ground, far away from Portmota Castle. He could only access it because of his magic. But...maybe? If he tried again today and the King still did not die, he’d try a different method.

So once more, he took the breakfast tray when offered, headed to a private area to get the poison out of the box, added yet more of it to the food, and trekked up the stairs to the room at the top of the central tower. He knocked on the door, then without waiting for a response, opened it to slide the tray inside.

And the instant the opening was big enough, Draco leaped through the gap and into the room beyond.

“Draco!” Marvin cried out, dropping the breakfast tray. Without thinking about what to do next, he threw the door open and rushed inside to scoop up his cat.

But of course, there was someone in there. Someone who’d been startled by the sudden appearance of an off-white cat, but was even more surprised to see someone run into the room after it.

Marvin skidded to a halt, looked around, and before he could even think about it, blurted out, “You’re not the King.”

The person inside slowly shook their head.

“Oh.” Marvin took a step back. Now that he wasn’t worried about his familiar jumping into the hands of the King, he gave the stranger inside a once-over.

The person—Marvin now recognized him as a man—looked a bit like the King, at a first glance. He had brown hair, as most people in the kingdom did, and was fairly thin. But he was shorter than the King was said to be, had a distinct, dark mustache, and most importantly, blue eyes. Not green. His clothes were fine, indicating nobility, but the style was a bit old fashioned. Like the black bow he wore around his neck, something that had gone out of style at least ten years ago.

Draco was sitting on a stool next to the man, looking very self-satisfied. Evidently, the strange man had started petting him right before Marvin barged in.

“Well...sorry, then,” Marvin said awkwardly.

The man smiled and shrugged. He gestured to Draco.

“Huh? Yes, sorry about him. And about barging in, I wasn’t thinking.” Marvin glanced around the room. “So...is the King going to be back soon?”

The man tilted his head, puzzled. And shook his head.

“Why do you look so confused?” Marvin took a minute to think. Then a possibility occurred to him. “Wait...is the King...not staying in these rooms?”

And the man shook his head again.

“Damn it,” Marvin whispered, barely audible. 

Honestly, looking around the room, he didn’t think this place was fit for a king, anyway. Certainly, it was noble. There were plush sofas and chairs sitting about, and a desk with a mirror and stool in the corner. The windows had thick blue curtains that one could pull over to cover the glass. And he could see two more doors, both slightly ajar and showing a bedroom and a bathroom. But...it was rather small, in all honesty. The furniture was pushed together, and the blue wallpaper looked a bit old. Not to mention it was cold, as well, with no fireplace. Marvin wished he’d thought to bring a cloak, but the one he owned was too fine, and he had to leave it behind while masquerading as a servant.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed,” Marvin said politely. “They said someone very important was ordering the breakfast trays so—wait, have you been eating that food?”

The man looked embarrassed, and shook his head again.

“No? Well it couldn’t just disappear.”

Now even more embarrassed, the man pointed towards the bathroom.

“You’ve been...dumping it in the lavatory?” Marvin realized, shocked. “Every day? Well no wonder you look so thin, then, if you’ve been skipping breakfast the whole time.” He then remembered the tray of poisoned food he’d brought, and dropped in the hallway. “Oh. But ah, might have actually been a good idea this time. I mean, the—if I’m being honest, it was all undercooked, anyway,” he lied. “And the one for today is all splattered now. Sorry.”

The stranger smiled good-naturedly. He nodded.

“Um...I’ll just leave now.” Marvin took a few steps backwards towards the door.

Hurriedly, the man shook his head, gesturing for him to stay. Meanwhile, Draco pressed his head against the man’s arm, demanding pets.

“Oh. Right. Draco, come on.”

Ears drooping, disappointed, Draco hopped off the stool and walked out the door. “Sorry about all this,” Marvin muttered, backing fully out of the room and pushing the door closed.

As it shut, he could have sworn the man inside had a very strange expression on his face. Something like disappointment and desperation mixed in one.

How...odd. Marvin hesitated, wondering if he should go back inside. But...maybe he’d misread the man’s face. That was far more likely than...whatever he just saw. Yes. He should turn his mind to more practical matters. Like where the King was actually staying, if not here. And getting someone to come up and clean the tray he’d dropped.

But as he retreated back down the stairs, he felt somehow regretful.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

The next day, the order for a breakfast tray came in, as usual. Marvin wasn’t sure about delivering it, but by this point, he’d volunteered enough that Everett and Ursula expected him to. After all, it was much easier to have one person do something than to constantly find someone new every day. So Marvin quietly took the tray and headed to the central tower once more. This time, he did not stop to poison the food along the way. Now that he knew the King wasn’t there, it wasn’t much use.

When he knocked on the door, it swung open before he could pull it open himself. The strange man from the day before was standing there, smiling and practically bouncing with excitement. He immediately grabbed Marvin and dragged him into the room.

“Whoa! Watch out, you’ll spill the milk!” Marvin quickly set the breakfast tray down on the nearby desk, making sure nothing had fallen off. He didn’t want to make another mess.

The strange man didn’t respond to that comment. He was kneeling on the floor, petting Draco. Much to the cat’s delight, of course. There was a lot of purring.

“Why’d you do that?” Marvin asked. “Pull me in, I mean. If you want to know if the breakfast’s good to eat this time, it is. I...um, checked. Did you just want to pet my cat?”

The man made a so-so gesture.

Marvin suddenly felt frustrated. “Why don’t you just tell me what you want?!” he snapped.

At that, the man stopped. He looked over at Marvin, then stood up. He was wearing another neck bow today, blue this time, and he silently pulled it down so that his neck was more visible. There, right in the middle of his throat, were two scars, arranged in a + shape. Clearly the result of some sort of surgery.

“Oh.” Marvin’s stomach immediately sank. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t think—”

The man waved away his stammered apology with a small smile. It was clearly a sensitive subject, but since it was an accident, all was forgiven.

“Still, I...I’m very sorry. Ah...do you have something to write with, maybe?” Marvin suggested tentatively.

The man shook his head. He did that a lot, didn’t he?

“...nothing at all? What about in this desk?” Marvin wandered over to said desk, opening the drawers. But the man was right. There weren’t any quills or chalk to be seen. There wasn’t even any stationary, and Marvin knew that nobles were fond of keeping their own personalized paper nearby in case writing was needed. Instead, the desk’s drawers were mostly empty, only containing a few game boards and card decks.

As Marvin looked through the drawers, the man walked over to stand next to him, watching. When Marvin opened the drawer with the cards inside, he reached forward and quickly snatched up one of the decks. He turned to Marvin, grinning, and pointed at him, then at the cards.

“You...want to play cards?” Marvin asked, trying not to sound excited.

The man nodded.

“Well...I’m supposed to have chores, but why not?” Marvin grinned as well. “I have to warn you, I’m very good at Luck of the Deal.”

That only made the man smile wider. He guided Marvin over to the sofas and gestured for him to sit.

A couple hours passed before Marvin remembered he had more to do. Not just chores, but he also had to locate the King before the Longest Night celebration, after which he’d leave and return to Suilthair, the capital, and be untouchable. So Marvin hurriedly excused himself, but found himself leaving with a certain spring in his step. It had been a while since he’d sat down and played a few card games with someone. He...really missed it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Over the next few days, he and the man in the tower developed a routine. Marvin would take a breakfast tray up to the room, and the man would drag him inside for a few games. Cards, mostly, though they pulled out some of the board games, too. The breakfast tray would be mostly ignored, though Marvin tried to insist that the man actually eat it. The stranger was on the thin side, after all, he probably needed a meal. A bit odd to see a skinny noble, actually. They could definitely afford enough to eat. But Marvin wasn’t going to ask, in case it was sensitive, like the voice issue.

There were, however, other questions that he wasn’t afraid to ask. The first one came up on the second day of this routine. They’d finished their first game of cards—Enchanter’s Gambit, a shorter one—and Marvin had asked, slowly, “Can you tell me your name? I understand you can’t speak it, but there has to be something I can call you.”

The man paused in shuffling the cards, thinking. Then he set down the deck, stood up, and walked over into the bedroom. A few moments later, he returned, holding something. He handed it to Marvin.

“A handkerchief?” Marvin asked, turning it over in his hands.

The man pointed to one of the cloth’s corners. Marvin examined it, and saw a small design embroidered in gray thread. A rabbit, curled up and sleeping, surrounded by a circle of thorny plants. It was the sign of a noble family. But not just any family. One Marvin instantly recognized.

“That’s the Jairsolas crest,” he gasped. “But—that’s—a-are you a friend of theirs, or...?” He trailed off, not needing to finish his question. The man’s grim expression confirmed everything. “That’s...impossible,” Marvin whispered. “They’re all dead.”

More specifically, they’d been massacred. By the King and his forces.

The death of the Jairsolas family had been one of the earliest signs of how dangerous the King was. The Count and Countess Jairsolas had ruled over the small family peacefully, loved by the people of their land. When the King began demanding more warriors, when he began taking away royal funds from medicine and farming, they were one of the nobles who protested. Eventually, they refused to enact his royal decrees in their northern territory, saying they would not compromise the welfare of their people. They accused the King of swiftly becoming a tyrant. The King immediately proved them right by forcibly invading their land and killing the entire family.

And yet, even after this clearly unwarranted act, there were still nobles out there who stood by the King. There were still warriors who pledged loyalty to him and believed in his cause. There were even common people who repeated that the King was just and good, though that was usually because they were simply unaware of what was going on. The nobles and warriors, however, had no excuse. They continued to fawn over the King and happily harm innocents. It made Marvin sick just thinking about them.

“I’m...so sorry,” Marvin said quietly.

The man nodded slowly, sadness flashing in his eyes. He must’ve been a more distant relative, to survive the King’s attack. Marvin, unsure what to do, placed a hand on his arm, hoping the gesture would convey the sympathy he felt. The man patted it, and smiled a bit, indicating it was alright.

“Jairsolas is a bit cumbersome,” Marvin said slowly. “Can I call you...Jair? For short?”

The man nodded, eagerly accepting the nickname. He pointed at Marvin, raising an eyebrow.

“Me? I’m M—I’m Westley.” Marvin remembered his pseudonym just in time, and quickly changed the subject. “Want to play another round?”

For someone who couldn’t speak, Jair was very expressive, gesturing widely and exaggerating his facial movements. Marvin assumed that was necessary, to compensate for not being able to say anything. Though it was odd that there were no writing utensils or parchment in his room. That seemed like it would be helpful, and easy to acquire, too. But Marvin didn’t want to push the issue. Maybe it was just a preference. Or maybe Jair assumed Marvin, appearing to be a servant, couldn’t read much.

Despite the issues of communication, Marvin proceeded with his questions. About eight days after the first breakfast tray delivery, he got tired of Jair continually ignoring the breakfast. That was perfectly good food going to waste. “Why do you even order the trays if you don’t want to eat them?”

Jair looked up, a bit surprised to be asked this while the two of them were in the middle of a game of Fidchell. He indicated himself, then shook his head.

“You...you mean you’re not the one ordering them?” Marvin asked, confused.

Jair nodded, confirming this, and looked back down at the board, moving a piece.

“Wh—how’d you do that?!” Marvin spluttered, momentarily distracted. “I was going to move one of the warriors there—you just cut off my path!” He scanned the board. “How did you surround my king again?!”

Jair laughed silently, a breathy sound, clapping his hands in delight at winning another game.

Marvin scowled. Draco promptly jumped onto the sofa and knocked over the board, scattering the pieces. “Yea, take down that game. I’m shit at it, apparently.” He sighed, and grabbed the cat, moving him to the side. “Who’s ordering the breakfast trays, then? Can you tell them to stop? It’s enough work as it is.”

Shaking his head, Jair pointed at Marvin.

“I could find some other way to get up here.” Marvin paused, noticing Jair’s slightly uncomfortable look on his face as he went about collecting the knocked-over game pieces. “Can you...not tell them to stop?” He thought about it for a moment. “It must be someone higher ranking than you, then. That would make sense, and it would explain why they always said someone important ordered the trays. Heh. Is it the King?”

Marvin asked the question jokingly, but for a moment, Jair’s shoulders stiffened. Then he brushed off the question, laughing without sound again.

That...couldn’t be right, could it? Why would the King go out of his way to order breakfast for some random noble? And one related to the Jairsolas family, which he destroyed? It didn’t make sense. There must be some sort of lie or trickery involved. Maybe it wasn’t actually the King. Or the King didn’t know Jair’s true identity. Or Jair didn’t know what happened to the rest of the family. Something like that.

Either way, Jair was quickly putting away the Fidchell pieces and board, clearly wanting to move on. So Marvin dropped the subject for the day.

But he still needed information. The King was somewhere in the castle. Other servants had caught glimpses of him, but Marvin still hadn’t figured out where he was staying, or run into him at all. Longest Night was approaching. He was running out of time. So, he decided to ask Jair a few more questions.

“Have you seen the King around?” he asked one day over a game of Saelan checkers. “Apparently he’s in the castle for the celebration, but I haven’t seen the tail of him. Others have, though. What bad luck, huh?”

Just like the last time he brought the King up, Jair stiffened, and immediately denied anything with a shake of his head. He pointed to the board.

“Right.” Marvin moved one of the small stone balls that served as pieces, getting closer to the end goal at the other side of the board. He wasn’t too good at board games, preferring cards, but he was better at this than he was at Fidchell. “I suppose I shouldn’t assume you’d know, anyway. I was just curious. I’ve never seen him. Does he really have green eyes?”

Jair nodded, distracted by planning out his next move.

“It’s strange that none of us know what room he’s staying in. That’s why I assumed he was staying here, ha.” Marvin watched Jair’s face as he continued to talk. “Is he even staying on the castle grounds? I know it’s traditional and all, but I don’t know if anyone would stop him.”

Jair shrugged. This time, his response didn’t seem like avoiding the question, but genuinely not knowing.

“Do you...I’ve never seen you out in the castle,” Marvin realized. “Do you stay in these rooms the whole time?”

Squirming, Jair didn’t answer, instead focusing on jumping one of his pieces over two of Marvin’s, capturing the last one.

“That’s not good for you. Staying in all the time, I mean. Especially when you don’t have a fireplace here. And it looks like an old room, you’re probably breathing in dust all the time. You don’t have to go out and make conversation with others, or even go outside, but just walk around. Do you even go to the main hall for dinner?”

Jair leaned back and looked away, folding his arms.

“Oh. Sorry, I...didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Marvin said. “I was just...worried, I suppose. You don’t eat breakfast, you don’t go out, you don’t have a fireplace...it’s just...worrying. I’m...worried about...your health.”

Despite the clumsiness of Marvin’s statements, Jair looked touched. He patted Marvin’s hand and gave him a reassuring smile.

“If you’re sure you’re alright,” Marvin said reluctantly. “Try to take care of yourself, though.”

Jair placed his hand over his heart, suddenly emotional. He nodded, smiling. 

Had...no one ever said anything like that to him before? Had no one looked after him? Marvin felt something stirring deep inside his chest. A familiar ache. He’d...he’d never someone he could...well...relate to.

Marvin was supposed to ask more about the King, but he found he couldn’t go through with it today. He would try again tomorrow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

The next day, Marvin arrived at the tower room a bit later than usual. It took them a bit longer to cook it today, since there was more food than the previous times. He hoped that meant Jair was planning to actually eat it, and not just feed pieces of sausage to Draco the whole time.

He knocked on the door, waited for a few moments for Jair to open, but when he didn’t appear, Marvin pulled open the door himself and walked inside. Huh. Jair wasn’t actually in the room. The bedroom and bathroom doors were closed, so maybe he was doing something in there. “Hello? I’m here,” Marvin called as he set the tray down on the desk. Something brushed against his legs, and he looked down to see Draco curling around his legs. “Hmm? What’s wrong?” Draco didn’t usually stick close to legs, not after too many occasions of people suddenly moving and tripping over him. And his tail was standing straight up, the fur all puffed out.

At that moment, the bedroom door opened, and Jair walked out. He waved at Marvin the moment he saw him.

“Tthere you are. I was wondering why you didn’t open the door.” Marvin glanced back down at Draco, still on edge, then back up. “Is everything alright?”

Jair nodded, waving away the question. He then walked straight over to the desk and started rummaging around the drawers, pausing for a moment to gesture at Marvin.

“Oh, I don’t want to do anything specific today. Maybe more cards?”

Nodding again, Jair pulled out one of the decks. While he walked over to the sofa and began shuffling, Marvin glanced around the room once more. Nothing looked out of place...what had Draco so spooked? He walked over to the window and pulled back the curtains, looking out the glass at the scenery. Clear skies ahead. On the ground below, there were...a lot of people in the surrounding open-air keep. More than he saw on the way over to the tower. That wasn’t too unusual, though. So Marvin closed the curtains again. “What were you doing?” he asked Jair.

Jair looked up at him, confused.

“I mean, you’re usually waiting for me. What was different this time?”

There was a slight pause. Then Jair shrugged. He pulled on the ends of his neck bow, tightening it, and followed it up with a so-so gesture.

“I don’t understand, what do you mean? Something about getting dressed?” Marvin asked. This whole thing felt...odd. Why did it feel odd? Was it just because Draco was still clinging to his legs?

Actually, Draco wasn’t just staying close to his legs. He was also staring at something, ears flat, a warning growl low in his throat. Marvin followed his line of sight...to the door they’d just come through. And...now that he wasn’t speaking, he could hear something underneath the sounds of shuffling cards. Faint, but growing louder.

Footsteps coming up the stairs.

Now why would someone be coming up the stairs? The only thing in the central tower were guest rooms. But most rooms were farther below, and the steps were definitely close enough to be heard. Meaning...someone was coming to this room. Why? Jair wasn’t exactly sociable. It could’ve been Ursula coming to get Marvin for chores, but...Marvin grabbed his amulet through his shirt, and his eyes lit up the smallest amount. No, he could sense more than one living person approaching. Quite a lot more, actually.

“Can I use your lavatory?” Marvin asked. He didn’t wait for Jair to nod before heading over and disappearing inside, closing the door behind him.

Just in time for the room’s entrance door to open, and for all those living people to fill the room. Accompanying the footsteps he’d heard before was the faint sound of metallic clanking, like...like chainmail. Or weapons.

Panic flooded Marvin’s mind. They’d discovered him, hadn’t they?! He had to get out of here! There was a small window in the bathroom, maybe just barely big enough to squeeze through. It was quite a drop to the keep below, but better than nothing. Marvin tried to break the glass with his fist, but only managed to crack it, so he pulled his amulet out and began to focus.

“Open up! We know you’re in there, traitor!” Bang bang bang bang bang!

“Damn!” Marvin cursed. They were knocking on the bathroom door. He didn’t have time to break the window, he needed to go through them! He whirled around—

The bathroom door slammed open, revealing three warriors wearing tunics with the royal crest. Marvin grabbed his now-glowing amulet and made a throwing motion. Light flung from his hands, hardening to stone as it hurled through the air, and three good-sized rocks hit each warrior in the chest, knocking them down. Marvin immediately bolted.

The small room was packed with other warriors, as well. Many were blocking his way to the door, armed with broad-bladed swords. Marvin threw more light to either side of him, and the warriors yelled as they tried to get out of the way of the suddenly-appearing rocks. For the ones in front, he pulled more glow from the amulet, forming it into a long, thin whip made entirely of green flame. He swung it around and many of the warriors scattered. Two stood their ground, acting quickly to pull circular shields from their backs and block the magic fire. But then Marvin was in front of them, his hands ablaze with more flame.

And then pain wrapped around his torso.

He looked down just long enough to register the black thorny vines wrapped across his chest before suddenly being yanked backwards. Pulled off his feet, he landed on his back and was dragged across the floor for some distance before suddenly stopping. He looked up and saw a face looking down at him. Unnaturally blue eyes. Pale blonde hair, stylishly curled around her face. And a few smattering of freckles, almost disappearing beneath a light layer of cosmetics. She looked as surprised to see him as he felt seeing her. “Marvin,” she said.

“Thalia,” Marvin scowled.

“I didn’t think it would be you. They said the servant’s name was Westley. Unless—you lied, didn’t you? Like you always do.”

“You’ve always been the liar.”

“No I haven’t. I’m always honest with everyone.”

“Nope. I know you haven’t told anyone about those secret visits to the mountains, have you?” Marvin laughed at Thalia’s surprised expression. “That was hard to find out, but I immediately recognized your handiwork. Burning the stone? Really? Talk about excessive.”

“Shut up,” Thalia snapped. She reached up and touched a silver-and-ruby broach pinned on her tunic. Her focus. Her eyes lit up. “I’m the one in charge now.”

“No you’re not.” Marvin grabbed his own focus, flicking the light from it up into her face. Thalia yelped as the glow turned into liquid and went into her eyes, and she lost concentration on the vine spell. Marvin shot up and looked around the room again. Now counting, there were ten warriors. One of them was holding his cat-shaped mask. Damn it! They went through his belongings and found it. He could have left it behind, but he brought it in case something happened and he needed it. Clearly that hadn’t been worth the risk.

All of the warriors were strategically blocking his ways out. The window, the door out, the doors to the bathroom and Jair’s bedroom—

Wait, Jair?! Where was he?!

Marvin didn’t have to look far. Jair was sitting in the exact spot he’d last seen him. On the sofa, having not moved a finger since the warriors and Thalia entered. His eyes were fixed downward, his hands clutching the deck of cards tightly in his lap. Marvin blinked. “Jair, what are you—”

Fog suddenly filled the room, unnaturally quickly, blinding him in seconds. Marvin whirled around, lighting up his amulet to try and see through the mist. 

Dark figures lunged out of the fog and grabbed at him. Shouting, Marvin threw the light in a circle, turning it to green flame again. Several people cried out, and the fog lifted as the fire burned through it. Marvin saw the surrounding figures of the warriors, and then someone lunged at him from behind, wrapping legs around his and pulling his hair.

He yelped. “Thalia! Get off me!”

“No, give me that focus!” Thalia demanded, clawing at the chain around his neck.

“Die in freezing!” Marvin tried to grab his amulet, but that was a bit difficult while the chain was strangling him. He had to divert effort to giving himself room to breathe. “Who jumps on someone’s back?! You’re thirty years old!”

“You’re the one acting like a child! You stole that, I recognize it!”

“It was mine, too!”

After a few moments, the combination of struggling and the weight on his back caused Marvin to fall over, bringing Thalia down with him. The moment he was down, five of the ten warriors lunged forward, pinning him. He struggled, but there were just too many. Then Thalia pulled once more on the chain holding his amulet, and it broke. She backed away, holding the amulet upward in triumph.

Out of nowhere, there was a yowling sound. Thalia screamed as a streak of off-white fur ran at her and began clawing at her leg, tearing through her trousers while spitting and hissing. Instinctively, she kicked, and the ball of fur went flying across the room.

“Draco!” Marvin cried, managing to push free of the warriors for long enough to see his cat stand up again. “No! Get out of here!”

Draco wailed, then hissed, ready to attack despite being outnumbered by eleven tall humans.

“No! Out! Run!” Marvin’s magic was quickly fading without his amulet within reach, but he had to get Draco to safety. He looked Draco in the eyes from across the room. His flickered blue for a moment, and Draco’s eyes glowed for a second in the matching shade. Marvin sent the image of a safe place to go through the connection he had with his familiar, and followed it up with instructions on how to get there.

Reluctantly, Draco turned...then bolted, weaving in between the legs of the warriors in a sudden burst of speed. Once he reached the door, an unnatural wave of strength overcame him, and he pushed it open and disappeared. The warriors cried out, but Thalia called, “Let it go! It can’t do much!” She looked down at Marvin. “Really? A cat? Why not bond with something more useful, like a dog?”

“Fuck you!” Marvin shouted, and lunged at her.

Then a warrior brought the hilt of their sword down on the back of his head, and everything went black.

[ecto-american]

The Bachelor

Phic Phight oneshot for @skellagirl: To help raise money for education, Vlad lets a date with himself be auctioned off. To his surprise, Harriet was quite a persistent bidder, and to his bigger surprise...he actually had a good time. Vlad/Harriet

On FFN and AO3

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"I don't need help getting a date, Jack," Vlad told him shortly. Why did he even come over to FentonWorks? He couldn't even remember why. At least he had some coffee to sip on. If Jack was actually good for anything, it was brewing good coffee.

"Oh come on, V-man! It's not like that! It's to raise money for education!" Jack tried to persuade as he was pouring himself his own cup. Vlad made a small face at the idea. "There's going to be lots of bachelors up there with ya, it won't be just you!"

"I don't think so." He had much better things to do than be paraded around.

"Please Vlad?" Jack nearly begged.

"You know, Vlad, you'd be quite the crowd-drawer," Maddie finally spoke up. Vlad glanced over at her. She was focused on some ectoplasmic samples that were on the counter, dangerously close to some chicken that was marinating for dinner. Mental note; do NOT stay for dinner tonight. "You're likely Amity Park's most sought after bachelor." She looked over her shoulder at him, and with a clearly fake smile, she added, "It'd be really good for you to have a nice woman who's interested in you."

Vlad frowned at her emphasis. He took another drink. It would look good if he showed up for appearances, got it over with and wowed some whatever woman into helping his media image. Election season was coming up, and he was up against the ex-mayor. Doing something for the children would definitely boost him.

"...It is for charity," he said slowly. "And after all, a man like me could fetch for a nice price."

"Of course!" Jack boomed excitedly. "You were voted sexiest billionaire by Cosmopolitan this year!" Oh god, why the hell did Jack know that? And say that? "Trust me, the crowd'll got mad for you!"

Vlad forced a smile.

"I cannot wait."

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He really could have waited. Friday night had come, and he found himself very reluctantly walking around the Casper High gym, looking at all the silent auction items up on display on cheap collapsable tables. Vlad mentally thanked himself for making sure Daniel would be too busy all night with Skulker to even have the time to come around to laugh at him.

Ugh, nothing really that good was around up for auction in here. Except for him, obviously. He could tell who was a bachelor for auction just by seeing who else was way overdressed to be standing around in a public high school on a Friday night, and Vlad already knew that he was the best option. He spied another one of these men as the individual picked his nose and wiped it on one of the tables. Vlad made a grossed out face. Easily, the best option.

He glanced around more, boredly trying to waste another twenty minutes before he had to go to the auditorium for the bachelor auctioning. This was the worst. Why did he agree to this? His eyes scanned for any familiar face.

"Harriet!" Vlad instantly recognized the journalist. She turned to face him, giving a small smile and wave when she realized who it was. He took a few steps over towards her. "What are you doing here?"

"My niece goes to Casper High," she replied. "So I decided to come around." She nodded her head at the silent auction she was seemingly considering. It was a high end camera bundle, including not just a high end camera but extra lenses, batteries, the case, the whole works honestly, donated by a local electronics store. "Check it out. Maybe even buy a date so that my mother stops asking me about when I'm getting married," she lightly joked. Vlad chuckled.

"You should consider just buying me," Vlad half-joked back. "I'm by far your best option." Harriet gave a hum as she raised an eyebrow.

"Oh really?" she inquired. Vlad motioned to himself as if it was obvious, flashing a smile.

"Of course. Self made billionaire, tech industry pioneer, scientist, mayor of this fine city, and that's just the beginning," he bragged. She lightly shook her head with a smirk.

"Part time Dairy King worker that somehow caught the ice cream machine on fire, Skunk Punks lead singer whose voice cracked every time he sung anything and guitarist who couldn't play guitar," she listed off. Vlad rolled his eyes with a frown. "Idiot who kept sticking his head into the lab equipment machines and lost his eyebrows for six months. Skater wanna-be that broke both of his ankles trying to do tricks on the campus fountain." Vlad scowled.

"You can stop now," he complained. Harriet laughed.

"Oh, I almost need to buy you purely so that I can remind you that you're not all that and a bag of chips," she replied. "And I can finally corner you into an actual interview. You keep pushing me off." She faked a pout. "It's almost like you don't wanna be around me."

"Don't you have to be nosy somewhere else?" he asked.

"Hmm, not tonight." She glanced up at the clock on the wall. "I should go find a seat for the auction. You should probably get up on stage, make yourself look all nice and presentable."

Vlad rolled his eyes, waving her off.

"I need to use the restroom first," he replied. "You head on out."

"See up on the stage. Too bad this isn't Chippendales," she joked. Vlad felt his cheeks flush, and he glared at her. She walked off. Vlad glanced down at the camera bundle she had been eying. He glanced at the auction sheet, and he could tell by the handwriting that she had put in a bid that he knew somebody would eventually counter-offer. Vlad wrote his auctioning number down, and a bid he knew nobody would go over before he made his way to the auditorium.

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Finally, it was his turn. They put him last, which he completely understood. Always save the best for last. He nearly had dozed off in boredom in his seat while everybody else was auctioned off for barely a hundred dollars.

"We'll start the bidding, as always, at fifty dollars," the overly enthusiastic host said. Vlad mentally scoffed. He was definitely worth more than that. Ugh, this was the last time he did anything to help children. Fuck those little brats. "Fifty-five!"

A bunch of the auction fans shot up in the air. Vlad smiled in satisfaction.

"Oh wow! Okay, well how about sixty-five?" None of the hands went down. "Seventy-five." Two hands went down. "Eighty-five?" Three more hands reluctantly went down. "A hundred?" Most of the hands kept on standing. "Well!" the host chuckled, before directing his attention to Vlad. "You sure are a popular fella!"

No shit. He was a billionaire.

"Let's jump up a bit! One hundred fifty!" Finally, a good amount of the hands went down, leaving only a handful up. "One hundred seventy-five!" No hands down. "Two hundred!" A few reluctantly went down, leaving only four. "Okay, okay! How about-"

"Three hundred!" one of the women called out. The auctioneer looked surprised.

"Oh! Oh um. Okay! Does anybody wanna go higher than three hundred?" he asked.

"Three twenty-five!" Harriet's voice was instantly recognized by Vlad, and he stared in surprise.

"Three-fifty!" the first woman rebutted. Vlad studied her, only to quickly notice that this was a woman he really hadn't ever met before.

"Three seventy five!" Harriet wasted no time putting in her counter offer.

"Four hundred!"

"Four twenty five!"

"Four fifty!"

Vlad watched Harriet as the reporter's jaw clenched. She was staring at the competition with a hard stare.

"Five hundred!" she finally spoke. The other woman studied her, before giving a defeated sigh.

"No counter offer," the unfamiliar lady finally spoke. The auctioneer grinned, pointing to Harriet.

"Well! Looks like our highest prize of the night goes to bidder number seventy-four!"

Harriet met Vlad's eye, and she smiled. He smiled back.

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"So," Vlad asked, giving a coy smile. "You sure were an insistent bidder." Harriet flushed.

"I did it for the schools," she argued. "My niece goes to Casper High, remember?"

"Oh, I mean, if you did it just to help the schools," Vlad lightly teased. "Then we don't have to go out on the date." Harriet scoffed.

"No way, dude. I spent five-hundred dollars on you, and I'm going to get my money's worth." She poked him in the chest. "Which also means that you're buying me dinner, and some nice wine." Vlad rolled his eyes.

"Alright, alright," he reluctantly agreed. "What time shall I pick you up?" Harriet smiled.

"Uh, depends. When are you free? Tomorrow around seven? Ah, who am I kidding." She smirked at him. "You're probably free whenever. What else do you got going on? Be honest."

Vlad flushed red, scowling.

"Okay, I do happen to be free tomorrow night, but normally I'm not!" he insisted. Harriet snorted. "So you need to make sure you check with me before you schedule something."

"You got nothing," she teased in a sing-song voice.

"Oh? And what do you do?" Vlad challenged. She hummed.

"Well, typically on Mondays I visit my grandmother, Wednesday is girls' night with my friends, Thursdays I have my yoga class, and on the weekends I normally get friends with friends or co-workers, go hike, short trip. Whatever I feel like," she replied without missing a beat. Vlad hated Jack for convincing him to do this stupid auction. "And of course, several days a week I go to the gym."

"I go to the gym too," Vlad insisted. Harriet raised an eyebrow at him. "I do! I'm in excellent shape."

"Are you going to the gym, or do you use a home gym in your mansion?" she pressed. Vlad didn't reply. "Thought so. Guess we're on tomorrow at seven?"

"...Tomorrow at seven."

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Vlad had opted to simply drive himself in one of his flashy, yet more modest cars. It was honestly kind of hard to go to many places in a limo anyway, and not very intimate when there was an unintentional third party hanging out in the car. Harriet had texted him her address earlier, and he showed up right on time, pulling his car up to the curb of her house. A gentleman was never late, after all.

He parked, not bothering to lock his doors as he stepped up to her house. It was a typical small home in a decent little neighborhood. Not one that Vlad could ever imagine himself living in however, but it was cute. He stood at her front door. He exhaled harshly, mentally preparing himself.

He'd be lying to himself if he said that he wasn't nervous. It was one thing to date a new woman he had just met, but this was Harriet. She knew him when he was still a broke college student that worked part time at Dairy King and was in that terrible punk band with Jack.

Vlad rang her doorbell. He absentmindedly wondered if he'd have to wait on her for long, but thankfully, Harriet answered the door fairly quickly.

"Hey! Look at you!" she greeted cheerfully. Vlad knew he flushed a bit at the compliment, which made him...feel weird. That never happened before. "You really cleaned up for me." Okay now he had to roll his eyes a little. Vlad was in a nicer suit compared to normal, with a darker shirt collar and cufflinks, more polished shoes and the like.

"Ah, I'm nothing compared to how lovely you look this evening," he returned the compliment, and he could see Harriet's cheeks brighten a bit under her porch's poor lighting. They had texted each other about their plans, and so she had dressed appropriately for the five star restaurant; a black dress with dark green detailing that came to her knees, matching shoes and her hair done up. She had a formal black jacket over her arm, as well as a clutch handbag. "Are you ready?"

"Uh, one second!" Harriet turned to her door, checking to ensure it was locked. Once she did so, she turned, slipping her arm into his. "Now I am."

"Well, off we go," he smiled. "I think you'll like where we're going. It has the most divine sushi in Amity Park."

"I can't wait," Harriet replied. "I love sushi. Remember that campus sushi bar?"

"Absolutely," he replied. He walked her down the porch to his car. "Maddie worked there. She used to sneak us huge takeout boxes of leftovers."

"Oh I nearly forgot about that," Harriet laughed. "I'd help her smuggle out the boxes in my backpack."

"And you got soy sauce all over your bag four times," he chuckled. Harriet grumbled.

"Yeah, I had to re-print my final paper," she complained. "And eventually get a new bag that didn't smell like sushi all the time."

Vlad opened the car door for her. She slipped her arm out, giving him a thanks as she slipped inside.

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

Naturally, he had made a reservation for the best seat in the house; a table in a more private area of the place, indoors but near a large window that had a good view of the beautiful landscaping in their limited yard-area.

After giving his car to the valet and getting seated, Vlad glanced at the menu, immediately spying his favorite, rock shrimp tempura. However he looked around to see what else was available. Hmm, he was somewhat in the mood for BBQ Unagi…

"What do you normally get?" Harriet questioned as she looked over her options.

"...Know what? Since this is your first time, maybe we should just get morimoto omakase," Vlad suggested. He gently pushed her menu down so that he could look at it, and he pointed to the option. Harriet scanned the description. Essentially a dish with a little bit of everything.

"Ooo, that sounds good," Harriet mused.

"It's delicious, and it pairs well with white wine," Vlad told her. She smiled.

"Let's get that then," she agreed.

When the waiter came by, they ordered just that. Quickly, the waiter had come back to bring them the bottle of white wine, pouring them their first glass for them before leaving the bottle at Vlad's request. They each took a sip.

"Mmm, this is pretty good," Harriet spoke first. "I typically just get a red wine."

"I do too," Vlad replied. "But white wine goes well with fish." Harriet gave a surprised hum before taking another drink. "You probably know too much about me though. Tell me about your work. Amity News." She nodded.

"Yeah, I'm one of the main news anchors," she replied.

"Oh trust me, I know. I get to watch you tell me the news every day, it's a highlight of the day," Vlad complimented. Harriet rolled her eyes with a flush.

"Alright, cheesehead," she teased. "But yeah, I really love it. When I was younger I really enjoyed investigative journalism, since it let me go all over, but I'm really liking being in one place. Though I occasionally go out on the scene, but it's kinda dangerous to cover ghost fights here. And what we have Lance for."

Vlad snorted. He knew the news man too well. He was, as the kids called it, a meme at this point. He knew Daniel and his friends constantly posted these memes of Lance Thunder on social media, making fun of his on the scene appearances.

"What do you make of all these ghosts?" Vlad questioned. Harriet shrugged.

"Well, they certainly exist. Honestly thought Jack was stupid to try and build that one ghost portal in college. Even though. Ugh, Jack is such a buffoon sometimes," Harriet grumbled. "I still haven't forgiven him for costing me my job in Milwaukee, especially since I used him as a reliable source. Ugh!" She stopped herself to finish off her glass of wine. She exhaled deeply as she put the glass down, half-smiling apologetically. "Sorry. I know he's your friend."

"No, no no," Vlad replied eagerly. "I understand. After all, it was my home he destroyed, remember?" Harriet nodded.

"He had to have done thousands in damage," she said sympathetically. "Especially to your library. Oh, and it was a beautiful library too."

"It was one of my favorite rooms in that house," Vlad sighed. "I rebuilt the room, but it just wasn't ever quite the same. My new library, however, it's simply gorgeous."

"Oh?" Harriet questioned. Vlad took it as a sign to continue.

"It's a two story library, for once, like a true two story library. The lighting is fantastic, but also on a dimmer so the mood can be truly set," he began to describe. "I managed to slowly rebuild my collection of the classics, and there's a wood burning fireplace. Oh and of course, my favorite, the small reading nook with the most comfortable chair you will ever sit in next to a huge window. It's simply perfect."

"Oh, I would probably sit in that nook and read forever," Harriet sighed dreamily. Vlad smiled, picking up the bottle of wine with a raised eyebrow. Harriet picked her glass up, holding it for him to pour her some more. He did so, before refilling his own glass. She took another long sip of her drink.

"I would more often, but unfortunately, it's also the cat's favorite spot, and I can never bring myself to move her," he confessed. Harriet beamed.

"Vlad! You never told me you had a cat!" she exclaimed. "What's his name?" Vlad felt a cold sweat hit him. Wait.

"Maggie," he lied. "When I adopted her, that was what they called her, and it didn't feel right to change it." Harriet nodded understandingly. She set her glass of wine down to dig through her clutch, and she pulled her phone out.

"I have the most handsome little guy, his name's Taggy. Short for Maytag," she said. She showed Vlad her phone, exposing a picture of a grey and white cat stretched out in a cat hammock near a window. But that name...

"...Maytag? As in the company?"

Harriet flushed a bit.

"When I moved into my first apartment, his previous owners had left him, and so my old roommate and I began calling him Maytag after the refrigerator, since he came with the apartment, and we put food in him," she explained. "Then my roommate got married, and her husband's cats didn't get along with Taggy, so I just kept him, and he's moved six times with me since then." Vlad cracked a smile.

"Mad-ggie's name has kind of devolved into me just calling her Princess," he admitted. "I've bought so many luxury cat things for her and beds, the drinking fountain water bowl, wet food, the best vet in all of Illinois. Only the finest."

"I do the same for Taggy, much as I can afford. He's my special guy."

The waiter shyly interrupted them, bringing them each a huge plate of food. Harriet eyed hers hungrily, thanking him cheerfully.

"Oh, this does delicious," Harriet beamed. She took her chopsticks, and grabbed a bite. Vlad took another sip of wine before he did the same. "It tastes great too!"

"You think I'd steer you wrong?" Vlad lightly bragged.

"Who knows," Harriet shrugged. She gave a sly smirk. "You're the one who steered us all so wrong that you got the van stuck in a snowbank." Vlad glared at her, making her burst into snickers.

They ate in silence for a few moments, savoring their meal. Harriet took another long drink of her wine, and Vlad refilled it for her. She gave a smile.

"Thank you," she said. "Do you like your food?"

"Very much so, it's delicious," he replied. "How's yours?"

"Great, I never had such delicious food!" She ate another chopstick full of food. "I guess this is how five star dining is, huh? I made a good date investment. But next time I gotta take you to a diner."

"Oh?" Vlad raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I get the feeling that you eat too fancy," she explained. "Sometimes you just need the greasiest burger and saltiest fries that you wash down with cheap soda."

"Hmm, wouldn't you prefer I take you to a five star steakhouse?" he questioned.

"You can take me there on our third date," Harriet replied. Vlad raised his eyebrow again. "But for date too, I think you need a greasy burger."

"Third date?" he echoed. He took a drink of his wine, finishing it off.

"Yeah, I think you'll wanna take me out again," Harriet hummed. She reached for the wine to refill his glass for him.

"Thank you, dear. But really?"

"Absolutely, I'm a catch," she replied. "I've travelled the world, I'm very educated, financially stable, have my own house, am very pretty." She jokingly flipped her hair.

"Ah, I'd say you're more of a beauty than just very pretty," Vlad mused. Harriet smiled.

"Aww, thank you cheesehead," she replied. "But yes. So naturally, I think you're not going to be able to resist asking me to accompany you out again. I did you a favor by bidding on you, actually."

"We'll see how the night ends, and who's wanting a second date more," Vlad said. "I mean, yes you are quite a catch, but I think you're forgetting who was voted as sexiest billionaire by Cosmopolitan magazine." Harriet nearly choked on her wine from laughter.

"Oh my god, you read Cosmo?" she giggled. Vlad flushed red.

"N-no, I was told this," he insisted. "When I got voted as such." Harriet had to put her chopsticks down, covering her mouth as she tried to contain her laughter. Vlad slammed back the rest of his wine, refilling his own cup.

"Oh man, you really haven't changed all that much." She took a deep breath to get her laughter under control. "Same ol' cute Vlad." This peaked his interest.

"You thought I was cute?" he asked. Harriet flushed, picking her chopsticks back up to continue eating.

"Eh, kinda. In that nerdy sorta way," she confessed. "I tried getting your attention a few times, but you never seemed too interested. You were always really distracted by that portal project."

More like distracted by Maddie, as she was a huge reason why he was so interested in helping with the proto portal project. Remembering the woman of his dreams made him pause. He suddenly felt guilty that he was out on a date. And Maddie's college best friend of all people!

Of course, he had dated here and there. Maddie was, unfortunately, married, so he knew that rationally he had to somewhat try and move on. But nobody had ever truly clicked with him, or made him feel like she had. His mind was often distracted by her the entire time but...until now he had actually forgotten about Maddie.

"Ah yeah, I was...really focused on school," he half-lied, taking another bite of food.

"I could tell. Nerd," she jibbed. "Even now I can tell you're super busy with all your business stuff."

"Not as busy as you'd think, but also yes," Vlad corrected. "I have a lot of meetings to attend and business decisions to make, but I at least get a lot of help and feedback."

"That's true," Harriet said. "But I'm glad we're able to do something now. Even if we just never got around to it back then." She poked at one of her foods with her chopstick before taking the bite. "I mean, I've been kind of all over too. I don't think anything would have even worked out had we even tried something."

"Ah, yes. I remember Maddie mentioning that you were never in one place for more than two months for a long time," Vlad said.

"Yup!" she confirmed. "That's investigative journalism for ya. Takes you all over. But I really liked it. I'm glad I had that opportunity, and that I did it. Don't regret a bit of it."

"Business too," he agreed. "Especially when you're starting an empire. I don't think I was truly home for months at a time, I was going from place to place to oversee offices being built and products being made. Seeing how progress is being made on research. It was a busy first fifteen years or so. I don't think I was truly relaxing and enjoying what I'd made until the past six years or so."

"Yeah, I remember reading about your progress," she said. "Fascinating story. You had such amazing charisma to get all these companies to go with your plans." Vlad felt a bit of a nervous wave hit him, but he didn't show it, or really even have to reply. Harriet had already moved on. "Ugh, this was so good. I can't believe I was able to eat all of this."

Her plate was empty, and he had just taken his last bite.

"Would you like dessert?" he asked. She shook her head no.

"Nah, I'm good. I've eaten enough," she replied. Vlad just nodded, and he called their water over.

Instead of waiting to get a receipt book from the waiter, he simply handed him his credit card. Vlad never checked the bill when he went out to eat. The price tag never bothered him.

The waiter accepted it, soon coming back for Vlad to sign. Vlad quickly did, and for his trouble, he also handed the young man five hundred dollar bills as a tip. It made him nearly tear up and stutter as he thanked him, but quite honestly, it was more to show off to Harriet his generosity more than any genuine kindness, which, judging by her expression, absolutely worked.

Vlad gave him a half smile and waved him off, and the pair collected their things to leave, heading towards the front of the restaurant arm in arm.

"You know, the night's still young," Vlad mused. He opened the door for her, and Harriet slipped through.

"Thank you," she replied. "But oh? You don't have work?"

"Nothing that can't be rearranged," he replied. "Do you?" Harriet smiled.

"Nope, I have tomorrow off. So what are you thinking?" she asked. Vlad glanced at his watch. Hell, it was only ten-thirty.

"Have you ever been to the Amity Park Country Club?" he questioned. She nodded.

"Oh yeah. I've been there as a guest twice, for interviews," she explained. She glanced at her phone. "Doesn't it close soon though?" Vlad chuckled.

"On midnights on the weekends," he replied.

"Hmm, okay," Harriet agreed. "But we won't stay too long."

Vlad went up to the valet, informing him of his car make and model, and the young man nodded, jogging off to fetch it.

"My dear, I'm a high priority member. They'll stay open for me," he insisted. Harriet rolled her eyes.

"The workers wanna go home too, Vlad," she reminded him. "We should be respectful of their time and leave when it closes."

Vlad resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He was above having to follow those kinds of petty rules. When you had billions in the bank, you could easily just toss a few thousand out to make workers let you stay past the closing time with no issues. He had never heard a single complaint after he flashed a few thousand, a drop in the bucket for him. But what Harriet wanted, she would get. He supposed, anyway. After a few dates, she'd likely just begin agreeing with him and allow him to bend the rules for her.

After a few dates? Vlad thought on it. Yeah...after a few dates.

"Whatever you wish," he replied.

His car pulled up, and Vlad immediately opened the car door for her.

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

"And it just kind turned into a semi-permanent offer until I got kinda homesick," Harriet finished her story off as she hit another ball with the golf club. Vlad hummed lightly as her ball went off towards somewhere in the dark. "But it was amazing. I'd love to return to China sometime. Kinda unfortunately, Amity Park doesn't really cover international news like that. It's very local only."

"Maybe you should just come with me next time I go," Vlad offered. He grabbed another golf ball from their large bucket of them, setting it on the tee before lining himself up. With an experienced swing, he hit the ball, and it flew off. "To China, I mean. I go there about twice a year or so for business. Sometimes more."

"Ugh, that'd be awesome," Harriet agreed. She leaned over to pick up her drink, a pink margarita, that was resting on the tables that were set up near the driving range. Her jacket and clutch were on the table too, her heels tucked under the table. Vlad had also folded his suit jacket neatly to rest next to hers, allowing himself to also unbutton and roll his sleeves up to his elbows, and the top two buttons of his shirt. He also had his own drink, a rum and coke, that sat near hers. "I can show you all the local spots from my time there."

"Hm, that would be very nice," Vlad mused. He hit another ball. He was somewhat glad that Harriet had talked him out of doing the full course. While he didn't care (and Harriet very much did) that it would have taken far past closing time to finish a game, it was much more relaxing to just do this. Especially with nobody else being around. "I typically do only business."

"Oh boo, that's boring," Harriet said. She already had another ball on her tee, and she wacked it again. The ball went soaring. "What's the point of all your money if you're not enjoying yourself and your life?"

Vlad didn't reply. He focused on another swing. The ball stayed close to the ground, quickly rolling on and on and on before he couldn't see where it went anymore.

"You were married before, weren't you?" Vlad questioned. Harriet snorted.

"Oh, we're already at the 'let's talk about our exes' part of the relationship?" she teased. Vlad chuckled, grabbing another ball. "Eh, for about seven years. Nothing bad happened, we just realized that we weren't really as compatible as we thought. I enjoyed traveling the world and being out, and he was a big homebody that hated planes and trains. Started to realize that I wanted a family one day, he preferred it to be just us. We didn't see each other that much cause I would go cover stories all over, and it just felt like we'd be happier. So we just kind of had a mutual divorce."

"I can understand that," Vlad replied. He lightly tapped his ball twice before swinging the club as hard as he could. The ball straight up disappeared in a blink of an eye.

"So what's your excuse for never having a girlfriend before?" Harriet questioned. Vlad was grateful about the lighting, as he knew that his face was dark red. "Too busy with work, too nerdy, what?"

"I've had a girlfriend before!" he argued. "I've dated women plenty before. Don't you remember Stacy?"

"Nope," Harriet replied. She hit another ball.

"Yes you do!" he insisted. He took a break from swinging, leaning on his club. "I was with her for four years! Out of all the women I dated she was the one the papers and articles talked about the most. Don't you remember all the rumors swirling around about why we hadn't gotten married already?"

"Hmm, must have been a figment of your imagination," Harriet replied, and he exhaled dramatically. He finally noticed the shit-eatting grin, and that she was just pulling his leg. She giggled, grabbing another golf ball. She tossed it up into the air, catching it before putting it on the tee. "Okay, okay. So why didn't you?"

"Why didn't I what?" Vlad questioned. He took a step towards their table, grabbing his drink. He needed it right about now.

"Marry Stacy," Harriet clarified.

"Eh, it just wasn't really meant to be," he dismissed simply. He took a long gulp of his drink, sighing softly when he finished.

"Oh?" Harriet pressed. He frowned. He should have known that she was going to be nosy about it. Typical journalist.

"...I could tell that we didn't really like each other all that much," he confessed. "We were just both lonely. We would go places together but never actually be together. We lived together but never saw each other outside of bedtime, though towards the end, she began to just sleep in a separate room since our schedules would be so different. We talked about getting married on and off, but...I don't know when it clicked for me that this just wasn't what I truly wanted. I wanted a wife and children that I spent time with and that I loved being with. So we just kind of broke up, and she moved out."

Harriet nodded understandingly.

"At least you realized it before children potentially got involved," she said. "I'm glad I divorced with no children. I'd hate to put them through something like that."

"Agreed," Vlad replied. He picked up another golf ball. Instead of bending over to put it on the ground, he lazily dropped it and hit the ball on the bounce. "How many would you want?"

"Hm? What? Kids?" Harriet questioned. Vlad gave a 'mhm' noise to confirm. "At least two. A boy and a girl. What about you?"

"As many as possible," he said. He got another ball. "I always wanted a big family."

"Hmm, well I'm not a clown car," Harriet replied. "Regardless of how often I'd let a clown like you in." Vlad rolled his eyes. "Besides, you have Jasmine and Danny right? Maddie and Jack's kids?"

"Yeah, they're my godchildren," Vlad confirmed. He reached over for another quick sip of his drink. "I bought Jasmine her car. When Daniel gets his license I'll be getting him one too. And of course, paying for college. I have a few other godchildren too, same deal. I've gotten them all a car and paid for college. Can't let them have any of that dreadful student loan debt."

"Aw, you're just a big ol' softie," Harriet teased. "I'm not a billionaire, so I can't really do the same, but I'm pitching in to help my sister get my niece a decent used car next year. By the time her little brother's getting a car, I'll likely be doing the same."

"You're looking for cars for her?" Vlad mused. "I can get her one." Harriet shook her head.

"No, that's not necessary," she replied. "It's a lot to ask."

"Nonsense, I have the money to spare," he persisted. "A decent used car. Children don't need brand new ones, they're still learning." Harriet bit her lower lip as she pondered the offer.

"We'll discuss it another time with my sister," she said. Vlad nodded in agreement. He grabbed a ball. Their bucket was nearly empty now.

"I understand," he replied. Harriet picked up one of the last balls. She tossed it up in the air and swung her bat. She missed, but she quickly was able to redeem herself by hitting it on the third bounce. "I just hate to see children go without. That's why I was auctioned off, afterall. For the sake of the kids." Harriet gave a skeptical hum, getting another ball. "...Well, you know, if we're going to go out again, I need to make a good first impression on your family."

"That's better," Harriet replied. "If we're going to hang out more like this, we need to be open and honest with each other."

Vlad picked up the last ball. He stared at it for a moment, and he put it on Harriet's tee for her. She shot him a thankful smile, and she wacked the ball into the night.

"There'll be more, right?" Vlad asked.

"Well, if you're free next Friday, we can go see a show," Harriet suggested. She went back to the table, slipping into her heels again. She downed the last bit of her drink. "Local theater's opening weekend is soon."

Next weekend was terrible. Vlad had so much to do that following week that he'd have to spend all weekend preparing for. Many meetings, lots of documents to read and write and revise. Moving anything around would be an absolute headache.

But it could be moved around.

"Sounds lovely," he agreed. He finished off his drink before rolling his sleeves down again. He slipped his jacket back on. "Ready to head home?"

"We have to take the cups and clubs back up to the office," she said, nodding at the country club. Vlad made a face, and he began to protest, but a Look from Harriet made him shut up.

"Alright, alright," he sighed. Harriet grabbed their cups, and he took their clubs.

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

"Next Friday, right?" Harriet asked as they took the final step up onto her porch.

"Yes, I'll call you tomorrow to organize a proper time," Vlad told her. He paused as he suddenly remembered. "One second."

He did a half-jog back to his car, opening the backseat and pulling out a basket. As he returned to the door, it became clear as to what it was. It was the camera bundle she had been bid on at the auction, and she stared at it.

"Here, I had noticed you bid on it. I wanted to make sure you got it," he explained, handing it out to her.

"You bought that?" she questioned.

"Yes, I knew that you'd be outbid. So I just made sure that you could get it," he replied. Harriet smiled warmly, accepting it.

"Thank you," she said. She set it on one of the porch chairs for now. "This was honestly such a great night. Gotta admit, I was kinda skeptical, but you really impressed me."

"Of course, didn't you say yourself that you made a good investment," he joked. Harriet snickered.

"Yeah, but I think even I surprised myself," she said. "I thought I was just going to buy a nice, fancy one dinner, but I'm pretty sure I actually did buy somebody that I'm going to be introducing to my mom." She gestured to her front door. "Did you wanna come inside for a bit? Pretty sure you're too tired to make the long drive home."

"I don't live too far," Vlad replied. "It's about twenty minutes, I can easily get home."

"Oh?" Harriet lightly pressed. "You sure you're not too tired though? Don't need a coffee or anything? Or want to take a nap before you go?"

It finally clicked.

"Ah, you know, I think I would like to rest a bit before I go," he agreed. Harriet smiled, turning to unlock her door. Vlad grabbed the camera basket for her, and they went inside.

[diavolodigitale]

The Hitchhiker’s Guide to Andromeda Galaxy - pt.2 Kadara

I must admit, editing this 2 years after writing is a real pain in the you-know-what. It almost doesn’t seem worth saving anymore, but I am determined to finish this. The last 2 chapters are kind of fun after all.

Genres: comedy, romance (vaguely), friendship maybe, nothing serious, really.

Pairing: m!Ryder/Evfra 

Characters: Ryder, Evfra, Reyes

Rating: PG

Size: around 6 pages

Pt.1 - Pt.2 - Pt.3 - Pt.4 ----- All chapters in PDF

Kadara port had everything a weary traveller could ever wish for: water for when you were thirsty, food for when you were hungry, protection for when you were in fear for your life, and for when you were thoughtless - a knife to stab you in the back. From time to time even James needed some of its special offers, but not as radical as what most of the mercs coming here were looking for. The job of the Pathfinder was dangerous and, sadly, unrewarding, so he developed a habit of coming to the port to give some rest to his fagged body and worn-out mind. People there openly disliked him which gave him the perfect opportunity to behave however he wanted without thinking much about the role forced onto him.

Ryder enjoyed observing dozens of different people visiting the port every day. Sometimes he would even become the witness of some utterly disgusting and dishonest affairs which had, to put it mildly, not the best outcome for one of the sides of the conflict. Nevertheless, he learnt his lesson about not trying to help every single person on Kadara very well literally on the day of his first visit. As such, those situations turned into mere inconveniences he had to steer clear of while staying there. Helping his race survive was at the moment more important than dealing with exiles and the problems they caused. Priorities first.

What he liked even more than observing people, was talking to his crew members in a kind of informal atmosphere. No doubt, the air that prevailed on the Tempest was mostly friendly and peaceful, but work is work no matter what they say. Here, on Kadara, on the other hand, every one of them would find something more enjoyable to occupy themselves with in their free time so the general mood shifted from busy to more casual. Whatever they were doing – drinking in the bar, trying to persuade the merchant to give a discount, or checking the incoming supplies for the ship – it was still interesting for him to see them act in situ.

Having no plans in particular for the evening, Ryder was strolling in the direction of the local bar when he noticed a familiar silhouette. A renowned angaran commando stood near a bunch of crates piled up in a secluded alley. Quite far from any vendor or stall, as Ryder noticed. It was already enough to get him interested.

He cautiously approached Evfra from behind just to startle him with a loud “greeting” of his.

“Is it really you who I see here? Or is it just a black-market VI? I would really be astonished if technologies went so far,” he yelled cheerfully.

“Is it a rhetorical question?” Evfra turned his head and gave Ryder a tired spiritless look.

“I hope something happened,” responded Ryder and pouted, “‘cause if you’re so dull only because I’m here, I will be deeply offended.”

“Fascinating.”

Evfra watched a few strangers pass by the alley they were in and clicked his tongue disappointedly. Clear as day, he was looking for something or someone.

“So, what is the leader of the angaran Resistance doing here all alone? Such a famous figure should be an object of desire for local bounty hunters,” said Ryder. His curiosity always got the best of him.

“Same goes to you, Pathfinder.”

“I guess, more people want me to actually do something to improve the quality of life in the galaxy than just to die in the slums. And you haven’t answered my question,” noted Ryder, unsatisfied with the reply he got.

“It may be hard to believe but lots of people here have heard stories about me. Despite that, hardly anybody knows what I really look like. It is very useful when you hold such a position. Of course,”—Evfra sighed before continuing—“if you do not have a Pathfinder nearby, who will yell that it is indeed you and not somebody else.”  

“Don’t worry, my lips are sealed.” Ryder propped up one of the nearby crates and pretended to zip up his mouth.

“I would really like to see that.” Evfra sighed yet again.

“That’s just an idiom that–”

“I know. Jaal told me about this strange phenomenon of yours. Seems like everything about humans is as confusing as it is annoying.”

“It won’t be so confusing when you get to know us better.”

“If I get to know you.”

“Believe me, I will do everything for this alliance to work out,” declared Ryder. He sounded completely confident in what he was saying. “I am always ready to help and even make some necessary sacrifices for the sake of our union.”

“Spare me the details, please.”

Evfra looked around one more time. His search wasn’t successful which was obvious from a disgruntled look on his face. Ryder noticed that, and his interest towards the goal of Evfra’s pursuit on Kadara grew even more.

“So, what could be so important that it managed to make you come here personally?”

“Resistance’s matters.”

“That I have already figured out,”—Ryder raised his eyebrow and crossed his arms—“I mean, why you? As far as I know, you have countless field agents that could take up this business on your behalf.”

Understanding the Pathfinder wouldn’t be shaken off so easily, Evfra decided to give up without even starting an argument. He wanted this conversation to end as soon as possible.

“I am looking for my informant. He hasn’t contacted me for a few days, although I’ve been waiting. And I loathe waiting,” he responded.

“And for that you spared the time to come personally? I’m impressed.”

“Do you trust everybody on your team, Ryder? Do you trust everybody on the Nexus?” asked Evfra, staring at Ryder intently. There was no point in continuing this conversation, but he just couldn’t hold himself back.

“That’s the question not to be answered in front of the people I work with,” chuckled Ryder.

“Then you know why I’m here. If you want to do something, do it yourself. In this case, you will have no one to blame if something goes wrong or the desired result is not achieved.”

“I can understand that.” The Pathfinder nodded slightly and went on, "I think, you’re a real professional, you know?”

Evfra gave Ryder a gloomy glance and left the question unanswered. He was not entertained by this talk the way Ryder was. He probably never had been.

“Is it Reyes you’re looking for?” asked Ryder bluntly.

“Are you going to expose identities of all people working for the Resistance?”

Evfra did not even sound mad anymore. Just tired.

“If nobody here knows who you are, then there’s no harm in mentioning that you’re looking for him. Lots of people on Kadara work with him as well, so saying his name out loud isn’t really that much of a deal.”

“Your thoughtlessness is going to get you killed some day.”

“Not while you’re around to take care of my safety.”

No reaction followed, so all Ryder could do after such a remark was stand silently and awkwardly scratch his neck. There was still nothing special he wanted to do in the port besides just sticking around for some time, so he figured he’d stay here and see where the situation would get him, but the atmosphere was killing him.

“Reyes seems to like you,” said Evfra after a few minutes of silence.

“He does?”

“Yes, even though I cannot see why.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” said Ryder and forced a little smile that looked sincere enough. He knew that arguing with Evfra would never lead him anywhere. “So, do you mean he likes me as a person or…?”

“I do not possess such knowledge. We don’t discuss personal matters.”

“Oh, I see. Then how do you know he likes me?”

Evfra exhaled loudly and sat down on one of the crates, perhaps, tired of standing on the same place for what could be hours.

“He speaks highly of you. It seems that he admires your methods and purposes, although it is hard to tell, since you, humans, are so bad at expressing your true feelings.”

“Guess we have something to learn from your kind.”

“You have a lot to learn from us,” corrected him Evfra. “First of all, how to read the attitude and recognize when it is better to stop the communication.”

“I’ll take that into consideration, but don’t promise anything.”

Ryder considered something for a few moments before deciding to be bold till the end and taking a seat near Evfra. There was high chance the angara would stand up, not wanting to be near him after the last incident, but Ryder really hoped he would just leave it be.

Evfra looked at the Pathfinder with dissatisfaction, but said nothing.

“How’s your arm?” asked Ryder, relieved by his reaction.

“Healed.”

“Good to hear that.”

“Do you want to ask me how my head is?”

“As good as mine, I’m sure,” answered James, but still threw a quick glance at Evfra’s forehead to make sure he was fine.

“It was foolish of you to perform such an act. My bones could have been much stronger than yours, and then your people would have lost another Pathfinder,” muttered Evfra between his teeth.

Evfra’s words made something about Ryder change. For a few moments, he wasn’t so upbeat anymore – just an ordinary exhausted and disappointed in life individual on Kadara.

Evfra mused over the idea of saying he was sorry, but the situation seemed so weird to him, that he decided not to.

A familiar voice of someone speaking with a charming accent rang out not far from Evfra and Ryder’s location.

“Well, isn’t that the great Evfra himself?”

“Reyes!”—Evfra stood up abruptly and took a few steps towards the tan-skinned man—“I’ve been waiting to hear from you for days and you didn’t send me a word. Don’t make me come here once again or else I may find someone more responsible to take your place.”

Ryder tried to recall when he last saw him this angry but failed.

“Did you come all the way just to see me?”—Reyes made an ironic bow—“I am pleased and honored. If I may ask, did Pathfinder Ryder also come here looking for me?”

“Not this time, Reyes, but it is good to see you alive and well,” said Ryder and nodded with a hint of a polite smile on his face.

“What a shame. I was already intrigued by the possibilities of our prospective cooperation.”

“Pathfinder Ryder will be the only one available to you for cooperation if you do not explain yourself right now,” said Evfra almost growling.

He was visibly unhappy with how the conversations developed. Ryder got the feeling he’d better return back to the Tempest and leave those two to discuss their business in privacy. He stood up, displaying his intention to withdraw from this soon-to-be battlefield.

“I see you need some time to catch up. I also have some business to take care of while I’m in the port, so I’ll probably get going.”

“Leaving already?” A slight disappointment could be heard in Reyes’ voice as he spoke. “I thought maybe we could grab a drink or two after Evfra and I… resolve our issue.”

“Enough!” shouted Evfra, raising his voice like he rarely did. His chest was heaving with suppressed rage. Ryder thought he was most likely really angry with Reyes’ careless and provoking manner. Or anything else. From James��� experience, it really didn’t take Evfra long to find a reason to be angry about.

“Maybe next time. It was nice seeing you, Evfra. And you, Reyes, as well,” he declined, not wanting to provoke the angaran commando any further.

“Likewise, Pathfinder. I sincerely hope to see you here again in the nearest future,” responded Reyes and gave him a wink.

Ryder lightly nodded and gave another polite smile. Evfra only sniffed and abruptly turned away, facing the other direction when Ryder was leaving. Once more, not bidding farewell properly.

[c-is-for-circinate]

“What the Fuck is Up with the Elves” (or, more worldbuilding for C’s D&D game)

So the thing is, I call myself an ecologist, and I am, really, or at least I’ve been working as one when I’m not working as a general all-math-and-science teacher for the past ten years.  But that’s not, quite, technically, what my degrees are in.  Technically, as per my master’s thesis, I’m an evolutionary biologist.

Which means that when I run a D&D game?  We start from a place of hominid evolution.

Gnomes and dwarves evolved on the continent of Nokomoris, where most of our game takes place.  Some 50,000 years ago, humans came up out of the neighboring continent (which has a dozen different names, but we can call it Kekiris, that’s as accurate as any) and joined them, and together the three races learned to master fire and metalwork and gods and demons and the four Great Schools and the two Minor Schools of arcane magic (for those were the days before the elves, before the discovery of abjuration, when it was thought that only the gods could conjure and transmutation was limited to minor tricks and divine crafts).

Elves, and their cousins the orcs (though no elf alive today would admit that they are cousins in truth, and the orcs themselves have all but forgotten it) evolved side by side on the continent of Priyl, a fifteenth the size of Nokomoris and isolated in the middle of the ocean, beset by storms and reefs on all sides.

Well.  The elves of the Ascendancy call it Priyl, and so does everybody else, these days, in respect to them.  The orcs and half-orcs remember that it was Getirka, and still is to those of their brethren still living there.  The people of Nokomoris have all but forgotten the days when they called it Thidoris, when it was nothing more than a myth.

(There are other continents, beyond those three, of course--but time enough for that later.  Nobody on Nokomoris remembers the continent of Calladia these days, and that might be for the best, for now.  But we’re getting ahead of ourselves.)

Six and a half thousand years ago, the continent of Priyl, called Getirka by the orcs and Thidoris by the gnomes and humans and dwarves, disappeared from the ocean.  Five hundred and twelve years it appeared again.  And that was enough to change the world.

.

Priyl, then, because we’re talking about elves.  Priyl is such a small continent, really, surrounded by such very storm-like oceans, full of so much desert and so many mountains and so very, very many things with sharp teeth and venom spines.  The spiders and snakes can kill a beast a thousand times their size.  The fish on the reef around the continent, who look like stone or coral or sand or squirming tentacle-beasts, have spines and teeth with venom that can kill ten times faster than that.

Half of Priyl is worn thin between planes, or at least it was so many hundreds of thousands of years ago, when lithe thin agile elf-ancestors took to the trees and the mountains to run from their fierce unstoppable orc cousins.  They were barely more than beasts themselves, either of them.  The elves were perhaps a little more clever, but perhaps they were only quicker, lighter, lither in the branches of trees.  The orcs were more determined.  They invented fire first.

Fire doesn’t mix well with trees, particularly not in the long dry drought of a Priylan summer, and the elves died, and died--and survived, some of them, always.  Through trickery and luck, some elves always survived.

And the fey noticed.

There are a thousand different ways planes can brush up against each other; a million years later, in the present day of 512 HA, the scholars of Nokomoris will have names and categories for half a dozen.  One of those is what they call a seep--a place as small as a few square yards, as huge as a dozen square miles, where two planes wear as thin as over-used linen cheesecloth next to each other, and ooze one into the other in bits and pieces and fragments of magic over years.

It’s not meant to be possible, for an entire continent to be a seep, but many things that are not meant to be possible are nonetheless true.  Priyl was thin before the elves and orcs even came to be there.  Fey roamed the lands, called them home, before they ever took forms with two legs and two arms and a face that could speak a language of people.  They noticed the thin little cousins-of-orcs fleeing through the trees, and they saw the invention of fire and the forests that burned, and a few of them decided--well.  There’s a game worth playing.

Half a million years ago, the fey taught the first True Elves about magic.  Nothing has ever been the same since.

.

Fifteen thousand years ago, when dwarves and humans and gnomes were only just learning to turn stone tools into plowshares and turn goats and sheep and aurochs into tame animals, the elves of Priyl had cities that stretched halfway to the sky.

They made war, of course, of course they did.  They waged it against each other, because nothing else was worthy of their conquest.  Ten generations of orcs could live and breed and die before an elf could even count themself arrived at adulthood.  The world beyond Priyl was strange and distant, far beyond notice or care.  The vast universe of the planes, and beyond--that drew the elven attention far more than anything on the world of Onde.

There were in those days two kinds of elves, or perhaps three, or perhaps a thousand.  In fact, perhaps the easiest way to divide the elves of that time is by how many sorts of elves they themselves believed existed.  In that case it was the three-sort elves who were correct, which makes their fate even more dark irony in the end.

They were the Day Elves, the Night Elves, and the True Million; High Elves and Bad Elves and those fuckers in the woods, I guess.  They were, according to a third of their number, the elves of Sun, Moon, and Twilight; and this is how the self-styled Moon Elves would explain the difference:

During the day, with the sun bright and desperate overhead, it is easy to believe that light and dark are opposites, the only two options.  It is easy to believe in sun and darkness and no other in-between.  It is easy to believe in Your Own and then also The Rest Of Them.  It is easy to believe in your own power.  And so the day elves, the sun elves, as silver and gold as though no other color existed in the universe, studied the foundations of their own powers and ignored all else.  They were wizards and full of magic, and they built the cities that towered to the sun, and they wrote the laws and warred each other, and they gave polite nods to the fey if they passed but they did not bow to them, for they accepted only the opposing ideas of Subservience and Mastery, and they refused to be servants.

At dawn and dusk, with all the shadows grown long and small lights flickering from every direction, it is easy to confuse lies and honesty everywhere, to lose sight of any firm reality.  It is easy to believe that nothing is quite real in the first place and anything is as good as anything else.  It is easy to believe in tricks and riddles, and to toss aside that belief a moment later, to cling to nothing but artifice and bargains and boundaries on trust.  The twilight elves, the wood elves, red and green and brown and gold and silver and white and black and gray, ran with the fey who’d once taught and married their ancient ancestors.  They were warlocks and full of trickery and half-truth, and they studied math and logic and ventured from city to city slipping in between the bounds set by the daylight elves as though they had not spotted them in the dark.  They wrote contracts and twisted reality around themselves, for they believed in everything and nothing, just like their masters, and could not see far enough to grasp the reality of anything.

At night, in clear moonlight, it is easy to see the truth: there is light, and there is dark, and there is everything in between.  There may be master and servant, and that may be firm and unchangeable, no matter how the shadows hide it--but for every servant on his knees in the dirt, there is always one more, lower still than them.  Every master lording over her servant has yet another master.

So it was that the moon elves discovered the gods.  Priyl was not a good land for gods, with the blurring of its boundaries, its fade between reality and not.  They did not often feel welcome there.  Still, in the middle of the night, with one or two or all three moons full and bright overhead, they could find their way down.  Even the fey had to be overmastered by someone.

There were three gods that the Elves of Night found, as they searched and studied and prayed, there in the moonlit dark on the continent of Priyl, where the smallest creatures were full of venom and might.  They found the queen of spiders, and the king of serpents, and the prince of fish and tentacles and uncharted depths.  The elves of the moon went to their knees and prayed.

.

In those days the elves had boats, of course.  They had not quite mastered the art of teleportation that would join their cities in the future, and they did not most of them quite care about the world beyond the boundaries of their reefs, but curiosity has always been an elven trait.  The moon-elven worshippers of the god of the sea, and the twilight adventurers whose fae patrons implored them to spread chaos and wonder, they learned to sail and venture forth.  They mapped the world of Onde while the humans and gnomes and dwarves of Nokomoris were still just learning to put stylus to clay and charcoal to tanned leather, while the humans of someday-Calladia were singing their sky-song and building empires of ritual and sound.

(Orcs invented boats first.  Orcs have been on Nokomoris for tens of thousands of years, coming few by few, interbreeding with humans until barely any sign of them was left to meet the next ship to arrive.  Few enough of them ever made it back over the reefs to return to Getirka, even before the High Elves Ascendant erected the Stormwall.  But we’re getting ahead of ourselves again.)

.

Here is the thing that every elf known on Nokomoris today will say, to anyone who asks them, about their history: 6,703 years ago, by the calendar reckoning of humans, gnomes, and dwarves, the Elven Ascendancy rose to shepherd all of the elves of Priyl, and closed the continent away from all the world to protect--

And that’s where the story will pause, because what protection could the elves ever have needed from the rest of the world?  The elves appeared in Nokomoris five hundred years, and shook the world on its foundations.  Every kingdom on Onde was tumbled before their power.

‘To protect you all from us,’ so many elves would say.  They would be correct, of course, and altogether wrong, all at once.

.

Spiders are not evil.  Neither are serpents, or stonefish, or krakens.  Neither are the gods of them.

They shed their skins, though, all at once or piece by piece.  And sometimes they demand the world do the same.  Sometimes they demanded apocalypse and rebirth.  It wasn’t such a very far stretch, really, after all.

The dark elves of black and white and gray believed in nuance as an article of faith.  They also believed in duty, and truth, and fortitude across an ever-changing night.  They believed in a lot of things.  That was, a little bit, the point.

It took a thousand years of war for the cities of Sun Elves to come together to agree, at the very last, that even should it take all their power they must see the Night Elves driven entire from the continent of Priyl.  They must see it done, and they would unite themselves to do it.  It took another century of war first, with all the united might of the Elven Cities bent against the god-worshippers, the moonlight elves with their huge pale eyes and their unglowing skin.  It could be their only salvation, before the gods of venom and rebirth called for the destruction of everything they loved and knew.

And so it was, 6,602 years ago, that all of the very most powerful wizards of the Elves of Day, the Sun Elves, high and ascendant and triumphant, joined their power as one to join nature and force and illusion all bound together in one great wall.  The Stormwall, sixteen thousand miles long, encircling all of Priyl in its arms.

(Did the Wild Elves, the twilight elves, the forest warlocks, did they help?  Oh yes, my friend.  Oh yes, of course they did, for the Sun Elves--they only ever saw two sides, don’t you remember?  Two sides, dark and light, and the twilight elves trapped on the in-between--well.  They always did know how to deal oh-so-very carefully with a master that little bit stronger than them.  So the wild elves helped, and the Stormwall--the Stormwall worked perfectly, to keep anyone outside of Priyl from venturing in.)

6,703 years ago, the Empyrean Ascendant became the very first sovereign on the seat of the Elven Ascendancy.  6,600 years ago, the elves of Priyl found peace.  More or less.

.

And what became of the moon elves, the night elves, the elves of the dark?  What became of them, and their spider-queen, serpent-king, fish-prince?

They went to Calladia, of course--though it was called Thiel then, once upon a time.  They went to Thiel-that-would-be-Callida, and Thiel found itself unmade.

There is a great deal to say of old mythical Thiel, and the lands it became and then unbecame again, and again, and again, cycling once and twice and more and more over the thousands of years between now and then.  There is a great deal to say, and some of it is about the elves that live there, and some of it is about the humans they found when they arrived, and some of it is about the changelings that sprung up between them, faceless shapeshifters learning to live just as everyone else.  Right now, in the year 512 HA, five centuries after the fall of the Storm Wall, the continent is nothing but a thousand-island archipelago.  It remembers, barely, that it was Callida nine centuries ago, and had merchant ships and commerce to the east and west, with Nokomoris and Kekiris and beyond.  It remembers being shattered to pieces in hopes of rebirth.  It does not remember that it ever was Thiel, not in the deepest dimmest history, save in the oldest of records.

There is a great deal to say, but what I will tell you now is this: the fish around the continent that once was Thiel do not sting with venom spines that kill in the space of a breath, and the tentacle-armed creatures that swim their bays are small and soft and cannot kill at all.  There is very little for the Prince of Depths to do here, little space for him to make himself known.

There are frogs here, instead.  They do not bite except ants and flies, but they glow bright, red and yellow and violet and blue.  They poison nobody except the unwary hunter who does not leave them as they sit.  (The unwary hunter, they will kill.  The wary hunter learns to use them, instead.)

They change, from fish-spawn to frog-grandmother, to eggs, to spawn again.  It’s easier to believe in the Frog Daughter (who is also the mother of all, wide-mouth frog devourer of all) than any unfamiliar lord of depths and venom.

The Frog Daughter is, perhaps, a kinder god than her predecessor-brother.  There’s some kindness in all three of the dark elves’ gods, if you know where to look.  They’re all three of them gods of transformation, and that can always be a kindness, for some.

.

And what of Priyl, then, in their absence?

The Ascendancy has held strong for six thousand years and nearly another thousand after that.  Eleven elves Ascendant, after the Empyrean, each of them chosen and sworn to the good of all before more than two centuries of life have passed them by, each of them sworn to rule for a thousand years if they can.  Each of them have made that oath, and under them the Ascendancy has flourished.

Throughout Priyl, throughout its mountains, there are the Cities of the Ascendancy, and each city is vast and towering, halfway up to the skies, and each city is within itself world and shining garden.  Each city is full of sparkling crystalline fountains and waterfalls, parks and fresh water to drink, home to a thousand sparkling silver fishes that are art and food and life all at once.  Vines climb up the dazzling towers from terrace to terrace and grow fruit and berries and grain.  Shimmering pigeons of red and purple iridescence bred for perfect accent color beauty soar between golden bridges and balustrades, and lay their eggs, and nobody in an elven city ever goes hungry.

(And what became of the twilight elves, then, when the sun elves rose up on high and claimed their world?  They retreated to shadow and stayed in the in-between, of course, just as they always have.  Their feytrap labyrinths deep in the mountains and deserts and woods of Priyl are sprawling and inescapable temples to artifice and knowledge and math, and their acolytes strike deals and take powers from their Lady Whispered and Lord Gloaming, and their children grow in the shining towers of the cities of the ascendancy and pay their dues to the elves on high.  The warlock elves, the fae-friends, the elves of the woods, they have always understood the needs of survival.  They remember the dark elves.  They remember the price of loss.  Even if the high elves themselves won’t.)

And so it was for six thousand years, until the Halcyon Ascendant rose to power, five hundred and twelve years ago.  And the Halcyon Ascendant, who was wizard and diviner, who was young and brave and as wise as she was clever, who looked into the world and saw the future--

the Halcyon Ascendant said, it is time to lower the Stormwall and venture forth to know the world.

.

Nobody knows, exactly, why the Halcyon Ascendant gave such an order.  Few elves know exactly what it cost to fulfill it.  Fewer still would ever admit it.

What is known, by everybody on Nokomoris, is this: the elves appeared on their great silver ships out of nowhere at all, five hundred years ago, and changed everything in the world.  Cities and nations rose and fell.  The elves knew magic nobody had ever heard of before.

The elves brought transmutation and conjuration and abjuration that could be studied and learned from books instead of summoned from gods and the incomprehensible overwhelming power of nature.  They brought potions and alchemy and science.  The elves brought to Nokomoris the very first teleportation circles (and Nokomoris as it is now, with the Nine Cities and their reign, could not exist without teleportation circles.)

Today, the elves live in every major city on the continent.  They live west of the mountains of the Western Wall, and in cities on the continent of Kekiris.  Always in sweeping, curving, tall shining towers, in their own elven enclaves, part of every city but not beholden to it.  Always full of wonders to sell, perhaps, if their leaders in the Ascendancy deem it proper; always rich with the wealth of their nation, which is free to all elves, and nobody else.

There are elven advisors and elven investors and elven ambassadors.  There are elven students in the universities, and professors there, as well.  There are no elven kings or governors or lords, of course there aren’t--no elf could truly be a citizen of Nokomoris, not honorably.  Every elf born is a subject of the Ascendancy. 

.

And finally, here is what the orcs know of elves.  The orcish story is their own, and long and varied and rich, the orcs of Getirka-called-Priyl and the orcs of New Gettik on Nokomoris, and it is also long, full of diaspora and resilience and art and culture and many, many thousands of generations of twins.  It is another post for another time.

But what the orcs know of elves, for they do come from the very same land, from its opposite sides, is: there are whole universes beyond what the elves consider worthy of their attention.  It’s true that no ship or desperate swimmer arrived on the continent of Getirka or Priyl for all the six thousand years that the Stormwall soared.  It is not true that no ship ever left.

The orcs say it, and the orcs know.  The orcs of New Gettik and Clure, here on Nokomoris, know it especially.  They were here before the elves arrived.  Even the rest of Nokomoris realizes that.

Every gnome, dwarf, and human on Nokomoris knows that all elves everywhere in the world belong to the Ascendancy.  Every orc knows that there are worlds below the elves’ notice, that they forget about conveniently, that they pretend not to see.  Some orcs may think to wonder whether they’ve forgotten about other elves, too.

[ollieofthebeholder]

leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall): a TMA fanfic

[1] [2] [3] [4]  Also on AO3

Chapter 5: Tim

Tim wonders where the hell everybody is. Jon’s not in his office, which is…unusual, to say the least, since they usually have to pry him out of it with a crowbar at the end of the day, and lately he’s been acting like lunch breaks are something that happen to other people. On the other hand, he might be poking around the Archives looking for more out-of-place statements to sneer at. Martin isn’t at his desk, either, unless he is and Tim just can’t see him; sometimes he swears Martin’s part chameleon, like he doesn’t exactly go invisible but can just fade into the background and not be seen. At least Tim knows for a fact that Sasha is off getting lunch, because she actually told him where she was going.

“If this is a game of ‘Let’s Make Tim Think the Archives Are Cursed’, I think the Archives themselves won that game several weeks ago, so give it up, guys,” he says to the room at large. The room, thankfully, does not answer him.

Walking around aimlessly, looking for his colleagues, Tim appreciates for the first time why Martin is so jumpy lately. This is, not to put too fine a point on it, creepy. Wandering through rows upon rows of files containing the stories of scary encounters and eerie presentiments and the like, no sound but his own muffled footsteps, and he swears he can hear a faint susurration from the shelves, like they’re whispering to him. Or like something is…crawling on the papers, rustling them ever so lightly. Makes his skin crawl and his fingers itch for the comforting weight of a fire extinguisher.

And it’s the middle of the day! It’s barely lunchtime and the lights are up and the window slits near the ceiling that let in enough daylight to help visibility but not enough UV light to damage the paperwork (honestly, it’s a shockingly well-designed and well-thought out archive for how old it is) are at full glow. And it’s still creepy as hell. It has to be worse after dark, when there’s for sure nobody here. The fact that Martin hasn’t run screaming from the Institute or had a complete nervous breakdown honestly has Tim feeling a surge of newfound respect for him, and for his courage—or at least his sheer bloody-minded stubbornness. There’s a fine line between the two and Tim rather suspects Martin uses it as a skipping rope.

“Hello?” he calls out, and then instantly curses himself. For God’s sake, he’s read the statements! He’s seen plenty of horror films, too, and then there’s…well, his own experience, which he’d rather not think about, thank you very much. Anyway, he knows damn well that nothing good ever happens after the person wandering alone through the spooky whatever calls out “hello” into the empty nothingness. Ominous music tapers off, split second of utter silence, sudden surge of discordant musical sting, cut to black, and the next day someone stumbles on his desiccated corpse.

There’s a clatter from the next aisle and it almost has Tim running for the hills, but he pokes his head around the shelf and relaxes. “Oh, hey, Marto. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Tim! Christ, I—shit, sorry.” Martin is clutching a sheaf of papers in one hand and steadying the shelf with the other and looks flustered.

“You know, you’ve really got to stop apologizing when someone else spills soup on your lap.” Tim has no idea if Martin’s going to get that reference. He doesn’t seem like the type to be into American comedians, but you never know. “Was wondering where everyone was. I know Sasha’s at lunch, but I couldn’t find anyone else either.”

“Jon’s got a meeting with—Elias. Something about the budget, I think. I can hear him now. ‘I have acceded to your…concerns in regards to the fire suppression system, but really, Jon, it was quite expensive, so we’ll need to have a serious discussion regarding some of these other requests you’ve made.’” Martin’s impression of Elias’s voice is amazingly spot-on.

Tim frowns a little, though, because it’s also amazingly biting and bitter. He mocks Elias all the time, usually making Sasha and Martin laugh when he does, and occasionally Sasha joins in, but he’s never heard Martin do anything but laugh or nervously try to stop them. He’s certainly never heard Martin speak about Elias, or anyone else for that matter, with that much anger—no, not anger. Hatred. Tim didn’t even realize Martin had that kind of hatred in him, let alone directed at Elias.

“How long have you worked here again?” he asks.

“F—eleven years, give or take. Why?”

Tim studies Martin. He looks…tired isn’t the word. He looks exhausted. He’s pale, although that  could be because he’s been basically underground for almost two months and it was winter before that. His glasses sort of hide them, but looking closer, Tim can see shadows under his eyes so deep they’re nearly bruises. The papers in his hand waver a little, and it’s not because of air currents in the Archives, it’s because Martin’s hands are shaking, ever so faintly. He looks like a precariously-built structure that’s just had the support props removed—standing on his own, for the moment, but with a sense that it won’t take long, or much effort, to send him crashing to the ground.

It’s that that makes Tim decide to change tack. He was about to ask why Martin doesn’t quit if he hates Elias that much, but in the state he’s in, Martin might just do that, and if he quits he can’t stay living there, and if he leaves he might get hurt. Besides, he knows why Martin—usually—puts up with so much crap, and not just from Elias.

Instead, he says, “Well, I guess that’s long enough to build up a good reserve of aggro against the Big Guy. Aren’t you worried he’ll overhear you, though? After all, ‘nothing escapes his notice.’” He does his own impression of Elias, and it’s about as spot-on as Martin’s, but even he can hear the difference in tone.

“I’m not worth his attention.” There’s still that spark of bitter anger in Martin’s voice, but also a note of resignation. “Besides, he’s busy with his meeting. He won’t be looking at anything down here.”

The first part of Martin’s reply has Tim wanting to storm up to the office and knock both his bosses’ heads together—nobody has the right to make Martin feel like that—but the second part gives him pause. Martin makes it sound like Elias is…spying on them. Tim knows there’s no CCTV equipment in the Archives, something about interference, but could Elias have the place bugged?

“You get that feeling, too, do you?” he asks quietly. “Like you’re being…watched?”

Martin laughs. There’s no humor in it. “Yeah, get used to that, it’s not ever going to go away.” Before Tim can say anything, he rubs a hand over his face. “Sorry. Sorry, I’m just…sorry.”

“You really don’t have anything to be sorry for.” Tim glances at the papers in Martin’s hand. “So what’s that, then?”

“Oh. Erm, Jon asked me to—to pull some statements that might be helpful, so I was looking through and seeing what we’ve got.” Martin holds up the paper to study it. “Thought this one might be useful.”

Partly because Martin is so visibly tired, and partly because Tim’s not actually capable of carrying out a conversation without being at least a little lighthearted, he smirks. “Wow, I knew you were good, but I didn’t realize you were so good you could read a statement upside down.”

He expects Martin to blush. Instead, his face goes almost bone-white and his eyes get as big as saucers. He says something in what Tim is pretty sure is Polish—something Eastern European, anyway, and he knows Martin speaks Polish—and is also pretty sure is profane, but then he recovers and looks up at Tim. “Well enough to pick out the salient points, anyway. Here—take a look. What do you think?”

He thrusts the papers at Tim, who decides—again—not to mention that Martin’s hands are shaking and takes them. His eyes fall on the name on the document, and his eyes widen.

“Okay, I take it back,” he says. “You said you saw salient points—did you see the name?”

“No, but—” Martin pauses. “Christ. It’s from her, isn’t it?”

Tim doesn’t need Martin to clarify who she is. “Yep. You should take this to Jon. Like, now. He’s definitely going to want to see this.”

Martin nods. “I’ll just—put it on his desk then. Unless you want to.”

“No, you go ahead. This is your find, you deserve the credit. I’m going to—” Tim waves vaguely over his shoulder. “It’s lunchtime. Want me to bring you back anything?”

“I’m good, but thanks, Tim.” Martin smiles. There’s something sad about it. “You’re a good friend.”

“Of course I am.” Tim grins to cover up his confusion. “Right, see you in an hour or so.”

“Right-o.” Martin hesitates for the barest of seconds, then starts off down the row of shelves. Tim hears a clang and a curse as he rounds the corner and suspects he’s run into something, or at least banged the fire extinguisher dangling from his hip like a gun in a cowboy movie into something.

Figuring Martin will be embarrassed and not want anyone fussing over him, Tim heads in the other direction, looking for Sasha. He lucks out; she’s just coming in the side entrance, stomping hard as she does so before shutting the door firmly. She looks over at Tim and grimaces. “Worms,” she says succinctly. “What’s up?”

Tim glances over his shoulder to make sure they’re alone, then quietly tells her, “I’m worried about Martin. Frankly, he looks like hell.”

Sasha frowns. “I mean, he is under a lot of stress these days.”

“I know, and I don’t think he’s sleeping.” Tim quickly recounts the encounter he’s just had with Martin, as well as what preceded it. “As bad as it is being alone down here in the daylight, it must be a thousand times worse after dark. No wonder he isn’t getting any rest.”

“So what are you suggesting?”

Tim grins recklessly. “How do you feel about a sleepover in the Archives?”

Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t take him long to get Sasha on board; it’s obvious she’s been worrying about Martin, too, and there’s strength in numbers. Tim spends most of the rest of the day pretending to be working while really he’s plotting out how to stick around for the night without letting Jon know. It’s not that he thinks Jon would mind…well, he does, actually. He can almost hear Jon’s voice in his head: This is a place of business, Tim, not a sleepaway camp. Also, Tim doesn’t want Jon to decide to stay as well; he relaxes—some—when they’re all together off-duty, on the whole one occasion they managed to do that, but if they’re still in the Archives he’s perfectly capable of trying to make them keep working, and Tim very much wants to distract Martin from all the things he’s stressing about tonight, work included.

Besides, he’s also trying to surprise Martin, despite that probably not being a great idea.

In the end, it turns out to be pretty easy. Jon doesn’t linger at the end of the day, so Tim and Sasha walk out with him, calling cheerful good-nights to Martin before trooping out the outer access door. Tim, the only one who drives to work regularly, offers Sasha a ride home; she pretends to grudgingly accept. He offers Jon one, too, but unsurprisingly (and thankfully, as Tim has conveniently omitted to mention that he didn’t actually drive in today), Jon declines, citing as his reason that he lives in the opposite direction as both of them. As they reach the edge of the grounds, Tim slips his hand in his pocket for his keys. Nothing.

“Oh, hell,” he says, trying very hard not to overdo it as he pats himself down. “Where the hell are my keys?”

“You had them in your hand when you got back from lunch,” Sasha volunteers. “Maybe you left them on your desk?”

“Or I dropped them. Hope I didn’t throw them out by mistake.” Tim turns back towards the Institute. “Front door’s still unlocked, I can just pop down and check for them…you want to wait out here, Sash?”

“Not likely.” Sasha falls into step with him. “Four eyes are better than two, and those steps are spooky after dark. I’ll come help.”

Tim glances over his shoulder briefly as they head up the steps. Jon is halfway down the block towards the Tube station. “I don’t think he heard a word of that, actually.”

“Better safe than sorry, right?” Sasha nudges him. “Come on, let’s see if we can slip past Rosie.”

Fortunately, there’s a big crowd heading outside about then, so they’re able to escape attention as they head back down the steps leading to the Archives. The first thing Tim does is head over to his desk and hold up the keys he deliberately left sitting there with an air of triumph. “Here they are!”

“Tim, you’re an idiot.” Sasha shakes her head in amusement.

“But a devious one.” Tim drops the keys into his jacket pocket before hanging it on the back of his chair. “Come on, let’s go find Martin and rustle up some dinner.”

Sasha hangs up her jacket, too, and the two of them head into the Archives. Tim at first is going for the little room where the cot is set up, where Martin’s been sleeping, but then he hears…voices? A voice, at least. It sounds like Martin, and it sounds like he’s having a conversation with someone, but…

“Martin?” he calls, not wanting to startle him again. “You talking to yourself over there?”

“Tim!” Martin’s voice is high and strained. “Y-you’re supposed to—yes! Yes, I am talking to myself, sorry about that.” He pops out from behind a shelf and forces a smile. “Sasha? What are you two doing here? Did you forget something?”

“Yes,” Sasha says. “We forgot that we get to go home safe every night while you’re stuck here in the middle of the spooky, whispering, singing Archives.”

“Singing?” Tim and Martin say in unison.

Sasha frowns at them both. “Yes. Neither of you has heard it? That faint singing, when there’s no other sound to be heard?”

Tim gives Martin a confused look. Martin looks both confused and worried. “No? No, I can’t say I’ve ever noticed it.”

There’s a clatter from somewhere else in the Archives, and Martin casts a nervous glance over his shoulder. Tim stiffens. “What was that?”

“Nothing. Nothing. It’s—it’s probably nothing.” Martin runs a hand through his hair, looking worried. “Anyway, you two should—go, maybe. It’s getting dark and all.”

“Nope, not tonight.” Tim slings an arm around Martin’s shoulders. “I’ve decided not to leave you alone anymore. Sasha’s staying tonight, too, it’s up to her if she stays after this, but from now on, I’m not leaving the Institute until you can, too.”

“Erm—thanks, Tim, but…” Martin wrings his hands. “I don’t mind staying alone tonight. There’s something I need to do and—it’s best I do it myself, so—maybe another night? Besides! Besides, you’re not even prepared for this and…”

“Martin,” Sasha says, looking annoyed, “what’s going on?”

Tim should probably be annoyed, too, but he’s just worried. He tries not to show it, though. Whatever it is Martin is planning to do, or whatever reason he thinks he needs to be alone, Martin is pretty damn stubborn and it’s going to take a gentle application of pressure rather than a show of force to get him to yield. Persuasion rather than intimidation.

“We’re friends, right?” he says, as gently as he can. “You can trust us.”

Martin’s shoulders slump. “I know. It’s just…you’re going to think I’m crazy.”

Tim spreads out his hands, palms up. “You were held hostage in your flat for two weeks by a thousand worms wrapped in a trench coat, which followed you home after you broke into a basement to investigate a man who was stalked and murdered by the ghost of a spider he killed twenty years ago. Sasha was attacked by a man with knives for hands and a smile that didn’t fit his face, and now she’s talking about the Archives singing. I haven’t even ever told you why I came to work at the Institute in the first place, but believe me, it makes the rest of that seem normal. Whatever you’re going to tell us, I promise you, crazy is the last thing I’ll think you are.” He jerks his thumb over his shoulder. “Besides, you’re wrong about us not planning anything for this. I bought us dinner when I was out on my lunch break, so let’s all head to the break room and eat, and you can tell us what’s going on.”

Sasha loops her arm through Martin’s on one side, and Tim takes the other, so he can’t escape them, and together they proceed to the break room. The halls are set to emergency lighting only, and the break room is completely dark, but when Tim fumbles for the switch, Martin extracts his arm and clicks on a torch.

“The lights are centrally controlled,” he explains. “There’s a master switch somewhere. I don’t know if Rosie or Elias turns it off when they leave, but one of them does, so it’s nothing but emergency lighting, and I’ve only seen that in the Archives.”

Tim wonders how he’s never known that, but then again, it’s not like he stays late all that often, maybe twice in the whole three years he’s been with the Institute. (God, has it really only been three years?) And it’s not like he’s ever gone around looking for light switches before. Never been a priority.

“Well, then,” he says, “I guess we’ll take our food back to the Archives. We can have a picnic on the floor or something and you can explain what the hell is going on there.”

Martin doesn’t say anything, just shines the light on the refrigerator. Tim retrieves the takeout containers he placed there with PROPERTY OF TIMOTHY STOKER, CONTAINS POISON, ELECTRIFIED, DO NOT TOUCH, THIS MEANS YOU, SCOTT scribbled across the tops and sides, then comes back to the door. “If this didn’t work, I’m going to figure out a way to actually electrify them next time,” he informs the others.

Sasha snorts. “You really think it’s Scott who keeps stealing your lunches?”

“It’s either him or the monster under the fridge.” Tim regrets saying it as soon as it’s out of his mouth, because there are times jokes like that don’t feel all that much like jokes.

When they get back to the Archives, Tim is about to suggest a comfortable corner to have their dinner in when there’s a loud banging noise that almost makes him drop the containers. Sasha about jumps out of her skin. “What was that?”

“Who’s there?” Tim yells, despite having already realized that not doing that is practically Horror Film 101.

The answer makes Tim’s blood run cold, for two reasons. One, it’s coming from Jon’s office, the door of which is now ajar…and two, it’s Martin’s voice. “Storage room! Now!”

“Come on, come on!” Martin—the real Martin—grabs Sasha’s wrist on one side and Tim’s arm on the other and practically drags them across the floor. Sasha screams, and Tim follows her gaze and can’t help a shout of fear as well. Pouring out of Jon’s office are hundreds—maybe thousands—of small white worms, wriggling wetly and coming straight at them.

Martin makes a noise that’s somewhere between a whimper and a defiant yell and hauls both of them over to a door off to one side. He lets go of Tim long enough to yank the door open, then shoves the other two in and slams it shut once they’re all inside, breathing heavily.

“What the hell is going on?” Tim demands, wavering somewhere between outrage and fear.

“The worms,” Martin gasps, which isn’t really an answer. “This room is sealed. I checked it myself when I moved in. Also climate-controlled. Sturdy door. Soundproof. These old documents are better protected than we ever were.”

He sounds like he’s repeating a lesson. Sasha shoots him a sharp look. “And that voice from Jon’s office? The one that told us to come in here?”

“The one that sounded like you?” Tim adds.

“It is me,” Martin says, his voice high and sharp. Clearly he’s at the end of his tether. “From the future. He came back to stop the world from ending and this is apparently part of the plan and I, I knew he was going to start it tonight, he told me after we thought all of you had left that he had something to do and I was supposed to help him with it, but I wasn’t counting on you two sticking around. I also didn’t expect him to start this fast, but—” He breaks off abruptly and leaps back from the door. “Christ!”

Sasha looks stunned by the barrage of information. Tim is, too, but he’s also worried about whatever Martin sees out there, so he thrusts the takeaway containers at her without conscious thought and peers out the window in the door. What he sees turns his stomach.

“O…kay.” He takes a deep breath. “That is…a lot of worms.”

“Any sign of Prentiss?” Martin asks anxiously.

“Not yet.” Tim realizes what he just said and turns to look at Martin. “You think she’ll show up?”

Martin makes an exasperated gesture. “No, Tim, I think worms are just randomly pouring into the Archives undirected. It’s just your basic insect infestation. Maybe somebody left food out!”

“Okay, okay, I get the picture.” Tim steps back. He really doesn’t want to see what’s out there.

Sasha hands him back the takeaway containers and steps up to peer out herself. “Martin…are you sure it’s really…you know, you from the future?”

“Positive. He knows things about me that I haven’t…really told many people? He told me to—” Martin takes a deep breath and looks away from Sasha. “To, erm, tell Jon that I lied on my CV, I don’t actually have a master’s degree in parapsychology, I just really needed the job. He said Jon wouldn’t be mad at me, and…well, he was right. He told me the worms were under the Institute, but they weren’t really after me, so I’d be safe.”

“This is safe?” Tim demands.

“Well, I think he sort of—broke into the walls? He’s going after them now. I’m—I was supposed to set a fire, not a big one, just small enough to set off the suppressant system so that whatever got in here would die.” Martin swallows hard.

“You’re not going out there alone,” Tim says firmly.

“You’re not going out there at all,” Sasha says. She backs away from the door and leans against the wall, rubbing her temples. “God! Tell me you can’t hear that now.”

“Hear what?” Tim asks.

Martin cocks his head. “I don’t hear anything. And we shouldn’t be able to hear anything. I told you, this room’s soundproof.”

“I can hear the singing. Like…” Sasha frowns and moves away from the wall. Her frown deepens and she moves back. “Wait…it’s louder over here. Like it’s coming from inside the wall…this wall.”

“Isn’t that an exterior wall?” Tim asks.

“Should be.” Sasha thumps on it, hard, and manages to put a fist-sized dent in the drywall.

After that…things happen rather quickly.

[microwaveabl]

Alright fuckers,

I decided to post what I have right now of my story, starting at Comic Con. @septicake​ hasn’t responded all day, but I hope they like it. Flowey, sentient toilets, and gay Obi Wan are here!

9

The next morning, we were both excited. We were finally going to get our answers. Fairly early that morning, we set out. It took us a bit to find the convention center, which Robin remarked upon: “This sounds exactly like the sort of thing we should’ve prepared for earlier this week”. I hate it when he’s right.

When we got there, we were awestruck at the spectacle before us. Hundreds of people, dressed as wizards, elves, orcs, comic book superheroes, video game characters, and soooooooo much more were there. Cosplayers of every kind, colors everywhere, it was incredible! I can’t begin to describe the wonder I felt, or everything I wondered at.

“All the hype was worth it,” Robin whispered to me, and I slowly nodded.

“This is… wow,” I responded, my eyes large. The twos of us, Robin and I, walked into the center, and my jaw dropped. It was even better than the outside! So many people, packed into the place! I knew it was big, but now I was wondering how exactly I was supposed to entertain everybody while Robin looked through them.

“Okay, slight change to the plan. I’m going to go up on that stage and begin my act. I’ll invite some people up, do some cool stuff. I’ll use a spell to broadcast my voice, for I think it’d be difficult to get a connected microphone headpiece thing. You get up there-” I pointed up to some of the pathways near the ceiling, probably so that those large posters on the wall could be hung, or something “- and use this charm of seeing” -I produced a small magnifying glass from my pocket - obviously enchanted, not just a magnifying glass “-and scan the crowd. You know what to look for, and, I don’t know, figure out a way to contact them. Maybe you have a charm, or something, I’m not sure. Improvise, you’re good at that!”

“This is a terrible idea,” Robin told me, “and you’re going to get kicked out. Still, I can’t think of a better idea.”

I grinned. “Good, and besides, if I do well enough, they won’t want me to leave. Now go up, and get ready.”

I waited while he made his way through back ways and such, until he was up on the pathways (I should really figure out what they are called, but we don’t have them where I come from, and I don’t feel like learning it). He tossed something down at me, not sure how it got to me through the crowd, and I looked questioningly at him. He mimed putting it in my ear, and it did look like some kind of earpiece. I gently placed it in my ear, wincing slightly, for I didn’t think it was meant for my pointy elven ears. 

“Hey,” a voice that sounded like Robin’s came into my ear. I jumped, and looked up at him. He was grinning, of course.

“Can we communicate through these?” I hesitantly asked, to which I heard, while noticing it was definitely Robin speaking, “Yeah, I found a couple earpieces and tuned them to each other. Don’t know how I managed, but hey, if it ain't broke, don’t knock it.”

I chuckled, and responded, “Fair. Let’s get this show on the proverbial road and the literal stage.”

I pushed my way through the crowd, passing Captain Americas, Captain Rogers’, Captain Mal Reynolds’, and many others that were not Captains. Finally, I made my way to the stage. Wondering what exactly I would say, I jumped up onto it, where there were luckily no people, and muttered to myself, “I’m an introvert, and yet I’m here at such an extrovert place, about to do something terrifying. It’s a good thing I really want to get home, and I really hope this works.”

I activated my charm as people looked up at me, wondering what an elf was doing up on stage, and began speaking.

“Hello, all of you. You might be wondering what I’m doing up here on stage. To be honest, I am not sure either, but I think I’m supposed to give a demonstration or whatever it’s called for my cosplay, but they didn’t really tell me. Hey, can I get some boxes or something destructible up here?”

A couple confused convention workers brought up some empty boxes, while I sweated, wondering if I should make a run for it. Somehow, though, nobody came up and stopped me. I wasn’t even sure why there was a stage up here in the first place. Was an event or actual demonstration supposed to happen? Whatever the case, this was working, and I could see Robin up there scanning the crowd, though none of them really should be interested yet.

It was time to change that.

I deftly pulled out my sword, keeping it in this dimension. I did some basic fighter’s moves, which seemed to impress the people. 

“This is one of two Vorpal blades of mine. The name is misleading, or rather, does not do my blades justice. A vorpal blade simply is one that has the capacity to decapitate a foe, especially in fantasy games such as Dungeons and Dragons. However, all of my blades are like that.”

A few nervous laughs floated to me. I looked up at Robin for support, and he gave me a thumbs up. He spoke to me, saying, “Now, tell them the special thing and give them a little demonstration.”

“Okay. My blades are special, for they are enchanted. They can change dimensions at my will, and thus pass through objects in this one when I desire, and join back up in this one to cut what I want.”

To demonstrate, I deftly stabbed my sword at the first box, phasing it just before it broke the flimsy cardboard.

“Now, that may not look impressive, as you do not know that my blades do any damage at all, or that these boxes were not staged so I would not appear to do any damage. Furthermore, optical illusions could render it such that I did not stab the cardboard at all, and thus am a fraud. Now, will someone please come up here? I really don’t care who.”

People murmured amongst themselves, until one person stepped forward.

“I will,” they said, and I asked them a little about themselves. They were John, a human male, who came alone, dressed as The Arrow from DC. He loved coming to Comic-Con, and was excited at the opportunity to be a part of what he thought of as a very real and planned demonstration. He came up on stage, and I appraised him.

“I loved your T.V. show,” I said, saying the first thing that popped into my head. I had never seen a single episode, but knew that it was a thing and hoped he wouldn’t question me.

He beamed at me, and said, “Thank you! You are a really good elf!”

“I try. Now,” I directed this at the crowd, “I shall prove, in front of a witness, that these blades are no joke.”

I quickly pulled the handles close to myself, phased them back into reality, and drove them into the boxes. They easily cut through them, for they were designed to cut through things much tougher than some boxes. I then rapidly whirled, phased my blades out of sync, swept the handles just in front of John’s face, and phased them back in sync with the world. I asked a stunned, slightly scared John to touch the blades, and he reported they were very sharp.

“Now, was that an optical illusion? I think not. I am also a great fighter, and master of small charms.” At this, I tossed up a charm I had created haphazardly and quickly earlier, which exploded into a sunburst of light. I had built it to be merely light and not also heat, a better model, I think, than the fireworks of Earth. I pulled another from my cloak, threw it to the ground, and watched as the image of a unicorn burst from it, dazzling the crowd as it dashed between them, an apparition and nothing more. After lapping the center, it returned to the charm, which I picked up. I asked John to return, and I thought about what I would do next.

I heard Robin tell me, “I may have found someone. Here, let me give you some sight.” Before I could protest, I was looking through one of Robin’s eyes and one of my own, which was quite disconcerting. I closed the eye connected to my own vision, and looked through Robin’s. He was looking at a wizard, quite a well done cosplay, perhaps too well done. He was staring attentively at me, but not the same way as the others. He wasn’t awed, or surprised, just kinda wide-eyed, like he couldn’t believe someone else was here. I nodded, prepared for vertigo, and opened my other eye.

After a moment, I noticed the position of the wizard. I noted him in my mind, noted where he was, and whispered to Robin to disconnect us. My vision was yanked back to my own perspective, which was nice, and I prepared my next bit. Everyone was still oohing and aahing at my magic, and so I decided to have a little fun. 

“You there!” my voice boomed, my finger pointed at the wizard. He panicked, and I quickly said, “No, please, come on up. I won’t hurt you, I just want another person for my next part. John was lovely, but you look like you know some real magic!” I laughed, and the audience laughed as well. He was pushed forward, and reluctantly got up on stage. 

“Now, what is your name?” I asked him, which was the polite way to go about things, I believed.

He glared at me, and responded, “I am Thuzhal, a wizard banished to this realm for many heinous acts.”

“Ooh, nice backstory. I like it! What kinds of acts?” I replied enthusiastically.

He sighed, and said, “Well, people don’t really ask me, so I say they’re heinous. I was just kinda messing around and apparently broke something important, and so I was magically exiled. I was trying to figure out how to get back in, looking through probably forbidden texts, when I tried a spell to return me to the place so I could undo my exile, but it instead sent me across dimensions and I ended up on this technology-ridden, climate-changed planet.”

I clapped, and people in the audience followed my example. “I like that! Gives you an objective, something dark, and just enough flare of mystery. Now, my good sir, I am also not from around here. I was transported here when I tried to figure out the true magical nature of my staff, here-” I gestured at the staff I had leaned against a wall, yes, obviously the one topped with the spider, “-and found myself in a cornfield in Illinois! Naturally, I was confused, as corn does not exist in my world, and I did not know that I had changed dimensions. Now, my man, I believe we can help each other! You know magic and magical items, and I have my staff! Now, for my demonstration…” I decided to try a little something. I pulled out my blades, and concentrated on making them visible, but slightly out of sync with Earth. The sword blades usually became invisible when phased, but I did my best to keep that from happening. 

The blades flickered, trying to change dimensions, but I did my best. Eventually, they came into full view, but I passed them gently through my hand to make sure they weren’t physical. I then whirled and, similarly to what I did with John, tried to swing it through the wizard’s neck. However, he was also armed, and so tried to block my attack, which obviously failed. My blade passed straight through him, and he retaliated, swinging a small dagger at me with ferocity and a wild look in his eyes. From the way he handled his blade, I could tell he wasn’t experienced. This was going to end quickly, luckily, I thought, and parried his frenzied swing. 

With a series of quick swipes, jabs, kicks, and punches, I disarmed the wizard and sent him to his knees. “Look, man, I didn’t want this to happen. I’m sorry for swinging at you, but it was part of the demonstration. You can get up and help me, or leave, alone, stuck here, probably never to return to your home. Which would you prefer?”

Thuzhal considered my words, and grudgingly got to his feet. I handed him his dagger, which appeared to be made of mithril, and smiled. 

“Good, now let’s get out of here. I’m not even supposed to be demonstrating anything here, I just got up on stage and nobody stopped me for whatever reason.” I deactivated my microphone-like charm, and told Robin, “Come on, let’s go.”

He ran into a door, and quickly joined me. I surveyed the crowd, which was full of whispers, no doubt about me and what I had just said. I jumped down, followed by Thuzhal and Robin, and we pushed past the crowd, out of the door, and ran a block before slowing to a walk. We returned to our motel, and I was happy we had managed to complete our goal for that day.

10

“I’m afraid we may have a problem,” Thuzhal said, walking into the bedroom.

“What kind of problem?” I asked, a little surprised by his sudden entrance and a little frustrated that he couldn’t immediately solve all of our problems.

He winced at the strength of my words, and responded, “Well, I know what kind of magic it uses, and I can partially control it. However, I cannot control the exact dimension. I can make it so that we don’t end up places we can’t survive, like in the vastness of space, or on a planet where the air is poisonous. We will have to travel many worlds until we either get lucky and end up in the right one, or find someone who can use your energy signatures to lock onto our universe. Will that work?”

I thought about it, looked over at Robin, who was sitting cross-legged on his bed, and looked back at Thuzhal. “Well, I guess we don’t really have a choice, so let’s go with that. Do we have any idea how long this will take?”

Thuzhal grinned, and said loudly, “Nope!”

I sighed, and replied, “Well, pack your bags. Might as well get right on down to it.”

*

We packed the gear we wanted to bring with us, which included some probably illegal items. It has been neglected to mention that these items included two assault rifles, lots of ammo, a couple grenades, a few other guns, including a sniper rifle and a pistol (of course we also had plenty of those ammos as well, and I intended to get a blacksmith or something to break them open and figure out how to make them and potentially augment them/the gun.). There were others, but I shouldn’t really mention them.

We gathered behind the motel, in the parking lot, after checking out and getting our stuff all ready. I readied myself for what was about to happen, planted the staff at arm’s length in front of me, and Robin and Thuzhal both grabbed it. After exchanging grim looks with both of them, I grabbed the spider, and it did the same thing as the previous time we used it, though the eyes seemed to glow brighter and the wind seemed stronger. I closed my eyes, and wondered what would happen on the other side, just before I lost consciousness.

11

When I returned to consciousness, I was confused. The sky was a pastel purple, with red dots swirling through it. It seemed like some kind of strange dream, and its colors were chaos. The ground was some kind of acid green, and there were portable toilets everywhere. They were in every shade, from green to blue to pink to yellow. I closed my eyes, as I felt a migraine coming on. I shaded my eyes and reopened them, looking at the ground for Robin and Thuzhal. I found Thuzhal covering his eyes, peeking through his fingers at the landscape, and Robin was still passed out on the ground. Oh, and, by the way, Thuzhal is a human. 

“This is a strange world you have brought us to, elf,” he told me, and I followed his gaze. I had originally thought that the toilets were just sitting there, but as I really looked at them, I saw that they were moving. There was even a small village, made of what I couldn’t say, as there wasn’t a tree or rock around. Even the ground itself was a deep green, and made of a substance I couldn’t make out. It was smooth, and I could push my hand through it, like a partial liquid. It was strange, as none of us were sinking into it, but it didn’t seem like good building material. The toilets weren’t walking, or splitting apart in any way, but just seemed to glide, all of which seemed very strange and impossible to me. When they came to a step, they seemed like they just jumped, but with no downward movement to create thrust upward, if that makes sense.

“Let’s… explore?” I said hesitantly, and Thuzhal strode toward the settlement. I followed him, after a moment’s consideration, and dragged Robin behind me. When we got closer, we could see that it was made of some kind of wood, and so I guessed that they had just taken down any trees in view. It seemed similar to a Wild West town, minus the dust everywhere, horses, natural colors, or people. I was quite unnerved, and moved close to one of the johns.

“Uh… hello?” I said (asked?) hesitantly. It’s door turned to me, and it seemed to make an annoyed, squishy sound from within it. 

“Do you guys have any wizards or magic folk at all?” I asked it. It moved toward me, making angry sounds from within it, and I backed away. “I don’t think it likes the sound of ‘wizard’.” It moved faster, squishing louder, and other toilets started coming over. I pulled Robin into a fireman’s carry on my back, and readied one of my blades. 

“We should get out of here, Thuzhal,” I told him, and he nodded, his eyes frantic. I turned and ran, but there were toilets everywhere.

“No time! We have to do it here!” I shouted, and he grabbed the staff. I shrugged Robin forward and held his hand around the pole, and grabbed the arachnid on top.

*

When I awoke, I simply lay there. I didn’t really want to open my eyes and find out where we had landed, but I suppose it would have to happen eventually. I slowly opened my eyes, and squinted at the bright light coming from the sun… suns? There were two shining orbs in the sky, one more yellow-y, and one more orange-y. It was very hot, and the ground was grainy. When I looked at the landscape, I saw that we were in a large desert of sand, and there were a couple houses in the distance. It looked like about midday, but I couldn’t be sure how long the day lasted, so it would be best to start moving. I got to my feet, and noticed that both Thuzhal and Robin were still passed out.

“Hey,” I said, shaking Robin. He stirred, and started moving. I moved over to Thuzhal, and patted his shoulder.

“Wakey, wakey, time to get up sleepyhead,” I told Thuzhal, and his eyes snapped open, then quickly shut.

“Where are we, and why is it so bright?” Thuzhal said, and Robin nodded in agreement.

I shrugged. “I’m not sure, but there are some houses over there, we can ask them. I hope it goes better this time than last time.”

Robin looked confused. He held up a finger, and said, “Last time? Do you mean Earth?”

I was also confused for a second, before I remembered that Robin had been asleep the previous dimension.

“Well, we travelled dimensions, and you know how we always fall unconscious when we do that? Well, you were asleep while Thuzhal and I almost died from sentient Porta-Potties.”

This only served to bewilder him even more, and I described the events that had taken place in the strange, colorful dimension.

“Anyway,” I said, finishing up, “we should get moving. We aren’t going to kill ourselves, after all!”

With that lovely remark, we started walking toward the houses. It was extremely hot, hotter than Calimport, even hotter than California in summer. I didn’t know how people handled it, but then I thought, perhaps the people here are different and more adapted to this environment. 

After probably 15 minutes, we got to the houses. They were strange, quite small and kinda dome-like, circular, with person-height walls and a sloped, domed kinda roof. It was similarly colored as the sand, probably so that it could blend in, though the satellite dish looking thing on top of it kinda ruined the effect. It was silvery, and very much did not blend in.

“Sh-should we go in?” I asked tentatively, and Thuzhal marched forward, grinning. “Um, is that a yes?”

“I recognize this place!” he said in response, and knocked on the first door. I rushed toward him, but it was too late.

“HOW, exactly can you recognize this? You’ve never been here! You were directly transported to-” A thought rushed into my mind, causing me to stop in my tracks. “It’s like Faerûn, huh? Someone came from this world, or travelled here, and made a story or whatever based on this place?”

He slowly nodded, and simply replied, “Star Wars.”

*

The door opened, sliding to one side, and a man came out. I hadn’t seen a lot about Star Wars, but there were a lot of cosplayers at Comic-Con that I had recognized as probably being from this universe. The person that opened the door looked like Obi-Wan, except his hair was black. I blinked, for, while it was true I didn’t know much about Star Wars (already mentioned, but it makes this sentence flow better. Shut up, stupid), I knew that: 1. He wasn’t supposed to be on Tatooine until much later, when he looked old with white hair, or something, and 2. His hair was brown, not black. All of this was very confusing, especially once Qui Gon Jinn walked past, asking, “Who is it, honey?”

“U… u-um, I’m Alushtas, and these are Robin and Thuzhal,” I stammered, my eyes searching for answers I doubted I would easily find.

“Ah, hello! What lovely and strange names! What can I do for you?” he asked nicely, and I looked at my companions. 

“Uh, can we come in? I think we need to talk to you,” I said kinda randomly, for I was still very confused and needed to figure out what was happening.

He smiled, and ushered us in. “Honey, come meet our guests!” he said, and Qui Gon walked back in.

I looked back and forth between the two men, and I asked Obi-Wan, “Why does he keep calling you ‘honey’?”

They looked at each other and smiled, and Obi-Wan told me, “Well, we were dating for a while, but then this wonderful man approached me, what, probably almost a year and a half ago, and proposed to me! Of course, I said yes, and we’ve been living here ever since, happier than ever!” Qui Gon came over and hugged Obi-Wan deeply, and the two men sat down on a couch, holding hands. 

Thuzhal looked confused as well, though I had realized that this was not the normal Star Wars universe I knew, and the wizard asked, “Where is Luke? I thought he lived here.”

“Well, yes, he has, but once he married his spouse, they’ve been travelling the galaxy. Would you like some blue milk?”

“Uh, sure,” I said, and Obi-Wan waved his hand. A glass came over to me, as if by magic, and I sipped it warily. It was good, similar to Earth milk, but more coconut-y. 

“Soooo, who has Luke married, anyway?” I asked Qui Gon, taking a longer drink from my glass.

“Oh, he ran off with that hooligan, Han Solo, for a bit, but he came back eventually, and told me they were getting married. I was shocked, for it seemed sudden, but they were happy, and so we gave them our blessing,” he replied, and I, suddenly realizing something, asked another question (we really wanted to ask questions, I guess), “So what happened to Chewbacca?”

“Ah, good old Chew. They are going around the galaxy, exploring, happy by themselves. They liked Han, but they always felt less, you know? They are very introverted, and just like to explore. They find people difficult to understand, and they’ve told me that everyone just goes too quickly for them. Last I heard, they were going to Coruscant, which is nice.”

“Mhm. Anyway, you guys haven’t mastered inter-dimensional travel yet, have you?” I asked, realizing that, while cool, this place wasn’t really gonna help us.

“Unfortunately, that project was shut down because of its possible repercussions and side effects and all that,” he told me, “did you need something like that?”

I shrugged, and said, “Yeah, it would’ve been nice, but I think we might be able to manage. We should be going, though. Thank you, both of you, for everything.”

Qui Gon smiled at us, and asked, “Are you sure you want to leave? We’d be happy for you to stay.”

I sadly smiled back at him, and replied, “Yeah, we need to go.”

We said our goodbyes, and left. When we were out of sight of the house, it was probably about midnight.

“Well guys? Shall we?” I said, holding out the spider-adorned staff.

*

We travelled through many more dimensions, probably more than I could ever describe. As we travelled, and got used to dimension-hopping, we slept for less and less time, and eventually simply got tired, and then slightly dizzy.

Something that I have talked about, but not really explained, was that Earth was a Chaos realm. This means that both magic and technology work there, though there are other realms in which magic works and tech doesn’t, ones where tech works and magic doesn’t, and ones where neither work. However, this is a flawed perspective. It is one described by wizards of old in my world (yes, interdimensional travel isn’t completely unknown back home in Faerun), and their experiences in other realms. 

This is flawed for a couple reasons. It isn’t so simple as just ‘technology and magic, or one, or neither’. Magic can take many forms, and magic that works in one place doesn’t necessarily work in another. In the Star Wars-like world, there were Jedi that could manipulate objects using their mind and what they called the Force, which seems to be a type of magic. Meanwhile, my own magic could have been unstable or unusable, because it is a different world than mine. Similarly, magic could exist on Earth, though its inhabitants didn’t usually have it, leading to unpredictable results. I was lucky that only a couple of my charms failed or had issues, and not more of them. There were many other forms of magic, but to go into detail would take too long.

Technology is also a difficult thing to pin down. It’s basically just the application of knowledge for practical purposes, and so almost anything creature-made could be said to be technology. Again, some technology could function in some places, but not in others. Some steampunk worlds, for instance, couldn’t ‘fathom’ the existence of further innovation, like cars or computers. Other worlds were stuck in the Stone Age, and in some, not even bird’s nests could be made. I am not sure what would happen if one tried to make a bird’s nest in that world, but I had decided not to find out.

As we went along in our journey, I collected items. I wanted mementos of our travels, and hey, they might be useful in the future. Unfortunately, I wasn’t always able to pick things up, whether because of being chased by the inhabitants of the world or something else (and if you’re wondering if I took something from the Star Wars world, yes, I palmed a handle-looking thing with a button from a counter). This led to some fights, some running, and some pain. Still, I wanted certain items, like I think one was called a “Babel fish”, which allowed me to understand others, no matter what language they spoke. 

Something that I realized was that no matter where we went, some items were still able to be used. I eventually figured out that it was because they were dimensional items, which transcended some of the ordinary rules of the realms. We started with two - the staff itself, which is a good thing, because otherwise we would’ve ended up stranded on a random world. The other was my Vorpal blades, which was nice, because I liked them. However, the realm we received the third (and fourth and fifth?) dimensional item(s) was very… strange…

 *

We had come from a world of robots. There wasn’t a single human, elf, dog, orc, sentient species of any kind, or really any organic being that we found. Everything was automated, and seemed as though there had once been people, but then they had left, potentially leaving the robots there to keep things up until they returned. However, we realized that it was unlikely, if not impossible, that a machine could bring us home, rather than magic. Therefore, we left pretty quickly, though not before I got a small bracelet that had nanotech that could form a dagger in my hand in a millisecond, which could be quite useful.

When we arrived in the new realm, we found ourselves in a smallish room. There was a bed of flowers, yellow flowers, illuminated by a fairly dim light coming through a hole in the ceiling of the room. Actually, it seemed more like a cave, though we couldn’t really be completely sure. There was a hallway, or corridor, or whatever to our right. We went through it, and found a doorway.

We went through it, and walked through a system of rooms, some of which had puzzles, and traps, though none of them actually hurt us (well, except for Robin, who got a sprained ankle after falling through some leaves). We saw beings, some might call them monsters or abominations, which had very strange physical makeups. This wasn’t really uncommon for us to see, because of everywhere we had already been, but weird stuff is weird. One had a large eye as most of its body, and another looked similar to a frog. They ran from us, so we didn’t have to worry about fighting them, and when we got to the end of the rooms, we came to a small house.

We tentatively opened the door, and found the house deserted (or at least visibly so, and nobody came to the door to see who was there). There were stairs leading down to what I assumed was a basement right in front of us, a living room looking area to our left, and a hallway to our right. It seemed like an odd way to set up a house, but again, lots of places were quite queer (in both senses of the term). 

Anyway, we entered the living room. There was a table with chairs, bookshelves with books on them - “How to Cook Snails, Snail Basics, Meals with Snails?” -, and an armchair in front of a fireplace, fire included, which seemed like a fire hazard, but whatever. We didn’t find anyone, so we went through the door leading out of the room (not the one we entered).

We were in a kitchen, which seemed normal, except the stove didn’t work, there was white fur in the sink, and a pie on the counter. There was a faint smell of pie crust and cinnamon in the air, and I took a slice for later, in case I might want it (hey, I’m a thief, what would you expect, perfect morals?). We went back to the first room, and entered the hall.

There were three doors, two of which were bedrooms. We decided not to explore them, though one looked more like a child’s bedroom and one like an adult’s. The third was locked, however, and had a sign that read, ‘Room under Renovations’. Because there was no more of the house to explore, we went down the stairs to the basement.

There wasn’t really an actual basement, as far as we could tell. It was a long hallway, which, after walking the entirety of, showed us a doorway, similar to the one at the entrance, which we went through, as we didn’t want to walk back. We found ourselves in some kind of snowy, forest-y area, though, when we looked up to the sky, we could faintly see a cavern roof.

I’ll spare you the details, but basically, we went through this region, a very wet, cave-like region, and a very hot area. In the hot area, we came across a laboratory, which we chose to go into. It had a large video screen, seemingly inactive, though I couldn’t tell its use. As we continued walking through the building, we saw a cluttered desk, a bag of dog food(?), and a dark hole in the wall. When we got to the hole, the door to a bathroom hitherto unseen opened, and a tall lizard woman (?) came out. She looked quite surprised to see us, but hurried over nonetheless. 

“More humans? This is quite unusual… umm… hello? Who are you?” she asked hesitantly.

“I am Alushtas, and I am not a human… which I only tell you because I don’t know why. I am an elf, This is Robin, he’s a human, and Thuzhal, whose race I never actually found out, I think,” I responded.

“And I would prefer to keep it that way,” Thuzhal said, smiling and extending his hand toward the person. “And you are…?”

“Oh!” She blushed furiously. “M-my name is A-alphys, and I’m the-the royal scientist for King Asgore.”

“Oh, that’s cool. Do you guys have any, you know…, magic?” I asked Alphys. We seemed to do a lot of questioning in these worlds, and not much else.

“K-kinda, we have magical a-attacks and the like, and fire magic, and probably other kinds.”

“Oh.” I must’ve looked really sad, because she immediately responded with, “B-but that’s okay! Here, I can improve your phones! You… don’t… have phones? Um, I can get you phones!”

She rushed upstairs up an escalator, then quickly came down another closer to the entrance. She was holding three small objects, which I assumed was a phone, and hoped her word for phone meant the same thing it meant for me, because it could be useful. It seemed that way, so yay.

“Here! I have a phone for each of you! Y-yes, I had them l-laying around… anyway, they can text, access the internet wherever, access special Dimensional Boxes, defuse bombs, and activate a jetpack! Here, t-take them!”

We each took a phone, and I immediately checked out the Dimensional Boxes. They each had space for 8 items, seemingly no matter the size, which didn’t make sense, but whatever. There were 3 boxes, which was nice, so I didn’t have to worry about 24 items taking up space in my Bag of Holding. 

“Sweet, thank you!” I said, and she blushed again. “Oh, don’t worry, I just like helping people! S-speaking of which, there was this human that came through a bit ago. Have y-you seen them? I think Toriel is coming after them, and I’m a b-bit worried.”

Thuzhal and I exchanged looks as Robin looked between us. “No, we haven’t seen anybody except a couple dudes back at that purple place,” I told her, and her eyes widened.

“O-oh! You n-need to go… I’m s-sorry I can’t help more! Now, g-get out of here!”

She pushed us out of a back door, while I protested and tried to ask her about dimensional travelling. She didn’t listen to me, and locked the door after us.

“Well, now what? Do we go after the human? Do we go see the king? Do we leave? What do you dudes think?” I asked, looking at Robin and Thuzhal, whose backs were to the lab. 

“I think I can help!” a cheery voice said from behind. I whirled around, dagger forming in my hand. A little yellow flower had popped up from the ground, and it had a face which was smiling at us.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Thuzhal asked, suspicious of the small being.

“I’m Flowey! Flowey the flower! You were just talking to that overgrown lizard, huh? Don’t listen to her, she doesn’t know what she’s talking about!” the golden flower told us.

“Um, she seemed nice, while you were insulting her. Not really the way to play the ‘nice guy’ card,” Robin interjected.

Flowey gave a wide smile, and said, “Oh, sorry. We all insult her, ‘cause she’s senile and ignorant of the world. Even nice old King Asgore cracks jokes about her!”

By this point, I was very unsettled, but decided to humor Flowey. “So, you said you can help us. How?”

“Easy! The rules down here are simple. You k i l l, o r   y o u   b e   k i l l e d.” As he spoke, his face grew ugly, into a mixture of a smile and a look of utter hatred. He sent little white bullets at us, which we tried to dodge, but some still hit us. They really hurt, and it felt like my life force itself was being sapped. I swung my dagger at him, but he popped back into the ground and back up a bit further on.

“Hope you guys have fun! See ya later!” he said, smiling, and vanished into the ground.

“That… was horrible,” I said, and both of my companions nodded. 

“We should leave and never return.” Again, they nodded.

I pulled out the staff from my Bag, held it out, and we did our thing. However, as we began to flicker out of the strange, underground world, none of us noticed the edge of a flower root curling around the base of the staff.

wasn’t really sure how to say that Flowey was comin with the gang (obv without them wanting hiim to :P) with the exact wording, so I used ‘flower root’, but I am open to suggestions or changes if you think soething should change. It mgiht not, because I know hwere this is going and you don’t, but you coudl definitely help!

[tslasvegas]

Episode 4: “I'm sorry Daddy, I've been very naughty.” - Keegan

Dan and JAKE! A WORD IN MY OFFICE PLEASE! WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS.

Wow! Today was A Day to say the least. I feel like boo boo the fool with how things went down today, but hopefully, I can recover from that now that there’s a new tribe. I’m excited to get to know new people, but sad to see my old alliances have to come to an end. I guess we’ll see what happens

Finally a swap and golly 5 OG Palazzo! I really hope this works in our favor. Kinda nervous for Joey and Stephanie tho because now they are in the minority of their tribe. I do hope they’ll find a way to survive till merge

LMFAO IM... watching the tribal council for the other tribe and I'm SORRY??? Who the fuck is Jake S he is the most condescending man I've ever seen in my entire life YIKES. Anyways this swap is nice.. I think I've got a good group, I really hope we win the next few immunities because I 1) really dont want to see Rachael on this tribe and 2) i want to try and rebuild my um. tattered relationships. I did the best I could in the challenge for tonight, I'll try to come back tomorrow a little more renewed cus I'm kinda wiped out from today's events. Now that my tribal council cherry has been popped for this Org its time to go crazy woop

So good not to check Luxor anymore! 

Well last tribal went fine, I got to see what was in the Prize Vault which is awesome; now I have a better idea of the twist. Big problem though- Our swap put me in the minority. I was running Luxor and had a core 4, now they have 5 OG Pink so they can pluck us off, one at a time. I went from drivers seat to getting driven over. We need to win the challenge, so I'm gonna go ham in winterbells and hope to pull it out.

We swapped! I think I made a confessional already, but honestly I don't remember. I gave Livingston some of my chips so he can go visit the vault after the immunity challenge. We'll see what is in there and for how much, and maybe snatch up some real nice items to help us out. I've also got Andrew on my side, which is great and he's apparently quite tight with Pat, which is fantastic. Mo is a pretty decent dude and I've been talking with Jake a lot today. Things are going alright. I just hope we can win this challenge. 

Phew, while the swap was not ideal. I was really liking my tribe, we were kind of quiet but individually everyone was great and we also kicked butt at challenges! Anyway, the swap with numbers wise not great, but I know Xavi from a previous game and we have a solid relationship, I hope he and John and Joey and myself can build a solid squad to make it to the merge. The challenge was rough tbh, I am not great at video games, but I think I did ok... Jaiden got like 20 trillion points on a game so really I have no idea how I did. Hoping for the best!

I am losing my mind in my personal life so I am sorry that I have been mia. I appreciate the patience from the hosts and my tribe. It makes me still want to play even though I've been kinda invisible. I'm aware of that. I'll fix it. I promise. Otherwise, its been pretty good as a tribe so far. Andrew, Pat, and NIk and i are all really close from other games, so we're good and Andrew and Pat and I are together, which is just really unfair if you ask me. I can't wait to start scheming!

Uhhhhhh.................................... anyways........ yall hear somethin? Oh I hear something. It's the sound of Joey literally blowing himself up to me hardcore!!!! The narcissism and arrogance really jumped out on this one. So Joey had the idea of calling tonight to go over some stuff and honestly out of the 2 hours we spent, I think about 45-60 mins of it was rather nice and I do feel that I enjoy his presence, but omg... his desire for control is so noticeable and its kinda gross. Joey and I debriefed on what went down on Bellagio and I totally understand why there was the difference in us discussing tribe dynamics - I had to give up all my info while he kinda kept things more reserved. I want to assume this is because of the fact that I went to tribal and he hasn't until now. I won't judge him for that. However, after this he's kinda like dictating the fact that an OG Bellagio needs to go home. Ben is the easier person to throw under the bus since he didn't even bother to do the challenge/let us know what's up. Not a big fan of that, but aight. Then Joey starts suggesting we vote out Kailyn...?? Uh... not on my watch. I have to make it up to Kailyn at least a little bit so even though she's probably got a loaded gun pointed at my head rn, I want to defuse the situation rather than start throwing her out there as a potential target. Even if it isn't coming from me, I'm not here for that. The information that Joey did give up to me relates to the chips in the game. I've never paid much attention to the chips, but I guess it takes 10 to get into the vault and Joey's got between 11 and 15 (he changed his answer on the subject SEVERAL times). He says there are three idols worth 40 chips each, then a super idol worth I think 50 or 60 (can't remember). On top of that, there are nullifiers, vote advantages, and a legacy advantage, too. He seems fixated on the legacy advantage and really wants the chips to get it. Like.. ok do you but we NEED the super idol?? Does he not realize that thing has more power than anything else in the vault combined..? ANYWAYS. What really started to turn me off about Joey is that there was this sudden expectation that I'd be giving him all of my chips thus far. I don't care about them to begin with but knowing what I know now, it doesn't make sense for me to give him my stash just to fuel his hunt for... a measly legacy advantage... I put myself in a compromising position. I told him that once a host gets back to me on my exact total, I'd be willing to trade him my chips for I guess an allyship going forward. I mean that. I want to work with Joey at least through this vote, but I can't guarantee that it'll go much further than that. He is a very risky person for my game right now because if he's coming off this strong to everybody, it's only going to hurt me by association to stick with him longer than a vote or two. However, I'm going to try and divert the attention and just be like, maybe we need to use my five as a bartering piece for new allies at this point. I want to try and build meaningful partnerships right now, especially since that was the only reason I wanted to make it to the merge.. Rebuilding is crucial as well. Kailyn and possibly Nik/Rachael are not going to be fond of me once we all have "the talk" about last tribal. I put myself in an even more compromising position with them, but I'll find my way out of that mess. I think........ As far as this tribe goes, I think between Joey's WILD imagination/constant over-analyzing and the lack of direction this tribe has taken so far.. I'm doing okay. Nobody is really standing out besides Joey and I guess myself in a way, so if I keep him around it MIGHT even shrink my own target little by little - unless people find out we're together then FUK. 

......five seconds later

In terms of my other relationships right now, I love John Coffey but this is old news, I've been in love with this man since like 2016 and it's fine - totally fine - just fangirling a bit rn since I get to spend more time with him!! woohoo. Xavier and Stephanie are straight up non-entities which makes me SO scared of them especially since Stephanie's won an ORG before... how can someone be so irrelevant yet still win something? Hmm... Makes me think that she's secretly a ninja, you never even see her around. Nik has grown more and more quiet as the days go along and I wonder what's goin' on with that. Maybe they've decided since Biden won the election that moving to New Zealand is a bad idea? Lmfao. I dunno. Nik stresses me the hell out because I have no idea what they're thinking at any point in time even in the off-chance that we are talking. I think I might just have a personality they don't mesh with because I noticed on call forever ago that none of my jokes were particularly landing but Nik had a lot to say and a LOT to joke about there... rip. If it's a personality conflict - go off, I guess. I'll try on a couple different hats w this person to try and see if I can get things to go better than they have been. Kailyn.. like I said before, pretty sure she's after me but I am really trying to sell it to her that I like her a lot, because I do. I literally compare her to my best friend irl because they have very similar attributes and I consider Kailyn kinda messy but fun and quirky like my BFF so I hope that Kailyn did truly appreciate me making that comparison. Ben's inability to do this challenge is going to be his undoing. I think the only acceptable move is to vote him off this time because I HAVE to prove to Kailyn that I can stay the course, and I also need to whittle down Bellagio numbers to prevent people from targeting us and having everything go to shit that way. Let Joey control this, please dear god. Don't let me get blood on my hands. Let Rachael integrate herself well on this tribe. Let someone else blow themselves up in the process. Just not me plz and thanks. There is no fear in my soul tonight. Joey might be a fucking crackhead but so am I. I'm breaking down walls that I didn't think existed but Joey basically told me tonight that he thought I was confrontational, rude, chaotic, and all these other things but was impressed at how calm, optimistic, and outgoing I was. Love to hear it. He might think he overestimated me but he was right about the initial impressions... too bad he won't be around long enough to see that side of me :~) 

FIRSTLY, DeNara was robbed. Okay so I already wrote this a while ago in my host chat about how the fact jake and dan are praying for my downfall because after the swap i am the only og bellagio on a tribe with 5 palazzo and 2 luxor. so after I slowly blinked at my screen for a bit I was like okay how do we survive this if I go to tribal. Because I’m under the impression tribes are gonna stick together especially going into merge but since Luxor is already down so many members it’s kinda Bellagio Vs. Palazzo. but then I was like okay wait I’m the only member of bellagio on this tribe after coming from a tribal so I’m the only one who can say what happened and I can create what narrative I want to help me get through the next couple rounds. Because if I was like oh blah blah I was in majority im so fucked then of course they’re gonna target me to get me out. But if I play the victim card and milk the fact that I voted in the minority acting like I hate my og tribe maybe they’ll think to use me as a pawn. To take down others moving forward. Listen if I have to be labeled a goat to move forward then BAA bitch.

.....five seconds later

Things are going good, because not only am no longer in danger this round but that means Rachael is going to the enemy tribe which if she came to our tribe that might’ve disrupted the narrative I had going of me being against og bellagio. Also DeNara should still be here, don’t think I didn’t clock the fact that Ben scored a 0. I also found out from Andrew that Rachael and Ben are apart of the same Tengaged group which explains why Rachael was so set on Ben staying but like, listen, if I end up in a game with someone I’m friends with, and they’re not active and helping the tribe. Good riddance.

What the. We lost yet again. I have lost everything since the start of the game. It's crazy. There are 4 from Bellagio, 2 Palazzo and 2 Luxor. 2+2 seems like an obvious plan, but it looks like it is falling apart already (read: Joey). Sucks to be across the world, so instead of scheming, I'll be sleeping.

Forgive me father, for I have sinned. is the same as I'm sorry Daddy, I've been very naughty. 

The swap did happen. Expected it. Glad we won this first challenge in this new tribe tho in worried for Stephanie and Joey

Vault Shenanigans - Holy shit I did not expect this to be as powerful as it is. I was preparing myself for some sort of payment based search system, but being able to straight up buy the items I want, but its also the same for other people. I had a misconception at how generous the wheel was so I'm probably behind some people with the amount of chips, but I could very well start scooping up some of the steal votes and just say "see ya" to the idols, although getting a super idol would be very wild, it still seems risky to hold out that long to get it, even though there's a great amount of power associated with it. The other issue with a super idol is that I think that its very likely that if I get into a position where I need to use it, that I lose a lot of respect with the jury if it does happen. The only benefit from actually having it would be that I no longer have to worry about someone else whipping it out, so it'd be less for me wanting it, but more for others not having it. As of now, I think my optimal play is to hold on to my chips until around ~40, and then buy both vote steals at once, OR go all out for the super if someone has already bought an idol by that point, because I would be operating under the assumption that the frontrunner is already out of the running. Tribe Swap Shenanigans - This is a hell of a tribe swap. 5-2-1 is always a great spot to be in, I am already good within the 5 that I have so I don't have to worry about anything there, it should be relatively smooth sailing as far as getting to the merge. Mo/Jake are alright so far, neither particularly speak too much. Kevin has not reached out at all, probably will try to talk to him tonight for general purposes, even if he seems like he'd be an easy one to get out first should we go to tribal the next time. But generally I really don't plan on losing so it's kind of a wash. I'll take the smooth sailing, easy path to merge. Premerge is never as relevant as merge is when it comes to FTC as long as you have something to show for yourself at the merge. I've got all game to make my presence known, and I plan on using the entirety of the game to do so.

I feel super anxious today because even though I had a great conversation and built a good connection to Joey, there hasn't been any talk about the vote quite yet. I mean obviously names have rolled out but nothing solid is out there still, I think I just need to let go of the urgency for a name to start being spread early on and just let things be. Stephanie and I have been chatting a bit here and there today so I feel more comfortable with her and hopefully she sees things from a similar perspective as everyone else - the Bellagio foursome needs to get broken up right now. As long as it's not my name of course!!!!! Plz vote Ben @everyone. Or Kailyn tbh save me a little bit of trouble now. Talking to Xavier is SO HARD LMAO. He doesn't immediately contribute information into a conversation and as bad as I wanna get rid of Ben, I almost..almost think going for Xavier is the smarter move, since Xavier doesn't seem too motivated to actually get to know ME and work with me. I'm selfish that way. Kailyn doesn't seem like she wants to do Ben which is a little frustrating but I totally get it, if Ben stays he's going to go after her hardcore but like she needs to actually pitch me an alternative lmfao. I don't wanna go bending over backwards just to appease her right now so if she doesn't gimme a name.. sorry sis but then I think it's gonna be Joey's call on this one :/

I am being very cautious now. The 4 of us (me, John, Joey and Steph) are going to vote together. Now Jaiden wants to vote Nik. And Kailyn wants to vote Ben. Why can't we just agree on one?! And it always has to go down to the wire. Stick together, people!

I think I am possibly leading the charge against Nik rn?? Joey told me he wanted Ben and then I told him I wanted Nik and now he wants Nik LOL take that Stephen 

Okay well I have no idea what's going to happen tonight, but I'm going into tribal not afraid of the vote I am probably going to have to make ... I think the best move is to just vote for Nik and be done with it, but it's going to cause a serious rift in a lot of my relationships if I do so. I've been super wishy-washy to a lot of people I think and right now it doesn't make sense to continuously do one thing when I mean another.. especially since there seems to be zero ground to move upon when it comes to getting the vote to turn from Nik to Ben. Nik doesn't even SEEM ACTIVE?? Why are we making this a bigger deal than it needs to be. Ben can't just walk around deciding what's going on and I think Kailyn would prefer to keep Nik around rather than Ben but it's like... so push for Ben to be the target hun! She's feeding into someone else's move no matter what she does, it's either Ben's agenda or John's agenda. Pick a side, but pick the side I'm on, too. Why don't we just vote for Kailyn tbh. lmao

[thewhumperinwhite]

Café: Gas Station

Previous: Teaser 1, Teaser 2, Hospital/Squad Car, Empty Bar, Used Car Lot 1, Used Car Lot 2

TW for: referenced domestic abuse, traumatic flashback caused by past abuse

@whumpitywhumpwhump

They’re ten miles outside of the city by the time they run out of gas.

“I can’t fucking believe we’re stopping already,” Sol says, frowning out the window. The rain has turned into a thick white fog that hangs low over the road and makes the lights of the gas station smoky and indistinct.

“Not my fault you picked a car with only half a tank,” Paxon sing-songs, but when Sol turns to glare at them he sees that their shoulders are tight and their hands are sort of white-knuckled on the steering wheel.

“Do you think it’s safe here?” Kent asks from the back seat, and Sol turns back to frown at him. He fell asleep almost the second they started driving, his bruised forehead resting against his window in a way that seems like it must hurt, and Sol is--a little more worried about him than he wants to admit, maybe.

He looks--pretty awful, Sol thinks. Well, they both do, really, but like, Kent looks especially awful.

“Should be,” Pax says brightly, and pops their car door open like there’s not a thing in the world to be afraid of, though Sol notes that they’re very quick to open the backseat driver’s side door and pick up their sword from where they put it when they climbed in. “The bleeders don’t spread that fast, so I’d be pretty surprised if they’ve made it this far already.”

Without really meaning to, Sol exchanges a worried look with Kent. Kent bites his lip, looking— a little afraid.

Sol has a sudden, insane desire to reach out and ruffle Kent’s hair and tell him it’s all gonna be okay, which he mashes down inside himself with savage force.

“Hey,” Sol calls, crawling over into Paxon’s vacated seat and rolling down the window, “don’t you think it’s gonna be a little suspicious if somebody sees you pumping gas while wearing a huge fuckin’ sword, genius?”

“Like you’d be brave enough to complain about it,” Paxon says sweetly. “You guys wanna go buy somethin’ from the store? Advil or something, at least? You’re lookin’ a little green around the gills, sunshine.” Sol notes with some annoyance but no surprise that their voice is a lot less snide when they’re talking to Kent, which— tracks, honestly.

“No, that’s alright,” Kent says softly. “We wouldn’t want to leave you all by yourself out here.”

Surprised, Paxon turns back to look at Kent, and Kent holds their gaze with an expression Sol can’t read for the life of him— but it seems to make Paxon uncomfortable.

“Uh— yeah,” they say, with an awkward laugh, and turn back to watch the pump, fidgeting. “We’ll— all go in together, then. I could use some coffee if we’re gonna keep driving.”

Sol looks from Kent’s unreadable expression to Paxon’s tight, uncomfortable-looking back, confused. “Uh— what the hell was that?”

Kent’s face clears immediately, and he gives Sol a smile. It’s— kind of unsettling, actually. “What was what?” he asks, and sounds for all the world like he’s honestly confused.

“Uh— “ Maybe he’s imagining things, and nothing significant passed between them after all. Sol shakes his head. “Nothing, I guess.” He frowns at Paxon’s back— they’ve swung their sword back over their shoulder, like it was when he first saw them. “You’re not really gonna go into a convenience store with that thing, are you?”

Paxon fishes around in the pockets of the hideous pink motorcycle jacket they’ve got on under their equally-hideous poncho. “Guess I am,” they say lightly, though their cheer sounds even more forced this time. “Sunshine’s right— we would stick together, us three.”

As they say this they turn back to tip Sol a wink over their shoulder. Rolling his eyes, he relaxes a little. Guess it was my imagination after all.

Apparently, the “bleeders” have not reached this little highway gas station yet. On the bright side, that means nobody suddenly gnawing on his arm as they walk through the parking lot. On the downside, boy do they get funny looks from the front desk clerk, who seems to be debating whether he should kick them out or not.

Kent flushes under his bruises and tries to absolutely no effect to rearrange his blood-caked bangs, but Paxon just shoots the clerk a wide scarred grin and bids him a cheerful ‘good evening,’ and the clerk quails under Paxon’s gaze and apparently decides it isn’t worth it.

Despite Paxon’s assertion that they should ‘stick together,’ he and Kent almost immediately dart off in separate directions— Paxon to the coffee machine, Kent to the pharmaceuticals aisle. Sol is torn for a second between his desire to keep a sharp eye on Paxon at all times and the need to make sure that Kent, who is not exactly steady on his feet, doesn’t keel over, and he— isn’t sure how to feel about the fact that it’s the second impulse that wins out. Keeping close on Kent’s heels, Sol compensates by glancing over his shoulder at Paxon. 

Paxon, noticing, pauses in the act of dispensing coffee to raise an eyebrow and waggle their fingers at him. He flips them off.

“Hey, Sol,” Kent says in a low voice, as they reach the aisle filled with over-the-counter pain killers and also chewing gum, for whatever reason. “Are you doing okay?”

Sol stares at Kent, whose entire torso seems to be made out of bruises. “Are— are you fucking kidding me, man?”

“Your wrist, I mean,” Kent says, gesturing at the offending limb. It’s gone sort of purple and is swelling a little, and Sol doesn’t mind admitting to himself that wow it does hurt a lot. “You hurt it when you were fighting— didn’t you?”

Sol was kind of hoping Kent hadn’t noticed. He looks away, shuffling his feet. “It’s no big deal. I didn’t even notice, in the moment.” That much is true, anyway— he was too pumped full of adrenaline to even register the pressure he was putting on the recently-relocated bones until they’d already been in the truck, at which point he’d had to fight pretty hard not to cry in front of Paxon Fields— but Kent was asleep by that point, anyway.

Kent gives him a look that says pretty clearly how much of Sol’s bullshit he’s buying, and reaches for a box labeled Motrin.

He freezes before his fingers touch it, though, and his face goes totally blank, like someone has just hit his ‘off’ switch.

“Uh—” Sol reaches out for his shoulder.

Smiling, Kent moves just out of Sol’s reach, like he’s trying to be subtle about it. “Sorry,” he says, a little too loudly, and grabs a box of Advil, instead. “This should help with the swelling,” he says, pressing it into Sol’s good hand— the one he reached out with.

“Uh, yeah, thanks,” Sol mumbles, frowning down at the box, which is the same damn medication as the first one, and Kent smiles at him brightly for another second before turning to wander back over toward Paxon.

Sol tries to ignore the uneasy fluttering in his stomach. Because— goddamn, he has way bigger things to worry about than Kent Graves’s mental wellbeing.

Maybe it was a mistake to come with him, Sol thinks, miserably.

——

Sol is still staring down at the box of Advil Kent handed him, and Paxon is preoccupied with pouring far too much sugar into their coffee, so Kent takes a second to press his hand over his mouth and close his eyes.

He thinks of the first time he ran to his mother, after his father’s fist sent him crashing to the ground. She’d smiled, and dabbed at the blood on his face with a tissue, and told him that everybody lost their baby teeth sooner or later. And when he told her that it hurt, she handed him painkillers.

She didn’t even notice the first time he hit Chase, so it had been Kent’s turn to pass along the lie

(it’s alright, it just happens sometimes when he gets angry)

and climb up to the top shelf for the Motrin.

Chase— 

(IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT!)

Kent runs a finger over his scar and forces a smile back onto his face. Because he’s alright. He can do this, if only because he has to. He’ll get to St. Ben’s, and then— 

Well. He guesses Sol will know the whole thing, then. That thought turns his stomach even more than he expects it to.

Maybe it was a mistake to let him come.

——

Pax doesn’t actually like coffee, which is why they’re currently stirring their third packet of sugar into the cup; but it’s a hell of a lot cheaper than any of the energy drinks and they have a feeling neither of their two freeloaders possesses a penny to their names, which means they better start saying up.

...Okay, maybe ‘freeloaders’ isn’t really fair.

This, they’re starting to realize, might be a little bit harder than they thought it would be.

Solemn Michaelis, whatever else he might be, is at least easy as hell to read— he doesn’t trust Pax, and probably never will unless Pax really works at it, which they aren’t sure they need to bother with. In fact, he said as much, when he shepherded Kent into the back seat and climbed into the passenger seat himself.

“Boy, I’m flattered,” Pax said, grinning. “Didn’t expect you to be so eager to sit with me!”

And Sol said, “Fuck you. I just wanna be right here if you try anything funny, asshole. Kent might be dumb enough to trust you,” (he said this very loudly, and Kent serenely ignored him) “but I sure as hell don’t.”

And then he proceeded to glare at Pax for the first twenty minutes of the car ride. Which is fine. Pax doesn’t need Solemn to like them, particularly.

Which brings them around nicely to Kent Graves, who was nothing but polite and courteous to Pax until he went quite peacefully to sleep in the backseat, which had of course led Pax to dismiss him as a bit of an idiot.

Which. Is actually a little embarrassing, now.

Because all he had to say was that he didn’t one to leave Pax on their own, and Pax immediately saw what he really meant, which was— well, he didn’t trust Pax either. And Pax hadn’t noticed that at all until just now, and they were fairly certain the only reason they knew how he felt now was because Kent Graves wanted them to know.

Maybe it was a mistake to take him with, Pax thinks, taking a sip of sickly-sweet coffee.

[clexa--warrior]

Season 5 of Fear the Walking Dead was a rough one for the characters on screen. They started off filled with hopes about providing hope and help to those in desperate need of both, but by the end of the season had been conquered and divided by Ginny’s group — with the last scene showing a shot Morgan lying down alone as hungry-looking zombies descended upon him.

It was a rough one for some fans as well, who complained about the plot and pacing of a season that appeared to have less impact, tension, and drive than those that preceded it. But is that all part of a grander plan? In the fourth and final part of our Walking Dead franchise overview discussion with chief content officer Scott M. Gimple, we spoke about the criticism of season 5, what’s in store for season 6 (including what sounds like a time jump at some point), and news of even more Walking Dead content coming our way. (Also read part 1 of our interview about the Rick Grimes movies here, part 2 about The Walking Dead: World Beyond right here, and part 3 about The Walking Dead having no timetable for ending.)

ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY: There was some pretty critical takes out there about season 5 of Fear the Walking Dead. When you look back on that season now, what’s your take on it? Is there anything you feel didn’t work as well as you had hoped, or was this just part of this plan and this is a stretch of this plan that you need to go through to get to somewhere else?                           

SCOTT M. GIMPLE: Right there. You just said it. We’ve been lucky enough on that show to be able to do these long-range plans. Season 5 was about setting up this journey that these characters are on through there to season 6, and I think people are going to see the relationship between those two seasons. I think even getting to the very end of season 5, the last few moments, really informing that whole season about reaching for benevolence and reaching for sweetness and art and just life and how in the circumstances they’re in, it didn’t work, and how we leave a person that put that forward isolated, alone, bleeding in a dead town.

I’m curious how people will watch that season in the future. Season 2 [of The Walking Dead], when we did it, we were assailed in a lot of ways. “Why are they on the farm? Why are doing this? Why are they doing that?” I think in subsequent years, people watching that season had different takes. This season 5 as a piece setting up season 6 into a truly serialized entertainment, I think people might see the relationship and the journey, why the journey went the way it did. I was so happy with the way that everybody did. I think it really did come together in the end in this really tragic way that we couldn’t have gotten to without the journey that we had been on.

It’s funny you mention season 2 of TWD, because I remember the complaints during that, but as soon as the barn doors opened, everyone was like, “Oh, okay. Yeah, right. Well, that was worth it.”                           

It was cumulative. I think everybody’s opinion is … as long as their opinion is come to honestly, nobody’s opinion is wrong. It’s how they feel about what they consume. But the one aspect that could potentially temper it is just taking the whole of it together. It is asking a lot of the audience to do that though. It’s an interesting thing that we face, and if you look at The Mandalorian, you look at a lot of shows on Hulu, and I think what Disney+ is now going to be doing, they are showing shows week to week. It is interesting, it’s a challenge that I think people will continue to have because the story might not go the way the audience wants it in the short term, but it’s all towards telling this grander story for them in the long term. I hope that anybody who had an issue with it can see this upcoming season and see how that led to this, because it was always the plan, to tell a story of some serious contrasts.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      How much do you pay attention or modify or pivot because of critical feedback?                           

It’s a tricky thing because, again, as long as somebody is coming at their opinion having watched the show, and as long as they have an open mind to start with, anybody’s opinion is valid. One of the reasons I don’t read them is because it’s endless. It’s not, “Okay, I’m going to read this person, this person, but I’m not going to read the other 15 articles, and these people have the mic.” It’s not quite fair, nor do I think it’s storytelling with integrity to just seek out what peoples criticisms are and address those criticisms without looking at the whole of the audience. And does online criticism represent the entirety of the audience? It is the same sort of demographics that are issuing those criticisms that are watching TV, just as far as their interests or their history with the show or any of those things.

And it works both ways. People are saying awesome things about the show. I also don’t think it’s like reading that and be like, “Ah yes, nailed it.” I don’t think that’s fair either. It’s a tricky thing because I don’t want the feeling that we’re ignoring it, but also I don’t think it’s wise if you print them all out and try to address everything. It’s just not telling a story with integrity. I mean would we have told [episodes 905 and 906 of The Walking Dead] the way that we did if we were just full of worries, if we were just trying to make sure that we weren’t taking a risk and ensuring that everybody in every sort of quarter would be happy with it, with the outcome, with Rick going? Which was happening either way, by the way.

So how do you decide in terms of when to creatively pivot or change course?                           

I truly believe that it is our job as storytellers to take risks, to do the unexpected and not just to shock people. I want to take stories in different directions than that have gone before. In taking those risks, the only thing you’re risking is the audience’s interests or their opinion of you. There’s a lot of people out there who don’t want to do that, who just want to go down the center path and ensure that there’s nothing for the audience to be upset with them about. If you’re truly serving the audience, if you truly care about the audience, if you’re trying to give them something different, you have to take risks.

I know it can be hard, and I know that people can be upset and you don’t want to upset people, you don’t want to make people sad in perpetuity, but you also don’t want to just give them a story where you didn’t try your best to do something special, unusual, something that they might remember the rest of their lives. If we’re not taking risks, we’re not serving the audience, we’re just serving ourselves. We’re just serving, making sure that no one’s upset with us. To really serve the audience, you got to put your neck out there. I’m very proud of these showrunners who have been taking incredible risks, and I’ve been standing right beside them every step of the way with it and sometimes pushing those risks forward very, very much myself.

It’s actually the thing I like most about the franchise. Even when you guys were pulling in the most insane numbers in the history of television on TWD, you were still doing crazy stuff you would never expect such a popular show to be doing. You mentioned that obviously this is all leading to season 6. What can you say at this point about what you all have planned creatively for season 6 on Fear?                          

I don’t know how much has been shared yet, but I’ll share a little of it unilaterally. Structurally, the show is going to change quite a bit. There’s going to be a great deal more focus within the stories, a little less vignette-y in telling 16 little movies. The guys are out of the gate wonderfully with the first two episodes, and it is a differentiating thing. It’s something that separates that show from the other two shows, telling these 16 little movies, being a bit more anthological. It still is a serialized story, but it’s told through these very focused perspectives.

I think that’s going to be something that the audience really digs. There’s these episodes like Al and Isabelle or June and Dorie that were super focused episodes, that were some of our favorite stories to tell, and we’re leaning into that a little more. That’s something that’s very exciting. Just what these characters are dealing with is very unusual to anything we’ve seen on the shows. Last season, there was a singularity of purpose, which is all these characters landed in this place of needing redemption. These characters are going to be in very different places now, and that’s going to add to the variety of storytelling, the conflict between the characters and the drama that springs forth from that.

I was talking to your showrunners Ian Goldberg and Andrew Chambliss about that — how interesting it was that the end of season 4 was all about everyone finally coming together, and now at the end of season 5 you split everyone apart.                           

That was after they couldn’t have been more together, and more on the same page — really just going down the same path completely. They’re on a lot of different paths now, and that creates problems and it creates these very intense reunions. It just sort of widens our frame quite a bit, all these different perspectives telling all these different stories.

When you talk about intense reunions, could one of those intense reunions involve Sherry?                           

It could. It’s a pretty determined character. You never know. You don’t want me to say for sure.

Because I asked if the Commonwealth was part of the CRM, what about this group of Ginny’s that took everyone. Are they related to the CRM?                           

They are not. That’s an example, like when we talk about the Commonwealth, when we talk about Ginny — that is a rich and interesting story, and it’s big. We can have World Beyond touch upon it and actually sort of be living in it, and yet it still has this very, very different life in the movies because obviously Rick was on one of those helicopters. However big that story is, we don’t want that to be the story of The Walking Dead. I think that stuff is going to be super cool and people are going to dig it, but The Walking Dead is The Walking Dead and Fear the Walking Dead is Fear the Walking Dead. It’s not like they might not touch upon it again, but it’s super important that they have their own stories. We are developing other mythologies like the CRM mythology within this universe, and this is sort of the first mythology, but there’s going to be more.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                Do you envision a time jump on Fear to get it more in line with the other shows in terms of timeframe or not?                           

That is something we’re playing around with for the future, and time is actually going to be played around with on this season of Fear the Walking Dead. Yeah, who knows? I would love to get to be like Crisis on Infinite Earths. That would be super cool, but that’s way down the line.

When you say time is going to be played with on next season of Fear, what do you mean?                           

We’re going to see a lot of time pass. There is a lot of time that can pass, yeah.

I don’t know how you could have time for anything else while doing all these shows and the movies, but in terms of other forms, formats, video games, whatever — are there are other things percolating in the Walking Dead universe, even if it’s down the line more?                           

Oh, absolutely. We’re working on a big push of something I was working on originally and then I got much more focused on the shows in my first year on this job and developing World Beyond and getting the movie going. We really do want to come out with different TV formats, meaning shorter things, and then some event series, limited event series. I’m trying to get together a number of different things that we can show at different times during the year, and this focuses on characters we miss and we lost. It focuses on aspects of that new mythology. It focuses on stories that occur in our universe and have nothing to do with anything. Nothing to do with the shows or the movies, that are just these little zombie tales that happen in our world with our rules and our timeline but are just really great zombie stories, really great stories of the end of the world. I’ve been working on that with a variety of people, and that’s actually proving to be super fun and interesting.

What about filling in some backstories for characters and characters maybe that have already died along the way on Walking Dead or other shows?                           

That’s exactly what we’re doing. I mean, it isn’t the only thing we’re doing. It’s not like everything is like Gotham, but that’s one of the sort of three kind of categories that we’re tackling. It’s awesome. It’s awesome to be able to play with characters that we’ve lost, and it’s awesome to fill in some of the blanks.

[dailyfeartwdgifs]

Fear the Walking Dead has a time jump coming in season 6: Scott M. Gimple also teases plans for upcoming TWD event series “Structurally, the show is going to change quite a bit. There’s going to be a great deal more focus within the stories, a little less vignette-y in telling 16 little movies. The guys are out of the gate wonderfully with the first two episodes, and it is a differentiating thing. It’s something that separates that show from the other two shows, telling these 16 little movies, being a bit more anthological.”   

Season 5 of Fear the Walking Dead was a rough one for the characters on screen. They started off filled with hopes about providing hope and help to those in desperate need of both, but by the end of the season had been conquered and divided by Ginny’s group — with the last scene showing a shot Morgan lying down alone as hungry-looking zombies descended upon him. 

It was a rough one for some fans as well, who complained about the plot and pacing of a season that appeared to have less impact, tension, and drive than those that preceded it. But is that all part of a grander plan? In the fourth and final part of our Walking Dead franchise overview discussion with chief content officer Scott M. Gimple, we spoke about the criticism of season 5, what’s in store for season 6 (including what sounds like a time jump at some point), and news of even more Walking Dead content coming our way. 

ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY: There was some pretty critical takes out there about season 5 of Fear the Walking Dead. When you look back on that season now, what’s your take on it? Is there anything you feel didn’t work as well as you had hoped, or was this just part of this plan and this is a stretch of this plan that you need to go through to get to somewhere else? 

SCOTT M. GIMPLE: Right there. You just said it. We’ve been lucky enough on that show to be able to do these long-range plans. Season 5 was about setting up this journey that these characters are on through there to season 6, and I think people are going to see the relationship between those two seasons. I think even getting to the very end of season 5, the last few moments, really informing that whole season about reaching for benevolence and reaching for sweetness and art and just life and how in the circumstances they’re in, it didn’t work, and how we leave a person that put that forward isolated, alone, bleeding in a dead town. 

I’m curious how people will watch that season in the future. Season 2 [of The Walking Dead], when we did it, we were assailed in a lot of ways. “Why are they on the farm? Why are doing this? Why are they doing that?” I think in subsequent years, people watching that season had different takes. This season 5 as a piece setting up season 6 into a truly serialized entertainment, I think people might see the relationship and the journey, why the journey went the way it did. I was so happy with the way that everybody did. I think it really did come together in the end in this really tragic way that we couldn’t have gotten to without the journey that we had been on. 

EW: It’s funny you mention season 2 of TWD, because I remember the complaints during that, but as soon as the barn doors opened, everyone was like, “Oh, okay. Yeah, right. Well, that was worth it.” 

SG: It was cumulative. I think everybody’s opinion is … as long as their opinion is come to honestly, nobody’s opinion is wrong. It’s how they feel about what they consume. But the one aspect that could potentially temper it is just taking the whole of it together. It is asking a lot of the audience to do that though. It’s an interesting thing that we face, and if you look at The Mandalorian, you look at a lot of shows on Hulu, and I think what Disney+ is now going to be doing, they are showing shows week to week. It is interesting, it’s a challenge that I think people will continue to have because the story might not go the way the audience wants it in the short term, but it’s all towards telling this grander story for them in the long term. I hope that anybody who had an issue with it can see this upcoming season and see how that led to this, because it was always the plan, to tell a story of some serious contrasts. 

EW: How much do you pay attention or modify or pivot because of critical feedback? 

SG: It’s a tricky thing because, again, as long as somebody is coming at their opinion having watched the show, and as long as they have an open mind to start with, anybody’s opinion is valid. One of the reasons I don’t read them is because it’s endless. It’s not, “Okay, I’m going to read this person, this person, but I’m not going to read the other 15 articles, and these people have the mic.” It’s not quite fair, nor do I think it’s storytelling with integrity to just seek out what peoples criticisms are and address those criticisms without looking at the whole of the audience. And does online criticism represent the entirety of the audience? It is the same sort of demographics that are issuing those criticisms that are watching TV, just as far as their interests or their history with the show or any of those things. 

And it works both ways. People are saying awesome things about the show. I also don’t think it’s like reading that and be like, “Ah yes, nailed it.” I don’t think that’s fair either. It’s a tricky thing because I don’t want the feeling that we’re ignoring it, but also I don’t think it’s wise if you print them all out and try to address everything. It’s just not telling a story with integrity. I mean would we have told [episodes 905 and 906 of The Walking Dead] the way that we did if we were just full of worries, if we were just trying to make sure that we weren’t taking a risk and ensuring that everybody in every sort of quarter would be happy with it, with the outcome, with Rick going? Which was happening either way, by the way. 

EW: So how do you decide in terms of when to creatively pivot or change course? 

SG: I truly believe that it is our job as storytellers to take risks, to do the unexpected and not just to shock people. I want to take stories in different directions than that have gone before. In taking those risks, the only thing you’re risking is the audience’s interests or their opinion of you. There’s a lot of people out there who don’t want to do that, who just want to go down the center path and ensure that there’s nothing for the audience to be upset with them about. If you’re truly serving the audience, if you truly care about the audience, if you’re trying to give them something different, you have to take risks. 

I know it can be hard, and I know that people can be upset and you don’t want to upset people, you don’t want to make people sad in perpetuity, but you also don’t want to just give them a story where you didn’t try your best to do something special, unusual, something that they might remember the rest of their lives. If we’re not taking risks, we’re not serving the audience, we’re just serving ourselves. We’re just serving, making sure that no one’s upset with us. To really serve the audience, you got to put your neck out there. I’m very proud of these showrunners who have been taking incredible risks, and I’ve been standing right beside them every step of the way with it and sometimes pushing those risks forward very, very much myself.

EW: It’s actually the thing I like most about the franchise. Even when you guys were pulling in the most insane numbers in the history of television on TWD, you were still doing crazy stuff you would never expect such a popular show to be doing. You mentioned that obviously this is all leading to season 6. What can you say at this point about what you all have planned creatively for season 6 on Fear? 

SG: I don’t know how much has been shared yet, but I’ll share a little of it unilaterally. Structurally, the show is going to change quite a bit. There’s going to be a great deal more focus within the stories, a little less vignette-y in telling 16 little movies. The guys are out of the gate wonderfully with the first two episodes, and it is a differentiating thing. It’s something that separates that show from the other two shows, telling these 16 little movies, being a bit more anthological. It still is a serialized story, but it’s told through these very focused perspectives. 

I think that’s going to be something that the audience really digs. There’s these episodes like Al and Isabelle or June and Dorie that were super focused episodes, that were some of our favorite stories to tell, and we’re leaning into that a little more. That’s something that’s very exciting. Just what these characters are dealing with is very unusual to anything we’ve seen on the shows. Last season, there was a singularity of purpose, which is all these characters landed in this place of needing redemption. These characters are going to be in very different places now, and that’s going to add to the variety of storytelling, the conflict between the characters and the drama that springs forth from that. 

EW: I was talking to your showrunners Ian Goldberg and Andrew Chambliss about that — how interesting it was that the end of season 4 was all about everyone finally coming together, and now at the end of season 5 you split everyone apart. 

SG: That was after they couldn’t have been more together, and more on the same page — really just going down the same path completely. They’re on a lot of different paths now, and that creates problems and it creates these very intense reunions. It just sort of widens our frame quite a bit, all these different perspectives telling all these different stories. 

EW: When you talk about intense reunions, could one of those intense reunions involve Sherry? 

SG: It could. It’s a pretty determined character. You never know. You don’t want me to say for sure. 

EW: Because I asked if the Commonwealth was part of the CRM, what about this group of Ginny’s that took everyone. Are they related to the CRM? 

SG: They are not. That’s an example, like when we talk about the Commonwealth, when we talk about Ginny — that is a rich and interesting story, and it’s big. We can have World Beyond touch upon it and actually sort of be living in it, and yet it still has this very, very different life in the movies because obviously Rick was on one of those helicopters. However big that story is, we don’t want that to be the story of The Walking Dead. I think that stuff is going to be super cool and people are going to dig it, but The Walking Dead is The Walking Dead and Fear the Walking Dead is Fear the Walking Dead. It’s not like they might not touch upon it again, but it’s super important that they have their own stories. We are developing other mythologies like the CRM mythology within this universe, and this is sort of the first mythology, but there’s going to be more. 

EW: Do you envision a time jump on Fear to get it more in line with the other shows in terms of timeframe or not? 

SG: That is something we’re playing around with for the future, and time is actually going to be played around with on this season of Fear the Walking Dead. Yeah, who knows? I would love to get to be like Crisis on Infinite Earths. That would be super cool, but that’s way down the line.

EW: When you say time is going to be played with on next season of Fear, what do you mean? 

SG: We’re going to see a lot of time pass. There is a lot of time that can pass, yeah. 

EW: I don’t know how you could have time for anything else while doing all these shows and the movies, but in terms of other forms, formats, video games, whatever — are there are other things percolating in the Walking Dead universe, even if it’s down the line more? 

SG: Oh, absolutely. We’re working on a big push of something I was working on originally and then I got much more focused on the shows in my first year on this job and developing World Beyond and getting the movie going. We really do want to come out with different TV formats, meaning shorter things, and then some event series, limited event series. I’m trying to get together a number of different things that we can show at different times during the year, and this focuses on characters we miss and we lost. It focuses on aspects of that new mythology. It focuses on stories that occur in our universe and have nothing to do with anything. Nothing to do with the shows or the movies, that are just these little zombie tales that happen in our world with our rules and our timeline but are just really great zombie stories, really great stories of the end of the world. I’ve been working on that with a variety of people, and that’s actually proving to be super fun and interesting. 

EW: What about filling in some backstories for characters and characters maybe that have already died along the way on Walking Dead or other shows? 

SG: That’s exactly what we’re doing. I mean, it isn’t the only thing we’re doing. It’s not like everything is like Gotham, but that’s one of the sort of three kind of categories that we’re tackling. It’s awesome. It’s awesome to be able to play with characters that we’ve lost, and it’s awesome to fill in some of the blanks.

[pokesception]

Whelp, started playing pokemon sword.  Have complained quite a bit here about dexit & related issues, and honestly I would have skipped at least the initial versions of these games entirely, or at least held off on purchasing them until we could see just how egregious pokemon home will be.  But my brother got shield, and my problems with sword and shield are not so severe that I’m going to refuse to play a game with family.

Thoughts so far?  Setting dexit entirely aside it’s... another pokemon game, for better and worse.  Largely for the better.  The new monsters, at least those I’ve encountered so far, are fun and good.  Music is nice.  Tone is bright and cheerful.  I love my team, and my protagonist.  It’s been nice.

As expected going to a more powerful console, it looks better, but it’s not a huge jump from the 3ds games, not least because lot of the visuals of this game are ported over directly from those games, and the stuff that is new has been made so as to not clash aesthetically with the older stuff.  If you’ve seen mods of usum that display the games at higher res and without the black outlines, it’s very much like that.  Closer to that even than to the let’s go games in ways that I find difficult to articulate.  In and of itself that’s not a complaint, really, the game looks plenty good enough for a pokemon tame.  It’s just not a major leap forward in presentation like the leap from gen 5 to gen 6 was.

Gameplay is mostly what you might expect.  Tall grass battles are an interesting mix of pokemon you can see on the field and engage or avoid as you wish and random battles that appear in the grass.  The random fights appear as a rustling in the grass that again can be pursued or avoided, you just can’t tell what they’ll be before you bump into them.  Finding rarer pokemon in a route is often a matter of sneaking or dashing between the new pokemon to get to the random fight, then crossing your fingers and hoping for the pokemon you want.  I’m not sure if there’s deeper levels to it, like chaining or whatever.  At the surface level it’s engaging enough.

The new pokemon are great so far.  There’s a bunch early on that you won’t have seen if you avoided leaks, and that was really excited.  I went into gen 7 knowing every new pokemon and with a particular desired team all worked out in advance.  This time around I’ve avoided spoilers, and gamefreaks official previews have kept a lot more hidden, so it’s been really fun to meet a lot of cool new faces early on.

The game does let you skip some early tutorials, but still frustrates to no end by stopping you every three seconds for another unnecessary explanation or detour, so it’s still pokemon in that unfortunate regard.  Routes are, if anything, more linear than ever before, at least early on, with the exception of an early expedition through the wild area which... I’ll talk about later.

Experience share is always on and cannot be turned off.  It scales shared xp based on the level of the pokemon, with lower level pokemon getting a higher portion, but not by enough so it’s still a pain to keep everything in the same level range, and you’ll still probably be wildly over leveled from very early on with nary a challenge to be seen even if you try to avoid grinding.

You can access the box from anywhere, which can be used to help overcome both the maintaining-a-level-range and over leveling problems of the experience share, but it’s a hassle to do, and wouldn’t be necessary if you could just toggle off shared exp in the options menu.  And on another level it makes the game even easier, since attrition is much less of a problem when you can swap in fresh pokemon whenever you feel like.

The online functionality is... kind of bad.  Maybe it’s just my internet, but being online in the wild area causes all sorts of slowdown.  Worse, there’s no equivalent to the pss functionality from gen 6.  No way to just see which of your switch friends are online and directly offer to trade or battle with them.  No instead you have to contact them *outside of the game* to share a 4 digit password, and then hope that nobody else happens to be using the same password as you when you try to connect with each other.  Raid battles are neat, but infuriatingly use the same password hassle.  You can’t just have easy friend-only raids from within the game itself.

It’s marginally better then gen 7′s festival plaza, but it remains miles and miles behind gen 6′s pss system that was simple and intuitive, and just centuries ahead of anything that came before or after.

Apart from raid battles, the wild area is... interesting?  Not all that different from having just a really big route with subareas of various level ranges.  Not bad, but not as big a departure as I had made it out to be in my head.  An idea with some potential that future games might expand into something great but that, knowing this series, will just be dropped after a single generation instead.  I’m still pretty early in the game, so my opinion on it might change after returning to it later.

The biggest frustration of the wild area, and something that brings it down tremendously, is that while you can encounter, and with some effort defeat, pokemon there, you cannot catch them at all if they’re above an arbitrary level range set by your number of gym badges.  This runs so completely counter to everything almost good about the wild area that I basically swore the whole thing off until I get to the end of the game, and frankly they might as well have just made it a post game area at that rate.

It’s extra frustrating because the problem of a player getting access to a pokemon too strong for the game too early on is one that the pokemon games already solved infinitely more elegantly all the way back in gen 1!  Just make pokemon that you acquire at too high a level uncontrollable, exactly like traded pokemon, so you can catch that over leveled onyx or whatever, but can’t use it until you’ve progressed far enough in the game for it not to be over leveled anymore.  How hard is that?  And who cares if a player gets an over powered pokemon early and steam rolls the game?  If that’s how the player wants to play, why is it a problem?  It’s not like the main game is challenging to begin with, thanks to always on exp share its almost impossible not to have over leveled pokemon anyway, what does it matter if it’s because you caught them that way or because they just outleveled the game curve?  A better exp scaling system would fix all those problems anyway.

Pokemon games not only failing to progress and solve problems that return game after game, but also repeatedly forgetting solutions that the series has already implemented is the longest running and most frustrating and most justified complaint to level at the entire series.  Of course, in the past pokemon as a series always had one core feature that none of the other - often more innovative - monster hunting games that sprang up in its shadow could replicate.  Backwards compatibility, the ability to maintain your collection in full going forward from generation to generation in a chain unbroken since gen 3 on game boy advance.  And that’s where dexit puts a sour note on the whole business.

The last several pokemon generations have failed to significantly improve on the core gameplay of a nearly two decade old franchise, but for many that has been largely forgiven because each new generation could easily be viewed not as stand alone games but rather as major expansions to the same existing game.  Dexit breaks from that, and forces the new games to be viewed as stand alone games and... well they aren’t pad at all.  They’re still cute.  I’m having fun so far.  Sword and Shield is no Anthem, no Fallout 76, no singular disaster to turn an otherwise largely positive track record on its head, and the extreme negativity directed against the game has been way overstated, even probably by myself.  In particular any vitriol directed at the devs is almost certainly unwarranted, the problems that have been growing in the pokemon series generation after generation almost certainly come down to corporate decisionmaking way above the heads of anyone who actually *worked* on the game.

Still, now that gamefreak’s pattern of cutting progressively more and more corners has reached the point of cutting actual pokemon, it’s shouldn’t be surprising that a lot of people who had been giving all those issues a pass suddenly aren’t anymore.

And while pokemon sword and shield isn’t a bad game, it’s hard to compare it to something like oras or usum and say it’s worth 50% more up front cost AND an added monthly subscription to access features like GTS that used to be just part of the game to begin with.

The dex cuts would have been more forgivable if the games had been a major leap forward, whether in graphics or gameplay.  Monster Hunter World, for instance, had /dramatically/ less content in terms of sheer quantity than the games that came right before it, but it also completely overhauled the visuals, heavily revised and updated the core gameplay, and completely changed how the area maps worked.

Alternatively, I think all the people currently complaining about models and trees and balance would have been fine with ‘just another pokemon game’ if it had maintained the backwards compatibility, just as they’ve been alright with ‘just another pokemon game’ for game after game after game until now.  Imagine if gamefreak had announced sword and shield as the last main line games to maintain all previous pokemon instead of the first games not to.  Then at least everybody’s personal faves would have had the chance to see play on a home system, and sword and shield could advertise themselves as the biggest pokemon games ever and actually mean it, and players would have time to adjust to what was coming.

I’m reminded of a scene from the Gravity Falls Halloween episode in season one.  Mabel & Dipper had always trick or treated together, but this year dipper decided to ditch mabel to try and go to a teen party, arguing that they were getting too old for trick or treating.  To which Mabel says something along the lines of “I knew some Halloween would be our last, but I didn’t realize it had already happened.”

And that’s the feeling I have with pokemon right now, the wet blanket draped over all the bright colors and fun new characters and monsters in sword and shield.  I knew eventually pokemon games wouldn’t be able to keep supporting all the pokemon, I knew eventually my collection would be left behind.  But I didn’t think it had already happened.  And to find out that gen 7 of all games was the last ‘complete’ pokemon?  That’s just kind of sad to realize.  And while I am on balance enjoying sword and shield, it’s a realization that keeps coming back uninvited to sour the experience.

[aweirdkindofyellow]

Here I Am, There You Are

Jack Barakat x OC 'Rachel has been best friends with Alex, Jack, Rian, and Zack since high school. What happens when one of them gets married?'

Part 1

I woke up the next morning with somebody else’s arms wrapped around me. Often when I woke up in new strange places, I needed some time to remind myself where the hell I was and what I was doing. This time, I didn’t need anything to remind me what had happened. Everything was as clear as day. I could still remember Jack acting all civil in the Uber, confusing the hell out of me again. It was like he was playing with my emotions for his own entertainment. But, back in the hotel, things flipped around yet again. We went up to his hotel room, which he had already been in the night before, making sure to bring all my belongings with us this time, and the rest was history. Shifting a little to get more comfortable, I managed to wake up Jack. At first, he just stirred a little, but then his breathing became louder, and eventually he let out a loud groan. As expected, he was probably experiencing a horrible hangover. That mixed in with being woken up by another person was the worst combination. “Huh?” Jack grumbled, seemingly needing those extra minutes to remember that he wasn’t in his own bed at home. “Morning.” “Morning,” I whispered back, turning around to face him. He did indeed look like he needed a couple more minutes to wake up, if not hours. So, I decided to let him take his time without me around to make him dizzy. “I’m going to take a shower, okay?” He gave me a thumbs up and I got out of bed. Taking my bag with my change of clothes, I slipped into the bathroom, blowing off the fact that I was fully naked. My reflection was horrifying. Not only was my (classified by agencies as) honey blonde hair, which had been full of product, sticking up weirdly as a reminder of the night before, but my makeup was smudged completely. I quickly closed the bathroom door before Jack could see, making sure to leave it ajar so he could run in if he suddenly felt nauseous. I worked through my hair with a brush first, knowing it would be a lost cause if I wettened it without detangling it. It was more work than when I actually did it in the first place. Next was trying to get off all that smudged eyeliner and mascara, which I was more prepared for and had makeup wipes for in my bag. As soon as I knew taking a shower would only help my situation, I moved to the shower and inspected the dials and handles. Once I finally figured it out and turned it on, there was a knock on the door. Not a knock on the door to the bathroom, a knock on the door to the hotel room. I froze in place, wondering who it was, and decided to listen in before I hopped in the inviting water. Jack groaned once again, but got up anyway. After a bit of fumbling and another knock at the door, he grumbled out an “I’m coming!” Although I couldn’t see the faces, I could recognize the other voices as well. “Hey, Jack,” Lisa greeted, concern coating her words. “Have you seen Rachel? I barely got to see her yesterday and apparently she didn’t check in either.” My eyes went wide. Did I have to make an appearance and announce that I was okay? But I looked horrible and was completely naked. There was no way I could just casually walk out and act like it was all normal. Even if I quickly wrapped a towel around myself or put on some clothes, the conversation would have already moved on. “No, sorry,” Jack replied, his voice rough and hoarse. “If I see her, I’ll tell her you were looking for her.” “Okay, thanks,” she sighed, both with relief and even more unease, “I just want to see her before we leave on our honeymoon, which is in like an hour.” “Is that your shower running?” Alex’s deep chuckle came from the same direction, making me take a few steps away from the bathroom door. “Yeah,” Jack simply said, the croak of the door telling me he opened it a bit more, but not enough to invite the guests in. “Woah, what happened in here?” Lisa wondered, sounding shocked. “Well, let’s see…” Jack clapped his hand together, making him flinch at the sound he had created himself. “The bed sheets are all crumpled up, my suit is spread across the room, there’s a dress on the floor that most definitely isn’t mine, and there’s a condom wrapper on the bedside table. I’m not really sure, actually.” “Dude,” Alex laughed yet again. “And you don’t even remember?” “I am so fucking hungover right now,” Jack answered, making my heart drop. His prior statement still made it sound like he was making a sarcastic joke, but this said otherwise. “Man, well, good luck with that.” I didn’t listen to the rest of their conversation. Instead, I did what I came here for, and that was to take a shower. All the negativity and bad feelings had to be washed away. I ignored the fact that Jack was in the room next to me as soon as I got out of the shower and dried myself off. It was difficult to do with him shuffling around, but he didn’t enter the bathroom once. I just changed and dried my hair, praying he would leave the room temporarily so I wouldn’t have to see him anymore. But that was too much to ask for. I came out of the bathroom holding my suitcase to find Jack sitting on the bed facing me while cradling his head. While I had enjoyed his presence a few minutes before, I sure as hell didn’t anymore. I now knew what he thought about last night, and I didn’t want to deal with that. Despite knowing how drunk and horny he was, I still managed to fall under his spell. And I had literally told him I wasn’t a girl that did one night stands that evening. “You can go, now,” I muttered, refusing to look at him although I could feel his gaze boring right through me. I could only imagine his surprise to find out he had slept with me. He nodded and silently got up before going into the bathroom. As soon as the door closed, I threw my suitcase on the bed and opened it as quickly as possible. Since I was wearing the clothes and shoes I had brought along in it, I now had enough space to stuff my dress and heels in. I didn’t even bother to fold it nicely so it wouldn’t end up wrinkling. Even the underwear I couldn’t find from last night didn’t matter. I didn’t need those filthy things anyway. With the water still running in the bathroom, I sneaked out of the hotel room. I didn’t need to look back. I just had to go downstairs, get breakfast, maybe run into Lisa, and get back home. Just like that, I had managed to ruin my friendship with one of my best friends; all because I was so damn stupid. When I exited the elevator in the lobby, I saw Alex at the front desk with all of his large suitcases for his honeymoon. They needed to leave soon, and it was obvious they were all ready and excited to go. I didn’t know exactly where they were going, but I knew it was one of their favorite vacation spots. Lisa, however, was nowhere near, I walked past, ready to go into the food hall, only to be spotted by Alex. “Rachel!” he called out and speed walked up to me, leaving all of his bags at the front desk without close supervision. “Hey.” “Hey,” I smiled back, trying to push away all the things that had happened the day before, “I didn’t get to congratulate you yesterday. So, congratulations!” “Thanks.” He hugged me quickly, his eyes glancing in the direction of his belongings just to check. “Anyway, Lisa was worried about you. Apparently, you didn’t check in.” “Yeah…” I exhaled, knowing I couldn’t act like nothing had happened at all. “I sorta had a one night stand. Not really my thing, though. I’m never going to be doing that again.” “What? No way,” he shook his head in disbelief, but I shrugged to show him I wasn’t lying. “With who?” “Eh, I’m not sure. Kinda left before he woke up and didn’t really look back.” It was a lie, of course I knew it had been Jack. I remembered every little detail, even how he accidentally closed the door on my foot while we were making out. “Oh my god,” Alex laughed. “Stone cold, Rachel, stone cold!” If only he knew why I left so quickly, then he’d be saying that to somebody else. Jack would be in so much shit. Alex knew me way too well and knew I’d never willingly have a one night stand with anybody, stranger or friend. I nearly wanted to tell him just because Jack would be so dead. But I didn’t need to ruin Alex’s bliss. As soon as their honeymoon was over, I could mention it to him. “Anyway, I’m going to get some breakfast, okay? Tell Lisa I’m in there if she still wants to see me,” I brushed off his comment and dragged my suitcase behind me as I started to walk away. “Will do.” Alex gave me one single nod before returning to the front desk. Somehow, I managed to sneak into the buffet without having to tell the people my room number. Not checking in the night before could have seriously screwed me over this morning. Of course, I could have gotten back at Jack by telling them his room number, making sure he couldn’t get in anymore. But I wasn’t that petty, and there wasn’t even a reason to do so. Plus, the number wasn’t exactly something I knew. I got myself a bowl of yogurt and added some of the mixed fruit in it, picking up a banana and a spoon in the process. There was more than enough space for me to sit. All I really wanted was to sit by myself in a corner and regret all my life decisions. But then I made eye contact with one of my other best friends who had been in the wedding party. Rian flashed his teeth and beckoned for me to come over. He was sharing a large table with Zack, the plates at the empty spaces telling me they had had more company before. But I knew I couldn’t just ignore them now. So, I went up to them, struggling to hold my breakfast in one hand and drag my suitcase in the other hand over the carpeted floor. “Hey, guys,” I tried my best to give yet another believable smile as I put down my bowl and collapsed the handle. Before I could sit down, Rian rushed up to me and gave me a big hug, also not having seen me at the wedding reception. I hugged him back, still marveled at how much he had grown up. When I first met him, he was this chubby kid that wore shirts that were way too large for him. Now, he had gotten rid of that extra weight, replacing some of it with muscle, and his weird curly locks were gone. “How are you?” He asked me cheerfully as he broke the hug and pulled out the chair for me to sit on. Always the gentleman. “Yeah, pretty good...” I shrugged as he sat opposite of me and Zack. “No headache?” Zack poked with a wink. “Or did you cradle that glass of water for hours as well?” I punched him lightly, picking up my spoon so I could start eating. “I’ll have you know I had six more drinks after that water!” Were they also glasses of water? Yes, they were. Did Zack need to know? What he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him. This way, if anybody found out about my little mishap with Jack, I could still say I had six drinks after the guys tried to get some life in me. “Going hard, aren’t ya?” He laughed, letting me eat my bowl of yogurt. What I wasn’t prepared for, though, was that Jack was also going to get some breakfast. Of course it was stupid of me to think that he would just stay up in his room forever and I would never have to see him again. Lucky for me, though, I spotted him at the buffet beforehand, so I could at least shield myself mentally. Somehow, he joined our table just as Lisa came bouncing in to talk to me. There was still a permanent grin plastered on her face, the weight of her ring on her finger making her feel beautiful and important. And she was. Who wouldn’t feel that way after their wedding? She was still the one person everybody admired. Jack sat down across from Zack, the furthest away from me as possible. While it was the only seat left for him without him being excluded from the group, I still was more than grateful that he decided to sit so far away from me. I didn’t need his menacing glare to be worse than it already was. I really was trying to look anywhere but at him, but it was very difficult knowing that he was staring right at me with disgust. “Holy fuck, Jack,” Rian burst out, remembering something and leaning forward, hitting his hand against the table to get everybody’s attention. “I don’t know who you were with last night, but you were being fucking loud!” I continued to look down at my yogurt, hoping a blush wouldn’t spread across my cheeks. None of the guys really seemed to take any mind, they were more interested in whatever Jack had been doing. Jack just stared back at them, his eyes flickering between his friends. At least it meant his attention was no longer on me. “You know,” Lisa interjected, standing at my end of the table, “Rachel had a one night stand as well.” My silence was short lived. Everybody’s eyes fell on me now, shock stiffening their entire bodies. They all knew that I wasn’t the one to just sleep with a person and never look back. I had always been in some sort of relationship. Jack, however, didn’t flinch. He just continued to stuff a piece of waffle in his mouth, not even bothering to look in my direction. “Okay, stop judging me.” I raised my hands up in defense, in turn dropping my spoon in the yogurt and swallowing what was in my mouth. “I’m never going to do it again. It was the worst thing I’ve ever done. Literally, it sucked so bad. I was lucky I could sneak out of there; didn’t want to give him a fright since he couldn’t remember a thing. But, hey, I can take it off my bucket list now and hope I’m never faced with it again.” “Now, why would you say that?” Jack frowned, cocking his head to the side. Of course he had to get all defensive without giving away that both our sexcapedes happened to be the same one. I shrugged, leaning back in my chair. “Maybe you enjoy them, but I don’t. Not really my problem, just a preference.” “Okay, well, I’ve got to get going,” Lisa once again interrupted, luckily before this rivalry between me and Jack could blow up to something that didn’t just seem like him feeling I offended his ways. “But I’m glad to know you’re okay.” “Yeah, I’m so sorry I kind of disappeared on you,” I told her and got up from the chair. I hugged her tightly, swaying the both of us slightly, making this my most heartfelt hug the entire morning. I still couldn’t believe I had let myself be such a party pooper, and I really was sorry for it all. “Have fun on your honeymoon.” With that, Lisa said goodbye to everybody else, giving us all one last wave, her fingers closing up and down while the palm and thumb stayed in place. At least I still got to congratulate the bride and groom and didn’t have to feel guilty for the rest of my life. They probably didn’t even realize that I didn’t come up to them during the reception because of my own selfish reasons, not because they were so busy and having fun. I sighed, taking my last bite of watermelon and pushing my bowl forward a couple of inches. “I’ve also gotta get going. But it was really nice to see you guys again.” “Awe,” Rian pouted while Jack looked at me with wide eyes, “can’t you hang out with us a little longer? We haven’t even been able to catch up yet.” “I’m sorry, guys, but I’ve got a flight to catch.” I twitched my lips to give a sorry smile and started shuffling my chair back again. “But if you ever pass through LA, whether it be on tour or for personal reasons, contact me.” I did manage to get them to let me leave. Zack and Rian both gave me very nice goodbyes while Jack just looked around in panic. I really had to hold back my eye roll until I walked away. It wouldn’t be Jack if he hadn’t forgotten that we both lived in LA, actually quite close to each other. There was quite a large chance that we could run in. And now he suddenly realized his plan of fucking me and leaving me alone wasn’t going to work. I waited around in the lobby, feeling weird that I could just walk away without checking out and paying. All I needed to do was order an Uber, wait a little longer, and then I’d be off. Soon, the whole memory of last night would be very distant and it wouldn’t matter anymore. “Rach, wait!” Jack came jogging up to me from the food hall, his own phone in his hands. There was no way he had already finished his breakfast at the rate he had been picking at that waffle. He must have ran out after me. “What?” I exhaled, waiting for my phone to connect since it had died but had received a second life from my power-bank. “I, umm…” he breathed heavily, scanning my face with his eyes. “You, umm, you never gave me any Advil.” “Excuse me?” I scoffed. Did he really think I now owed him more than just my body? He was a fucking asshole. “No, no,” he shook his head, going to grab my arms but deciding better of it, “you promised to have Advil and sparkling water for me, remember?” I frowned. Yes, I could remember joking that I’d have it ready for him in the morning after our first kiss. But what did it matter now? It was an empty promise, just like that kiss had been. Was he trying to prove that he could actually remember last night? But then why would he tell everybody he couldn’t even remember coming back to his hotel room? There was something really screwed up about him. “Seems like things don’t always go as planned,” I shrugged, pleased to see my phone had service again and I could get that Uber to save me from this situation. “Rach, no, please,” he begged, his pleading eyes looking at the screen of my phone as I went to the app. “What do you want from me?” I asked, fed up with him, as I turned off my phone so we could finish this conversation. It wasn’t like I wanted to talk to him, but the rage in me was only going to ruin my day even further, I had to let it out. “Are you now trying to tell me that you can remember last night but are an asshole who acts like nothing happened? I told you I was not up for a one night stand, not ever, but you manipulated me. You saw that thong and just went for it.” “No, that wasn’t-- I-- Rach… You were saying how insecure you were. I couldn’t just--” “So you took advantage of me?” I gasped, shaking my head at him and unlocking my phone once again. “You knew I wasn’t in the right mind to say no to anything. Getting with insecure girls is easy, isn’t it?” “No!” he continued to deny, taking my phone out of my hands and stuffing it in his back pocket, knowing I wouldn’t reach in to grab it. “When I told you I had a crush on you in high school, I wasn’t kidding. I just never had the guts to pursue it because I thought you were way out of my league. You dated all the jocks and Alex, apparently. I didn’t have any chance. I forgot about it. But I felt horrible knowing you were so insecure about relationships. It made me wonder if I could maybe fix that and be that guy who didn’t just want to use you as a one night stand. But I panicked and Zack was the first person I saw. So, yeah, I may have been a bit over my head. Actually, I’m sure of it. I would have never kissed you if I didn’t have a little liquid courage. So, I don’t know where I went wrong, but I really didn’t intend for it to come over like this.” As moving as his speech was, pulling at my heartstrings, I still couldn’t just forgive him like that. “You just acted like you didn’t know what happened. You spoke about it like some routine. And now you’re trying to tell me it meant more to you? Do you hear how hard that sounds to believe?” I crossed my arms and held my hand out to get my phone back. “But, Rach, you’re the one that disappeared. You walked out on me. How do you think that made me feel?” He shook his head, refusing to give my phone back. “Because you told Alex and Lisa that you hadn’t seen me and described the events like it was just another morning for you!” I wailed, just wanting to get my phone back so I could leave. How people around us weren’t looking at us strangely, I don’t know. But I was done with it. “What, did you want me to tell them that we slept together?” He finally gave my phone back, harshly pushing it in my hand, causing me to immediately order that Uber without hesitation this time. “Cause I wasn’t just going to do that without knowing how you felt about it. What if you didn’t want anybody to know? What if I acted all happy about what happened just to find out you couldn’t care less? I didn’t need them to know I got my heart broken on their wedding night.” “Then why are you coming with this now? Why not earlier?” I sighed. I was starting to feel for him. I also wouldn’t have wanted to boast about it, just to find out Jack couldn’t remember a thing. But still, it wasn’t okay. “We’ve been friends for over ten years, nearly fifteen, and you never thought to say anything? Hell, if you said something this morning when we woke up, it would have been enough for me.” “Then what are we fighting about? Miscommunication? Cause that is a shitty thing to fight about if we both want the same thing out of this.” I froze. There was no good come back to that. Jack was right. Here we were, fighting with each other because we were both upset about the same thing. We both thought the other didn’t care, but wanted them to. We wanted it so bad that we were blaming each other instead of noticing that we also didn’t do anything ourselves. Jack could have told me all of this years ago, and it wouldn’t have done anything. Maybe it would have compromised our friendship, because I hadn’t ever thought about him like this. Last night, though, I couldn’t help but see him in a new light. Jack unearthed his feelings that he had managed to hide in high school, and I didn’t need to look for a stranger that would understand me and treat me right, I already had that person in front of me. It was a lot more simple that we made it out to seem. Jack must have noticed my silence. Just like the night before, he sneaked his right hand up to cup my left cheek. He lightly stroked my skin with his thumb, waiting for me to push him away. But I couldn’t. I was awaiting him, looking right into his eyes and hoping it was enough of an apology. He tried to send the same message back to me, eventually causing our lips to be pressed up against each other again. His scruff felt the same way as the night before, but he smelled way better. There was no overabundance of cologne and sweat, it was just soap and deodorant. It calmed my nerves. This time, we were broken apart by my phone buzzing. Jack sighed as I pulled away and took out my phone, disappointed to see that it was my Uber driver telling me he was right outside. I had hoped it would have been my savior, but now it was just the end before we reached the happy ending. “Text me when you’re back in LA, alright?” I asked him after texting the driver that I’d be out in a minute. “Okay,” he nodded, glancing out the window and at the black car that was waiting for me, before giving me a sad look. I grabbed his chin with one hand, my thumb on the left side of his face and my fingers on the other side. I carefully tilted his head down and kissed him briefly before taking hold of my suitcase’s handle and walking out of the hotel to go back home.

[redblackspade]

What's gonna happen if a psychologist would make a video game?

I was interested in psychology even at school, and not for typical reasons: I was not motivated by the desire to deal with my own “demons” or to understand people around me. At the age of 17, I went to programmers university preparatory courses. There I was surrounded by guys in knitted sweaters and with virgin moustaches on thoughtful faces. The next day I was brought to courses in a pedagogical university, where I was the only guy in the audience. Young girls all around me, and the audience full of fragrant scents of women's perfumes. Stunned by what I saw, I confidently decided to study in this paradise.That’s how I began to break my life.The answer is psychedelic metroidvania where you play as a phobia.

Hello everybody, my name is Slava, I’m from Russia, and I am preparing the release of the third game that I made almost alone: music is the only piece I’m not responsible for. I make everything else myself. Having only a master’s degree in psychology, I dived into game development five years ago. I think it’s worth explaining a little about how it happened to bring a better understanding of what is going on in here. A small introduction will help to adequately perceive everything that jumps and flashes in the recently published trailer:

I was interested in psychology even at school, and not for typical reasons: I was not motivated by the desire to deal with my own “demons” or to understand people around me. At the age of 17, I went to programmers university preparatory courses. There I was surrounded by guys in knitted sweaters and with virgin moustaches on thoughtful faces. The next day I was brought to courses in a pedagogical university, where I was the only guy in the audience. Young girls all around me, and the audience full of fragrant scents of women's perfumes. Stunned by what I saw, I confidently decided to study in this paradise.

That’s how I began to break my life.

In my “career” of a psychologist, the most reasonable decisions were: to drop dropping the psychology to hell; silently leaving graduate school; retirement from a kind of a foster home, where I worked for three years after graduating from the magistracy and fully  devoting myself to game development.

I made these decisions not because I wasn’t interested in psychology anymore - on the contrary, while I was studying, I began to penetrate the structure of human minds. However, this profession did not allow me to express myself creatively. I always wanted other people to enjoy the worlds that were born in my mind. Knowledge of psychology helped in building my own life and in creating fictional characters, but it’s difficult to call it a high-paying profession in Russia. It would be possible to strive to open my office, but my heart wasn’t in it, and I’ve chosen another way.

Job in a social institution forced to constantly look for a part-time work. Although I enjoyed spending time with children from difficult families, moving from my parents and meeting with my “second half” forced me to earn a little more than I used to. The payments in social  institutions in Russia are very-very low. I couldn’t do anything except digging in people’s minds with a bottle of whiskey, but I was familiar with Photoshop. I knew how to draw using Macromedia Flash, so I decided to find ways to apply these skills.

And I found it. People often look for artists on the game development forums, and those who had a severely limited budget doesn’t need particularly luxurious graphics - I could easily draw a pair of sprites for 5 euros. My desire to get at least some money helped me to improve my drawing skills. I really didn’t know how to draw. I simply drew and redrew everything until it satisfied the “customer”.

That’s what I used to draw back then. 

A year later, I realised that I could completely create graphics for my own game. I only needed to find money for a programmer. The whole thing was in the distant 2014th year, and nobody was aware of the coming “indie apocalypse”. The games were coming out at a crazy oace, and the tools for creating them became easier and more accessible. I saw that artists are no less in demand than programmers, and came to the conclusion that if I had improved my drawing skills to a level allowed me to create a whole game in two years, then how long would it take me to learn to code too?

It took no time at all. I installed Construct 2 and things rushed. Two years later, my first game came out: Reflection of Mine. It was a dark and hardcore puzzle about a girl with multiple personality syndrome. I chose this topic because I wanted to use all my knowledge and skills in this project, and by that time I was the most advanced in psychology. And the engine...

Almost nobody takes Construct 2 seriously. This is an engine for creating two-dimensional HTML5 games, but when I started working with it, I didn’t even know what HTML5 is. I saw that dragging the windows in C2 produces quite a working “exe” file, the launch of which opens the doors for people to the world invented by me and introduces to the characters invented by me. What else do I need?

I still do not know. The games that I created with Construct 2 work! They are played by thousands of people around the world, and all the difficulties and bugs that some players suffered from were caused not by a “crooked engine”, but by my own hands. I didn’t face any problem that I could not fix in the future. Also I didn’t see any 2D-game mechanic that I could not recreate with Construct 2.

Now, however, the engine is dying, Construct 3, in my opinion, is horrible, and since the company making this product is moving into the abyss, at some point I will remove Construct 2 from my PC forever.

So what am I working on now? Fearmonium is a psychedelic metroidvania, where the player takes under control an unpleasant memory, seeking to become a phobia. The visual style is not inspired by the game Cuphead. To be honest, I’m not a big fan at all - the eternal battles with bosses are more tiring than pleasing to me. But still, I admit that this is a great game. I’m just a fan of exploration and I suffered from lack of it in there. Cuphead's visual style emerged from the twentieth-century classic animation, and my inspiration grows from there too.

However, I have never been a fan of the drooling intensity of short cartoon films about Mickey Mouse and Betty Boop. Although I was fascinated by the frame-by-frame animation in these creations, I never found them inspiring. And just before working on Fearmonium, I understood why: it was all about the music.

I saw several unofficial videos of the musician named GHOSTEMANE - the authors took cuts from the cartoons of the first half of the twentieth century, put some camera shake and glitches on it and mixed them with aggressive and dark music, reminiscent of my beloved Witch house. This setting hooked me up. I chose a dark palette, a dark plot, dressed it all in the style of old cartoons and began to work.

The very procedure for bringing the game to its current state was as follows: in about two months I created a small demo version, where I had already chosen the visual style and gameplay. In February, I presented it at the White Nights conference in Berlin to look at the reaction of the players and to understand whether I was moving in the right direction. It turned out that in the right one.

From February to this day, I worked specifically on the trailer, and, frankly speaking, I turned the project file into complete chaos from broken levels and a real mess from objects called sprite1, sprite2, sprite100, but order was never my thing, and I'm sure I’ll get away with this.

Phobias aren’t growing from the void. Most often they are born from disturbing memories and bloom on the “compost” of negative states. The memory can be perceived by us as worrisome even without any obvious unpleasant factors: a person can see a clown or a spider under absolutely normal (seemingly) conditions, but these images are so firmly stuck into his head that it can transform into a serious neurosis. The unconscious will take care of this.

Fearmonium begins with a story about a fair where a boy named Jimmy saw clowns, and although he didn’t like them very much, he didn’t expect to wake up in the middle of the night from their appearance in his dream. Sleep has an important function of “squashing down” memories of the past day. Things we saw during the day affect the things that we will see while we sleep. A person doesn’t store memories in the form of text files or photographs, they don’t even look like a movie: we think in “images”. And how one or another image is treated depends only on the person. Absolutely same images can mean very different things to different people.

Bright images, seen by Jimmy at the fair, became his "protectors" when player converted his dream into a nightmare. That is why the first enemies we met were all that he liked from the  previous day.

Interaction with enemies is not limited to waving a hammer. Two properties of phobias are involved in the battle with memories. First: neuroses affect the images in our memories. A “patient” suffering from a phobia will hardly be sure whether he saw a spider or a clown a year ago. It will seem to him that the subject of his fear was always somewhere near.

Secondly the phobia is not related to a specific item, it relates to a whole class of items. All that is associated with clowns becomes painful for Jimmy. People who are afraid of spiders will not divide them into types and panic from the appearance of some specific spider, they will be frightened by everything that their minds connect with spiders.

In this way, we “fake” Jimmy’s memories by turning enemies into balloons that Jimmy strongly associates with clowns. Where there was something light in his memory — bam — and a balloon appears.

In addition, we will meet other clowns in the memories of Jimmy that the boy has seen in throughout his life, and take them into our "army", using these memories as weapons against bright images.

But the very purpose of the game is not to drive poor Jimmy crazy. A phobia is not always as destructive as it may seem, and this is the main idea that I want to convey.

Neurosis doesn’t appear from a good emotional state. Stress, constant anxiety - a great “compost” for depression and phobias. Jimmy's life is not wonderful at all. His consciousness was already a chaos before our appearance. I will not go into the details of his life that drove Jimmy into the abyss of misfortunes, but I will say that in his situation, no one except Jimmy himself can save the situation.

And one of the features of phobias: the displacement of the objective fears. And "objective" does not mean "reasonable." For example, being late to school is an objective fear, but even such a minor phenomenon can be accompanied by an absurd amount of stress. Our indecision is often caused by the ridiculous amount of experience over trifles, which are perceived as something very important. With the presence of a real, severe neurosis, trifles are again turned into trifles, and only clowns seem to be a serious threat.

I briefly retold some things that I reveal through Fearmonium. The plot will affect the nature of depression, and standard methods of protection against neurosis, and a bunch of things that I caught at lectures at the university. But I remember an important rule - the best story in the game is the one that can be ignored. Fearmonium may well attract someone with funny pictures and dynamic gameplay, but scare off with its internal seriousness. So, in the game it will be impossible to get confused even if you don’t get a grasp of all the subtleties of human consciousness, and the “educational” part of the game is purely optional.

 I believe that games can say more than “click on X to win”, and I try to develop this idea.

Don’t forget to add Fearmonium to your wishlist!

https://store.steampowered.com/app/1068360/Fearmonium/

[precuredaily]

Precure Day 091

Film: Futari wa Precure Max Heart The Movie 2 - Friends of the Snow Laden Sky Date watched: 30 October 2018 Original release date: 10 December 2005 Screenshots: https://imgur.com/a/SCywSDw

Can you believe there’s actually not any group shots while they’re in Phoenix Form?

This movie is quite possibly my favorite movie in the entire Precure franchise. Where the first movie was good, this movie is excellent, and that’s not something I will be saying about every movie because there’s definitely some duds in this series. In the Max Heart movies, though, you can really tell they put a lot of time, money, energy, and effort to produce a polished product. This is most evident in the clarity and consistency of the art and the fluidity and dynamism of the animation. It’s not outstanding, not on par with the studios that subsist only on theatrical animation, but compared to the average episode, there’s a lot more to appreciate, so let’s dig in.

Right out of the gate we get a gorgeous shot of the moon, and some creatures flying past it: a flying squirrel with the voice of Goku carrying a diminutive old sage with the voice of Master Roshi (just kidding, he’s the voice of Kami), who is carrying an egg with the voice of nobody because eggs don’t talk. Right after promising not to drop the egg, Sage drops the egg and it gracefully descends into a snowy landscape as all the animals stop and watch.

The next day we find most of the main cast at a nearby ski resort! Akane and Hikari have set up shop inside the lodge; Shiho, Rina, and Fuji-P are snowboarding; Honoka and Kimata are skiing, and Nagisa.... is struggling, to put it nicely.

Her lack of skill does not go unnoticed and Honoka frequently rushes over to pull her out of snowbanks and back onto her feet, but despite the encouragement from her friend, Nagisa is still self-conscious about crashing on the bunny slope and not being able to really ski with everybody else, especially her crush. This plants the seed of a subtle tension between the two, but before anything can come of it, everybody goes back inside for a bit. While they were all out on the slopes, Hikari has found the egg and in her arms it hatched into a very plump bird! The girls all gather around and try to decide what it is and what to do with it. After agreeing that bringing her inside was a better idea than leaving her alone outside, and unable to figure out her species, they at least try to name her, and they settle on Hinata, which means “the sun’s warmth”, because she is also very warm. Then everybody goes back out to the slopes for another round, but this time Nagisa gets even more frustrated with herself, Honoka chastises her for giving up so easily, and lets slip that she could ski with Fuji-P..... who happens to be passing overhead on the ski lift as she says this. Embarrassed and frustrated, Nagisa snaps at Honoka and runs away. Honoka gives chase, but before they can settle things they see a Zakenna chasing Hikari. The girls rush to the scene and save her from being squashed by a tree, and then they all transform. The fight is excellently animated, making full use of the movie budget, but the choreography between the two girls is off. Cure Black blocks a punch on the ground as Cure White does a flying kick.... increasing the strain on Black. In frustration, Black deflects the giant fist back up and it accidentally strikes White. They both fall and the zakenna chases after Hinata, ignoring the warriors of light. Luminous freezes it with Heartiel Action, giving Black and White enough time to recover and destroy it with Marble Screw Max. Luminous remarks that the two seemed uncoordinated and they awkwardly walk it off.

Off to one side, the two villains who summoned the monster, Freezen (future voice of Coco from Yes 5) and Frozen (future voice of Girinma from the same) comment that they are the number one duo, and they’re not through yet. Off to the other side, Sage and Muta realize that Hinata is the egg they dropped.

Later that night Nagisa and Honoka are both clearly upset about their fight and want to apologize but struggle to face each other. Just as they come face to face, they hear Hinata’s cry and go running to discover that Sage and Muta have found Hikari and Hinata. Without explaining what’s going on, Sage drops some magic beans and a beanstalk sprouts, quickly taking everybody to the Garden of Clouds. (Yes they did just go full Jack and the Beanstalk) Nagisa and Honoka’s faces are priceless.

that’s worth the price of admission right there

Up in the Garden of Clouds, Muta and Sage drop a lot of exposition, thanking the girls for saving their Houou, and explaining the lifecycle of a houou. Hinata, the houou, reveals she can talk and is annoyed at Nagisa for trying to give her a stupid name, but because she’s Honoka’s friend Hinata will forgive her. Cue awkward glance between the two. They settle down to eat in celebration of the birth and return of the houou and are joined by more flying squirrels. During the meal Mepple sadly observes that Hinata will always be alone as there can only ever be one houou, but Sage counters that the houou has all of them and they have sworn to protect her as she is the source of all warmth and peace, that without her the world would be cold and bitter. After this obvious foreshadowing, Freezen and Frozen turn up again and ransack the Garden of Clouds, capturing Hinata in a pillar of ice. They declare that the houou is the greatest obstacle to their domination, and with it gone they can surpass the Dark King and freeze all the worlds. The girls won’t let that happen without a fight, naturally, so they transform and while they engage Freezen and Frozen, Luminous tries to take the pillar holding Hinata, but she can’t. This is another really great fight with some unique tension, like Black getting her arm frozen and White kicking her free of Freezen’s grip, which clearly causes Nagisa some pain. White asks if she’s okay and Black just kind of turns away from her partner. They summon the Sparkle Braces and hit the villains with Marble Screw Max Spark, but the villains prepare their own combo attack: Freezing Blizzard. They comment with disdain on the weakness of their opponents, because they’re the number one duo, and they become the first enemies to ever overpower Marble Screw Spark. Freezing Blizzard covers everything in ice, freezing all of the residents except Sage and Muta, and it creates a giant ice fortress that the villains flee into with Hinata. The trio of heroines quickly pursue them into the fortress, but Luminous gets separated. At her request, Black and White press on while Luminous is stuck fighting a Zakenna with only Sage and Muta for help.

Inside the fortress is an arena, and Freezen informs the duo that they must fight each other in order to advance. As he says that, Frozen pours ice into White’s heart, enhancing her negative feelings for Nagisa and silencing all voices but his own so that he can direct her to fight Cure Black. And let me tell you, evil Cure White is a scary sight indeed.

she will murder you

She lays the smackdown on Cure Black, who doesn’t want to fight her friend and screams at the unfairness of this. As White kicks Black out onto the roof, Black tries to appeal to her friend. It stirs Honoka’s memories but not enough to break the control. The villains comment that the one-sided fight is boring, so Freezen puts the spell on Black as well, and their fight is heartbreaking. It’s the culmination of the building antagonism between them throughout the film so far and it’s beautifully envisioned but also horrible to watch because of the emotional investment the audience has in their friendship.

As White has Black pinned, Honoka comes to her senses and starts crying over her partner as she calls out to Nagisa by name. Black looks up and there’s a question of whether she is awake or not, but she answers “White...” and then kicks her away. Their roles are now reversed, White won’t lay a finger on Black and stands up straight to silently plead with her. Black starts to flash back but charges straight at White and punches her off the cliff. However, right afterwards, Black catches White and calls out "Honoka!” She has broken the spell. They’re both relieved, but the moment doesn’t last because the ice crumbles beneath their weight and they go hurtling back down to the ground below, so the villains return to deal with the Houou.

Elsewhere, Luminous is still struggling with the Zakenna when Sage remembers he has more magic beans. As Freezen and Frozen arrive back at the room where Hinata is being kept, Luminous, Sage, and Muta arrive by beanstalk. Luminous once again exerts her strength to try and free Hinata, and this time she’s able to pull the entire ice pillar out of the ground and runs off with it.

I’m honestly impressed

On the ground level, Black and White wake up and finally have a moment to themselves. They make very tearful, very moving apologies to each other, for everything, in one of the movie’s most iconic scenes, and with their friendship rekindled, they start climbing back to the top.

By the time they reach the top, Luminous has fled to another ice tower with Freezen and Frozen in close pursuit, so to get there, Cure White breaks off a huge slab of ice and says they’ll have to snowboard across to get to their partner. Black boldly takes charge on this, overcoming her apprehensions and remembering a tip Fujimura gave her earlier, and she manages to steer and jump them right into the villains! She doesn’t quite stick the landing but hey, it’s only been a few minutes. They boldly take a stand against the ice villains.... and promptly get pounded into the ground. However, they stand back up, clearly exhausted, and place themselves between Freezen/Frozen and Luminous with Hinata. The villains taunt them, asking why they continue to fight when they have no energy, what they have to gain from being heroes protecting the world. They fire back that it’s not about being heroes, they just want to save their friends, and especially after the trials they’ve been through, they never want to feel the pain of losing a friend ever again. The villains retaliate by firing a Freezing Blizzard at them, which they can’t avoid, and they are frozen solid.

You’re as cold as ice! You’re willing to sacrifice our love!

With their greatest threat now out of the way, the villains advance towards Luminous, Hinata, Sage, and Muta. Hinata is weakened but moved by the strength of her friends, and she summons all her energy into a fireball that she fires at the frozen heroines. Suddenly Black and White break free of the ice and power up into new forms! These are their Phoenix Forms, seen at the top. They are able to fly around now, and they make short work of Freezen and Frozen before throwing them into each other face-first in a great fight. The brothers bicker with each other over who’s at fault for this and try to fire another Freezing Blizzard as the girls fire a Marble Screw Max Spark. The attacks converge but the icy duo can’t stop arguing with each other. Black and White accuse them of being fake partners who blame each other the moment things go badly, and lecture them on the lesson they’ve learned about true friendship. Then they blow the villains to kingdom come.

Black and White rush back over to where Luminous, Sage, and Muta are protecting Hinata, only to find them crying over Hinata, who has collapsed after giving Black and White all her power. Sage mourns that the Houou is gone and now there will never be any more warmth or peace, and if only they could have made it to see the Queen of Light after all this could have been avoided. This stirs a realization, and Luminous begins to channel her power into Hinata to save her precious friend. Hinata stirs, and everybody else joins Luminous: Black, White, Mipple, Mepple, Porun, Lulun, Sage, and Muta all contribute their power. Luminous transforms into her own Phoenix Form and sumons her Shiniel Baton, basically the Heartiel Baton in white, to imbue Hinata with the power of the Queen. As she does so, an image of the Queen appears behind her, and Sage is in awe that this girl is the Queen of Light.

Hinata transforms into a full-grown Houou and thaws the frozen wasteland, restoring warmth and peace to nature, and she even takes the heroines on a ride back home. After a very tearful goodbye from everybody, especially Porun (more on that later), they promise that even if they never get to see each other again, they’ll all always be friends, so with balance restored, Hinata flies away, back into the Garden of Clouds.

The next day, Nagisa and Honoka are tearing up the ski slopes together while everybody else looks on kind of dumbfounded. They ask when Nagisa got so good at snowboarding and she and Honoka just kind of share a glance before laughing it off and running away. On a nearby bank, Porun, Lulun, and Hikari all look at the sky and muse about their friend being out there somewhere in the clouds, and the credits begin to roll.

Where do I start with this movie? It introduces the central conflict early and slowly builds on it. Nagisa’s frustrations about not being a good snowboarder make sense, and she gets a bit defensive about it, especially when brought up in conjunction with her crush. Nagisa has always been sensitive to talking about him, so it fits her character. The villains, purposefully or not, take this chance to drive a wedge in between Nagisa and Honoka so they never get the chance to apologize to each other properly, even when they know they’re wrong. They subtly remind you of this throughout the entire first half of the film, with lots of awkward glances and other little cues, they’re out of sync during the Zakenna fight which results in them accidentally hurting each other, and it all comes to a head when Freezen and Frozen make them fight each other. That fight breaks my heart but it makes it so much more meaningful when they can finally sit down, say “I’m sorry”, and hug it out. They then get to show off their renewed bond and strength in the final battle with the icy duo, as well as flexing their desire to protect all their friends, Hikari and Hinata in particular. The dispute, the fight, and the resolution making them more powerful and closer than ever is, in my opinion, Precure at its absolute best. They don’t always have to come to blows but showing people that disagreements happen, even between friends, and if you swallow your pride and make amends you can pull through stronger than ever to overcome anything, that’s what it’s all about. Obviously this isn’t always applicable in real life but it’s a good foundation, and the way they visualize it in this movie with something as simple as a well-meaning statement when someone is in a bad mood, something neither party could really be faulted for, that’s something most people have experienced. Friendship takes work, and they also demonstrate the other side of this with the villains. Freezen and Frozen start the film taking advantage of the subtle strife between the girls, overpowering them at every turn. However once Nagisa and Honoka resolve their differences, they move as one and after a single attack, the villains start to squabble with each other. Their own partnership begins to crumble as they accuse each other of getting in the way and they can’t pull together an attack to save their lives (literally). Now it’s true that we don’t have as much investment in the villains of the movie relative to our heroines, because we’ve spent almost two years with the girls, but you get enough to understand them: all they do is brag about their bond and plot to freeze the world. This indicates there’s not much more to their partnership than what meets the eye, whereas the protagonists don’t really brag about their closeness, either in the show or the movie, it’s presented visually with how they behave around each other. They reflect on it sometimes but if anybody holds them to a lofty standard it’s their other friends commenting on how close Nagisa and Honoka are. They say pride comes before a fall and the villains demonstrate this.

Nagisa and Honoka aren’t the only friends in this movie, of course. A very big subplot that I didn’t really bring up in the summary is the bond between Hikari, Porun, and Hinata. Hinata hatched in Hikari’s arms, presumably because she’s the Queen’s life, and instantly took to her more than anybody else. While Hikari had to tend to the stand, Porun and Lulun played with Hinata and Porun especially found himself in a nurturing position for the tiny bird. He tried to help her fly, he encouraged her at every step, and both he and Hikari were beside themselves when she apparently died. I know I’ve written before about how Porun gets a lot better as a character over the course of a season and a half, well, this movie exemplifies that. When the day is saved and Hinata is all grown up, she has to go, and Porun cries that he doesn’t want to say goodbye, he wants to stay with Hinata forever. Nagisa starts to tell him not to be selfish and Porun responds that he knows. He cries, because he knows he has to let her go but he doesn’t want to and it’s hard. For a character that started out as a little brat, seeing him struggle with his selfish impulses at the moment he has to say goodbye to a friend forever is honestly really moving. Hikari sympathizes with him and Lulun offers her support as well. Hinata kindly tells him that they’ll always be friends, no matter how far apart they are, and sincerely thanks him and Hikari above the rest of the group. And indeed, while Hikari isn’t much of a fighter, she put in the bulk of the work in actually saving Hinata, and this is one of those times where I think they did a good job emphasizing Shiny Luminous’s unique strengths when they’re different from the Precures. Like in the first movie, they still separate her from the fighters, but this time she has her own purpose, her own path through the movie, and they don’t just knock her out until the climax of the film. This furthers the theory that the first movie wasn’t written with her in mind but I already discussed that in that review.

The art and animation are a step above the show, of course, because of the increased budget. This means the fights have a greater impact, and I like the early battle against the snowman zakenna in the snowy forest, that’s not a setting we’ve ever seen before and it presents unique obstacles. There’s more fluidity in the motions, and then you factor in the bit where Black and White are slightly at odds with each other, and it presents a great battle. But there’s other smaller moments too, like when Honoka is on the phone with her grandma the evening after the fight telling her everything is fine. While she does this she fidgets with the cord on the phone as a visual indication that she’s nervous and it’s little moments like this which I live for.

if you don’t remember corded phones, you’re too young to be reading my blog

The skiing scenes are also fun for the same reason as the action scenes.

I know I’ve commented in recent reviews that Shiho seems to be eclipsing Rina in characterization, and while neither of them are major players in this movie, Rina does get a particular moment of insight. After Shiho and Rina come back from the bath to see Nagisa slumped in her chair and no Honoka in sight, Rina instantly nails that she had a fight with Honoka, and offers her some advice. Rina remarks that if they’re true friends, they’ll apologize and pull through, but if they fall apart and let this ruin their relationship, they were fake friends.

also we see Rina with her hair down and that’s cute

It’s a small scene but it carries the entire film, as it’s now a journey for Nagisa and Honoka to make up with each other, and Nagisa repeats this mentality to Honoka after they make up, and to Frozen and Freezen during their final stand. I’ll have to look back at the series but I think this is the most importance Rina has ever had.

Here’s some thoughts on the voice cast. The guest stars (Kuaso Takeshi as Freezen and Hiyama Nobuyuki as Frozen) really ham up their roles and that’s glorious. Hiyama in particular is always a delight to hear, especially when he gets to use his upper range. I first remember hearing him as Viral in Gurren Lagann and since then he’s stuck out at me. Yukana gets to show off more of her range with evil Cure White, and her evil voice is terrifying coming out of Honoka. Masako Nozawa, as I mentioned, gets the dual roles as Yukishiro Sanae (a bit part if we’re being honest) and Muta, but as far as I can tell nobody else is double cast, which results in characters like Fuji-P, Kimata, and Akane only having a few lines each, although they offer mild justification by cutting away to them at key moments during the events in the Garden of Clouds so they can comment on things like the worsening weather, Nagisa and Honoka’s long absence, and..... actually that’s about it. It seems arguably not worth the cost of getting them onboard but maybe they recorded their lines during other sessions, I don’t know. It’s not like the boys are major players in the show either.

The soundtrack is good, if not especially memorable. There are a lot of themes and songs that are reused from the first movie. I do want to give a quick shoutout to "Pretty Cure Super Version”, the song accompanying Black and White’s resurrection. It feels regal, powerful, and inspiring and does an excellent job of bringing the audience back from the brink of defeat along with the girls. I don’t want to downplay the music of this film, but there’s some movies you watch and you’re humming the soundtrack for days afterwards. This is not one of those. The songs are nice in the moment and one or two may stick with you, and when I go back and listen to it again I’m like “Ahhhh yes this is a great song” but then I immediately forget how it went afterwards.

If you recall from MH1, there was an insert song as well as an ending theme, and there’s a third vocalized song on the soundtrack (besides the op and ed) called “Crystal”, but I went back to find it and it only plays in the background of a few scenes, it’s meant to be music actually playing in the ski lodge. Nice song, not much to say about it. The ending is a poppy, bubbly tune that doesn’t inspire much feeling. Very much just a song to get kids out of the theater.

As you can see it’s just a slideshow of stills across the two seasons, but two in particular stood out to me. First is the shot of the girls walking to work in their winter uniforms, because I’m pretty sure the girl walking by Shiho is a freshman player on the lacrosse team, which would imply it’s from a future episode of the show. (I thought it was Miu at first but it’s not, and now I’m stumped because I recognize her but I can’t identify her) Next is one I didn’t notice until writing this paragraph, and that’s the shot of Nagisa and Honoka in front of Akane’s cafe when they went to the highlands, the first time Baldez attacked them.

Compare to the TV version:

I’m not sure if they completely redrew all of these shots for the ending but they sure did some work on this one. Note that those two girls in the back feature very briefly in the film, commenting on how good Honoka and Fuji-P looked together and fueling Nagisa’s feelings of inadequacy.

Sorta speaking of the art, let’s take a moment to appreciate everybody’s winter clothes, but especially Honoka’s bun, because it’s cute as heck and also I have a thing for when animators draw characters with different hairstyles.

Last little point of note, the first film was strangely sponsored by a jewelry company. As far as I can tell, this movie has no such misplaced sponsorship.... except maybe a ski resort? They never name the place so it seems unlikely, but I wouldn’t rule out the possibility that it’s at least based on a real location. There seems to be an onsen on-site and that absolutely sounds like a relaxing way to spend an evening after a day on the ski slopes so it’s probably a real thing at one or more ski resorts in the country.

To wrap this up, I want to reiterate that everything about this film works extraordinarily well. They establish a central conflict early, reinforce it in subtle ways, and resolve it to create the climax. The villains are threatening and demonstrate their power well, countering the girls’ strongest attacks with little effort and almost winning at the halfway point. Incidentally, the basic plot of both movies so far is the same: the villain beats the girls because of internal strife, only for them to get their act together and have a Big Damn Heroes moment to defeat them in the climax with help from a new form. However, as I stated at the outset, I love this movie a lot more than the first one, because the conflict is between two characters we know have good intentions and not just from Nagisa getting annoyed because a frog was being an ass. The Precure movies range in quality from damn near perfect (this) to acceptable popcorn entertainment (Dream Stars, Go Princess movie) but I’m glad that they started off strong. Next time, we return to the series proper for Fuji-P’s birthday!

Pink Precure Catchphrase Count: Amazingly, 0 “Arienai”. I went back and checked a few times.

[linny-of-the-lakes]

The F-word is 'Force'

Deadpool 2 fanfic, idk why I do these things

Summary: Don't be fucking mean, Nathan reminded himself, when a reproachful look from Domino made him realize he was glaring. Kid's an orphan. And abused. Probably in ways you don't want to think about. But at least he wouldn't have to grow up in a hellscape like Hope would. Well, fuck. It was his responsibility to prevent Firefist's future reign of terror, it was not his responsibility to like the kid. Which he explained to Domino when they were alone in the kitchen that evening, over weak beers that felt stronger on an empty stomach.

Dom just shrugged, looking nonplussed. "I get it. You miss them."

Nathan grunted, in what Louise would have called 'the hypermasculine-emotionally-closed-off version of a yes'.

"And anyway, he has Wade," she added, and for half a second there was the barest trace of a smirk in her eyes, before it disappeared into a look of complete poker-face sincerity.

Nathan had seen a lot of battle aftermaths. He knew even the victories could be hard on people. In those moments, he was used to putting the combat firmly behind him and kicking back for a couple beers with his comrades as if nothing had happened. Well, that was fucked now. He could have imagined after-combat drinks with Domino, all charm and confidence and enough raw skill to make him kind of want to buy her drinks all night and talk shop, not sex.  Or the big Russian fucker. He looked like one of those by-the-book guys who took things serious, which Nathan respected, and he probably crushed vodka like a pro. Hell, he would even grudgingly sit down with Wilson. Wilson was a psycho, but Nathan had already decided he was worth keeping around, sealed that decision in the flow of the timestream, and lead, and blood. Wilson had found a solution to this whole mess, and if he could do that, then his fucked-up perspective was clearly unique enough to be useful. Wilson would flirt and natter at him in turn all night while they drank, and Nathan would let him, and each successive drink would make it easier to imagine Wilson filling the void of his wife, Louise, who nattered just like that in her wonderful way. Now so far away, but safe, and safer if he kept away from her. Separated by a couple decades. Yeah. 

But then there was the fucking kid. Wedged in between him and Domino in the back of Dopinder’s (now rather bloody) yellow cab, all hunched up and quiet.

In the end, the X-contingent had taken Domino’s magic schoolbus back to the Mansion to negotiate getting Wilson and the kid taken off whatever official shit-lists Xavier might have power over and figure out what to do with several dozen shellshocked and traumatized mutant kids, which left Cable and Domino and Wade and Russell to get a ride with Dopinder back to the old blind lady’s apartment, because Wade had apparently blown his own apartment to shit not too long ago.

At first Russell had seemed to derive some kind of peace from the death of that creepy kidfucker headmaster. Domino had put an arm around him and murmured, “We outlived the bastard, honey, it’s gonna get better now,”. And Russell had grinned up at her with a little too much of a glint in his eye, making Nathan reach for the stuffed bear to reassure himself the thing was still free of ash and blood. Maybe the chubby little motherfucker wasn’t a mass murderer any more, but he still had a vengeful streak.

And Wade Wilson, thus far a necessary buffer between Cable and his quarry, had the audacity to fall asleep in the front seat on the way back. Domino soon followed, declaring that she could cat-nap anywhere. So now it was just Nathan and Russell fucking Collins, in uncomfortably close proximity, while Dopinder played some kind of self-help motivational bullshit at very low volume in the front seat. Russell had gone from animated to silent and overwhelmed-looking, and he kept casting nervous little glances in Nathan’s direction. Nathan, meanwhile, glared.

The kid was not what he had expected. The Firefist of Cable’s own time was close to a hundred years old, though he was effectively ageless thanks to the work of a bodysculptor mutant in his inner cadre. One of these huge six-foot-seven Pacific Islander guys, just built like a brick shithouse. Well, either future Firefist had been cheating with the bodysculptor for height and muscle tone or puberty was going to hit this kid like a fucking meteor. At this point in the time stream he was maybe five-foot-two in shoes and about as physically unintimidating as it was possible for anybody with flamethrowers in their hands to be. The scared brown eyes that peered up at Nathan through a fringe of sweat-flattened hair had purple bruises around them like he’d been slugged recently. If not for the powers and the weird-ass Kiwi accent, Nathan would have thought he had the wrong guy.

But as he’d had time to observe the kid, he’d seen the beginnings of Firefist’s resourcefulness and determination, and his ability to pull powerful people into his orbit (seriously, how the fuck had he managed to escape an ultrasecure prison transport truck and get the Juggernaut in his back pocket in one swoop?). And the anger. Oh, yes. The anger had been more than enough to convince Nathan he was too far gone, but Wade had known, somehow. And Nathan couldn’t say he wasn’t grateful. Future warlord or not, he didn’t want to have to kill a fucking kid. But that didn’t mean he had to trust Russell a single inch – no, he was going to be watching that little fucker, lest he drift back over the line and become the future monster all over again.     “Are you still gonna kill me?” asked Russell, out of nowhere, as if he’d plucked the thought from Nathan’s brain.

“Nah.” Nathan stretched, dropping his glare hastily away. Maybe an explanation was owed. “Future you was on my shit list, but I think we changed time streams when you didn’t kill the pervert.”

“I wanted to.”

“Ya didn’t.”

“What did I do to you?” He chewed his lip momentarily. “Er. Will I do? Was I going to have done?”

“Yeah, I don’t think English has tenses for this shit.” Nathan sighed. He realized abruptly that he didn’t want to tell the kid he was, or even would have been, destined to become a monster. But he’d never been one for mincing words. “Long time from now. You kill my family. Wife and daughter. Burn them to death.”

The kid turned away, staring at his hands. “I was afraid of that,” he mumbled, in a thick voice. Oh, god, I made him fucking cry. Yep, the kid’s face was all scrunched up and there was moisture glinting in his eyes. And it was some kind of primordial physiological bullshit that made Nathan react the same way he would to his daughter Hope’s tears. Awkwardly. But wanting more than anything to fix it. So he held out the teddy bear.

“Do you see soot on this thing?”

Russell shook his head, not looking up. “I was just so angry, I-I didn’t – I don’t want to be like him-”

“So don't be,” said Nathan, a little too gruffly. On the other side of Russell he saw Domino crack a golden eye open in silent warning, and winced. Okay, try again. “You just need to keep… deciding not to murder people.”

This was probably even worse, but Russell stopped whimpering just long enough to arch an eyebrow at him. “No killing ever? That’s fucking hypocritical.”

“Huh.” Nathan took a moment to try to figure out how to articulate the need for dispassionate action in his line of work and how not one in ten soldiers actually had that quality but sometimes you could fake it with extreme discipline, took one look at the kid, and gave up. “You’re fourteen.”

“I’ve seen some shit. I’m basically an adult.”

“No you’re not.” Nathan sighed. “It’s not your responsibility to kill people like him.”

“Whose is it then?” Russell stared at the road up ahead, scowling.

“Mine,” put in Dopinder.

“That was dope.” The memory seemed to get a bit of a smile out of the kid. It didn’t last. “But we were in that place because everybody in the whole world thought we were somebody else’s problem.” Russell’s eyes had gone steely. “People knew, y’know. Essex wasn’t a fucking secret. People could have stopped him and nobody did shit.”

Christ. He had something like a point there, even if Nathan couldn’t afford to admit it. “Yeah. The system failed you. Thing about killing, though, kid. The first time you do it it feels good. But it eats you up inside after. The thrill ain’t worth the guilt. But every time after that it gets a little easier to take, and pretty soon it’s all thrill, no guilt. And in the face of that, you gotta keep hold of your morals. Nobody your age should have to work against that. ‘Specially not you.”

“Because I’ll fuck it up,” the kid surmised, bleakly.

“Yep. Not your fault, really. Just how it is.”

“I knew I’d never be a superhero.”

Nathan relented a little. “Come back in eight years when you know what you’re doing with your powers and maybe we’ll talk. Maybe.”

Russell made a frustrated noise and knuckled the tears out of his eyes, burrowing into Domino’s side for a cuddle. Nathan let his grip on the unblemished teddy bear relax a little. Alright, maybe watching the kid like a hawk would be overkill. He’d… keep an eye on him.

-

They spent the next day or so at Althea's apartment, nobody quite sure where they were going to go next. Nathan had long since perfected the military art of not appearing to give a shit about his physical circumstances, so their accommodations didn’t bother him, but he kept to himself, kept closed-off and quiet. He had been mentally prepared for death, or for going home to his family and to the familiar bittersweet guilt of an ugly victory. Not for this... horrible lukewarm limbo. He'd made the decision to save Wade Wilson, and even now, he didn't think it was the wrong one. His family were alive, and safer now that he was too far away to make them a target. He had an opportunity to fix the past and give his daughter the kind of life he'd never had. He just... might not see them again until he could get the time travel device fixed, and that might be years from now. Or never. So Nathan gritted his teeth and worked on gun repairs and made Plans, and tried to think about anything other than how Louise would have hit it off so well with Domino, or how Hope would have been amazed at the scrubby daylilies that bloomed in the front yard (real flowers were the stuff of fairytales in his time, gone the way of most green things you couldn't grow in underground vats). 

Domino, who told him her real name was Neena, was a quiet blessing, a thoughtful cup of coffee or word of encouragement offered without excessive sympathy. Wade was too, in his own weird, twisted way. His burble of seemingly random commentary ended up being a very necessary distraction. He wanted to talk X-Force, and correcting Wade's various tactical blunders was a real intellectual exercise, but he also wanted to introduce Nathan to the wonders of the early 21st century. Nathan liked video games. The blam-blam stab-stab kind, mostly. Or The Sims. That game was like inhabiting the pages of a nostalgic, dreamlike history book where you could also make hideously ugly people and then drown them in a pool just by removing the fucking ladder. Great shit.

Russell's presence was grating. The kid was behaving, more or less, minus some bickering with Wade over shit that had gone down in the icebox and some standard teenaged whining about being made to help Althea with cleaning, but he didn't need to do anything to piss Nathan off. He was the reason Nathan had been forced to come back here in the first place. Any way you sliced it, future mass murderer or permanently redeemed, he was still the catalyst that had separated Nathan from his daughter. He should have been with Hope right now. His bright, effervescent daughter with her mother's beautiful eyes and her clever questions and the endless optimism of a summer's day. And instead she'd been supplanted by a mean-spirited, overweight juvenile delinquent, like the swapping of the infant Esmeralda for changeling Quasimodo. 

Don't be fucking mean, Nathan reminded himself, when a reproachful look from Domino made him realize he was glaring. Kid's an orphan. And abused. Probably in ways you don't want to think about. But at least he wouldn't have to grow up in a hellscape like Hope would. Well, fuck. It was his responsibility to prevent Firefist's future reign of terror, it was not his responsibility to like the kid. Which he explained to Domino when they were alone in the kitchen that evening, over weak beers that felt stronger on an empty stomach. 

Dom just shrugged, looking nonplussed. "I get it. You miss them."

Nathan grunted, in what Louise would have called 'the hypermasculine-emotionally-closed-off version of a yes'. 

"And anyway, he has Wade," she added, and for half a second there was the barest trace of a smirk in her eyes, before it disappeared into a look of complete poker-face sincerity. 

Ah, yes, Wade Fucking Wilson, mercenary and occasional coke-head with obvious psychoses and a soul rubbed as raw and bloody as Russell’s was. Not a bad guy. Nathan kind of liked the chatty freak, despite himself. But not father material.

“Wade, are you fuckin’ serious about this family shit?” Nathan asked him through gritted teeth, when Wade padded in for a beer and Russell was safely out of earshot.

Wade’s brown eyes looked almost hurt. “Yeah. Yeah, I am. I know me and ‘serious’ go together like Roseann Barr and twitter’s abuse policy, but this actually matters to me. Everybody else wrote that kid off. Including you. And the only thing I took from ninth grade English class aside from the precise, perfect shape of Mr. Hawthorne’s ass was that The Apprenticeship of Duddy Kravitz was about a self-fulfilling prophesy and if you treat someone like a villain they'll become one.” Seeing the look on Nathan’s face, he frowned. “Right, you wouldn’t have read that book, you’re American. Future-American. Hey, how’s Canada doing in the future, by the way?”

“Shitty. The climate went to hell, your major cities flooded or got eaten by glaciers.”

“Is Ben Mulroney still alive? No, don’t tell me, nothing can kill him, he’s too powerful. ANYWAY. I fully intend to be the tragically disfigured dad that adorable little arsonist never knew he wanted.”

The really fucked-up thing was that Nathan believed him. Shaking his head in horrified amazement, he followed Wade to the living room, where he and Russell were halfway through some kind of... musical theatre film. Something evidently set even further into the past than 2018, which the case proclaimed to be Les Miserables. Wade plonked down next to Russell and gave the kid’s hair a short, tentative little pet. 

To Nathan’s surprise, the kid not only let him, but rested his head against Wade’s shoulder. 

Nathan shrugged, and sat down to watch. And was disturbed to find that it was giving him Emotions. 

They killed the video over the last belted harmonic chorus, and Wade turned to Russell. "So, kid, what did you learn?"

"Fuck Russell Crowe. That cunt abandoned New Zealand and he can’t even sing."

"Excellent,” said Wade, with evident pride. “Not to mention he’s the reason we had to get discount Thanos, so fuck him, but like, morals?" Wade turned to Cable and Dom and flashed a thumbs up and a look how well parenthood is going grin. 

Russell considered this for a moment. "...Instead of fighting my enemies, convince them to commit suicide?"

"I probably shouldn't have showed you Oklahoma! before this."

Christ. Nathan put his head in his hands. "All that shit about redemption and fatherhood and the futility of war and sparing the cop's life and that's all you two chucklefucks have to say?"

Wade grinned at him. "Whoah, so much depth! I could just dive into you, Terminator 2. You be Javert, I'll be Wolverine, we can get our Foe Yay on."

He felt like he’d just been either insulted or propositioned, but he wasn’t sure which. “I don’t want to be Russell Crowe,” Nathan objected, a little helplessly. Maybe he ought to have just been grateful the kid wasn’t in a murderous rage over the Thenardiers.

Russell shrugged, apparently unmoved. "Wade, have you got anything to eat?"

"Yeah, I keep some cereal above the sink."

Nathan raised his head, in time to watch with dawning horror as the kid got up, filled a huge bowl with milky Lucky Charms and settled back down on the couch. Nathan knew Lucky Charms. They were still selling them in his own time. Probably the same recipe and everything. They were, as far as he could tell, 90% sugar and 10% wood shavings. His daughter loved them and was not allowed them ever. "Wilson, you can't just give him fuckin' Lucky Charms for dinner."

Both Wade and Russell looked up at him with a mixture of offense and genuine confusion. Nathan didn't know why he was even surprised. Russell would take whatever he was given, and Wade was still a fucking child himself, so why on earth would he know any better? "It's not food."

This won him even more confused looks. "Sure it is," Wade argued, hopping up to investigate the box. "It's got... niacin, that sounds important, right?"

Nathan growled. A frustrated growl of defeat. Of responsibility. He turned and opened the fridge to conduct a rapid inventory of items he'd need to replace for Althea later. "I'll cook something. Wade, take that shit away from him. Russell, set the table." 

"He cooks! Sweet Bea Arthur I'm in love."

"We haven’t even got a table,” Russell pointed out, glowering at his bowl of cereal as Wade snatched it away and started eating it himself.

“Well – set something. And go wash your hands.”

He was alarmed to realize he’d used the same autopilot Dad Voice he used on Hope when she was being difficult. To his surprise, it worked; Russell gave up trying to paw the cereal back from Wade and went off to dig up knives and forks.

“What voodoo was that?” asked Wade, staring with interest as Nathan chopped vegetables.

“It’s called parenting,” Nathan growled back. Too harsh, maybe, but now he was pissed off. Wade had said he was serious, and sure, Nathan had known not to expect actual good judgment out of him, but the kid deserved better than this, dammit.

He didn’t know when exactly he’d decided that the kid deserved anything besides a bullet in the spleen, but apparently he had. Probably the fucking musical making him soft.

-

Russell could not stay with Wade, in the end. There was a place for him at Xavier’s, thanks in no small part to Colossus and his two young wards. Xavier’s could offer him stability, training, education, and a huge extended family of almost aggressively supportive mutants; it was very clearly the best possible place for him. Nathan would have put his foot down if he’d needed to, but Wade seemed to accept and understand this, demonstrating more maturity and self-awareness than anyone had dared to expect. It helped that he’d been given carte blanche to visit whenever he wanted. The Professor hadn’t been happy about a known killer lurking the halls of his house - right up until, at the end of his very first day at the Academy, Russell had a sudden, apparently causeless freakout and nearly blew a hole through the handsome oak-panelled walls in sheer panic. Only Wade had been able to talk him down, eventually coaxing from the kid a panicky stream-of-consciousness babble of an apology.

“-They gave me my own room and there’s mutants using all their powers and everybody smiles at me, Wade, it’s a fucking trap, isn’t it, or – or I’m dreaming, that’s it, right? It can’t really be this good – Fuck, I don’t belong somewhere this nice, I’m gonna burn something by accident and get thrown out -”

Nathan had to leave halfway through because it was all a little too Emotional, but not before he got the basic picture. Russell, who’d accepted getting the crap beat out of him in mutant prison without batting a blackened eye, didn’t know how to deal with people being even minimally nice to him. Wade did an admirable job calming him down with a stream of jokes and weirdly sincere reassurances and more jokes, and nobody was questioning the need to keep him around after that.

Wade’s visits suited Nathan just fine, too. He’d been offered a place to stay for a couple months, and a part-time job to boot. Charles Xavier, who was every inch the serene all-knowing bastard the history books made him out to be, sat him down and told him, teach the students the skills they may someday need to survive. But more importantly, teach them not to make the mistakes that bring about a world where those skills are necessary. Teach them to fight wars by preventing them. And try not to let Cyclops know your real name, hm, Mr. Summers?

So basically the students knew him only as Cable, and he was their own personal warning oracle from the future slash hardass gym teacher. It was a useful day job. Put him in an excellent tactical position for moonlighting X-Force plans.

Today, Wade, in full red condom-wrapper suit minus the usual surplus of weaponry, found him at the edge of the Mansion’s running track, sweating in the summer noon sun and watching twelve teenagers do laps. And naturally the first thing that caught Wade’s attention was the pair of running shorts Nathan had on for the day. They were, admittedly, a little shorter than he was entirely comfortable with. It was hot out. And he hadn’t known Wade was coming, dammit.

He’d suspected, but that wasn’t the point. Wade tried to snap the waistband on him. Nathan broke his wrist.

“Oww. You know, I was gonna say the Richard Simmons look wasn’t ‘you’, but it’s really growing on me. ‘It’ being my erection. This is probably a conversation we shouldn’t have in front of running teenagers, huh?”

Nathan wasn’t touching more or less all of that. He stared straight ahead, face stoic. “Thought Canadians said ‘eh’, not ‘huh’.”

“Urban myth. The thing about the syrup heist is true, though. How’s our boy doin’?”

On the running track a hundred yards away, Russell was pulling up the very rear, red-faced and dragging his feet. “Swear the chubby little fucker’s never run a day in his life before this,” grunted Nathan, and then called out in the direction of the track, “Let’s see some hustle, Russell!”

Russell groaned and flipped them both the bird, but not before he picked up the pace.

It was hard to tell, behind the red mask, but Nathan was pretty sure Wade was staring at him. “Was that… was that… it was.”

“What?”

“A goddamn dad joke.”

Nathan played dumb. It was all he could do.

When Wade’s cackling had run down, he tilted his head at Nathan, managing to look imploring behind the surface of the mask. “Will you teach me? I want to know the Ways of the Dad. Ideally in a quick training montage to the tune of Cat’s in the Cradle. I want to barbecue and play catch and call him ‘sport’ and embarrass him in ten years by developing regressive political ideas.”

“Get yourself a fanny pack,” Nathan deadpanned.

“I knew it was a fucking fanny pack!”

“They’re better for lumbar weight distribution than a backpack,” Nathan grumbled. He wore one because he was getting old, his joints rebelling, and he did not give a flying fuck what anyone thought of him. And yet, with Wade, he felt the need to justify the damn thing. “I’m a pretty shit dad, Wade. Don’t make me your model.”

“You’re good with Russell,” Wade pointed out. “He does what you say even when he’s being a pen in the ass. Pain. I meant pain.”

“Yeah, well, discipline’s easy. Russell was a foster kid for ages before Essex got him. Needs structure, bad.” Discipline was easy, for an army joe like him. With Hope, he had always been the strict one, the parent who laid down the law. Although, funny, it was still him she always came to when she really wanted something. “I can’t do any of that emotional shit though. Louise was always sayin’ I wasn’t ‘present’.” He scrubbed at his face with his hand, mopping away summer sweat. “She was right. First couple years of Hope’s life I was one frigid son of a bitch to her. And now I’ve abandoned them to fix the past. Talk about a deadbeat.”

“Uh, you had to do that to save me,” Wade pointed out. “So really you abandoned your family for a man you’d just met, yet had unforgettable chemistry with – huh, I guess that’s worse, isn’t it?”

Nathan nodded, grimacing. It was probably too late to bother trying to convince Wade he hadn’t consciously decided to keep the merc around. “Worst thing is I kinda like it here. This era. Doing what I’m doing. What kind of father…”

“Oh my gooood.” Wade groaned. “I thought they were abandoning the whole messiah complex thing from the comics when you decided to kill Sarah-Connor-in-the-first-movie-before-she-could-do-chinups! Are you seriously beating yourself up about abandoning your family? Just Chronicles of Narnia that shit! As soon as you get your time travel McGuffin fixed just go back to the exact moment you left!”

“Huh.” He had known he could do that, obviously, but it hadn’t really sunk in that weeks or months or even years spent here, with Wade and Russell and Dom, didn’t need to change a thing for his family. If anything, his arrival time would be more precise if he delayed, as the time gap slowly shrank. Sure, he’d be a couple years older when he got back, but it wasn’t old age that was gonna kill him. “I guess.”

“See? Not a shit dad.”

“I’m still crap at the whole…” Nathan gesticulated vaguely, not sure how to say it. “…Emotional Vulnerability stuff.”

“Ahh, yes, you’re a repressed alpha male. The strong, silent, toxic masculinity type.”

That irritated him. “Go fuck yourself, Wilson. At least I’m fucking trying. It was always hard with my daughter. I learned to do it. Way too late. Russell, though? I look at that kid and I have no idea what he’s feeling.”

“It’s usually rage,” said Wade, helpfully.

“You said you’d been in his shoes.”

“Oh, Jesus, yes.” Incongruously, Wade laughed. “He’s a pyro, I’m trigger-happy, we get each other. Hell, there’s even national similarities. He was parentally abandoned in New Zealand, or as I like to call it, Down Canada.” It was unclear whether the implication that Wade had also been parentally abandoned was intentional. Prism of humour again. Wade burbled on. “Y’know, If we do get your time travel thingy fixed I want to re-do the orphanage fight again just so I can kill more pedophiles with a brick. It was therapeutic.”

“I think he needs you.”

Wade shut his mouth, turned, tilted his head. The wide-eyed, grateful surprise was visible even through the mask. “Vanessa said the same thing.”

Nathan smiled. Just a little. “Look, tell you what. You keep going with the bonding, touchy-feely-”

“-But not inappropriately,” Wade cut in, sing-song-

“-All that shit. You’re actually pretty good at that stuff. And I’ll stick around to make sure he does his homework and occasionally eats something green.” Nathan rolled his eyes. “God knows I don’t fuckin’ trust you to.”

“You mean… co-dad? Dad Team? Russell gets two dads?” Wade made a little high-pitched noise, leapt into the air and actually fucking clicked his heels. “DAD TEAM! DAD-FORCE!”

Nathan groaned. And to think, Hope had always said he was the embarrassing parent. “Can you not?” But Wade was already bounding towards their boy to tell him the good news.

Nathan still would have preferred to be home, all things being equal. But all things were not equal. If he was Jean ValJean, then these idiots were his Cosette. They needed him, and maybe he could use the second chance.