#not beyond the alien telephone I guess...

[sp3akfromtheart]

an alien telephone fell through the rift?! torchwood's finest are on the case...

[rokutouxei]

in future tense

part 3 of: atelier heart

ikemen vampire: temptation in the dark theodorus van gogh / mc | gen | 2565 | [ao3 in bio]

She and Theo were born and lived in times a hundred years apart. In the weeks they're together, she and Theo attempt to understand their time-separated worlds through a back and forth of trivia. But Theo learns much more than just what it's like to be in the 21st century.

spoiler warning: a conversation between MC and Theo in chapter 4 of his route is referenced.

What does it mean to be born in the 21st century?

Theo tries his best to imagine what it would be like, in a world more than a hundred years from his now; his “now” which is already ten years ahead of his “then”, before vampires, before Comte. And yet even in his wildest imaginations he can’t seem to grasp what it would mean to live in the future; time is instead a looping spiral instead of straight arrow, the kind he used to imagine it was.

When he takes her out into the city the day after she arrived, it’s her first time out of the mansion, into the world that is late 19th century Paris, France. To Theo, nothing really strikes him as different or interesting in this time period; sure, the fashion has changed a little from when before he was turned, and maybe there were a few different landmarks here and there, but nothing that was enough to warrant the look on her face, that was, in two words: entirely wonderstruck.

Eyes as wide as saucers like an excited child, an unashamed smile on her face. At the most mundane things too: the architecture, the cobblestone streets, turns her head at carriages like she had never seen one in her entire life before this point. She observes the ladies passing by, her eyes roaming over their clothes, and then turning back towards her own rather simple set—le Comte hadn’t had a chance to have clothes tailored for her yet, but soon he will. For now, she tugs at her sleeves and runs her hands over her dress like trying her best not to seem like she’s trying too hard to fit in, like these clothes aren’t hers to begin with, like this isn’t the world she belongs to.

And yet, instead, she does the opposite: carries the aura of being someone otherworldly, not entirely alien but at the same time—so strikingly unfamiliar.

At that moment, the image of a recognizable painting fills Theo’s mind, one he’d seen at an auction once, and he wonders if it is rather too on-brand of him as an art dealer to think of such a parallel like that.

Meisje met tulband, painted in the 17th century by Johannes Vermeer, during the Dutch Golden Age. An obviously European woman in what seems like clothes borrowed from worldly trips far from the embrace of home. During this time, what was exotic was valuable. It illuminated experience, knowledge of a bigger world beyond the borders of the mountains and seas. On her head, a turban from an Eastern country, on her frame, clothes that do not suit the style of European garb. But most importantly: a pearl earring, large and glimmering, treasure of the faraway seas, hovering just underneath her ear like hesitating if it actually hangs from it or if it is only an illusion of grandiosity.

So attractive, in all her exoticism, pulled back from the gray of European normal, that is known and familiar and comfortable, standing above all others.

And yet so remarkably out of place.

So on the first week, she and Theo make a deal.

For every thing about the 19th century that Theo explains to her, she would tell him something about the 21st century in exchange. A fair deal, Theo thinks. This is what he can give her. Just a trade of information: nothing too personal to be shared, nothing too involved. This guarantees that both of their curiosities are satisfied, and—well, Theo will never say it out loud, but—this is also his way of getting to know each other in tiny, unobtrusive ways.

Not enough to make a difference, of course, he thinks. He doesn’t want there to be a difference. If he’s keeping her by his side at all times to monitor her, he’ll just have to do his fair share of understanding who he’s working with. That’s about it.

Except there was one thing Theo did not get to add onto his assumptions: that the woman never runs out of questions.

Sure, she has the hindsight of having been born in the time when this has all technically already happened, already a time long past her—time is a spiral, or something, Theo reminds himself—but the reality of having to live all this is still way beyond her. So she doesn’t stop asking. Even about the most trivial of things.

It drives Theo insane.

Like what kinds of clothes people find fashionable. (“You could see it on the street.” “Well, yeah, but I wanted to know what you found fashionable.” “I don’t really care.” “You’re boring.”)

Or if ankles are still scandalous things. (A squint of eyebrows. “Dresses are often supposed to touch the floor.” “Not where I’m from. You’ll see much more than just ankles.” “…Knees?” “…Thighs. Or more.” “…Why.” “Why not?”)

And what kind of things people enjoy. (“Séances? Sounds scary.” “Others talk in flower codes.” “Oh! We still have that in the future! Kinda.”)

Also, if Kings and Queens are still “a thing” (her words)—and she can’t seem to believe him when he says they do, still, in fact, exist, and reign over nations. (“So instead, you have, democracy, you call it?” “Well, we’re trying.”)

But even if she always seems so awed by the workings of this era, somehow it is Theo who is left much more bewildered with the stories she tells. While she listens to him with this kind of avid wonder, the kind a child would have to a storytelling adult, Theo sits next to her like a skeptic, incredulous, mind unable to process what she is saying.

Like, what is an internet? The inter-, he figures out, but a net? Of what?

“It’s a network! That’s what the net stands for. So it’s kind of like a group of people, who get to talk, but digital.”

“Digital? What do fingers have to do with his?”

“Fingers? …oh, because digits. Um. No, it’s kind of like… a space that… you can’t touch? It’s sort of… mental?”

Theo doesn’t have a follow-up question because he doesn’t know how to follow-up to that. He just kind of looks like her like she grew a second head. Can this much change really happen in a hundred years or so? Why is her world so foreign from his?

But it doesn’t deter him. He listens intently to her stories about art in a hundred years. Cameras so small, they can fit in your pocket, so fast they can take a photo in a second. Artworks made not of canvas and paint, but of, again, this “digital” medium, which is accessible to nearly the entire world. And because of this “internet”, everyone who has it can both make and see art so easily—and they can fit these in their “cell phones”, hand-held telephones that can connect to nearly anyone… without wires!

And with each and every one of her attempts to explain the overwhelming time she used to come from, something inside Theo grows, a feeling he does not understand yet. It’s dizzying—but he cannot stop listening.

So he doesn’t stop answering either.

By the second week, whenever their schedule allows, he takes her to museums, introduces her to art movements that have flourished, are only beginning to flourish. Occasionally, she will point at one and say, “Oh, that one’s pretty famous in the future!” and Theo feels a sense of pride. The appreciation for art and beauty is one of the many things that transcends time—if the world allows it to.

He’s far from Comte’s level of elite, but he takes her to shops anyway, to see what things are in stores. The feeling that sits in Theo’s chest only grows as she points at things and says, “That’s a classic vintage piece. I’ve seen those a lot in museums,” and sooner than Theo would like, every mention of time gives him that feeling of distance, pulls her away from him.

So far away.

The fact keeps pressing itself into Theo’s brain, that she doesn’t belong here, she is only a tourist, she is only here for a short while.

The world is a gentler place in that time she is from. He doesn’t want to selfishly keep her here.

(But if he could, if she would, maybe, he wouldn’t be opposed to it.)

Shortly after a conversation about traveling from her home country to Paris in the 21st century—“You can get halfway across the world in half a day?” “Yeah, non-stop flights do that. 900 people in a single ride.” “…I find it hard to believe you.” “You don’t have to, it won’t change the fact.”—that last remark pushes Theo to finally, finally ask the question that he has held hesitantly in his mouth for the longest time.

“What’s it like, sitting here in the 19th century, knowing the future?”

She doesn’t answer for a moment, her eyes shifting off to one side, away from Theo, as she ponders on his question. Theo takes this time to observe her instead—the way she holds herself up now, so comfortable, rather confident in her 19th century clothing, the little ways she’s learned the mannerisms apt for the time. She’s so different from the girl he’d seen that first night, trembling, afraid of a (well-meaning) nightmare.

Ah, yes, yet another reminder that she does not belong here.

Not with him. Not like this.

Theo snaps back into focus once she speaks. “It’s a little conflicting to me,” she begins. “I don’t know how time works, so somehow it both feels like much of it is already set in stone, but also there are so many more things that can change.” She turns to him, meeting his gaze. “But what I’m sure of is that everything you’re doing now is going to have an impact on the future—I guess I’ll see it when I get back.”

(Theo withers ever so slightly, but not enough for her to notice.)

She continues. “It’s a little scary too, because historically—well, I guess it’s not history yet, but, there are still a lot of bad things that will happen, in the next hundred years. So many.” She cringes. “But after that? There are also so many good things that will happen. Things that—well, I haven’t stayed long enough here to say for sure, but—I think many of the good things that will happen by then still seem unthinkable now. The same way you don’t believe me sometimes. But they will happen.”

And she’s so sure of it: tells him that millions of people of all ages, classes, and nationalities go to museums to enjoy art—even Vincent’s!—in the future. That some of them even get to go for free, that the world’s governments actually want people to be in any degree appreciative of art. She tells him how she could just look up a painting on her “cell phone” and she would already be able to experience it, in a way. She tells him that so much of the world revolves around art being accessible, that people don’t even think about it too much anymore. It’s just normal.

“You won’t believe it, Theo,” she says. “Art is everywhere.”

She reminds him of the sunrise.

The sunrise he’s long dreamt of—the dawn of the new era of Art, in a better world where artists are free to make what they want to make, to showcase their work, to continuously push the barriers of the human understanding of beauty and creation. The fact that she’s come from that time doesn’t only make her a reminder of it—but also an assurance, that all of this will pay off, that he is making a difference.

He may not have been one of the chosen ones, the gifted ones, who had extraordinary talents, who could, with a wave of their hand, change the turning of the world, influence society, but—he has something he can do.

And she believes in him.

Why does it make him feel so much steadier just knowing she believes in him?

He is no one. He is nobody important. They can give him names now, call him the Phantom of Goupil, but in the long stretch of time after this, in a hundred years, in a thousand—he will be no one. History will eventually forget his name—and Theo has long accepted this truth. And if he doesn’t have much to offer to time, he has much less for her. The 19th century is no match to the 21st century’s innovations and astonishing development. He is just a plain man from a backwards time.

But at some point in the past few weeks with her, that feeling he’s once again started to ask if he could reclaim has grown in him. The desire to be remembered.

Not by the world, not by history—just by her.

Even a hundred years into the future.

There are a lot of things Theo doesn’t know yet about what’s to come. But if there is one thing about art that he knows is consistent across time, it’s that a single piece of art has the power to change something fundamental in people: the way they see life, the way they see art, the way they think about the world, the way they feel. A fateful encounter not only with the piece of art itself, but with the moment in which one meets it. The feeling that rushes, that consumes, the recognition: that one’s life has now been altered, irrevocably, by that one piece of art.

It is falling in love, but greater.

Theo really thought he would never find the capacity to ever feel that way again. That that moment, with that painting, is the pinnacle of what his heart can take.

But now he knows he isn’t.

Now he knows it isn’t, so he prays.

He doesn’t have much to give, but he prays.

That maybe she will give him the taste of it. Carve the shape of it in his mouth.

Down his throat. Chase it down into the pit of his belly where the acid of his self-resentment remains. Let it echo in his veins.

And if she does—his voice will scramble will to make sense of the sound, and he will settle for other ways to let himself be heard, the strained vocal cords of his heart, calling her hondje, knabbeltje, the only way he knows how. To say “this is for you.” To tell her how good she’s been to him, so obedient. To scoff at her rebuttals. To join in her laughter. To tell her things only the hollow in the center of his chest he’d long shouted at have ever heard.

Oh, she doesn’t even need to ask.

The fact dissolves like something bitter turning sweet, sweet, impossibly sweet on his tongue.

She doesn’t need to do much of anything: she just needs to stay.

To forgive his grumbling, his shaking footsteps, his frequent step-backs into a past that has long left him behind. To look back over her shoulder, call out his name in the star-like lilt of her voice, Theo?

And he will give her everything.

---

in the atelier: The Girl with the Pearl Earring, by Johannes Vermeer, 1665.

this is just a fun trivia thing, but the title "the Girl with the Pearl Earring" (Meisje met de parel in Dutch) was apparently only given to the painting in 1995. i didn't find what it was called much earlier (it was auctioned somewhere in the Hague in 1881, bought by a private collector), but after it was transferred to the Mauritshuis (also in the Hague) in 1902, it was called "Girl with a Turban" (Meisje met tulband). that's kind of why i decided to go for the more obscure / older name.

[jungcity]

from saint. | love, eternal.

7:08 AM. 20** 

What should I call you? But hi, diary. I am Saint. Saint Jung. Son of Jung Jaehyun and Y/N Jung. Today, I am seven years old. I asked Daddy Taeyong to buy me a really, really, really old diary. I don’t know where he found you, but I am glad to write on you. 

Mom is busy, so is Dad. They said seventh birthday is important and must be grandiose (I hope I spelled that right). But to be honest, I want it to be as simple as possible. Since I am not really comfortable with parties. Dad insists I should wear suit (it’s itchy), but Mom only laughed at him and told me I should wear something casual.

Mom has been cooking all night long for my birthday. Dad said we could order food in a restaurant, or we could contact a famous chef from Seoul to cook my birthday dishes. I don’t know if this is my birthday or my parents’. I hope that doesn’t sound disrespectful. 

Yesterday, my zipper’s bag snapped open because of its content. Gladly, I am already inside the limo when it happened. My classmates had thrown me an advanced birthday party at school. Judy, Heidi, Gale, and Anika gave me tons of chocolates. I hope I could eat it all but I have to share some for my family. Mom wouldn’t be pleased if I ever get toothache. 

That’s it for today, diary. 

P.S.: I heard Mom and Dad talking about my angel blood last night. I didn’t understand one bit of their conversation. But I hope I will, someday. 

—

8:26 PM, 20** 

Hi, diary. This is Saint Jung once again. We have written letters for our moms today. Miss Rona was pleased to read mine. She said the letter does not look like it came from a seven year old. Oh, I know, you’d like to read one of the excerpts of my letter right? 

Well, here it is: Mom, thank you for shining like a star in our lives. You are the light in the darkness. I love you. And Dad. 

That’s it. Was it too cheesy? I have to give the letter to Mom. I hope she does not cringe. 

—

3:11 PM, 20** 

This is Saint Jung. I already gave the letters to my Mom. She cried. So hard. I was afraid Dad would scold me when he returned from work. But he only sat with me on the veranda.

It’s odd. Because I was wearing my pajamas and Dad was wearing his suit. Someday, I’d like to be just like him.

He wasn’t mad. In fact, he was glad. And we’ve exchanged stories until I fell asleep. 

“Mom cried,” Saint said, lips quivering. Jaehyun’s heart thudded because of his son’s face. He couldn’t believe this bundle of happiness is his own flesh and blood. 

“Because she was so happy to read your letter,” He patted Saint on his head. 

“Really?” the little boy asked, wiping his eyes off tears. Whenever he looked at his son, it was always like seeing the little version of him.

“Come here, bud.” He smiled. Saint sniffed before sitting on his lap, still wiping his eyes. 

“Did I hurt Mom?” 

Jaehyun let out a chuckle, “Of course, not. You made her so happy today. I am so proud of you, Saint.” 

Then he kissed the little boy on the cheek. Saint giggled, flashing Jaehyun his two deep dimples. 

“Will you write Daddy a letter, too?” He asked, hugging his son tighter. 

“Of course, Daddy.” 

The both of them held each other under the stars. With his arms draped around Saint, and the little hands of his son hugging his torso. They stayed like that for an hour. Exchanging little stories about Jaehyun’s work and Saint’s school. 

“One day, I hope you’ll be happy as I am, Saint.” No response. Then Jaehyun heard soft snores from the little boy. He chuckled. Then he carried his son to his bed, tucked him in, and kissed his forehead. 

—

 9:14 PM. 20** 

Summer vacation has started. And we are here in Greece. All of us. Including my other daddies and Mama Yuqi, and Mama Chaelin. Mama Yuqi brought Zion with him. 

Zion, he is my cousin. Mama Yuqi and Daddy Lucas’ son. He told me we should go explore Greece on our own. That boy. If I inherited my Dad’s silent demeanor, Zion inherited Daddy Lucas’ extroverted side. No wonder Mama Yuqi’s always on edge with him. 

But of course, I said no to his offer. You might call me a bore. And I might be a bore. I just do not want to worry Mom. Dad would never like that. Mama Yuqi said Dad is the human embodiment of petrifying when he’s angry. 

 — 

 8:56 PM. 20** 

Dad and Mom fought. Over apples. I don’t know if I should laugh, or cry. It’s their first time fighting. And it’s… because of an apple that wasn’t precisely cut. 

I stumbled upon Mom and Dad hissing at the kitchen. 

“You’ve been doing this for so long, chérie.” Dad said, frustration was clear in his voice. 

“Why are you so sensitive today?” Mom asked. 

Dad sighed of frustration, “Because—” 

“Mom? Dad? Are you fighting?” 

It was obvious that they were. But Mom quickly hugged Dad and pretended to wipe his mouth. “You are so like a child when you eat!” She pinched Dad on his cheek, and I know that hurts. 

“We’re not, baby.” Dad said through his dimpled smile. 

I shrugged and walked straight to the refrigerator and grabbed some milk. “Dad, what is ‘fuck’?”

By my words, Mom gasps. Dad choked on his apple.

“Where did you learn that word?” Mom asked, kneeling in front of me. 

“Zion said it’s a magic word,” I told her, cupping the box of milk with my little hands. 

Mom turned to Dad, “Call Lucas.” She said. Then she looked at me, “That’s a bad word, honey.” 

I blinked, “Is it Mom? But Zion said it is a holy word. Because fuck creates babies.” 

“Call. Lucas. Now!” Mom repeated, there was a warning in her voice that made Dad dashed for the telephone. 

After that, Zion didn’t talk to me for weeks. Because according to him, I ‘betrayed’ our friendship. But then came his birthday, and my gift, he could not possibly say no to that. And he ended up forgiving me. 

 —

 1:37 AM, 20** 

Hi, this is Saint Jung. You’re probably wondering why I wrote this in such late time. I am now eighteen. Eighteen means parties, girls, and trouble. I just came back from one of Zion’s party. Uncle Lucas, (it’s odd to call him Daddy) and Mama Yuqi had gone to another country to celebrate their anniversary. Leaving their house to Zion’s hands. 

Zion. Alone. Mansion. What did I expect?

It was a mess. There was trouble. Zion made out with different girls tonight. 

But I didn’t. No. I did. I did make out with one girl from my class. Her name’s Veina. (Mom will prolly scold me for this)

We made out. And I think… this is so odd. I shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t be writing this on here.

But her lips, damn, it was like velvet cake against mine. She smelled like lavender with a mix of strawberry. I could not name her scent exactly. She was unique. 

 — 

 3:42 AM, 20** 

I got into a car accident. Right. The good boy Saint in an accident? A nightmare. 

Mom was angry. Dad was furious. 

I feel like shit when Mom cried at the hospital, I hate seeing her cry. And I hate myself to be the one causing her tears. All of my uncles has paid me a visit, with a lot of scolding and pinching ears. Uncle Doyoung was beyond furious, even furious than Dad. With what happened, he postponed giving me a Ferrari. Right. He promised me that car, months ago. But Saint has been a bad boy. 

Zion was laughing and rolling on the floor when he visited me. The only thing that stopped him was the shout of Mama Yuqi. 

And yes. I’d hate to say this, since I don’t want to sound so self-centered and narcissistic, but yeah, a lot of girls had been on the hospital to visit me. Of course, rudeness isn’t in my vocabulary. And I’d feel an absolute jerk if I didn’t show kindness to the girls. Mom is a girl. A woman. Call me old-school, but I believe that when you hurt a girl, it would be like hurting your own mom. 

After all the commotion, Dad sat beside me. While Mom sleeps on the sofa. He sat beside me and I swear, my breath hitched when I saw tears in his eyes. Dad never cried. Or so I thought. 

“Be careful next time,” was his words, before leaning in to me and kissing my forehead. 

I know. Don’t judge me diary. I know it’s cheesy, and unmanly-like. But that’s my Dad. He’s loved every fiber of my being ever since I was born. 

 — 

 11:23 PM, 20** 

I got into a fight. And we had to move houses because of the trouble I’d been into. Worrying Mom is on the very least of my priority. But I guess I’ve been born to worry her. 

Some dickbag in school called Dad an alien. I have to be honest, Mom looked like she’s near her forties. Yet Dad looked like a twenty-three year old man. It doesn’t make sense to me, either. But hearing my Dad being called an alien has sparked an anger inside me I didn’t know existed. 

So I threw the punch. And I hit him until he’s a bloody mess on the school hallway’s floor. Bad temper, I must admit. 

And now we are here. Far from the city. In the middle of the forest. Near Uncle Doyoung’s mansion. Right.

Yes, Zion laughed at me until his chest hurts that he needed a nebulizer to help him breathe again. 

 — 

 4:09 AM. 20**

This is Saint Jung. Twenty-one at long last. I want you to know, diary, that I am writing this entry with bloodshot eyes and alcohol drowning my lungs.

It’s my first time to drink like this. 

But what would you do if your mother and father told you that you’re half-mortal, half-angel? And that you would live a long life. Without a mother. And that your mother would be reincarnated someday? But the take is that she won’t be able to remember you. 

It’s fucked up. It’s beyond me. 

But now I understand. I understand why I seem to have this divinity inside me. Why I could run faster than Zion even in his wolf form. Damn, I should’ve known that something is up with me too, when Zion admitted that he is half-wolf, half-human to me.

I should’ve asked Dad when I felt my system convulsing with power. Of strength. Of something I did not understand then. 

Dad. Wait, diary, I have to process this one. Give me a minute to breathe.

Dad is Lucifer. Right. The banished angel from heaven. The morningstar. The Prince of hell. He is a f u c k i n g angel. And I am a f u c k i n g nephilim. I would’ve ended up not believing it, if only Dad didn’t show his wings. Fuck. Sorry for the curses Mom. I had to.

I couldn’t process this in one night. But I need to. So Mom would never cry in front of my door again. Begging me to open it. 

 — 

 2:29 AM. 20** 

Mom and I, we’ve talked. She showed me a picture of a girl with black hair and blue eyes and told me she was Aurora. Mom said it was her one hundred years ago.

Why am I only knowing all about this now? I don’t have any idea. But I am glad they deemed me worthy for this mind-boggling information. 

Aurora was Mom’s face one hundred years ago. Aurora’s reincarnation was Mom today. 

Mom said she would die one day. Her face would disappear from this world, but her soul will not. She said, with tears in her eyes, that I should wait for her to be back. I should wait for her be reincarnated again. 

She’s my mother. She’s my everything. She’s the only flower in my garden. And Dad. Of course, I will wait for her even it takes her a thousand years to be back.

It hurts. I know that sounds weak. But it hurts. I am hurt. I don’t want to wake up one day without her. I think I’d rather die than be parted away from her. 

“Saint,” Dad called out from behind my door. I stood up and laid the controller on the bed. 

“A minute?” He asked. I nodded and guided him towards the veranda. It was frightening, to see Dad. He was so like me I always thought I’m looking at the mirror every time I stand face to face with him. He could pass as my doppelgänger. No joke. 

“How are you, Saint?” He looked at the horizon of gleaming lights far away from us. 

I propped my arms on the railings before answering, “Wrecked.” There’s no point in lying. Dad could smell a shit from miles away. 

“I was like that when I knew about your mother’s real identity,” He smiled a bitter one at me. “Pushed her away. Like a douchebag in a cliché novel, said your Mama Chaelin.” Then he shook his head while sighing, “But where did all those pushing led me? Back to her.” 

“That’s romantic, Dad. But forgive me if I am too hurt to comprehend.” I admitted. 

Dad put his arms around my shoulder, pulling me closer to him. “We have to be strong for your Mom,”

Surprisingly, a hot feeling around my eyes blurred my vision. It took me a while to realized that I was crying. “I can’t lose Mom, Dad. I can’t.” was what I said between sobs.

Dad held me tighter and closer while I sob that night. 

Losing Mom would be my downfall. It is the bane of my existence. I would simply shut down once it happens. 

 — 

 That was Saint’s last entry. He never continued his diary ever again after knowing the truth.

[dawnrider]

So this is a belated birthday dedication for the lovely @lemonlushff which I'll probably be posting later today. A Space Colonization AU that you mighht have spotted before during one of @clearwillow 's games.

Happy Birthday to you, Lemon!

Teaser:

Her initial reaction to him was fear.  In hindsight it shouldn't have been.  However, try pulling laundry down from the line and coming face to face with a man you've never seen before, and then realizing that there is something different enough about him to make you certain he shouldn't exist.  She guessed most people would have reacted far worse than she had.  In all fairness, his reaction to her wasn't exactly pleasant either.

“Oh, for crying out...” She tugged again on the comforter hanging on the clothesline which was refusing to come down.  It was too large for her bed and it was really too heavy for her to be hanging, but she had no other choice.  Tugging again, it finally came free, nearly suffocating her under all the fabric.  She struggled with it until it was at least folded enough to fit in the laundry basket and promptly dropped it.  Remaining stock still, not even wanting to blink, she stared at the tall man standing just across her yard.  He had long silver hair and what she swore were animal ears on the top of his head.  They twitched in her direction as if to confirm her thought.  He appeared equally startled to see her, as if he hadn't expected to find anyone this deep in the woods.

When he took a step in her direction, Kagome took several back, blindly reaching for anything to defend herself with.  She wasn't stupid, she knew the dangers of living in the wilderness on her own, she just hadn't had to utilize any of the preparations she'd made for such an occasion yet.  He seemed to know that she was afraid, not that it was hard to tell, and remained where he was.  She could tell that he was both curious about her and yet wary.  Finally latching onto the rifle leaning beside the tree at her right, she managed to lift it without her hands shaking, sighting down the barrel just as she'd been taught.  Unexpectedly, he snarled in her direction, disappearing in the blink of an eye.  Kagome felt her heart slowly calm from a racing flutter to a dull thud in her chest.  What...who on earth...Terra was that?  I've never seen anything like him!  Not wanting to risk another run in with the strange man or anyone else like him, she gathered up her laundry and bustled herself inside.

Making sure every door and window in the house was locked and pulling the shades herself, Kagome felt only slightly better.  She knew the house was resistant to being broken into by any traditional means, even fire-resistant to a certain point.  The house computer system already knew not to let anyone in that was not her, but she felt the need to remind it.  Just in case.  It replied with a soft “Understood Mistress.”  She hadn't been in the house long enough for it to have imprinted on her so she had yet to convince it to call her by her name.

Coming to this planet had been a dream come true.  Hundreds of thousands of miles of open wilderness, no people, no cities, no pollution.  Also very little technology and even less help if she needed it.  Stop it.  You don't need help.  You're a big girl.  Her pep talk didn't have the desired effect.  The strange man had seemed as disconcerted as she was to find someone out this far.  She had to remember that there were other people out there even if she hadn't seen any since the Ranger dropped her off with her things over a week ago.  Not only were there other people, there were other species.

As this was her first real foray off the planet Earth, Kagome was fairly limited in her experience with other species from within their galaxy.  Space travel of any kind had only become even mildly affordable in the last few decades and it meant that most humans had yet to venture very far from home.  Like Kagome, many of them made the journey a one-way trip to one of the few terraformed planets that had yet to be inhabited.  Land was cheap, housing even cheaper, with the travel there marking the largest total on the budget.

Despite the fact that the planet was in fact owned by several companies from Earth, they chose not to put much into defending it or the people that chose to immigrate there.  The Rangers, a combination of sheriff, magistrate and tour guide, were the only direct connection to anyone off-world.  Kagome had received a few messages from her mother and brother back on Earth and been able to send some in return, but they took days to transfer so it was somewhat like playing the worst game of telephone tag ever.  Kagome missed her family a lot, especially now that she was finally coming face-to-face with the danger she could be in out here on her own.  “This was my choice.  Freedom, space and fresh air,” she reminded herself aloud.

The rest of the day went by quietly, nothing setting off any alarms and no noises to make her nervous.  Kagome knew better than to assume that meant there wasn't anything out there at all, but it at least made her feel better that the man hadn't returned.  Dinner was a pot of stew using vegetables grown in her hydroponics unit.  They would be planted in the garden in a few days so she wanted to harvest as much as she could before putting them outside where they might die or get eaten by the local critters.

~~~~~

He didn't know why he was surprised by her reaction.  He knew better than to approach humans when they were alone.  Humans were relatively new out in the galaxy, inexperienced with meeting other races from the various inhabited worlds.  Her little house had been empty for the months since he'd arrived, so he hadn't expected to find anyone there.  Helen hadn't said a word about the owner coming, but maybe she hadn't known either.  Inuyasha shook his head as he lurked in the woods just beyond the edge of what seemed to be her property.  His most interesting and nonjudgmental conversation partner was a house computer.  Right now she was his only conversation partner.  But now this woman...  She was locked up tight in her house with all the blinds shut.  He couldn't really blame her, at least not now that he'd calmed down.  He couldn't be absolutely sure just off the initial scent, but he was guessing she was out here alone.  A lone human woman in the wilderness of a newly terraformed planet had every right to be jumpy.  She'd probably never seen an alien life form before.  Inuyasha snorted to himself.  Certainly nothing like me.  I've seen dozens of species and no one looks like me. She was probably terrified.  Of course, he hadn't smelled terror either.  Surprise, certainly.  Curiosity, confusion and determination.  She was going to protect herself.  He couldn't begrudge her that either, especially if she really was on her own.

To say he was intrigued was an understatement.  A woman who was brave enough to come from who knew where to a fairly new and wild planet all alone gained a few points in his book.  That she could and was willing to defend herself on top of that was another plus.  Too many times he had seen women, even ones that came with mates, that ventured out into the edges of the galaxy and perished because they didn't take the precautions they should have.  Inuyasha sighed, still watching the house.  It pained him to see the terrible things that happened to good people because some scumbag wanted an easier way to make some money or was so twisted they delighted in other people’s suffering.  That won't happen to her.  I won't let anyone get this one.  He flinched at the direction of his own thoughts, surprised by the easy dedication to her protection.

“Don't get roped in, stupid,” he muttered to himself.  He didn't want to see anything happen to her, sure, but he wasn't about to tie himself down to guard duty on a woman who would sooner draw a pulse rifle on him than speak to him.  With a rough growl, he headed back out into the wilds in search of dinner.  There were some animals he still wasn't sure were edible, but he knew the wild poultry he could hear rustling in the bushes a few meters away were good eating and easy prey.  Dispatching both of them fairly quickly, he cleaned them up before leaving one as a sort of peace offering on the woman's doorstep and taking the other home.  So much for not getting roped in...

@lemonlushff , @fantastiqueparfait , @heavenin--hell, @clearwillow , @mamabearcat , @thunderpo , @keichanz , @meggz0rz , @disgruntledbeast , @sarah-writes-stories , @zelink-inukag , @rikareena​ , @cammysansstuff​ , @mcornilliac , @redflamesofpassion , @superpixie42 , @underwater0phelia​, @cstorm86​ , @noviceotakus-blog​ , @lavendertwilight89​ , @hinezumi​ , @wenchster​, @hnnwnchstr​ , @lady-dark-69 , @itzatakahashi​ , @juliatheanimelover7​ , @kazeinori​, @theinuyashareader​, @inupotter​, @eternalnight8806-3​ , @smmahamazing​ , @willowandfog​, @gaysonthefloor​, @sistasecbhere​, @jennybean91​ 

[tokiro07]

I was thinking about Medaka yesterday as I am wont to do, and I realized something 

Her Skill, The End, is way more broken than I ever gave it credit for

Consider the fact that she copies Aka’s Five Focus Skill by HEARING about it. This process is described as playing Telephone with other people’s powers, which implies that Medaka can actually customize the exact parameters of powers she gets. This is already somewhat true anyway, as The End’s specific ability is to perfect abilities and techniques, but now she doesn’t even have to have to start with an accurate base and could potentially create new abilities by thinking of them

So what if she were to cross over into other contexts?

In the Dragon Ball world? Medaka could definitely master any given ki technique: Kamehameha, Dodonpa, Destructo Disk, Hellzone Grenade, Special Beam Cannon, FInal Flash, Spirit Bomb. Everyone has ki, it’s just a matter of knowing how to use, Medaka can definitely do it easily. Abilities that are specific to certain races? You’d think she can’t do those cus she doesn’t have the physiology for it, but given that she has witnessed many Skills from Ajimu that allowed her to alter her physiology to match various animals, it’s not hard to imagine Medaka being able to alter her physiology to match aliens, even if she has to create a new Skill for it on the spot. In doing so, she’d have access to Namekian regeneration and asexual reproduction, Majin pliability and absorption, and most importantly, Saiyan transformation. Given that she has perfected versions of both Maguro’s Analysis and Naze’s Remodeling, she could very easily determine the exact biological mechanism of the Super Saiyan form (gathering S-Cells to a specific point at the base of the neck) and then remodel her own cells to have the characteristics of S-Cells. This would probably be especially simple for her because she already basically has her own human equivalent of Super Saiyan in her War, Altered and End God Modes, so she’d probably combine the concepts to create Super God Mode. Even if she can’t do that, it probably wouldn’t matter, because she’d have absolutely no problem learning Ultra Instinct (which is very similar to the perfected form of Auto Pilot that she got from Takachiho) and attaining divine ki to enter a new form that she’d probably call True God Mode (being that she’d be using the literal powers of a god)

How about One Piece? She could definitely learn Haki, and would most certainly have Conqueror’s Haki (”she’s not used to standing in front of others, she’s used to standing above others”, Hitoyoshi, chapter 1), but the much more pressing question is whether or not she could copy Devil Fruit. The short answer is no, but the long answer is that she doesn’t have to. As I said before, all she needs to know is that a power exists in order to copy it, she doesn’t need to have a complete understanding of it. Since Ajimu has an inexhaustible number of abilities, chances are good that any ability that can be used by a Devil Fruit (being made of rubber, turning into a specific animal, etc.) is something that Ajimu is also capable of if she didn’t demonstrate it directly to Medaka, so while Medaka wouldn’t become a Devil Fruit user by interacting with one, she would definitely be able to replicate the abilities of their Devil Fruit without losing her ability to swim

Naruto? Any given jutsu, for sure, and as we established earlier, Kekkei Genkai should be no problem. Not that she’d need to bother with something like the Sharingan, since for all intents and purposes, The End is a perfected Sharingan: not only can she visually break down any technique or ability she sees through Observation and then perfectly replicate it, she also improves it and doesn’t even necessarily need to personally witness it in the first place. The only advantage she’d get from the Sharingan would be unlocking the Mangekyou Sharingan without needing to witness the death of someone close to her, but even then, she’s literally watched Hitoyoshi die twice, so she’s got that covered too

Bleach? She’d need to awaken spiritual sense first, but given that normal people did so just by being around Ichigo for an extended period of time, that’s not too much of a stretch. After that, any given kido or reiryoku technique would be easy enough, but anything beyond that is a bit trickier. I think she could copy the abilities of a Zanpakuto, but she wouldn’t necessarily manifest one just because she’s copied one. That said, if Medaka were to get an Asauchi (a blank Zanpakuto base), she would most likely be able to use the Shikai and Bankai of any Shinigami she faces (even if they don’t have their Bankai yet, I’d imagine), and would possibly be able to use the abilities of Arrancar as well. I’m willing to bet that her Zanpakuto would actually be Asauchi itself, as they are ostensibly considered the “ultimate Zanpakuto” due to their infinite possibilities. Though obviously her mother was never attacked by a Hollow, it’s not hard to imagine Medaka being able to use Fullbring just from being exposed to Hollow reiryoku, which would definitely linger on any Shinigami even in miniscule amounts. I imagine that she’d choose either the flowers from completed suggestions or the Medaka Box itself as her Fullbring, given how much weight they hold for her. Getting a Hollow mask and become a Visored would probably be a simple task too just from understanding how to manipulate reiryoku and knowing what a Hollow is, which in turn would likely allow her to use the specific powers of any Hollow she meets or learns of. Quincy techniques are generally related to specialized equipment, but with enough control of her own reiryoku, she could probably recreate any generic Quincy technique and even Yhwach’s Letters

Shaman King? Same deal as Bleach, she needs to unlock spiritual sense first, but once she has, she would definitely be able to master both Hyoi Gattai and Over Soul in no time, as well as being able to act as a medium like Anna. Now, when using Over Soul, the resulting abilities are based on a number of factors, such as the identity of the spirit in question, the medium channeling said spirit, the imagination of the shaman, and the quality of the spirit. While Medaka could probably make something like O.S. Spirit of Sword with just any spirit and any medium, the Over Soul itself would lose potency by nature of the incompatibility of the shape, the spirit and the medium. Of course, that’s assuming that she’s using any old spirit. We already know that Medaka’s mother Hato, who is of similar monstrous skill to Medaka, was able to manifest herself to Medaka in her inner world, so if Medaka were able to commune with the dead, I think it’s fair to say that she would, without question, enlist Hato as her guardian spirit. With that, all issues of compatibility go out the window; the combination of the two of them with their superhuman abilities would, without doubt, allow Medaka to recreate any Over Soul she wants without difficulty, likely all channeled through something like her signature fan

The only power system I can think of that may pose any semblance of difficulty to Medaka would be Hunter X Hunter’s Nen, but even then, her nature more than makes up for any deficit. Right off the bat, Medaka would be a Specialist capable of at least 100% proficiency in all six Hatsu categories. As demonstrated by Ging copying and extrapolating Leorio’s Emission Hatsu, Medaka could very easily deconstruct and recreate the mechanisms of other Nen user’s Hatsu, but she could not use The End to perfect a Hatsu. Since Hatsu are empowered by their weaknesses and limitations, the act of removing those weaknesses would make a Hatsu less effective. She could potentially add her own limitations to increase their output, which she would probably do anyway, but striking the balance between limitation and impracticality might still prove somewhat difficult for Medaka, especially since most Hatsu are highly personalized. That said, this is only a problem if Medaka constrains herself to using Nen in those contexts; if Medaka wanted to reinterpret a Hatsu as a Skill, there’s very little to stop her from doing so. Kurapika Chain Jail? Chain conjuration Skill + enemy is powerless when bound in chains Skill. No limitations needed. Beyond that, simpler Hatsu would be easy; Reinforcement Hatsu very rarely use limitations because of the nature of how basic Nen manipulation works, Transformation Hatsu just change the characteristics of one’s aura, and Emission just removes Nen from the body, all very simple techniques to recreate. Manipulation and Conjuring would be more difficult, but again can be circumvented through Skill Creation

Even Undead Unluck, where abilities are granted by one’s metaphysical connection to an eldritch manifestation of natural laws, Medaka could again easily just create a Skill to approximate the ability. It’s not like immortality and luck manipulation haven’t been explicitly shown in the context of Medaka Box.

Basically, while it seems like one could say “Medaka is only OP in the context of Medaka Box,” the fact that The End is effectively meant to be “plot armor as a super power” makes it vague enough to be applicable in any given context, circumventing the limitations of other universes. It can easily be extrapolated to be used on the physical, genetic, mental, spiritual, and even magical level, and even if it can’t, all that revelation would do is reveal to Medaka that The End is imperfect and thus needs to be further fine-tuned to perfect itself. The only real limitation on The End is Medaka’s own ability to understand how both it and the target actually work (since she wasn’t able to copy Styles until she learned how to actually use one of her own and has never been shown directly creating a Skill despite the fact that she should be able to with The End or Hanten’s Skill Creation ability)

I guess what I’m really trying to say here is that any “what-if” match up against Medaka is inherently doomed to end either in her favor or a tie at best if the opponent is similarly OP because her character was literally designed to be capable of overcoming anything in a similar vein to heroes like Superman or Goku, and there’s a certain schoolyard joy in knowing that the protagonist of my favorite series can stand shoulder to shoulder with the likes of them

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Psycho Analysis: Halloween Special Villains

(WARNING! This analysis contains SPOILERS!)

Ah, Halloween, that magical, spooky time of year where ghosts and goblins come out to play and children dress up in the hopes of getting some delicious Halloween candy. But what about all of us who are trapped at home on the night of this pagan costume and candy festival? What do we have to keep us entertained?

Why, Halloween specials of course!

If there’s one thing Halloween delivers on almost as well as Christmas does, it’s spooky Halloween-themed episodes of cartoons, where the show is allowed to get darker and more disturbing than it usually does in some cases. And what is any special without a special one-shot villain? Gotta have someone stirring up some Halloween trouble on this spooky night. And since these characters are usually one and done with little in the way to go super in-depth about, I’d figure we’d look at five of them at once! They are:

Jack O’Lantern from The Grim Adventures of Billy & Mandy

Pumpkinator from The Fairly OddParents

Bun-Bun from Underfist

Fright Night from Danny Phantom

Ron Tompkins from Toy Story of Terror!

I’m sure some of you feel there are some glaring omissions. Where’s the Flying Dutchman? Where’s Stickybeard? Well, I decided that this time around I’d go with characters whose major appearances and debuts are Halloween episodes; both those guys had major roles in non-Halloween episodes as well, so I’ll be saving them for full reviews at a later date. Also of note: I am aware the story of Toy Story of Terror! does not take place on Halloween, but it is aired as a Halloween special, so I’m counting it.

Actor: So if there’s one thing these guys aren’t lacking in, it’s the actor department, and this isn’t a huge shock since when you’ve got a holiday special you want to splurge a bit, you know?

Jack has one of my favorite actors ever, the always-awesome Wayne Knight. Knight just has that sort of voice that’s perfect for smug jerk characters like Mr. Blik or Dennis Nedry, so really it’s pretty fitting for a pranking trickster like Jack, though I will say that it’s hard to match Knight’s voice to the human version of Jack when you see him in a flashback.

Ron Tompkins isn’t too far behind in the impressive VA department, being voiced by none other than Stephen Tobolowsky, who you may remember as the overbearing Ned Ryerson from GroundHog Day (and how can you forget him? You see him repeating the same scene about thirty times). He does a great job at making Tompkins cartoonishly evil and mostly enjoyable, a tall order for a character who steals toys from children to sell online.

And if you thought the list of awesome actors was done, boy were you wrong! Star Trek’s very own Michael Dorn voices the Fright Knight, and Dorn’s voice is absolutely perfect for a cool, evil, undead knight.

Bun-Bun is voiced by Dave Wittenberg who is an insanely prolific VA, playing characters such as Henry Wong from Digimon Tamers (AKA the beast season of Digimon) to none other than Kakashi from Naruto. I think it goes without saying a VA this versatile manages to make the role work.

And finally, we have the Pumpkinator, who is played by Dee Bradley Baker, and if I sat here listing all the notable roles this man has played we’d be here all night. But here’s a small sample: Appa, Momo, Squilliam Fancyson and Bubble Bass, Klaus the goldfish, Cow and Chicken’s dad, Cinderblock and Plasmus, the Alien and Predator in Mortal Kombat, Lion and Frybo, Numbah 4 and the Toilenator, Remy Buxaplenty, most of the animals in The Legend of Korra… you get the picture. This guy’s a legend. He’ll do any sort of role, big or small, so even if he’s not playing the most complex character here, he’s at least giving it a unique spin with his voice because man, this guy has RANGE.

Motivation/Goals: Jack has a rather simple motivation: revenge. You see, ages ago he managed to steal Grim’s scythe when he was about to be reaped, and bartered for the scythe’s return, asking to be made immortal. Grim reluctantly gave him this, but, as Grim is not someone who likes being tricked, also cut his head off. As anything cut off with Grim’s scythe is permanently cut off, Jack had to replace his head with a pumpkin (of course). This lead to him being shunned as a freak, which just made jis desire for vengeance even stronger; I mean, wouldn’t you want revenge if you could only go to the ding-dong grocery store to get pudding once a year?

If you want to get even simpler, the Pumpkinator is your guy! He exists simply to blow up planets. Tat’s it. He’s very much just an obstacle Timmy needs to overcome so that he can undo his wish for every Halloween costume to be “real and scary” before the consequences end up destroying the world.

Bun-Bun is rather simple as well: he just seems to be a jerk. But they don’t just make him a simple jerk, no, this is a Billly & Mandy spinoff so things have to be taken to their ridiculous extreme. Bun-Bun turns out to be behind numerous extremely petty actions that affected the lives of the main heroes, having haunted Hoss as a child and made him afraid of monsters, made Billy afraid of spiders which estranged him from his son Jeff, and, uh, sawed off Fred Fredburger’s tusks. The fiend! As you might guess, there’s no real rhyme or reason to this, it’s just goofy absurdist over-the-top sort of thing you’d expect from Maxwell Atoms.

Ron has a relatively simple motivation, but frankly it might be the most evil out of all of these: the man steals toys from the children who stay at his motel to sell them for monetary gain. Yes, this is more evil than attempting to blow up the planet, you heard me. I have no idea how sick and twisted you have to be to think that stealing toys from children is acceptable. Funnily enough, this is the same sort of motivation Al (who was played by Wayne Knight, funnily enough) from Toy Story 2 had, though Ron takes it above and beyond.

And finally that brings us to Fright Knight, Much like most of the ghosts on the show, Fright Knight seems to just want to cause a ruckus after he’s released, attempting to take over Amity Park when Danny foolishly releases him. Later in the show he is freed to serve Pariah Dark, and after Dark is beaten he joins up with Vlad. In his final appearance of any consequence he is seen serving the Ultimate Enemy in the bad future. Basically the guy is just a really cool overhyped henchman.

Personality: So let’s get the easy one out of the way first: The Pumpkinator doesn’t exactly have a personality, because it is a big generic doomsday villain meant to act as an obstacle for Timmy to overcome. However, when it returned later in the episode where Timmy goes to Unwish Island, it did have one notable personality trait: an undying hatred for Timmy Turner, It’s a pretty relatable trait the more into the series you watch.

Bun-Bun is also rather evil and simple. He’s just a petty jerk, as can be seen by his crimes listed up under motivation. There’s not much else to him, same with Fright Knight who, again, is mostly just an overhyped henchman who acts as the hardcore badass serving whatever big bad of the week is out to get Danny (or he would have, but more on that later).

Out of all of these, Ron and Jack have the most personality. Jack is an unrepentant prankster who, at least when alive, was heavily implied to just not get he was taking it too far with his pranks (“too far” in this case being tricking people off of cliffs, at the least), and simply morphed into a bitter, jaded, vengeance-seeking supernatural entity after hundreds of years of rejection by society and isolation. Jack’s honestly pretty tragic in that regard, though it obviously doesn’t excuse his actions.

Ron is just a straight-up jerk, putting up a facade of being a charming, friendly motel owner while stealing toys from under his guest’s noses. As the truth comes out about him, he becomes more cartoonish and hammy, which really doesn’t help his case at all, and in his final scene he actually does something so cartoonish he almost feels like he doesn’t belong in the Toy Story universe.

Final Fate: Funnily enough, Pumpkinator actually gets the happiest ending out of anyone here: after being unwished by Timmy, he goes to Unwish Island and, after Timmy eventually journeys there, gets to have fun tormenting Timmy clones for the rest of time.

Ron probably has the second happiest ending, for a given definition of “happy.” Bonnie’s mother calls the cops on him for his theft, and when they show up, he somehow manages to trick them, run away, steal their car, crash it into a telephone pole when backing up, and then run off before they even move a muscle. It’s ridiculously cartoonish, and there’s no way this guy is gonna be getting off easy after that little display.

Onto Bun-Bun. Bun-Bun made one simple mistake: he put any trust at all int Skarr. For those not in the know, Skarr was the “Starscream” to Hector Con Carne, always hoping to overthrow him and take over his world domination schemes for himself before he ended up retiring from that life and becoming a reoccurring character on Billy & Mandy. So, when he joins up with the villain by betraying Underfist, what do you think he does? He betrays the villain, pushing Bun-Bun into hot cocoa and melting him, using his power of treachery and backstabbing to help his team save the world. It’s pretty amusing in that classic Billy & Mandy way.

Good ol’ Jack ends up getting sent to the underworld this time since Grim wasn’t putting up with his crap anymore, and it seems Jack still hasn’t learned his lesson about pranking. When last we see him, he’s now tormenting demons, who all start moving in on him while he laughs at his dumb pranks. The screen cuts to black and we hear a squishing noise. It’s safe to say he won’t have to worry about that pumpkin head causing him problems anymore.

Fright Night is easily the most tricky one to talk about because his entire intended purpose in the show got aborted. After he was brought back to serve Pariah, he ended up under Vlad’s control by episode’s end, but for some reason, nothing ever came of this and it was never mentioned again – well, except in the “Ultimate Enemy” special, in which the Fright Knight cameos at the beginning, acting as something of the hype man for Dan Phantom, softening up Amity Park for Dan’s attack. After that, though, he’s basically out of the series, save for a couple of brief cameos here and there.

Best Scene: Jack has the flashback to his origins, because not only is it perfectly dark for a show’s Halloween episode, you have to give props to anyone who managed to outwit Grim, even if he did end up paying a steep price for it.

Ron has his aforementioned escape from the police. I do think it’s a bit too cartoonish and silly for Toy Story, but I’ll be damned if it isn’t pretty hilarious either way.

The Fright Knight has the aforementioned scene where he mentions he’s serving The evil future Danny. Considering that’s his last real role in the series, at least he got to go out on a high note, though it still sucks nothing ever came of the plotlines set up for him.

Bun-Bun’s best scene is when he revealed that he was the architect of most of the protagonist’s woes. Again, it’s just classic over-the-top Billy & Mandy silliness, and there’s nothing wrong with that.

The Pumpkinator… just doesn’t have one. Sorry.

Best Quote: While most of these guys aren’t exactly a goldmine of quotes, Jack has one of my favorite quotes from anything, ever, and I even already referenced it above: “Three hundred and sixty-four days a year, I can't even go the the ding-dong grocery store to buy pudding! And do you know why?" The why, obviously, is the fact he has a pumpkin for a head.

Final Thoughts & Score: Frankly, this batch of Halloween hooligans is a very mixed bag. We didn’t fare quite as bad as Charlie Brown did on Halloween, but we only got one King Size candy bar out of this lot.

I guess let’s just start with the black licorice of the bunch: Fright Knight. God, I wish I could love Fright Knight, I really do, but considering the overwhelming quality of most of Danny’s rogues gallery and just the fact this guy was totally shafted and everything set up for him was ignored there’s just no excusing how lame this guy looks, Michael Dorn or no. He has a great design and a cool concept, and the ideas for interesting stories with him were there, but he ends up being a 3/10, saved only by his cool first outing, great voice work, and awesome design.

Worse still is the pile of weirdly flavored candy corn that is the Pumpkinator. He has a cool design, but he’s not much of an antagonist to be honest. He’s just a cool-looking robot who wants to blow up the planet. That’s about it. There’s really not much to say about this guy, and his only other appearance doesn’t really add much. I suppose he serves his purpose, but I have to wonder, why even bring him back if he wasn’t going to do anything remotely interesting? I don’t like generic doomsday villains at the best of times, but if you’re gonna bring one back, at least try and do something interesting with them to justify their existence, otherwise they’re just gonna end up getting a 2/10.

Finally, we get into the good candy! Let’s start off with the tasty marshmallow bunny we got, Bun-Bun (isn’t that more of an Easter candy? Weird). Bun—Bun is a funy, goofy, cartoonish villain, perfect for the first (and sadly, only) outing for Underfist. The fact they went above and beyond to cement him as this ludicrous mastermind who just screwed with everyone’s lives for no apparent reason other than the fact he’s a jerk is pretty funny. I don’t think he’s gonna win any Villain of the Year awards, but I think a 6/10 is good enough for this above average nuisance.

Oho, what’s this? A… candycane? Well, it’s a bit out of season, but it’s still tasty! And that’s kind of where Ron is. I do like just how unabashedly scummy he is, and there is precedent for people like him in the Toy Story universe, but I feel he takes things to a cartoonish extreme. For crying out loud, the guy has a trained iguana that acts like a dog! He feels like he belongs in a different series than this one, but again, I don’t really think that’s a bad thing, because at the very least he is funny. He gets a 7/10, a bit higher than usual just because I love how ridiculously nasty his whole scheme is. Stealing from kids, what the actual hell.

YES! A King Size candy bar! Just what I was looking for! It’s just a generic Hershey bar, but hey, that’s a lot of chocolate, so who’s complaining? And that’s Jack, he is simply put a perfect Halloween special antagonist. Most of this comes from his voice work, since Wayne Knight is a national treasure, but his backstory and concept are worth praising too. His origin story is something of a twist on the old legend of “Stingy Jack,” the origin story of the Jack-O’-Lantern appropriately enough. While obviously there are liberties, such as substituting Grim for the devil, it’s a mostly accurate retelling, something that would go over most people’s heads unless they’re really into classical folklore. Jack’s a lot of fun as a character, earning himself a nice big 8/10, only being held back from a higher score because despite being rightfully beloved by audiences, he never really had a major role again, getting a minor shout out in Big Boogey Adventure and… that’s it. I think Jack could have been a really entertaining reoccurring antagonist in the same vein as fwllow ensemble darkhorse Eris, but alas, it was not to be. Maybe if Underfist had been picked up he could have been brought back for that, but the fact is it just didn’t happen. Oh well, might as well appreciate what we got.

And that’s it for this batch of Halloween goodies. Halloween specials seem a lot less prevalent than Christmas specials, but they’re no less important or fun, and as you can see, they do produce at least mildly interesting villains, sometimes. If only they could produce a villain so devilishly Halloweenie that he could perfectly embody the spirit of the holiday…

Hey, what’s that at the bottom of the bag…

Wait… is that…

OH NO.

[wigwurq]

WIG REVIEW: STRANGER THINGS 3

Stranger Things season 3 is here!!!!! Bust out your 80s nostalgia and demogorgon attitude because I fully don’t remember where we left off but Netflix kind of reminded me in a very extended recap that was definitely too long? Whatever, let’s just discuss the wigs! (AND MUCH MORE).

As with last season (and any season of TV I review) I will be adding each episode to this post and then changing my wig verdict as the season progresses. 

CHAPTER ONE: SUZIE DO YOU COPY?

We begin with two tweens making out and YUCK I really don’t want to live through this! I share this opinion with Sheriff Hopper who has to live through these make out sessions that are scored by 80s soft rock music. Even more insulting: THESE HAIRCUTS. I don’t know at what point these kids are gonna outgrow their bowlcuts but the answer seems to be a resounding: NEVER. Also Elle’s hair has finally grown out! TO THIS?!?!?! What overprocessed curly nightmare is this?! I feel like they were going for a Jennifer Grey situation but if that’s the case, I’ll be needing like 110% more hairspray and like 200% more dancing ability, please.

Anyway, the real news in town is: THERE’S A MALL NOW! It’s called Starcourt which is the most 80s sounding name ever and it is home to SCOOPS AHOY ice cream shoppe where Steve and Uma Thurman/Ethan Hawke’s daughter works. This whole storyline is incredibly Fast Times at Ridgemont High themed but Steve’s hair is still very wonderful. Also he can get all the tweens into the movie theater which is showing Day of the Dead and I get it Stranger Things: YOU ARE MAKING ALL THE 80S MALL REFERENCES. 

Also: Dustin is back from camp! It was a science camp called Camp KNOW where and I am definitely gonna see some assholes in this shirt this summer. Anyway, this storyline was all about Dustin forcing his friends into helping him with a radio tower to talk to his possibly fake girlfriend named Suzie and truly: meh.

Meanwhile: WINONA’S SEASON 3 WIG! I’ve gotta say, this season is the best season of wig for Winona. Sure, it is still very much a mess (as is she after the untimely death of her boyfriend Rudy Reuttiger!) but it’s the best wig she’s had so far so MAZEL!

Elsewhere, the most boring teen couple in America (aka Nancy and Will’s brother whose name I won’t learn) are working at the local newspaper and Nancy’s whole job seems to be fetching hamburgers for an entire room of #MeToo examples. Her hair is business chick 80s which is to say: on brand but I could use about 90% more Working Girl, please. 

And now let’s get to the only storyline I truly cared about: Nancy’s mom Karen Wheeler (aka Carla Buono). Every season, her wig brings the drama and glamour I crave in an 80s-based TV show. The arc of her wig story is truly the story of America - from 70s disco queen to bored early 80s housewife to the wig we see today - 80s mall glamour queen. AND I AM HERE FOR IT. She and the other ladies of the Hawkins Town Pool are unfortunately here for the worst character on this show: BILLY.

UGH BILLY. I will give this show major props for having his entrance to the same music playing when Phoebe Cates gets out of the pool in Fast Times (second Fast Times reference in this episode tho) but it’s a gender reversal I can definitely get behind. HOWEVER BILLY IS THE WORST. Within 2 seconds of his entrance, he fat shames a tweenager and also HAS THE WORST WIG.

Nothing has changed much from last season on this wig front. It is still very much a curly dried out MESS which is very much trying to reference Rob Lowe in St. Elmo’s Fire yet this bish has yet to wail on a saxophone or talk about granny panties so truly: no redeeming qualities here. 

This does not dissuade Carla Buono from falling under the spell of Billy’s terrible wig. To be fair, her husband is a constantly napping Reagan supporter of indeterminate middle age. Anyway, the episode ends with her getting 80s GLAMOUROUS for a latenight rendezvous with Billy at a fleabag hotel. Billy, however, is run off the road by falling/exploding rats (?) and then dragged into a dirty warehouse full of said exploding rats which truly is the fate I wanted for him and his bad rattail so: COSIGN.

CHAPTER TWO: MALL RATS

We begin with Billy in the rat-infested warehouse being very much alive, so already: I’M ANGRY WITH THIS EPISODE. However, Billy and his awful wig have definitely been through the ringer and he’s about to high-tail it out of there when he comes face to face with: HIMSELF?!?! I don’t know what sort of US crossover this is supposed to be...can we get Jordan Peele on the horn about this? Anyway, he drives out of there in his now somehow completely fine car that didn’t work about 5 minutes ago and then stops at the most bizarrely situated telephone booth literally in the middle of nowhere. I thought this might be a Bill & Ted crossover but nope: he just tries to call 911 before all the electricity bails on that plan.

In other telephone news, Mike has been shook to his core by Sheriff Hopper and tells Elle that he can’t see her and makes up some lies about his grandma. Queen on the scene/his mom Karen and her GLAMOROUS PERFECTION WIG are somehow listening in (KAREN!!!!) and she’s concerned about grandma now too. Everyone back at the pool is concerned about Billy/”Billy” (not sure if he’s the real thing or a mole person version or a possessed alien version - probably the latter) and he is straight up RUDE to Karen so definitely: EFF YOU BILLY ALWAYS. There are also a bunch of shots of the back of his nightmare wig that gave me the shivers. Oh, and he fully kidnaps the other lifeguard as a human sacrifice to a demogorgon blob so definitely: EFF YOU BILLY x100000.

This episode also introduced MAYOR CARY ELWES! This is very good casting and this whole storyline seems like an homage to Jaws so: OK! Also Sheriff Hopper asked Winona’s season 3 wig (which is still good!) on a date/nondate which she definitely didn’t attend because she had far more important lessons to learn about magnets and that’s probably the best reason to stand up a dude ever.

Elsewhere, boring couple is investigating some weird rat/fertilizer situation at an old lady’s house and basically I didn’t pay attention to this part because it was boring and it involved exploding rats so: hard pass. Nancy’s hair looked fine. Jonathan’s hair is a mess. The end.

The rest of the episode was devoted to the only kind of rats I like: MALL RATS! Over at Scoops Ahoy, my favorite bromance between Steve and Dustin was rekindled and truly it is a beautiful thing. 

However, Maya Hawke and her language skills (which are romance based, not Russian but whatever!) come into play to translate the Soviet message Dustin intercepted. They somehow translate it (SURE?) and also Maya’s hair is about as 80s as John Travolta’s 70s costumes were in 50s-set Grease. This hair is pure 2019 and you do you Stranger Things. THE DEMOGORGON’S IN THE DETAILS ALWAYS. 

Meanwhile, Mike is BUMMED about having to lie to Elle so he brings Lucas and Will along with him to the mall to...buy something for Elle to erase the lie he told her? The whole time Will kept asking when they could leave and play D&D and the whole time I wanted these boys to not have bowl cuts anymore.

In the most important storyline, Elle teamed up with Max to have a LADIES DAY AT THE MALL AND I WAS HERE FOR IT! Max does not seem like the kind of chick who is into fashion or commercialism but her overriding guidance of finding yourself through consumerism and forsaking any sad feelings about boys is just good TV. Retail therapy is great!

And I’m sorry but there is absolutely no better cinema than an 80s makeover montage to effing MATERIAL GIRL. YES PLEASE.

Elle also used her powers to prank some asshole chicks at the Orange Julius and this whole part of the show felt very Girls Just Want To Have Fun (the movie but I guess also the song) so VERY YES PLEASE.

THEY EVEN TOOK EFFING GLAMOUR SHOTS. CAN YOU EVEN?! THIS IS EVERYTHING! I don’t know who funded this amazing afternoon at the mall since Max’s parents seem like pretty absentee wrong-side-of-the-tracks types and clearly this whole mall fiasco goes against everything Sheriff Hopper stands for but whatever logic: YAY MALL!

In the end, Elle calls out Mike on his lie and DUMPS HIS ASS! GIRL POWER! MALL POWER! ICE CREAM POWER 4EVER!

CHAPTER THREE: THE CASE OF THE MISSING LIFEGUARD

My favorite bromance, Dustin and Steve, are on the hunt for Russians in the mall! This whole plot is ridiculous and wonderful. They think they’re really onto something here (and maybe they are?) and just need to find some guy with blonde hair and a duffle bag (like all Russians!) When they find someone who fits that description, he turns out to be a FABULOUS aerobics instructor and I like what everyone has done here with the gay or European? trope.

Meanwhile, Hopper comes home from being stood up with bottle of Chianti and general sense of hopelessness when everything takes a turn for the GREAT because Elle isn’t making out with Mike - she’s found a great galpal and they’re having a sleepover. Halleluj all over the place! Elle deserves a great galpal and Max is pretty awesome and can ALMOST land an ollie so I say amen. Winona’s season 3 wig (still great!) shows up and explains about magnets and then they go back to the lab and find an actual Russian (not an aerobics instructor!) but then he hightails it out of there with no other explanation other than the fact that he might be the Terminator and/or just a motorcycle enthusiast.

Anyway, Elle and Max have the best sleepover EVER by using Elle’s sensory deprivation skills to spy on the boys and truly this is the What Men Want crossover no one wanted but sure! (PS the answer is Doritos belches and farts UGH BOYS). 

Beyond that, what Will wants is to just play D&D IN THIS GODDAMNED ELEGANT CAPE, OK?! Mike and Lucas go along with it for a bit, but they are just too girl crazy to concentrate on being a nerd for long. Mike yells at Will, “it’s not my fault you don’t like girls” which is interesting phraseology since the internet really wants Will to be gay and only time will tell but honey: the cape eleganza story you’re serving is pretty fabulous, just sayin! (THE DEMOGORGON’S IN THE DETAILS ALWAYS). 

Anyway, after some fun sensory deprivation visions of the guys doing stupid stuff, Elle and Max decide to invent a whole spin-the-bottle inspired game to see what other dudes in Hawkins are up to and dammit if the bottle didn’t land on my wig nemesis BILLY. Elle sees that he’s up to some pretty effed up nonsense involving kidnapping that other lifeguard so they decide to investigate IN THE RAIN.

The rest of the episode is mainly devoted to fabulous 80s raincoat fashion and I WAS HERE FOR IT. Beyond these great raincoat lewks, most of the rest of the cast also rocked some fab 80s raincoats (excepting Will who got soaked destroying his childhood fort and Steve who OF COURSE was wearing a members only jacket but jokes on him bc that rain totally dented his ‘do). 

Anyway, Elle and Max go over to the missing lifeguard’s house and OF COURSE her dad is the #1 asshole that boring couple works with (oh also they did more boring investigating which resulted in an old lady eating fertilizer. Meh). But shocker: BILLY AND HIS AWFUL WIG WERE THERE TOO.

LOOK AT THE SIDE OF THIS DAMN WIG. Truly, this wig IS the demogorgon of this season.

Anyway, double shocker: THE LIFEGUARD ALSO WAS THERE! Or I guess a possessed version of her since this plotline is getting less US and more Invasion of the Body Snatchers (no need to return my call anymore, Jordan Peele). Also possession or not, this chick’s side pony and wispy bangs are the true terrors (second only to Billy’s wig). 

Also can we talk about Billy’s mustache for a second? IT IS SO DISGUSTING. That’s all I have to say. I don’t want to look at it any further.  Also look at how dried out this wig is and this whole episode involves torrential rain. I DEMAND MORE WIG HUMIDITY DAMMIT.

Anyway, Max and Elle (smartly) hightail it out of there right before Billy and the lifeguard attack her parents for further demogorgon possessions and we get one last terrifying view of Billy’s wig. HORRIFYING.

CHAPTER FOUR: THE SAUNA TEST

So I’m really liking the whole Elle and Max vibe going along here. I also like that they weren’t dissuaded by the whole Billy being a possessed demogorgon thing to spoil their sleepover. IT CONTINUES! And not only that, Max is literally introducing  WONDER WOMAN TO ELLE. I could watch an entire episode of this also because both of their hair isn’t too offensive and they’ve both discovered scrunchies. Mazel! But of course, the guys call in a code red and they have to hightail it over there to fix everything. Ain’t it always the way, ladies?

I would like to take a moment to talk about bowl cuts. So far, I have just lumped both Will and Mike’s bowl cuts into “awful” territory as all bowl cuts are awful. However, this episode gets a lot of shots of the back of Will’s head (because the back of his neck is always sensing those goddamned demogorgons). Anyway, it became very clear in this episode just how terrible this wig is as opposed to Mike’s terrible bowl cut actual hair. I consulted the internet, and apparently the kid who plays Will CUT HIS HAIR (which he was contractually obligated NOT to do) days before shooting began and the wigmaster had to scramble and make a wig literally out of the childhood cut hair of one of her assistants. READ IT ALL HERE. Despite her hustle, this wig sucks in the way that all man wigs suck: the back taper is just all off!! And with all those closeups of Will’s neck it is VERY DISTRACTING!! Billy officially is not the only one with a terrible man wig this season. But his is still the worst!

It did hide a bit under this sweet NIAGARA FALLS hat this episode. And his oily bohunk body was hidden under this sweatshirt which was a dead giveaway to all the kids that SOMETHING WAS AMISS HERE since Billy can barely keep a shirt on at school let alone the pool. Since Will knows that demogorgons (specifically the mind flayer?) like it CHILL, everyone was all: THIS DUDE IS STRAIGHT UP POSSESSED. Great work, kids! Also honestly, this whole lewk was giving me Weekend At Bernies realness and I was here for it (since it implies that Billy is dead which I would like very much please). 

Meanwhile, Hopper’s anger management issues get PEAK BLOODY when he just beats the shit out of Cary Elwes (who is technically kind of his boss?) in demanding answers about that Terminator/motorcycle enthusiast who beat the shit out of HIM last episode. Oh, and just an FYI: Winona’s season 3 wig was along for the ride and was still looking great! I cannot say the same for Cary Elwes’s face!

Over at Scoops Ahoy, Steve and his superior wigless mane are doing some serious air duct work with the help of Lucas’s precocious sister. This whole plotline begs the question: do any of the parents of Hawkins ever know where their kids are?

Meanwhile, boring couple is on the rocks after having a really boring fight about whether it’s worse to be a woman or poor and they called it a draw I guess? Anyway, I haven’t spent much time talking about Nancy’s hair which is starting to look a little lumpy honestly and the article I read (link above) told me the bizarre fun fact that most of this hair is real and permed (duh) but that part of the undercarriage is remnants from Winona’s season 1 wig which is obviously why it looks so shitty. The more you know!

Anyway, after being fired by the #metoo boss (who is now also demogorgon possessed) for wanting to investigate why that old lady with the fertilizer eating rats is now also eating fertilizer, she turned to her mom - the one and only queen of Hawkins glamour - KAREN WHEELER. LOOK AT THIS GODDAMNED PERFECT LEWK. Mama Karen ended up giving her a very great motivational pep talk that legit made me cry (SERIOUSLY) about how she had to keep fighting and get the world out about this effed up fertilizer situation. She also delivered a sick burn about her constantly napping husband. I LOVE YOU KAREN.

Back at the town pool, all the kids concocted a Home Alone-style booby trap to get Billy into the sauna, crank up the heat, and prove that there is a heat-hating demogorgon inside him. It kind of worked except they also almost died during the battle royale between Billy’s inner demon (literal this time) and Elle. 

Also I know that I demanded wig humidity last time but this is NOT WHAT I MEANT OMG THIS WIG IS A GHOSTMARE. Anyway, Elle saved the day (duh) for now by throwing Billy through a brick wall like he was the Kool-Aid man but seems like he’s forming a demogorgon army of possessed mole people so seems like it’s gonna be one crazy summer, you guys!

CHAPTER FIVE: THE FLAYER

Straight off the bat: this was a weird episode because it included neither my least favorite wigwearer, Billy, nor (SOB) my favorite wig wearer, KAREN WHEELER. So we were left with a bunch of other randos, mainly Soviets. We begin with Winona’s season 3 wig (looking a little rough around the edges in this episode, I am sad to report) and Hopper, fresh off the info he beat out of Mayor Cary Elwes, high tailing it to some farm owned by The Terminator dude. Under his bed, they find a bunker with these two dudes in it. Good morning!

Terminator dude, obvs shows up fairly immediately and lots of yelling, guns, and machismo ensue. In the end, the Terminator is briefly subdued by a fallen bookshelf and Winona’s season 3 wig, Hopper, and one of the rando Soviets escape but not without car troubles because: of course?

After Hopper’s truck explodes, they are all forced to walk through the woods while Winona’s season 3 wig hilariously tries to ask the non-English-speaking Soviet dude about magnets. It’s all pretty silly stuff but I’m here for Winona’s season 3 wig to get some comedic scenes instead of long suffering Christmas light crying scenes.

Anyway, they find a 7-11 where a lot of product placement and caffeine takes place, as well as Hooper yelling a lot for no reason which is essentially his entire character this season. Get some anger management classes, dude! Also the rando Soviet gets a slushie so between that and Billy’s icee last episode: WHAT A TIME FOR FLAVORED ICE WATER!

My absolute favorite part of the episode came next when Hooper commandeered a sweet convertible from this yuppie asshole. I’m not sure how often police commandeer vehicles in real life but I love it when they do it in movies because it’s always taking a car from some pompous idiot who clearly doesn’t deserve to drive (see: Speed, So I Married An Axe Murderer, etc). You can’t get more pompous or idiotic than this yuppie (named Todd, of course?!) with both a popped Polo shirt AND a blazer with zhuzhed sleeves AND white pants. THE NERVE OF THIS GUY FOR EVEN EXISTING! PLEASE TAKE HIS CAR! OMG HIS LICENSE PLATE IS TDFTHR! EVERYTHING IS JUSTIFIED!

Then Hopper, Winona’s season 3 wig, and the rando Soviet drive directly to Murray’s compound in Illinois. I’m bummed we have to suffer through Murray and his existence again since I’ll never forgive him for the gross pull-out couch jokes he made about #boringcouple’s sex romp at his house but here we are. He DOES speak Russian so let’s just get through this translation. Oh and obviously the Terminator dude questioned the 7-11 clerk so he’s probably on his way to Murray’s house now, hopefully to kill him so I don’t have to suffer through any more of his gross sex jokes. 

Meanwhile, the Scoops Ahoy spy crew are still locked in that elevator they took way into the bedrock of earth/logic but somehow manage to escape when some (more!) rando Soviets come to unlock some deliveries. Then they discover the whole Soviet plan to reopen the Upside Down while also not being noticed by one single Soviet (great security, dudes!) except for this one Soviet who Steve beats up (GO STEVE!) I’d also like to say that Steve’s superior wigless mane is truly wonderful in this episode. The lights from the underground labs really bring out his summer highlights and it’s truly a thing of beauty. Uma Thurman’s daughter continues to have a 2019 beach wave blunt instagram cut not welcome in this 80s narrative please but otherwise she’s fine. 

Over with #boringcouple, they got back together I guess? Remember at the end of season 1 when we were all deeply offended that Nancy was still with Steve and NOT Will’s brother (I refuse to believe he has an actual name). How things have changed! If Steve ever took back Nancy, I would be personally DEEPLY OFFENDED so I guess it’s fine she’s just still a #boringcouple but it’s still boring you guys. Even more boring: the actors are a couple in real life and have been for years! I just found this out this week and found it DEEPLY BORING.

Anyway, #boringcouple teams up with the tween gang to solve this whole fertilizer eating mystery and Nancy totally mommed it up when she put her shitty perm back in a banana clip and told all the kids to buckle up so she could drive her parents’ wood-paneled station wagon and honestly this section felt very Adventures in Babysitting so I’ll allow it. Also Will’s bro’s hair always looks like it was cut by a weed wacker and I’m not sure if this is a comment on his socioeconomic plight but truly Winona’s season 3 wig should get her kids better haircuts please. If her wig can improve so can theirs. In any case, at the missing lifeguard’s house, they vaguely put together some blood-related clues and then decide to visit the fertilizer eating grandma in the hospital.

Only fertilizer eating grandma ain’t there, hunties! Also please return all those flowers to their vase, please. Instead, #boringcouple apologized to each other for their boring fight in an elevator and then had to fight two possessed #metoo bros from the newspaper (which was very satisfying) while Elle and Mike basically starred in an M&Ms commercial in the waiting room. I honestly was hoping that #boringcouple would get possessed too but they ended up being ok (SIGH) and the back of Will’s bowl cut wig sensed danger so I guess Elle is just gonna have to fix everything in the next episode or 3. 

CHAPTER SIX: E PLURIBUS UNUM

We begin, UGH, with #boringcouple who are still battling with (part of?) the mind flayer in the hospital and Nancy gets very Sigourney Weaver in Alien and I thought she was about to get flayed but sadly Elle saved her ass. Back at Hooper’s bunker, the whole gang is still basically relying Elle for both protection and sensory deprivation recon. Nancy gels her hair up for some reason (I hope she used DEP!) and Will keeps getting the tingles on the back of his terrible bowl cut wig. Max and Mike have a battle royale about who cares about Elle more and whether women can make their own decisions about their own telepathic powers which Nancy rightfully weighs in on (you go gurl?) But honestly, no one was protecting Elle from the real catastrophe here: WEARING CRISS CROSS SUSPENDERS THE WHOLE GODDAMNED EPISODE. Suspenders are fine and I’m glad Elle has found fashion, but maybe the kids can elect one of them as Elle’s suspenders advocate to avoid this in the future?

Meanwhile, Terminator dude still hasn’t caught up with Murray (sadly) and everyone in his bunker is still very much alive, at least until they die of lung cancer (ZING!) Anyway, Murray does a lot of Russian translation, rando Soviet dude throws a diva fit about slurpee flavors, Hopper continues his reign of anger management/alcoholism problems, and Winona’s season 3 wig is honestly not looking great. They do somehow figure out what the Russians are doing under Starcourt (they even make diagrams and use a lot of Burger King product placement to reenact nuclear scanarios!) And Hopper calls a secure line to demand backup back in Hawkins. Okay?

Back in Hawkins, Bloody Bloody Cary Elwes seems to have recovered from Hopper’s beating pretty nicely (as long as he keeps those shades on) and is very much invested in the 4th of July county fair he is PRODUCING (he even made signs crediting himself!) The Terminator dude demands answers about Hooper but no matter: JUST ENJOY THIS FAIR RIDE!

Speaking of people getting face beatings, Steve is getting absolutely SAVAGED by the Soviets. It was honestly very heartbreaking because he has somehow become the male MVP of this show, partially to do with his hair god status (EVEN WITH A BLOODY FACE HIS HAIR LOOKS SO GREAT!) but also because he’s become a really sweet guy and I just want him to catch a damn break! (Tho please continue to be broken up with Nancy - dear god!) 

We shouldn’t be too worried about him getting back together with Nancy, though, because if it wasn’t clear from the moment Uma Thurman’s daughter was introduced: THESE TWO ARE OBVS GETTING TOGETHER. Her hair is still a very 2019 distraction but she’s def an upgrade from Nancy. However, after taking some weird Soviet truth serum (probably just LSD, right?) she admits that she harbored a crush on him way back in the 10th grade and also totally undermines her cool outsider status by admitting that all losers want to be popular (I DON’T KNOW IF ALL LOSERS STAND BY THIS GURL I HOPE THIS IS JUST THE LSD TALKING!) This whole section gives a lot of Some Kind of Wonderful realness and honestly that is a lesser John Hughes work so I’m not sure I can give any of this a passing grade. However, Dustin and my new favorite sass machine, Erica save the day with a nuclear cow prod! GREAT WORK KIDS! ALSO YOUR PARENTS DEFINITELY DON’T CARE WHERE YOU ARE! Speaking of parents, yet again the glamour of KAREN WHEELER did not grace itself in this episode and we were all worse for it.

Back at Hopper’s cabin, Elle decides to go nuclear with her sensory deprivation recon and we all have to welcome BILLY (UGH BILLY) and his terrible wig back. Anyway, he pushes her further into the recesses of his memory/all logic on an astral plane that can only be described as the place where Michelle Pfeiffer was in the Ant-Man sequel (IF YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT HOW VERY DARE YOU). So we get a lot of terrible childhood flashbacks which try to show Billy’s abusive tendencies to be learned from his horrible upbringing and truly: DO NOT MAKE ME FEEL BAD ABOUT BILLY.

JUST LOOK AT THIS IDIOT. NO THANK YOU PLEASE. Despite the humidity of his entire body, his wig remains a dried out hellscape that I would love to never see again for the rest of my days. Also he almost traps Elle in the astral plane they’re on JUST LIKE MICHELLE PFEIFFER IN THAT ANT-MAN MOVIE) but she escapes into the arms of Mike (fine sure) and then Billy explains that he and and his army of mole people have been waiting for Elle this whole time and: REALLY? That seems very specific but you do you, mole people. Oh also all those mole people (grandma fertilizer included!) all file into the rat warehouse and shapeshift into a disgusting mind flayer/demogorgon/blob nightmare. YAY!

CHAPTER SEVEN: THE BITE

Welcome to the Fun Fair (a Mayor Cary Elwes production!) Somehow he recovered from his terrible face beating to show some FACE at this thing. The whole town is there and ready for some 4th of July FUN that will definitely not be ruined by Russians or demogorgons. 

Most importantly, this episode gave us the triumphant return of KAREN WHEELER! HER HAIR LOOKS AMAZING! She is bringing full out bouffant glamour to the Fun Fair and damn if she didn’t have this lewk done at Dolly Parton’s salon in Steel Magnolias. IT IS THAT GOOD.  Clearly employing the “higher the hair the closer to god” theory - and not just hair-wise actually because this bish bribed some carnie to stop the ferris wheel at its highest point so that she and her family (at least the part of her family whose whereabouts she knows about) can enjoy some FIREWORKS. KAREN YOU MINX I LOVE YOU! HOW ARE YOU STILL MARRIED TO THIS DUDE IN GOLF PANTS?!

The top of the ferris wheel is also a perfect place to see the incoming demogorgon!! The back of Will’s bowl cut is getting the tingles too. And before Elle can fully explain her trip into Billy’s beach memories, the mind flayer is THERE, y’all, busting through the roof of Hopper’s cabin like it’s straight out of a 50s b-movie. I would like to note that for ONCE Winona’s house isn’t about to get trashed so mazel! #Boringcouple armed themselves with guns and axes but obvs they prove completely useless and the flayer is about to steal Elle away when they make a human chain and are victorious...FOR NOW.

Meanwhile, Dustin and Erica are dealing with a very drugged up Steve and Uma Thurman’s daughter and decide to lay low in a showing of (WHAT ELSE?): Back to the Future! They actually show so much of this movie that I’m assuming the entire wig budget went straight to Robert Zemeckis. 

Over in the TDFTHER convertible, Winona’s season 3 wig is looking a damn MESS as is all the side projection of them getting back to Indiana. There’s a lot of bickering between Winona’s season 3 wig and Hopper and finally my beloathed Murray has to meet his gross sex talk quota for the season and tells both of them to just have sex already and then he and the Soviet dude laugh a lot and OMG GET ME OUT OF THIS CONVERTIBLE.

#Boringcouple and the kids smash into a supermarket to get Elle some medical help for the leg that the flayer effed up. I’m not sure why a hospital wasn’t an option but it’s probably so there could be more 80s product placement like Mr. T cereal and a whole actual conversation about New Coke. Nancy’s hair is still VERY depped up. Max seems to have the most medical training from skateboard injuries and fixes Elle up pretty well while the dudes prove completely useless other than finding a treasure trove of fireworks. I guess most importantly, Elle was reunited with her ain’ true love: EGGOS. They hightail it out of there with a ton of fireworks that they definitely won’t (lol jk) use later. Oh and Elle’s blood kind of comes alive and Billy and his shitty wig come back to sniff her out. Gross. 

Speaking of gross, Steve and Uma’s daughter left the very confusing (for them) screening of Back to the Future to go stare at the Starcourt ceiling to the point of barfing (which I honestly did not need to see TWICE or at all!) The barf did get the LSD out of their systems so now it’s time for truth talk and LURVE TALK! I really have to hand it to Steve for being completely face beaten and bloody and covered in barf and still having enough swagger to admit to Uma’s daughter that he has feelings for her (despite her 2019 hair) and just when I thought this show was so predictable, Uma’s daughter comes out as a LESBIAN!! What? Okay! To his credit, Steve pivots pretty easily to ally/friend and truly: HE IS THE BEST AND WE DO NOT DESERVE HIM. ALSO PLEASE GET HELP ON YOUR FACE WOUNDS AND YOUR HAIR STILL LOOKS GREAT. 

NOR DO WE DESERVE THIS MUCH GLAMOUR TWICE IN ONE EPISODE. Karen Wheeler may look great but damn if she knows where her (or Winona’s season 3 wig’s) kids are. But let’s just enjoy this space ship ride! Also a rando carnie calls Hopper “Magnum” and: sick burn. Also there is a woman dressed up as Uncle Sam at the fun fair and between this drag king realness, Uma’s daughter, that one Jazzercise instructor, and (maybe/probably) Will, I’m so ready to throw a Hawkins Pride Parade. Karen is already wearing rainbow stripes!

Elsewhere at the fun fair, Alexei is having the time of his damn life winning a Woody Woodpecker with the support of 10000 children. Sadly, his joy is cut short when the Terminator dude kills him in cold blood. HARSH. Also Murray chooses to blame himself for not guarding him like he was supposed to and instead buying a corn dog. I AGREE, MURRAY: THIS IS YOUR FAULT PLEASE LEAVE. Then Hopper has a whole sequence with the Terminator dude (and some other rando Soviet baddies) in the funhouse which is the second time this season which felt like a weird homage to US and I guess I need to get Jordan Peele on the horn again about this. Anyway, Hopper gets ANOTHER face beating and so does Cary Elwes from Winona’s (also beat) season 3 wig. 

Back at the mall, Steve and company are trying to just slip out with the rest of the movie crowd from Back to the Future but the Soviets are totally onto them and it looks like they’re about to be killed when (AGAIN) Elle saves the day by throwing a Chrysler LeBaron on them. GREAT WORK! Unfortunately, Elle is also receiving a threatening phonecall from a mini demogorgon and the call is coming from: INSIDE HER LEG. 

CHAPTER EIGHT: THE BATTLE OF STARCOURT

So this demogorgon situation with Elle’s leg is pretty severe so Will’s brother (again name NOT NECESSARY) prepares for mall surgery based on stuff found at the Panda Express and literally gave her a wooden spoon to bite on as if this was happening during the Revolutionary War. The demogorgon leg removal is not working so as always, Elle just DID IT HERSELF because she may be the only capable person in this mall/town. 

Hopper and Winona’s season 3 wig (not looking great) and (UGH) Murray show up and everyone compares notes on how to fix this whole mindflayer situation. Most importantly, Erica outsasses Murray and wins. Steve (rightly) gets the keys to the TDFTHER convertible to take him, Uma’s daughter, Dustin and Erica (now known as Scoops Troop) to Dustin’s radio tower. The rest of the tweens plus #boringcouple (now known as The Griswold Family because sure) are getting sent to Murray’s bunker and can’t they maybe stop and get Elle some medical attention on the way? No matter: they’re not going anywhere because Billy, possessed or not, still knows way too much about cars and stole their damn ignition cable. DAMMIT BILLY. 

Steve is driving the Scoops Troop up a damn hill to the radio tower while listening to Jackie Wilson’s Higher and Higher which I’m sure is a Ghostbusters 2 reference and also Uma’s daughter looks exactly like her in the convertible driving part of Kill Bill and honestly all of these pop cultural references are getting tiring. Anyway, from the top of the radio tower, they can see the demogorgon closing in on the mall and Steve and Uma’s daughter hightail it back there. 

At the mall, Elle is having some trouble moving that LeBaron to get the ignition cable - she can’t even move a damn coke can. WHAT GIVES? This does beg the question: since she has literally done all the heavy lifting this season, could she maybe call in a favor from her telepathic sister in Chicago? Why did this show even introduce that character - just to check off “punks” on their 80s pop culture list (note: DEFINITELY) But seriously, it’s like when Marvel makes a stand-alone superhero movie after an Avengers movie. SOMEONE GET THAT PUNK CHICK ON THE HORN!!! Anyway, Will gets some back of bowl cut tingles and the damn demogorgon smashes through the roof. Elle, Mike, and Max make a run for it through the gap, where the demogorgon confuses a mannequin wearing Elle’s same clothing and truly: the gap would NEVER sell this graphic eleganza! Did Esprit just not want to be involved in this whole mess because that is where she would have bought that. The rest of the tense gap scene plays out basically exactly like the kitchen scene in Jurassic Park. Meanwhile, #boringcouple is doing boring auto work while Billy just endlessly stalls in his evilmobile but is about to hit them when MVP hair god Steve saves the day and everyone piles into the station wagon. YAY!

Elsewhere, the Terminator dude has made it to the Soviet subbasement where Hooper, Winona’s season 3 wig and (UGH) Murray are now in Soviet apparel. Winona’s season 3 wig (looking great hidden under that hat) and Hopper have a nice talk and make plans for a legit date which definitely won’t be derailed by a demogorgon (lol jk jk). Murray manages to infiltrate the room where all the wires control the nuclear weapon the Soviets are using to open up the Upside Down and why wasn’t this room better guarded? Oh well. Much like sucking at guarding Soviets and not buying corndogs, Murray sucks at remembering important numbers which are the combination for the nuclear keys. 

Of course the code is some nerdy equation that requires Dustin to ask fellow nerd (and girlfriend Suzie who exists!) for help. But not before Suzie demands that Dustin sing....The Neverending Story theme song. This is peak 80s cultural reference and we can all go home now. Also it is mainly an excuse for Galen Matarazzo to sing and sure: he and this chick sound great! Now please get those damn keys! 

Elle,  Max and Mike are confronted with (unfortunately still alive) Billy who beats the shit out of all of them and takes Elle. She’s about to get flayed when Lucas and Will throw all those damn fireworks on the demogorgon. Sure!  Elle uses Billy’s memories to reason with him. This show definitely wants us to root for Billy all of a sudden because he turns on the demogorgon but I REFUSE TO LIKE BILLY WITH THAT DRIED OUT WIG IN THIS SWEATY MALL. 

   Back in the subbasement, Winona’s season 3 wig and Hopper are ready to end this but the Terminator dude shows up. They duke it out very close to a nuclear warhead while Winona’s season 3 wig turns into MacGuyver and uses a belt to try to disarm both keys and bless her. Hopper throws the Terminator into nuclear generator thingie. Byeeeeee. Then Hopper looks back at Winona’s season 3 wig for long enough to definitely make it back into the safe glass room where she is but instead just gives a really long nod, signalling her to disarm the nuclear whatever thing and he definitely (absolutely does not) die. 

However, all my hopes and dreams for Billy’s death finally came true! YAY FOR ME AND MY HATRED OF HIS TERRIBLE WIG AND HIS CHARACTER WHICH HAD NO REDEEMING QUALITIES NO MATTER HOW MANY BEACH FLASHBACKS TRIED TO PROVE OTHERWISE. I will say that his exit is VERY METAL so in some ways, this was the only appropriate death for his Metallica and Tank loving character. FINE. Two seconds after he and the demogorgon die, the feds show up with Paul Reiser! I am honestly very mad at this show for not blasting Pat Benatar’s Little Too Late during this entire sequence. OH WELL. Outside the mall Winona’s season 3 wig and Will’s terrible bowl cut wig are reunited in a bad wig hug. Then Winona’s season 3 wig catches sight of Elle and gives her a look that says: I am definitely adopting you.

Three months later, a fake Inside Edition show gets us up to date on the burning of the mall, government coverups, and comeuppance of terrible mayor Cary Elwes. Also Uma’s daughter (now with 80s appropriate updo!) and Steve are trying to get jobs at the video store! Uma’s daughter and her love of Billy Wilder movies make her a shoe-in for the job but Steve's taste in the Ewok Star Wars movie and the 5 minutes he saw of Back To the Future whilst on LSD don’t make him the best candidate. Also he trips over a Phoebe Cates cut-out and truly Phoebe Cates: thank you for your service in being name-checked constantly this season. In the end, Steve’s awesome hair gets him the job. Maybe? 

Meanwhile, Winona’s season 3 wig is moving just like she said she was going to this whole season and no one believed her. Also she put her wig back in a ponytail and: good move it looks ok! Elle still doesn’t have her powers back but eh? She does get a heart-tugging letter from beyond the grave (he’s totally still alive) and all the kids/tweens/#boringcouple sob that they are being separated. It isn’t clear where Winona’s season 3 wig is going or how she could have sold her shitty house in the town that fake Inside Edition show called haunted. And yes, separating her now 3 PTSD kids from their only support group is also shitty but what has this goddamned town ever done for Winona and any of her seasons’ wigs other than stealing her children and killing her love interests and trashing that shitty house at least twice?! I SAY GET THE HELL OUT OF THERE (they will fully be back next season). 

After collectively sobbing all their faces off, the tweens of Hawkins are left only with the ELEGANZA OF KAREN WHEELER and whatever healthy dinner she’s preparing with the help of some white wine. YOU KIDS ARE STILL LUCKY WHO NEEDS FRIENDS WHEN YOU HAVE KAREN WHEELER! Oh and back in Russia, Hopper is like 110% definitely still alive. See y’all next season!

FINAL VERDICT: DOESN’T WURQ (YOU KNOW IT WAS BILLY’S FAULT)

[whatdoyouexpectthistime]

Out of Office Drama: Sticky-Note

That night was spent in a desperate tangle of passion, as if when dawn’s light finally hit, they would never again be able to touch one another. In reality, however, Goto had an investigation that required him to be undercover for an undetermined period of time, and would not be able to chance even sending her text messages.

Of course Miho understood, but even if the timing hadn’t been terrible, this was the first time she had to relive saying goodbye to the one she loved, sending him on his way into the unknown when the past had rewarded her with loss, death, sorrow.

As they showered together, hands against moist skin, bodies pressed not with urgency now, but just a mutual desire to be as close to each other as they could for as long as they could, Goto watched his fiancée carefully. She hid her fear as best she could, but it was in those eyes he adored and the tense of her jaw. He knew he couldn’t erase it, couldn’t mitigate it – it was what it was, and would be until he came back to her. All he could actually do is tell her how much he loved her, that and he was already imagining the night he returned.

“Don’t come in,” she said in a small voice, not daring to raise it much beyond that or else risk it breaking.

“I want to,” he replied, unfastening his seatbelt and moving around the car to the passenger side.

She was still sitting there with her hands in her lap when he opened it.

“You’re such a pain,” she hissed through her teeth, taking the hand that helped her rise, the hand that remained clutching hers as she retrieved her bag – larger than usual - and hefted it over her shoulder. “Damnit, this ruined mascara is your fault.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” he apologised, pulling him against him.

“Jazz is going to make fun of me,” she sighed, taking the first, reluctant step toward the building where the MJS offices were situated.

“I doubt that,” he chuckled, and Miho looked sideways at him. “She might have chewed my ear off about coming back safely.”

“Hmph, that ear is mine to chew,” Miho muttered, but she did feel warmed that Jazz had gone out of her way to read Goto the relationship separation riot act.

“And you’ll have every opportunity to do so when I get back,” he pointed out, trying to sound cheerful.

Then they stopped at the double doors.

“If you come in much further I won’t be able to let you go,” she asserted, about as meek as Miho got.

Oh, the proud one hated feeling that way, but told herself she had every reason to.

“Okay,” he conceded, wrapping his arms around her, one large hand against the back of her head pressing her cheek against his shoulder. “When I get back we’ll do something special,” he promised.

“You coming back will be special enough,” she replied, muffled into the fabric of his suit jacket, praying her eyes didn’t spill over – at least not until he was away.

She didn’t want him to have to see her like that, knowing he had to leave anyway.

Hearing this, Goto leaned her back a little, just enough so he could kiss her – a long, convincing kiss that conveyed more than even his next works.

“I love you,” he declared, and Miho’s head bobbed.

“I love you too. Go get some bad guys.”

Stepping back was like fighting gravity, but somehow Goto managed.

“Go,” she prompted, half turning. “We’ll both go, and not look back.”

With a determined nod, Goto complied, and Miho followed suit.

Savagely she bit her lip as she walked stiffly into the building, across the foyer, and made her way to the office where Izumi looked up from his desk and smiled at her brightly.

“Good morning Mrs. Goto!” he exclaimed, continuing the joke he’d started last week, and Miho clenched her eyes closed so tightly it hurt, ground her teeth behind closed lips.

“Good morning, Izumi,” she managed weakly, finally, then continued in a hurry to her office.

Moping wasn’t really her style, but the moment she dropped her bag on the couch, the urge to flop down beside it was overwhelming. Chewing on the inside of her cheek, she opened the bag and pulled out her Domo-kun plushie and hugged it fiercely.

“So pathetic,” she sighed, setting her chin on top of Domo-kun’s head and staring at the wall beyond her desk on the other side of the room.

She knew it was pointless to catastrophise, to think about all that could go wrong, to reminisce about how alone and broken she’d felt when her husband had not come home from his last assignment, but those fear crept up on her just the same.

(Commissioned image - @jove-bluh)

“Morning,” Jazz chirped, entering without even knocking, but one look at Miho’s expression bordering on tears, and she pressed her lips together.

Too much pity and it Miho would lose it, too much cheer and Miho would lose it… eh, maybe she just needed to lose it.

In the end, Jazz sat down next to her BFF and knocked shoulders.

“Alien versus Predator, couch snuggles and Subaru in the kitchen wearing a frilly apron?” she offered, and Miho let out a sob-thickened chortle.

“I know I can’t afford to lose it every time he has to do his job like this,” she murmured, squishing Domo-kun more tightly. “But…”

“These are special circumstances,” Jazz excused. “You’re allowed to be freaked out, but you know I’ll look after you, and that know-it-all Subaru will look after you, everyone here will… and frankly, Goto loves you way too much to not come back.”

Problem was, she’d thought the same of Daisetsu.

“Thanks,” Miho managed, but sogged Domo-kun with her tears just the same.

 The work day turned slowly, though catching up on administrative duties was somewhat of a blessing in disguise. As she worked at her desk, Domo-kun remained in her lap like a safety blanket, and each time she felt doom descending she squeezed him to her chest, looked at her engagement ring and told herself there was no way fate could repeat itself so cruelly.

“Miss Fujiwara?” Izumi interrupted at one point.

Somehow, that name jarred in her ears now.

“Mr Yuasa is on the phone and would like to speak with you,” he elaborated.

Miho managed, just, to hide her cringe behind a tired mask.

“Okay, thank you. You can put him through,” she exhaled, but Izumi’s following question didn’t sound so sure.

“Are you sure?” he offered. “I mean, I could get Miss Mann to handle it.”

“Jazz has a lot to do already,” Miho reasoned. “Thanks, but I’ve got this.”

After discussing matters with Takao, it had been decided that he would contact both of the other clients with whom Miho had been pictured, aside from Subaru. His appointment had been with Yuasa Chiaki that morning, and though Takao had indicated he would convey MJS’s preference for the office to be contacted directly, there was no way it could legally be prohibited.

Miho did not wish to talk to him, but, she couldn’t deny him either, and with a sigh and deep inhale, she picked up the telephone receiver and answered.

There was not as much outrage as Miho might have expected, though she was sure that was largely thanks to Takao’s cool and professional approach to outlining what had occurred. When he suggested they catch up to discuss the matter further, however, Miho scowled.

“It’s my understanding Mr. Maruyama’s explanation of the situation was quite comprehensive,” she said in a measured tone, but her fingernails were dug fiercely into Domo-kun’s belly. “At this time I have no further news about the culprit responsible for the photographs.”

“I’d like to see them,” he stated, and Miho’s stomach churned.

His date scenario had been kinky – despite, or maybe even because of, his small stature, he was a dominant sexual personality that bordered upon the cruel. There had been moments when she’d nearly called it to a close, and she’d been relieved when he ultimately decided not to pursue a match.

Requesting to see the photos that had violated the privacy of them both was, at best, in poor taste.

“Absolutely not,” she dropped.

Blunt.

Flat.

Bordering on icy.

“You know what we did that night, you were there, and you are also well aware that the terms of our contractual agreement prohibits clients from recording date scenarios in any form,” she added. “Right now the pictures are evidence in a police investigation, and when they are no longer required, as Mr. Maruyama would also have told you, they will be destroyed.”

“I’m prohibited,” Chiaki sniffed, and Miho felt her hackles rising even further, “but how can I be certain you won’t keep them for your own enjoyment?”

Because, you creepy little cretin, I didn’t enjoy you then, or now.

But she kept that response locked inside her. Just.

“This is my job, Mr. Yuasa,” she said instead, her tone tight, so close to snapping. “Our engagement was a part of a business process - nothing more. If you would like assurance the images will be destroyed beyond my word, then please pursue dialogue with Mr. Maruyama so legal documentation can be formally drafted.”

“Hmm, I guess I’ll do that then,” he mused, but it sounded like he wasn’t serious, teasing, provoking.

That’s pretty much where the conversation ended. Miho bid him a good day, hung up, and headed for the break room – but ran into Rose who had two mugs.

“Thought you might like some tea,” she said with a cautious smile, and Miho exhaled a looooong breath.

“And an opportunity to bitch about this disgusting little git if you’ve got fifteen minutes to spare.”

Rose grinned.

“Paperwork is all that’s calling me for the rest of the day,” she declared. “So bitch as long as you’d like.”

And so Miho wasted Rose’s time for the rest of the day, regaling stories of interest from the beginning of MJS. The nostalgia session was interrupted only by Jazz and H checking in, and a text message from Subaru asking her what she wanted for dinner.

“I suppose beer, isn’t really an acceptable response?” Miho smirked, but Rose grinned.

“Sounds right to me,” she chuckled.

“Hmhm, Jazz is coming over for a movie or two, you want to join? Assuming you’re not busy with your puppy?”

“My…?” Rose began, but realised Jazz must have told her about her evening at the gallery. “Oh right. Nah, not tonight. What we watching?”

And so Rose joined the party, and Miho let Subaru know he’d be cooking for five… assuming that H would join the party.

 That evening, the four women rolled into Goto’s apartment, and all dressed in their pajamas piled onto the couch. With Miho and Domo-kun in the middle, they huddled under the one king sized doona, while Subaru, compete with his pink apron, delivered snacks and drinks.

“I could totally get used to this,” Rose grinned, snagging another beer from the tray Subaru brought over.

“I’ve been looking at wait staff for the wedding,” Jazz put in. “Maybe you should just do it.”

“Hey,” Subaru glared, but Miho intervened.

“Thanks, Subaru,” she smiled genuinely. “This is exactly what I needed.”

“Just don’t make a mess on the couch, okay? I have to sleep out here,” he huffed, but she could see he was relieved to see her a little happier.

A little later when he caught her on the way back from the toilet, he told her Shinonome and his students had pulled all sorts of devices from his apartment, not just cameras.

“You know I don’t want to make you feel worse but, pictures might not be all this asshole has of us,” he admitted, his entire face one giant cringe.

Asshole may not have been the best word to use.

“Christ,” she hissed, leaning against the wall, rubbing the back of her neck. “I’m sorry Subaru.”

“Hey, I don’t blame you,” he frowned, this time at the idea she actually thought he was holding her responsible. “As if I didn’t know my house was wired like that. I should be the one apologising.”

“Let’s just both be sorry,” she smiled weakly, before Jazz calling out for more beer drew them back to the lounge.

At the end of several movies, early in the morning, Subaru called the event to a close.

All four women piled into the one bed, sandwiching Miho in the middle again.

In the dark, even with a warm body snuggled up with her, Miho couldn’t sleep. That body wasn’t Goto’s. She wondered what he was doing – if he was asleep, where he was asleep, what he was dreaming about.

But something told her, wherever he was, he was wondering the same about her – and it was eventually this that led her to sleep.

 When morning came, Subaru rolled off the couch bright and early and took stock of the living room. Despite his efforts to keep up with the mess, the four women had done a real number – still, he smiled wryly, because Miho had, for a short time at least, been able to forget her anxiety.

Shame she had to go marrying Goto and all.

With a snort he tidied. Folded his blanket, collected bottles, wiped down surfaces, and contemplated what he was going to feed the hungry horde.

Eggs, lots of eggs – protein.

When they still hadn’t stirred by 8am, he hazarded closer to the bedroom door. Maybe he hoped, just a little, to hear giggling and the thwap of pillows being tossed about, but all he did hear was snoring.

“That’s definitely Jazz,” he snickered quietly to himself, then pushed the door in a little. “You lot want breakfast?”

He’d raised his voice to a conversational level, but only snoring replied.

“Recording this would totally be in poor taste,” he sighed, by peeked into the dim interior.

What he found, sprawled on the king sized bed, was a ridiculous tangle of arms, legs, pillows blankets and bed-head.

Then he saw pajama bottoms on the floor, amid another articles of clothing, and arched a brow.

“No way,” he exhaled… inhaled… then sighed as he began to collect the girls’ clothes and fold everything into neat piles.

He scuttled out, however, when Miho rolled over, flopping her arm across Jazz’ chest and snuggling against her.

“Christ,” Subaru muttered, and left them be in favour of brewing some strong coffee.

Eventually they all stumbled out, not looking too hungover but certainly like they didn’t have the best night’s sleep. Subaru’s coffee and breakfast spread was very welcome, and Jazz couldn’t help but comment how Miho and Goto should keep Subaru on as a manservant after they get married.

“Unless you’d prefer to come and work for Kuni and I,” she quipped cheekily.

“Hey, he’s my butler!” Miho exclaimed, pouting in an exaggerated fashion.

“Oh god don’t mention butlers,” H groaned under her breath, before inhaling deeply over her mug.

“The apron’s kind of cute,” Rose put in and Subaru tipped his chin up a little. “Haruka made it for me.”

“So it’s true Goto’s mother is in love with you?” Jazz snickered. “I thought Miho was exaggerating.”

“Hey, she’s a great woman, and we happen to share many…” he began in defence of himself, only to realise he was making things worse.

Miho just smiled, but it wavered a little when she thought of how heartbroken Issei had looked when he’d seen the photos of her and Subaru.

She nearly jumped out of her chair when her phone rang, and it turned out to be none other than the woman they’d just been talking about.

“Mrs. Goto, good morning,” Miho greeted as cheerfully as she could while she rose from her chair and moved into the lounge to take the call

“Come on, that makes me feel so ooold,” Haruka grumbled. “You managed to call Shinichi father…”

“I’m sorry, Mum,” Miho corrected, and that made her want to smile. “What can I do for you?”

“Well,” Haruka murmured, and Miho could tell she was frowning. “I let a couple of message for Seiji but he hasn’t responded, and he’s usually so good with that if he’s not…”

“Yeah, he left on assignment yesterday morning,” Miho confirmed, flopping down on the couch and searching about for Domo-kun. “Is it something I can help with?”

“Such a polite girl, even given what you’re going through,” Haruka sighed. “It’s just, I haven’t been able to contact Issei since he stormed out. I’ve tried calling and texting and even emailing. He’s never not responded before and I’m worried.”

“He’s at the Hakusan Campus of Toyo University right? My schedule’s pretty open, I could give him a call and if he doesn’t answer, check out his dorm?”

He would love that… maybe if I took Subaru with me?

Um… yeah maybe not.

“Would you?” Haruka replied, and Miho got the impression of her clutching her hands together in prayer.

“No problem,” Miho smiled. “I really do need to talk to him again anyway; I don’t want to leave things as they are.”

Haruka was very grateful, overly so perhaps, that Miho was willing to help, and it just made Miho feel all the more like she needed to make things right with Issei – before his brother returned from his case preferably.

Before the other girls left, Jazz agreed to go with Miho to the university at lunch time if Issei didn’t answer his phone messages before then.

“He still not responding?” Subaru asked, finally getting himself ready to leave.

“Nope,” Miho frowned. “I’ve texted him a couple of times, left him voicemail. I can understand him being upset at me for what he saw, but not his mother.”

“Well, if Jazz can’t go with you, the kid can wait until I’m done with my shift,” Subaru told her sternly, and Miho nodded obediently.

“Hmm, I need to grab a couple of things from my place on the way to work, if you have time?”

She phrased it as a question, but she knew Subaru would make time.

“All right, hurry the hell up or Katsuragi is going to have my ass.”

 After thanking him for last night, and for going out of his way, they arrived at Miho’s apartment bantering in high spirits, until Subaru suddenly seized her arm, shoved her behind him, and drew his gun with his free hand.

“Wha?” Miho exclaimed, peeking around him just enough to see her door ajar. “No fucking way,” she hissed.

“Stay close behind me,” he told her in a low voice. “I can’t leave you out here in case they’re just waiting for a chance to grab you.”

“Jesus,” she muttered, swallowing, trying not to panic, while at the same time trying not to be overwhelmed by anger.

Inch by inch they moved through the door, and room by room they cleared the apartment, stepping over items strewn about callously, everything turned over, nothing left in its place.

“Clear,” Subaru said finally, and though Miho’s shoulder relaxed a little, she couldn’t help the clenching of her jaw as she continued to take in the carnage.

“You said Detective Kyobashi was put on your case, right?” Subaru grunted, holstering his gun and taking out his phone. “Don’t touch anything.”

“I know,” she snapped, standing there just staring. “Ugh, I don’t… my jewellery is still here, this… if you’re going to break in why leave the good stuff.”

“Check your underwear, photographs, stuff like that,” Subaru prompted, and Miho exhaled a sickened breath. “Just don’t…”

“Touch anything, yeah I got it,” she muttered, shuffling into the bedroom.

She was relieved to find it seemed her underwear remained, while spread all over the place, all pieces she could recall were present and accounted for.

“So what? Scare tactics now, or are you really looking for something?” she sighed, again joining Subaru – who was still on the phone – in the lounge.

Not once did he look in a rush to leave her, and though while they waited for Kyobashi to arrive he had to call his boss and a colleague to fill in, at all times it was clear he would remain with her for as long as she needed him to.

Honestly, Miho didn’t know how she felt.

It seemed clear whoever was responsible had waited for Goto to be out of the way before rummaging through her belongings, but there had been plenty of nights she’d been at his place. This suggested it was just as much about unsettling here while she didn’t have her usually support, as it was about breaking into her apartment, and that was more settling than just burglary.

When her statement had been taken, Kyobashi gave her the all clear to return to work while forensics checked for prints – but he didn’t like the chances; the photographs had come back clean of any unknown fingerprints. He told Miho he’d had visible uniforms outside Goto’s place to deter anyone from going through there as well, and made certain she understood she wasn’t to go anywhere without someone else.

“You sure you don’t want me to stay?” Subaru questioned, hand against her back as they walked into the MJS building.

“You’d be bored out of your mind,” Miho pointed out. “Unless you want to actually sit and talk about the marriage candidates you keep rejecting?”

“Eh, not especially?” he replied cagily, rubbing the back of his neck. “But, if you’d feel better just having me around, I can stay.”

“Izumi’s here, and I think either Rose or Jazz are wandering around somewhere too,” Miho pointed out. “I’ll be safe enough here.”

“Well, I won’t finish until at least 9 now, but if no one is able to be here with you that late…” he began, but Miho cut him off by pulling him into a hug.

“Thanks, but I’ll manage. Someone will be here until you’re able to pick me up,” she told him firmly, then stepped back with a smile. “Go, or Katsuragi will be mad.”

“Okay, but no outings,” he grunted, backing away.

“Sure thing,” she conceded, raising her hands in surrender. “And thank you.”

Jazz was in fact waiting for Miho in her office, waiting to get the lowdown on the morning’s drama. When all was recounted, Miho finally caught a quiet moment with a cup of tea in her hands, until her phone vibrated where she’d left it in her pocket.

A text message.

Goto Junior is a little busy to answer you right now.

- Daisetsu

And Miho just stared at it, this message that had come from Issei’s number stored in her phone, with the name of her dead husband attached.

Had she told Issei his name? She could remember. Was this is petty way at striking back at her for having slept with the man he had crushed on for so many years? That seemed a bit extreme – but what else could it have been?

Miho felt frozen, unblinking and peering until the light on her phone’s screen dimmed and then went black.

“What is…”

Then it rang.

Issei’s number.

And she stared at it as it rang and rang and rang, until it stopped.

Then began again.

Swallowing, she pressed receive, and lifted the phone to her ear.

“Hello?”

“One would think you’d answer your husband after the first ring,” a somewhat familiar voice declared.

Familiar for two reasons.

It sounded like the voice of the man from the alley, though echoing like he was standing in a large enclosed space. It also sounded like…

“Can’t be,” she exhaled and hung up.

Trembling, her hand and the phone fell into her lap, and with wide eyes she stared in shock at nothing in particular, brain buzzing, heart thumping, mouth suddenly dry.

Angrily her phone cried out again, and she both wanted to answer it and not.

“Where is Issei?” she growled the moment she answered for the second time.

“Issei is it?” Daisetsu’s voice responded. “That close already?”

“Where is he?” she repeated through her teeth.

The voice on the other end sounded more disant as he spoke.

“Tell her you’re fine, for now,” Daisetsu instructed, and the voice that followed was Issei’s.

“Miho?” he managed – tired, weak. “No matter what he says don’t…”

“That’s quite enough,” Daisetsu sniffed, clearly reclaiming the phone. “It seems heroics run in his family.”

“I don’t know who you are, or what you want, but don’t you dare hurt Issei,” Miho snarled, pushing back her chair violently and getting to her feet.

“Just stay right there in your office, Miho,” Daisetsu told her calmly. “Involving anyone else in our affairs could lead to someone getting hurt.”

Miho shook where she stood.

She could not fathom what she heard, could not reconcile it with what she knew – a husband dead many years, long rotten in the ground, spoke to her now as if it was perfectly normal.

“What do you…” she started, but he predicted her question and answered it.

“To see you of course,” he responded, and it sounded so genuine, so… so… like she remembered him.

It plunged a knife into her chest, sank it deeply and then tore her right down the middle.

“It can’t be,” she whispered, her eyes burning. “Daisetsu is dead.”

“Actually I’m in perfect health,” he disagreed. “But you’ll be able to see that for yourself soon enough. There’s a car parked outside, blue with a beige interior – the keys are in the…”

“I’m not,” she began, but then bit her tongue.

There was a moment of silence as he let her think about her refusal.

“Don’t hurt him,” she sighed, ever so quietly.

“Take the car Miho, and follow the GPS already programmed,” Daisetsu commanded, but his voice was light, not the voice of a man who’d taken someone Miho cared about hostage. “Tell no one, or I may have to start mailing much fleshier presents to dear old Mum and Dad.”

“Don’t you dare,” Miho snapped, digging around in her bag for her keys – if she took her bag, Izumi was sure to notice her take it to the break room.

“I will know,” he assured her. “Imagine how horrified his big brother would be to learn you were responsible for missing fingers, toes and other things.”

“All right, I’m leaving now just…”

She didn’t know what else to add, how to add.

Even if this was some sicko pretending to be Daisetsu, and that had to be it, Issei was real, there with him. She knew Goto would be just as horrified to learn she would purposefully put herself in danger, but what else could she do?

Wait for Issei’s pinky to show up?

“Go now,” he prompted, and then hung up.

But Miho remained motionless, inertia forged by disbelief, rooting her feet to the floor until her phone vibrated again.

Hurry up.

She had, along with her narrator, spoken ill of the stupidity of Voltage MCs, but now Miho found herself in the kind of situation requiring her to rush headlong into a threat she was not trained to deal with.

But for the sake of family, it wasn’t as if she could stand idle.

With keys in hand she paused just a second at her desk to scrawl something on a note before trying to ‘look casual’ exiting her office and heading to the break room, when she was freaking out.

“You want tea, Izumi?” she asked as she passed his desk, and he looked up.

“I can make it if you’d like some,” he was quick to say, but Miho shook her head.

“Nah, I need to keep busy,” she replied, and continued on her way – and kept going, just touching her palm to the door frame before continuing quickly down the corridor and out of the sight to the alley exit.

On the street and suddenly frantic, she looked back and forth until she spied the blue car, the only blue car on the street in fact.

Her pulse thundered so loudly she didn’t hear a single of her footfalls, nor the roar of the engine when she pressed the ignition button and the GPS blinked to life.                                                                                                  

Then she drove.

 After a while, it occurred to Izumi he hadn’t seen Miho go back to her office, and so he went in search of her… only to find a sticky-note attached to the door frame.

“Miss Mann! Miss Mann!” Izumi shouted, busting into Jazz’s office despite the fact she was with a client.

“Mr. Takasaki?” Jazz blinked, though less shocked than the man seated on the sofa to her left.

Izumi, however, was far too gone in panic to care, and shoved the sticky-note in Jazz’s face.

“Miss Fujiwara is gone!” he exclaimed, and Jazz focused in on Miho’s brief missive.

Bad guys have Goto Issei. Track my phone.

@hifftn @nitelotus @mirandaflamel @smutmylifeup @smile-smile-ichthys

[adventureswithten]

A tenth Doctor x fem!reader where he meets the reader for the first time because the reader got caught with some sort of alien and then the Doctor comes and gets her out but then she starts helping him and then he asks her to travel with him sorry if it's not specific but please do something along these lines :) thanks!

These things that had kid napped you were… unique. That was a nicer word than calling them creepy. Because they kind of were. You shivered silently as you remembered the slimy touch of their frog like skin, glowing green. The slime wasn’t the only thing frog like, the whole group of them were basically six feet tall, giant walking frogs, with red orange eyes too far apart and long fingers with sticky round pads on the ends. What they wanted with you, you really weren’t sure.

At first you’d thought, some guy at the pub had drugged you, then you thought maybe you were just dreaming. Near your flat you’d watched what appeared to be a little tree frog hop from the rose bush and block your path. You bent down to see if it was injured and in a split second you’d been snapped, teleported to a holding cell. You’d no idea how much time had passed or even if you were on the same planet anymore. Which really seemed bizarre but then again, you’d always had a wild imagination. The question was, what did they want with you?

As if procured by your thoughts two “guards” opened your cell and began to walk you down the bamboo lined hallway. You could’ve struggled or tried to run, but the point seemed mostly moot. Where would you go? And more than likely you’d just be caught by more frogs. Best to just play civil and nice and maybe sweetly ask them to take you back home. Perhaps they were peaceful. Or maybe even though you couldn’t understand their croaky and high pitched words, they could understand you.

Moments later you were second guessing your decision not to run. They had you sitting in a big round hot tub sized thing filled with stick plasma stuff. It was gross but it rendered your arms and legs immobile. Just perfect. Across the walls you could see x ray images and weird computer screens. The words were gibberish but you could clearly see pictures of brains and such. That was just peachy, you been abducted by brain suckers.

For a moment you fancied a white night coming in an rescuing you. But that wasn’t quite right. You didn’t really want or need a hero, but someone with more brains than brawn. With a heart so big and intelligent eyes, kindness radiating off of him in waves. He’d swoop in and instead of killing your captors he’d cleverly negotiate your return and then sweep you off into the sunset to a library where you could connect with one another over your favorite books.

It was at that moment, as a gooey green tentacle was perched by your ear that you became relatively sure you were dreaming. Because only in a dream could you think of something and it actually happen. And when it did your surprise and shock felt very undream like.

“Let her go and I won’t harm any of you.” A voice said from your left and you turned immediately. Just beyond the view of a glowing green extended finger was a man, at least he appeared to be for all intents and purposes. He wore a blue suit, a bit disheveled but still somehow looking handsome on him. His chocolate brown hair was a mess of long points dropping over his forehead and on his feet were red converse matching his tie. Your mouth popped open on surprise but you quickly closed it in an effort not to give another opening for brain collection.

A heated discussion began between the frogs and your new hero, but you could only understand half of it.

“I’m the Doctor. You know who I am. You know what I’ve done. If it’s imagination you want look to the stars or any other planet but do not harm anyone or anything!” He ordered. Then he sent you a cheeky sideways grin. A blush rose to your cheeks. The frogs seemed instantly startled and backed away with their webbed sticky fingers held up. Apparently this man was intimidating, but for the life of you you had no idea why.

The tall man walked over to you and gave you a serious stare.

“I’m going to need you to NOT panic. But I’m going to have to pull you out because your arms and legs won’t work.” He said.

“I’m paralyzed?!” You cried and he looked thoughtful a moment.

“Well, not paralyzed exactly. You just have lost mobility of everything below your neck. Okay so you’re paralyzed but it’s temporary!” He answered and for a moment you were relieved. From his pocket he pulled a strange metal devise with a blue glowing tip making an odd noise and suddenly you felt the plasm drain from the tub and you flopped to the bottom. With a groan you thought about how this was turning out to be nothing like you’d hoped.

With skinny arms stronger than you imagined the Doctor hoisted you up and wrapped your arms around his neck as if carrying you piggy back style. With one hand on your wrists and the other on his sonic screwdriver he began speaking.

“This species is protected by me. As are most others.” He said. Then, you felt your fingers becoming mobile again and smiled.

“Wait!” You said. The Doctor paused and you could see him cutting his eyes at you over his shoulder. They were brown with flecks of gold and in them you saw pain and loneliness and it made you hurt somewhere deep inside. Finally with your finger you pointed over to your bag in the corner. You carried it everywhere and since this was a dream, you had an idea.

The Doctor caught sight of what you pointed to and grabbed it from the corner, more of he frogs backing away at his approach.

“Reach inside. Give them that notebook.” You said to him. The notebook in question was one you had filled with all sort of ideas, for children’s books and fantasy creatures, poems and pictures of colors you liked. You felt bad for anything that didn’t have an imagination. And even though they’d kidnapped you, you wanted to help these strange beings.

The Doctor didn’t ask any questions and you said, “if they can translate it, they can have it. Maybe it’ll be enough.”. The Doctor didn’t tell you right then how wonderful he though you, or just how brilliant and amazing you were, but inside he knew he’d want to spend more time with you. If he could.

As he carried you away, you felt the feeling coming back to your arms and found yourself locking tighter around his neck. As he made his way down a corridor you noticed a blue telephone volume box and were confused.

“Hm. That’s weird. Why would I put one of those in my dreams. No one uses them or sees them about anymore.” You said aloud and you heard an adorable chuckle from your hero.

Everything else sort of seemed like a blur, the sort of control room that didn’t match the outward appearance of he blue box. The noises and the whirring and blowing youd heard it make, and sitting on the floor waiting for your legs to decide to work. By the time they did, the blue box fell silent and the Doctor was leaned over his controls looking forlorn. Assuming your alarm was to go off at any minute you opened the doors and found yourself in your little flat.

Poking your head back inside, “You wanna cups? It’s the least I can do after you saved my mind.” You said and he gave you a white toothy smile that nearly made your legs go numb again before following you out. With shaky limbs you put on the kettle and decided to take a quick shower while the Doctor sipped his tea. Moments later you emerged in cotton shorts and a loose fitting tee from the powder room and were relieved to find he was still sitting on your sofa.

“So who are you exactly?” You asked him. His eyebrows shot up in surprise and gingerly he set down his tea cup.

“Oh I’m the Doctor! Bit of a traveler really. It’s nice. No job, money, taxes, bills. Just me and my TARDIS.” He answered.

“Sounds kind of… solitary.” You said, the smile falling from your lips before you covered your mouth to yawn.

“ ‘Spose it doesn’t have to be. If you wanted to, well, come with me.” He said. You thought a long moment before you answered him.

“How about you ask me again in the morning. When I’m disappointed to find this was all a dream when I wake.” You said and turned to go back to your room. You stopped to barely whisper, “But if you are real, please stay.”

And he did. He watched you sleep and tucked you in when your covers fell away. He marveled at your home and the little quirks that made it yours personally. He felt happy just to be anywhere near you. So, when dawn broke he barely could hold back his joy when he asked, “Ready to go?”.

[janiklandre-blog]

Monday, April 17, 2017

On Easter Monday - 9:45 a.m.  - not a holiday - yet part holiday - my eye op scheduled for this afternoon - I am to be there at 1:30 - equipped my grandson with phone numbers - very grateful that he is coming. - Once again my mother - she often talked about how when in the 1930's things were getting worse and worse in Europe it was the blood families who were drawing together - her best friend Marianne for whom I was named - she and her daughter later perished in Auschwitz - but close as she had been to my mother - after we had come to Prague and Marianne and my mother lived in the same town again - my mother lamented, the friendship was never the same again.

The Catholic Worker prides itself on being a family - often I was assured of being a member of that family - yet in this instance - how fortunate my grandson now lives in Brooklyn. How fortunate I am to have a grandson.

When I came here at 9:15 the computer room was still closed - security told me of the three maintenance men only one on duty - a holiday? - once again my bells were going off, learn to use the ipad - she promised it would be open by 9:30 - I waited a bit beyond that - glad to find it open. Cannot deny being nervous about the operation - it was nice two weeks ago to have Pim and his friend take me - having time for me later, Pim helping with the drops, taking me next next morning for a 7:30 appointment to the doctor - but I will manage - somebody there to walk out with me from the clinic is a law. The laws. Our president will do away with all of them - also may do away with us, altogether. Things do look scary.

People all say - nothing to it with these cataracts - and of course compared to most other operations it is "nothing" - still I think it was late February I went to the original doctor - now out of the picture but the two doctors still seem to collaborate after some fashion - and it will be the middle of May that my last eye drop is scheduled for. Besides - when did I begin fretting over this operation - the optometrist who had been my student whom I so much liked had, so I was told by his nasty successor written something about cataracts in my file but kindly not told me - this was 10 years ago. It was seven years ago his successor nastily told I had cataracts - it's written here he said - I never went to see him again - and have found out how many people are trying doctor after doctor. You are never sure do you really need a procedure or are they trying to make money. That is what modern medicine has come to. Harder and harder to find a doctor who went into it because he/she loves people and not "it is a good business". 

Luckily until now I have been able to live with a real minimum of medical care - my European doctor friends always willing to share their knowledge with me over the telephone. Never an American doctor - the law forbids it - and the law has made so many people happy to sue - which has made things worse and not better. Insurance rates for doctors are astronomical - also years and years to pay off debts for their education -  urgent reforms are needed. Once I found a wonderful nurse practitioner - she was sitting next to an anatomical chart - had time - was happy to give me anatomical instruction that I badly need - it was an instance where an expensive Park Avenue wanted to operate immediately - this must have been 1975 - the nurse practitioner suggested exercises. The doctor had been recommended by Christine F.

I guess a topic to dwell on this morning - though there is something I had met to mention. Among the familiar faces I met at the funeral on Saturday was a man who long has been called Jerry the Peddler, a Vietnam veteran, in his 60's now he already came to my attention around 1985 when a woman who had changed her name to Cassandra mentioned him. She died a few years ago, she came into my life in 1968 - still Thelma then - a student at the New School about to take PhD qualifying exams in anthropology that she passed. She was the mother of four sons, she also was a student of communes. I met her at a meeting where urban communes were planned - and again in my memoirs you could read about my involvements with urban communes, other communes - always an observer. Cassandra wanted to do a dissertation as a participant observer - filled reams and reams with her observations - got three of her four sons involved - never could get any funding. Under Carter - the president - she got some job in some program she liked - teaching computer skills - funds were cut - she was disgusted - and got into peddling - yes, she did love marihuana. On East 9th street she met a squatter, Jerry - and this was actually how I learned about the squatters - also would have loved to write a book - no connections, no funding, no guidance - did not know how to go about it. Peddling, any kind of business, alien to me, I made do on shoe strings.

I see Jerry practically throwing himself under garbage trucks hauling away pocessions of homeless people who had set up a tent city in Tompkins Square Park - they with help from the squatters and also other people fought City Hall for three years, almost unprecedented. I was there at every raid - bringing cookies, hoit coffee and helpoing people robbed of the little they owned in small ways. One woman asked me to safe keep her journal - Cassandra asked me to safe keep beautiful poems she wrote - all burned in 2000 -  including my 6th Street Log - typed forerunner to this here blog. Hundreds of pages.

Back to Jerry last Saturday -  I had spent not too long ago a little time with him and he had told me about the program he had found - it involved gardening - and when I saw him Saturday he was fitter than ever - I asked had marijuana kept him young - no, he said - gardening. I think the garden he works is not too far away and in days not very long ago I walked, and walked watched what was happening in this here neighborhood and well might have come across his garden - yes - gardening - my mother loved it, my younger son loves it - I - when we lived in post war Germany my mother did wonders with a little stony soill at her disposal - no tools, no water hoses - we worked practically with bare hands, carried water out in pots - yes, she supplemented our rather poor nutrition in signficant ways - but scolded and scolded and scolded my father and me for not helping enough - in any event, I never wanted to garden again. It seems - my mother's father when they had almost no money turned a little bit of land practically into subsistence farming - my grandmother did not garden much, she raised geese and chickens, was a wonderful baker, cook - house, laundry spotlessly clean - and as my mother describes in her memoirs - a most wonderful volunteer social worker - many people seeking her council.

The green thumb, it has passed me by - the Central Park Conservancy has a long list of applicants who love to garden - and have turned the park into a great garden. I do enjoy their efforts, much is in bloom now, I love to gp there - don't have a desire to put my hands into the soil. Might keep me a lot fitter than sitting at this here computer. Jerry does also show that marijuana consumption has not hurt him. A truly kind, alwasys smiling man - he gave me a friendly hug.

Well, it 11 a.m. - quickly about yesterday - a lovely long lunch at the Ukrainians with Haralld - we met when he was 20 and I was 22 - for years were very little in touch - alas he lives in Los Angeles - by now we both have lost many friends who died - and enjoy each other and have much to tell each other about our lives. He gives me excellent advice - he is a lot more practical than I am. We then came to my roof - it was a bit windy - and we both preferred the sun vehind clouds where it stayed most of the time. We enjoyed the green furniture. Then on to the Catholic Worker - where he wisely suggested I should keep my long time bonds - was greeted in the usual very friendly way - Edgar insisted on playing on the piano for us in the auditorium - took Hrald over to 1st Avenue for the #15 that only comes on ther rarest of occasions, specially on a Sunday - but there it was and Hrald got on.

At the CW I had seen the lovingly set tables for Easter dinner - tablecloths, cloth napkins - the best service in the world - I returned for the dinner - was served by M.H. - lovely dinner, devilled eggs, slices of kielbasa with - now the German comes: Kren - cubes of cheese, endless refills of apple juice - mashed potatoes , carrots, string besns with a cheese sauce, roast beef that I forwent - they really were outdoing themselves - I watched - just don't have much to say to the topics broached.

Kept waking up - but here I am - ready to leavetoo early - I am everywhere too early - peasant background?  Have caught charter flightd that left two hours early - Zurich - too expensive for them to sit on the tarmac - they had arrived early - the flight was a shaky affsir, very old plane, no idea who flew it, but it got me to New York - to a difficult scenario - all described in my memoirs. I know,I am writing them over - since I don't find ways for publishing, that is what I have been doing. And yes, I do repet myself. Also Harald told me horror story of a man publishing on face book - I think he nearly landed in jail - also said tumbler is often used for pornography - who knows into what hot waters I still my get - with a little bit of luck, a little bit of luck - hopefully I'll be back here tomorrow, and tomorrow - some more tomorrows   adios Marianne

[store2oldguys]

Unlock the Psychic Within

  Article Body: Becoming a full time psychic and healer is something that was chosen for me rather than a conscious choice I made. Talk to psychics and many times you’ll find the same story; one of the innate ability being awoken within us at some point in our lives that pushes us to do this work

One of the first things I noticed was that suddenly to many people I’d become some sort of alien. A lot were sure I’d totally “lost it”, giving up the big salaries and high profile of my previous occupation to become something they saw as ‘flaky’ and ‘weird’…

What undoubtedly influenced them, was the word ‘psychic’ conjuring up a vision of the archetypal end-of-the-pier’ fortuneteller sitting aloft a crystal ball professing that ‘you’ll meet a tall man driving a sports car and have 3 children’.

This stereotype is far from the truth of most psychics’ daily work, which is being someone who can commune with the universe and spirit to offer guidance, reason, direction and foresight beyond the conventional; being there for people who need to find their way onto their destined life path. I use the term ‘calling’ because when it happens, the drive to use the ability is profound and transcends other concerns such as what other people are going to think.

Even with the chuckling and comments received from others when I changed my situation I’ve rarely come across anyone who isn’t fascinated by psychics and psychic ability – both skeptics and believers alike. Somewhere within all of us we’re intrigued, we have an underlying human quest to know what life is all about and that makes most of us express at least some interest in anyone who could possibly see beyond the physical world.

It’s this fascination that seems to be a part of everyone that makes those of us working in metaphysics the subject of endless conjecture. Many want to believe but can’t see past their own boundaries that if it hasn’t happened to them then its hard to believe and they need what they call ‘proof’.

You won’t ever meet a psychic who hasn’t been asked to ‘prove it’ and yet despite proving it every day in our work, many individuals need to personally experience a psychic reading to start to accept on any level that there is something ‘out there’ beyond what we can see and touch and taste and smell and hear. This is because we live in a world of 3 dimensions, looking to our five senses for our sense of reality, which actually blinds us to the other dimension, that of energy. Our ‘proof’ that something is real is if we can see, touch, taste smell or hear it.

To question that 3 dimensional reality for a moment in order to illustrate the point…Very few people understand the theories of electromagnetic propagation, yet we all experience turning on a TV set and watching the pictures sent through the air…We can’t see, feel, smell or touch these magical waves and most don’t understand them; yet radio transmission has become an accepted norm and so we don’t see the need to question it, we just turn on the TV. It’s being trapped in this physical version of truth and reality and only accepting what can be manifested in 3 dimensions i.e. the TV set, the radio, the microwave etc, that has conditioned us away from our natural psychic ability to read energy.

Energy is at the core of our being. It’s emotions, senses, intuition, sensation, spirit, vibrancy, courage, love, passion and pain – all of those things that aren’t thoughts. In other words it’s primal to our existence…and yet we often only credit what we think is real because it has some sort of 3 dimensional form.

A classic I often hear when telling someone another does actually love them is “my friends say if he loved me he would be with me”…Well ok but these friends just discounted the entire range of negative human emotions like fear, insecurity, doubt, guilt, worry etc. In being slaves to their ‘reality’ they are being utterly blinded to what’s actually happening.. The client will often then ask how I ‘know’ this person loves them. That’s an easy answer, I can feel it…

When we can allow ourselves the freedom to open our minds and more importantly our instincts to a world beyond the physical, that we open a doorway to accessing our own spiritual / psychic potential and then things that previously seemed supernatural begin to make a new sense and reason.

Unlocking ones own psychic potential isn’t an add-on to our conventional way of living – it’s living life in a totally new awareness. Once we can do that our natural abilities can be accessed up to each individuals maximum potential. Remember I said that many of us find ourselves on this path whether we chose it or not. That’s because as part of our destiny we had to go through some personal transformation that brought about this awareness, and with it, our ability to use our psychic connection to the universe in order to help others.

Ok so if you’ve managed to stick with me this far, then I guess you may want to know how you can access your own abilities…Well like most powerful things the concept is ridiculously easy, but the implementation takes work. Today you are reading this and thinking; thinking that’s driving your actions, for example you may throw the article away and not read any further or on the other hand you may decide to read on. You may also be worried that you’re late for work, feeling too hot, too cold, too tired or haven’t paid the latest telephone bill etc

So we think, that’s how we convene with our daily reality…. but while we’re doing this thinking what do we feel and sense… Feeling and sensing are the tools used to commune with the dimension of energy but thinking diverts us from attuning to these other senses..

Cosmic energy is the energy that our souls are made of, the energy that the universe is made of, the energy that links us all together and as one humankind links us to the universe. It links our destinies as individuals and the connections between us, plots our pasts, present and futures. As an example; all of my readings are via telephone and people will often ask how I can read them over a phone line. Well the answer is simple, I’m not. I don’t even need the phone line because I’m accessing their energy via the universal pool of energy from which we all came, to which we return, and within which we all live. Just like the TV transmissions mentioned earlier, spiritual energy is all around us, and all we need to do is know how to tune in to it.

From this energy psychics sense and feel thoughts and emotions and situations and often-physical descriptions. Any attuned psychic can read someone on the other side of the planet as easily as someone in the next room because we access them through the universal energy – the energy dimension which doesn’t have a distance or time, it’s omnipresent…

Do we all have this ability…yes, although some can develop to a higher level than others dependant on each individual’s maximum potential. Having worked with many people to develop their abilities; without doubt the largest hurdle is not their natural ability – it’s suspending disbelief. Some of the most natural psychics I’ve met have the problem that for a long time they don’t believe it.

The classic scenario is someone going through a development session and being asked to read a person, most usually I ask students to read someone I know well but whom they haven’t ever met. And even after they’ve described that person, their personality, situation, relationships, work, emotions and even foreseen events in their lives I often watch the face as they say “yeah but I could be wrong” or “are you sure I’ve described them properly?”

It’s that suspension of disbelief that sometimes takes years to overcome. And the more intelligent and more practical the person training the harder it usually is.. Back again to that 3 dimensional “proof”…And here we touch briefly on an even more interesting point of what is reality.. To illustrate that point, let’s say we’re in a development training session and we read a subject who the reader has never met. During the session we both feel that the subject is unhappy and not having a good time in their life. Then suppose that subject turned up and we asked them if they felt miserable and life wasn’t too good. Ok so how many people would admit that they really weren’t happy…

The point here is that we couldn’t even necessarily trust the subjects own account of his/her situation because of ego, that brain again, wanting to give an impression that “I’m fine” or “no not me I’m so damn happy”… So which is the reality ? Well here’s the punch line and it’s an important one in the context of talking about psychic abilities. There is only one reality. Probably one look at this subjects face as they walked into the room would tell us they weren’t happy even if they denied it as a form of defense mechanism. But the reality is something else. And we tuned into that reality…. So the cosmic reality is one reality, it’s not subjective, it’s not open to different interpretations, it just is

This is a vitally important point about psychic reading and it goes a lot deeper into the way the universe works but for now we’ve illustrated the point… In psychic reading, we are generally looking for answers, reasons, explanations and forecast for people. When we can tune into the person , their energy, connections, friends, worries fear etc we are sensing the true reality of what they are experiencing. but they may either not like to admit it, or be in some way confused or even delusional about what’s happening. In that case they may not accept the answers we give them too willingly.

Remember earlier in the article I commented that becoming spiritually developed – more psychically aware isn’t an add-on to an existing reality, it’s about a new reality and seeing and knowing things in a different way. The above example is typical of how often we can know a truth yet people around us may not want to accept that truth or even want us to know it. Yet it’s being totally true to what we are receiving from spirit even when the tangible evidence seems to point the opposite way, that assures our psychic development..

The actual process of psychic reading is a natural one, the real key issues to address using that ability successfully are the one’s we’ve talked about here…. Summing up, what we’re saying here is that to access one’s own psychic ability it’s necessary to take several vitally important steps to …

Accept that we are all linked via cosmic energy and suspend disbelief while you explore your abilities.

Don’t think; – sense and feel for the answers. Learning to meditate is an essential to help quiet the brain in order to tune-in.

Understand that there is only one truth to any situation. Stick to that truth and don’t waver even if others disagree or people don’t like the answer.

Know. True psychic ability gives us an inner knowing about things, a total surety without the need for any other evidence. It’s never doubting this knowing and encouraging it at all times that keeps us close to the cosmic truths…..

These things are the hardest part of the path.. Reading itself comes naturally although it is necessary to learn techniques to hone our skills and to understand how to interpret messages and to protect against negative energy.

The secrets of the universe are all there staring us in the face. It’s just that we are never going to fully understand them just by thinking…we have to access them using all of our senses and intuition, and once we can we see the real truth, the real magic behind things and it changes our understanding forever….

Have fun on your spiritual journey

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