#ohhh get coffee and walk around target.

[islascafe]

im actually out on a target run rn

Get me a candle 💖💖💖

[ddejavvu]

i remember once reading something about how spiders get drunk if they drink caffeine and just couldn't stop thinking about peter parker getting slightly dizzy when you and him go out on a date in starbucks and he drank coffee a tad too much.

OHHH POOR BABY :(( you suggest a coffee date and he's never really had a full coffee before, only sips here and there, so he agrees and then chugs his, not really thinking anything of it. except now his brain is getting a little fuzzy, the same way it did after he had one too many sips of liquor a little too hard at his aunt's new years eve party, and he can't really walk well anymore. you have to wrap your arm around his shoulders and help him home, and he thanks you with a messy kiss that almost misses your cheek, its intended target

[aneenasevla]

Devil's Food - Chapter 8

MasterList /Ayami’s Profile/Previous

Chapter 8- Chance

His first target was lying on the floor, his neck twisted at an unconventional angle, facing upwards as he lay on his stomach. Now it was just a game of waiting.

The Assassin sat in the plush office's comfortable swivel chair, sniffing a Cuban cigar the idiot had on his desk. Nice smell, it had a hint of mint in the rolled tobacco. He decided to take the box, not because he smoked, but because it would be a nice thing to have as a souvenir.

Apparently those pigs were from a smuggling gang, one of those that supplied weapons from various places to a few criminals here and there, the kind that the police even refused to investigate because of the influences among the big ones... really, what police was for? Ah yes, to whistle in traffic and make the donut and coffee trade run. Important.

Anyway, they were even smuggling weapons unique to the Kure, as far as he knew, and, well, if you mess with the clan, you mess with him too. The best part was, this kind of bullshit provided limitless fun for Raian, and now here he was, lounging in a fully comfortable chair at a table piled high with interesting papers, and he read as he was waiting for the next target to arrive. Firearms, knives, some melee weapons, even a pair of Yamanoito swords…

He stopped when he read about the swords. Heck, these Katanas were, and still are unique, hella expensive, and serialized via registration. Apparently someone was messing around more than they should, because the only way to get one of these would be to kill a Kure or steal from the Yamagami family… But he couldn't remember any of the clan that owned one of these and had died since Grandpa Erioh, the Patriarch…

Ohhh… Yamagami, eh? He knew that name… He ended up putting two and two together. So the Mousie was there in the village to retrieve these swords? Or perhaps she had been sold to the clan to finish off the idiots who had stolen the swords?

Interesting.

Maybe the fact that she was so “popular” wasn't because she was interesting after all, or because she had something special. It was because she had no other use there. And well, the Yamagami were from a good lineage. Legendary swordsmen, both in skill and craftsmanship… hmm…

 But, legends were legends, and the Kure kept the legend, but the Yamagami… pffff… all that was left of them apparently was a fat Mouse whose only sharp thing was her tongue.

Pathetic. But it was funny, at least.

He heard the sound of footsteps approaching the room, and smiled.

Finally some action.

…

"Miss, you've been called," a Kure girl said from the door.

“Me? Who called?” She turns around, taking her eyes from the desk, where she was studying.

“Mr. Hollis, he asked me to take you to the office.”

“Oh yes, I will in a moment.” She closes the books marked with hundreds of colored sticky notes, and stands up, wiping her long skirt. She follows the girl next.

Ayami noticed that her hair was very short, except for a section of hair that fell over her forehead, leaving an air of elegance on her oval face. She had long eyelashes over her eyes, thin eyebrows, and a body almost as statuesque as Fusui's. She again felt a little self-conscious, but she was used to it. It wasn't something she envied others, it was just a stupid habit of comparing herself. The girl walked confidently, with her head held high, almost as if she were catwalking, and one hand on the bar of her belt that Ayami immediately recognized as the custom of someone who walks around with a Katana. She found this amusing, because it was something she had when she did Kenjutsu, before correcting her posture in her teens.

They walked through the village, and soon she realized that they were heading towards a large typical Japanese mansion, the largest of all in the place.

“Ah, it makes sense, the office being in the patriarch’s mansion…”

“Yes, it was from Master Erioh, before he passed away” the girl nodded, a little more cheerful “He ordered Hollis to stay in charge until the new leader is able to take over.”

“I never got to ask who it was…”

“It's Karla. She's in med residency, so the big guys decided to let her focus and finish everything first.”

“Got it” Ayami looks at the girl, she was wearing a slightly formal outfit, like her “I have seen you a few times in the cafeteria, but I never asked your name…”

“Ah, I'm Kure Youko, nice to meet you.”

“My Pleasure. I don't think I need to introduce myself…”

“No, you don't” she smiles “you are Ayami, the swordsman lawyer and Raian's Candidate…”

Ayami laughs softly “No… I'm not a swordsman…”

“No? You're a Yamagami, aren't you?”

“It doesn't mean anything, in my case…” Ayami blushes “I practiced Kenjutsu but…”

“It's a pity” Youko shrugs “we have dojos around here, if you were still a practitioner, then you could train with us.”

“I'll think about the case, at least to watch. I still like the sport, I just didn't have the patience to train anymore.”

“Perfect, I'll show you later, if you want! I live very close to where you are, so we go together!” she smiles more. Ayami couldn't help but smile along.

“Are all the Kure that friendly?”

“We try, especially to the girls who will join our clan... It's a pity you ended up with the black sheep…” she stops when the other one stares at her expressionlessly “b-but we hope it works out! We give full support!”

“Of course, of course” Ayami rolls her eyes. Apparently, no one believed it could work. Understandable.

“Oh, by the way, I heard that you used to play Fruit Ninja with real Katanas… is this true?”

“What…?” Ayami blinked, surprised “No, I don’t…”

“Aw… Fusui was pleading to her brother to lend his sword, but I know that he won’t give. But I have one. Shall we play someday?”

“You really liked this Idea, didn’t you?”

“Yea! It’s awesome! But without the bombs, of course… you’re such a savage…”

“What?! You really thought that I played this? I was just joking…”

“Oh… I think it was a misunderstanding, then…” Youko shrugs “But with only the fruits it’s a pretty nice game, I have a katana, so we should really play. I’ll call you when we are ready! Aaaaand, it's here” Youko announces, pointing to a room. 

“I think I don’t have a choice anymore, then… I’m not that good at that, just warning you”

“That just makes things more fun!” Youko waved when Ayami thanked her and the two parted ways.

The lawyer entered, and saw the room. The structure was like the rest of the entire mansion, but the furniture was typical of a luxurious office. Hollis, who was sitting at the desk, stuck his head over the paperwork.

“Ah, hello miss” said the Kure “come closer.”

She obeyed “I was told you called me…”

“Yes, I called. Fusui told me you're good with bureaucracy and paperwork.”

“Well, I do what I can” she sees the pile of accumulated papers “Do you need help?”

‘Precisely. Reichii doesn't do well with this sort of thing, and Grandpa's aides are scattered around doing other outside jobs. We have other attorneys who also cover a portion, but I leave to them the services of assassination contracts and mission registration, which are a part of our larger work.”

“So… what are all these papers…?” she observes one on top of the pile.

“Certificates, Records, Property Contracts, that notary stuff” Hollis sighs “this village is independent from the rest of the other prefectures, so we have our own in-house office. Do you work with this kind of thing?”

“Well, I was majoring in criminal and civil law, but I understand the other types. Business is no stranger to me either.

“Excellent. I know you were an intern at a firm, so as soon as possible, I'll transfer you here” Hollis gets up “Fusui got her property with advantages thanks to you, so I think he deserved this position. Do not waste.”

His tone was friendly, she nodded, smiling a little.

“Thank you sir… I am honored.” then she pauses a little “I… can I ask you something…?”

“Ask two.”

She cleared her throat before starting.

“My father and my brother… how are they?” Her voice came out cautious.

“Behaved,” the assassin summed up, “we've been keeping an eye out, and apparently things are going well. Soon we will notify them of your condition.”

“Condition…” she reflected a little “so they don't know that I'm engaged…”

“Well no. But I also don't think they're in a position to complain” the Assassin folds his arms “and you understand that.”

“Honestly, sir, I just think this is extremely at odds with human rights, even more so today. But apparently we can't think about human rights when it comes to a secular contract... or women's rights…”

“No, we can't, especially since you came willingly to save them and free them from this contract, don't forget that.”

“I'm not a lawyer for nothing, sir. I don't forget my promises, and I certainly don't respect anyone who breaks them. But above that, I still love my family, and that's non-negotiable. Even if I am now at your mercy, I still want to know about them, and I don't want them to worry about me” she sighs, calming down “but it's ok, you answered my question, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for that…”  takes a deep breath “when do I start…?”

“Next week, it's time for us to transfer your legal status and, in fact, work for us. You may have this debt of honor transferred to you, but it is not a financial debt. And for sure if you are useful to us, we will not ask for free.”

“And considering that I will soon be a Kure…”

“You have every reason to work if you want to. Even more so because it's promised to someone of the main bloodline.”

“M-Main lineage?” She widens her eyes, flustered “So the… my…”

“Yes, Raian is not the strongest just by effort. It's for everything together. Insanity too, but that's debatable…”

“Oh…” suddenly she felt the weight on her back thirty times greater. But at the same time her cheeks flushed, her ego a little graced. Until that prison really wasn't that confined… “I… I think I owe you a thank you, so… Thanks for the treatment you're giving me.”

“As we said, you had nothing to do with your father's mistake. It wouldn't be fair of us at all. And, as you may have noticed, joining the two clans together is better than keeping them separate. This should have been resolved centuries ago, but anyway…” he shrugs ‘you are dismissed for today, Miss.”

“Yes, sorry to interrupt your work” she bows “that was enlightening.”

“Yeah, now have a nice day.” He motions her to the door, and she leaves without delay.

She starts to reflect as she leaves the main mansion. So not only they weren’t angry with her per se, they found her relevant and “noble” enough to place her as a fiancée not just for a Kure, but one of the most relevant men in the family… She blushed, smiling. This would surely be too good to be true if the guy in question weren't a complete nasty, irritant... and that if she irritated him too much he could plead insanity and negligence on their part if they tried him for murdering his fiancée...

She shivered all over at the thought of it. Focus, Ayami... you're not on death row if you don't make it, but for you to be free and be able to save everyone in your family, you have this best chance... just conquer this guy somehow...

… Just it...

The problem… is that this was the hardest part.

Next Chapter Here

[spider-yang]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/36938860/chapters/92158918

“While attempting to make a team to take down The Lizard's multiversal campaign, Peter and a now reformed Harry must team up to take down a serial killer determined to bring the convicts to their version of justice.“

Current Word Count: 841

Characters: TASM!Peter, TASM!Harry, Eddie Brock.

-----------

“There was an idea, to bring together a group of…” Peter shook his head, uttering a soft “tch”. The land around them was barren, only with rocks and cacti.

“I don’t know, I feel it’s a half-decent idea if only rushed.” The truck slowly shuffled around, neither Peter nor Harry caring about the half-eaten burger falling on the ground.

“Look, these are the only people who we can pick up, and I mean, look at them.” Harry cracked open the file, the dark and slightly macabre faces of the mugshots staring back at him.

Michael M Morbius: charged with four counts of first degree murder, 10 of second degree, and 38 of evading house arrest.

Sergei Kravenoff: 250 counts of poaching, three counts of second degree murder.

Adrian Toomes: four counts of traffiking weapons, three counts of entering government airspace, two counts of attempted murder, and one count of terrorism.

Well, except for one. The black blob of San Fran .

“My father did hire ex-convicts occasionally.” Silence spread for a minute before Peter spoke back.

“Non-violent offenders. Those are the ones he hired, and they pretty much had to have a Ph.D. if they wanted to get anywhere outside of syringe cleaning.”

“Fair.” The boys aimed their eyes up, spotting their target in the diner, complete with the hoodie he seemingly always seemed to be in.

… :)

“I’m sorry, I’m not joining your stupid little LARPing group.” Eddie looked up from the table, staring into the eyes of the duo. Harry let out a sigh he didn’t know he was holding, walking off. Peter growled, slamming his fist down.

“Listen, this may not be my jurisdiction, but I don’t think anyone would care if I webbed you up on this sign,” Peter made a hand motion towards the giant donut displayed out front. “And allowed the government to arrest you. Oh and your little ink buddy uh thing.” Eddie’s eyes widened, pushing himself away from the booth.

“How’d you know?” Peter gave off a small smirk, sipping on his coffee.

“Well, you’re a journalist, are you not? Check the news.” Peter tossed his phone over, leaving Eddie to catch it. He scrolled and scrolled and scrolled, leaving his lips quivering.

“Oh, man.” His eyes widened even more, turning around and socking Harry directly on the nose.

“Ohhh fuck.” Harry cursed, blood slowly spilling out from his nose. Eddie kneeled down, grabbing Harry’s hand and bringing him back up.

“What the fu…ow…”

“BOYS!” The trio turned their heads towards the waitress, who had her hands on her hips. “Would you mind telling me what happened here?” A moment of silence spread before a chorus of carnage began.

“He fuckin accused me of-”

“-socked me in the nose for no reason-”

“I mean c’mon man, you got an opportunity to save the world-”

“You are not saving jack shit-”

“And blood starting coming out and-”

“ALRIGHT I GET IT!” The waitress walked back, before coming out with a coffee cup. “Aedie, you already paid for this thing, get-. Actually, no all of you get out.” The waitress pointed towards the door, as the boys sighed.

“Look, lady. These conspiracy theorists came in, talking about how one of them is Spider-Man. And then-”

“You have no idea how to be a hero do yo-”

… :)

The door slammed shut, leaving the trio outside.

“Y’know, at least you guys say my name right, so,” Eddie put his hands up, taking a quick sip from his coffee cup. “What do you actually want with me?”

Peter sighed, waving his hands to illustrate his story. “Well, I’m sure you heard of the Curt Connors story, yeah?” Eddie gave a silent nod, not noticing his face slowly turning gray.

“So he…uh…escaped and is now kinda trying to invent…” Eddie wrapped his hands around his neck, coughing and falling to his knees.

“Dude, you ok?”

Harry nervously laughed, running up behind Eddie and slapping his back. “I’m pretty sure he’s not ok, Peter!” Blood and saliva began oozing from Eddie’s mouth. He tumbled to the ground, Peter scooping his body up.

“Guess all Spider-Men must be murderers, eh?” Eddie gave out a raspy breath before his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

“...Eddie?”

“Ohhhhh fuck.” Harry started laughing, clutching his head. “We are so goddamn screwed.”

“We can save him we can save him wecansavehim.” Peter sighed, before letting go. Sirens nearby indicated what the boys had already suspected. Peter turned his head, tears slowly streaming down his face.

“I can’t get framed, not like this. Not like Peter 1.” Peter stared up at the big donut, releasing a breath.

“Peter…”

“I’m sorry, I got a plan, I’ll come back.” He thwipped up to the sign, seeing Harry staring back at him. “I… I can’t have that happen to my Aunt May.”

“Your…? Peter what are you-” The sirens got closer, even being able to be visible from Peter’s point.

“I’ll be baaaaackkkk!” Peter swung off as the cars surrounded Harry, and took him in.

[krycss]

Actions Speak Louder Than Words | Jacob Seed x F!Deputy

Chapter 15

[Read on AO3]

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Haaaaa…It’s been what, almost a year?! I would like to apologize but also just give you guys a life update. So the reason uploads were so slow in the past was due to work. Well, with the whole pandemic happening, I suddenly found myself with a lot more free time. Unfortunately it had been so long since I wrote anything that I just didn’t know what to do. I could still see all the new kudos I was getting and they both inspired me to want to try again, but also made me terrified. What if it wasn’t as good as it was before? What if all the people who were following the story don’t care anymore? Well, I decided to just go for it and see what happens. This is shorter than my previous chapters but again, it’s been a damn long time since I wrote anything. I hope you guys enjoy and I’ll be trying to get back into the swing of things!

Cat’s right leg bounced rapidly as she sat in the rickety chair on the balcony outside of their room. Her hands were absent-mindedly rubbing across her stomach. It had been about a week since she took her first pregnancy test. Since then she’d taken four more, and all but one gave her the same result - positive. She still hadn’t told Jacob. She just never knew how to start that conversation or even what to say. She knew that Jacob knew something was up with her. He was far too good at reading people. Especially his wife. Still, patient man that he was, he was waiting for her to do it herself rather than force her to talk about it.

Today was going to be the day though, she had told herself as she watched him leave earlier that morning. Hence her nervous jitters as she waited for Jacob to return. He and Isaac, who had thankfully been keeping Cat’s secret this whole time, were out dealing with the new recruits for most of the day. She’d woken up at the same time as Jacob - the asscrack of dawn - and had been pacing around the compound for most of the day until about two hours ago when she finally returned to their room. Jacob was due back any moment now.

Or any second, it would seem, as Cat looked down from the balcony and saw Jacob heading towards the building. As if he could feel her gaze on him, Jacob looked up at her and gave a quick nod. Cat forced a smile back at him as she sat back down. Then stood back up. Maybe she could wait inside? It’s too stuffy in there though, she thought. She paced across the balcony instead.  

“Gonna wear a hole in the damn floor at this rate, doll.”

Cat let out a pitiful squeak when she heard Jacob’s voice right behind her. She turned around, hand over her heart, and gave her best glare to the man. He was currently leaning against the doorframe, a smirk pulling at his lips.

“How are you so quiet?” Cat lightly pushed his shoulder as she walked past him into the room.

Jacob chuckled. “How are you still surprised at that?”

Cat hummed. She was still pacing, but it was certainly slower. Jacob’s presence, despite the situation, calmed her immensely. Jacob quietly moved to stand behind her, letting her watch as he put his hands on her shoulders so as not to startle her again. Cat smiled at his gesture, placing a hand of her own over one of his.

Now or never, she thought.

“I know that you know something is up.” She said lowly.

Jacob hummed.

“And I appreciate you letting me get to it on my own time.” She squeezed his hand. “I just…didn’t know how to talk about it.”

“You know you can tell me anything. Partners, right?” Jacob kissed her shoulder. His beard tickling her neck.

“Partners.” Cat took a deep breath and, keeping her hand latched onto his, turned around to look up at him. “I, um - we -. Well, the thing is - I’m pregnant.” She mumbled the last word.

Silence.

“What?” Jacob’s voice was low, genuine confusion behind the timber.

Cat’s shaking hands were grasping Jacob’s still ones with everything she had, just to ground herself.

“I’m pregnant.” She said louder.

She watched the gears turn in the red-head’s brain as his eyes flicked between her own and her stomach, looking for any sign that he misheard. His eyes eventually settled on her stomach, staring as if trying to figure out a puzzle. At two months her bump was barely there, but Jacob knew her body inside and out. If Cat wasn’t currently panicking, she might have laughed at how big his eyes got when it all finally clicked in his head.

“You…” He trailed off.

Cat found herself chewing her bottom lip. Jacob was her rock. To see him clearly unnerved was certainly not helping her any. She forced herself, as much as she could, not to let it get to her. She had her time to deal with the information, he needed time too. His hands, which were once still as a statue, were slowly beginning to shake.

“You’re pregnant.” It was said more towards himself than it was at her.

“Yes.” Cat whispered.

Jacob nodded slowly. Cat rubbed her thumbs across his scarred knuckles.

“You’re having a baby.” Jacob breathed out a large lungful of air. “My baby?”

Cat laughed lightly as she felt the pinpricks of tears behind her eyes.

“Yes, your baby, Jacob. You’re going to be a daddy.”

It was as if those were the magic words that snapped Jacob to reality. His knees almost buckled out from under him but Cat was quick enough to pull him close to the edge of the bed before he collapsed back onto it. Elbows on his knees, he held his head in his hands. Cat could see Jacob’s shoulders shake slightly. She lowered herself to her knees, placing herself between Jacob’s. She reached up to gently pry his hands away from his face.

She never once thought she would ever see her husband cry. Tears and Jacob Seed just didn’t go hand-in-hand. Yet here she was, looking up at her husband’s glistening eyes as they refused to look back at her. His eyes stayed focused on the ground. She could only imagine how he must be feeling right now. Trying his hardest not to seem weak in front of his wife but also processing this life-changing news.

“Happy or sad tears?” Cat asked gently, running her hands up and down his thighs.

Jacob shook his head.

“It’s just me here. You don’t have to hide your feelings in front of me, Jacob. It’s okay.”

“‘m sorry.” He mumbled.

“For what?”

Jacob slowly dragged himself down to the floor, pulling Cat into his lap. He buried his face in her neck.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen.” He whispered. “I - we hadn’t planned for this.”

“No, we didn’t.” Cat pressed her face into his chest. “But it did happen.”

“Yeah.”

The two sat there for what felt like an eternity. Both taking the time to process this new situation they found themselves in. Each taking comfort in the other’s presence. Neither moved from the floor, even as the sun went down and darkness engulfed the outside world. Eventually Jacob broke the silence.

“How far along are you?” He asked quietly, his hand had been lightly rubbing Cat’s belly.

“I think two months? Don’t know exactly when it took, had to do some janky mental math.”

Jacob let out a sad chuckle. “We weren’t exactly careful, despite all our talk of this not being the right time for kids.”

“Hey, it was our honeymoon, alright? Who knew God had a sick sense of humor.”

Jacob snorted. “That’s all He seems to have.”

There was a beat of silence before Cat whispered into her husband’s chest.

“I’m scared.”

Jacob hugged her tighter. “Me too. But we got each other, yeah? We’ll get through this. And we got the rest of the family to help.”

Jacob sucked in a sharp breath, causing Cat to lean back to check on him.

“Joseph is going to lose it when he finds out.” Jacob already looked exhausted at the thought of telling his siblings.

Cat giggled. “Oh definitely. But I think John will have the best reaction.”

And Cat was right. If John gaping like a fish for about five minutes straight while she and Jacob explained the situation to their family the following weekend was anything to go by. They had decided to share the news during family dinner after Joseph’s service that Sunday.

“This is wonderful news!” Faith wrapped her arms around Cat’s shoulders, spinning her in circles across the living room in John’s cabin.

Joseph was off speaking to Jacob in the kitchen but Cat could see that the conversation was at least going in a positive direction based on Jacob’s small smile.

Cat and Faith turned to look at poor John. John had fallen onto his couch in a rather dramatic fashion. His waist-coat had been unbuttoned and he was currently staring very hard at his coffee table. Cat approached John, sitting next to him on the couch and waving her hand in front of his face.

“John? Y-you okay?”

John hummed. “Ohhh I’m fine. Fine. Yes. Just fine.”

“Uh-huh.” Cat chuckled to herself.

John suddenly jumped up, startling Cat into releasing a small yelp.

“We’re going to have to baby-proof all of the bunkers.” John’s eyes widened as he envisioned the task, pacing about his living room.

“You let me worry about that, little brother.” Jacob came up behind them, placing his hands onto Cat’s shoulders.

“This will certainly require some planning though, Jacob.” Joseph’s voice lilted from his place in the kitchen. “While there are children already in our flock, there’s never been one amongst our own. Our child will require the utmost care and protection to ensure it joins us in the Collapse.”

Cat felt Jacob’s fingers tighten their hold on her shoulders at Joseph’s use of “our child.”. It would appear Jacob’s fatherly instincts were already kicking in. Cat placed a hand over top one of his, calming him. She leaned her head back, staring up at him.

“Easy, papa wolf.” She whispered.

Jacob just grunted, easing his grip.

“I th-think it might be best to keep it a secret for now. Until it’s h-harder to hide.” Cat said, looking around the cabin at her family.

She and Jacob had discussed it briefly. She didn’t need a bigger target painted on her back, and the Resistance didn’t need something they could blackmail Jacob with.

After a while, it was time for the group to depart. The family offered their congratulations once more before Cat and Jacob started their drive back to the Whitetails.

“Well, that certainly went well.” Jacob sighed.

“Oh definitely. What were you and Joseph talking about?”

“He congratulated me, of course. And then went about how God was finally repaying me for all of my work for Eden’s Gate.” Jacob scoffed a little.

“Well, whatever the reason, you’re going to make a great father.” Cat placed a hand on Jacob’s arm.

“I hope so.” Jacob smiled sadly to himself as they continued the drive back home.

It had only been about one month when a radio call came in that would rock Eden’s Gate.

At three months, Cat’s stomach was just starting to show, but was still easy enough to hide. She’d started wearing jackets tied around her waist or oversized shirts just to keep suspicion off of her just in case. Jacob, if it was even possible, had become even more protective. He officially took her off of her job of helping with the Wolf Beacons - citing the dangers involved from both wolves and the Resistance. Cat agreed, but not without getting Jacob to give her something else to do. She wasn’t about to just sit around the Center as an invalid. Cat was now given the job of helping Jacob with his conditioning of new recruits. Watching others undergo the music box treatment from an outside perspective was certainly interesting. As she stood where Staci once did she couldn’t help but wonder how he felt when he was a part of these sessions. Still, it was easy work - as long as she shut off her brain. It was easy to ignore everything now that she wasn’t going out around the County fighting and exploring. It was easy to ignore the cult around her. But standing here, lit by the flashes of slides and Jacob’s speeches, it was harder to ignore. She was a part of this now. Whether or not she believed in any of the ideas or beliefs of Eden’s Gate didn’t matter. She was now an active participant.

It was during one of these sessions that Isaac came rushing into the room, interrupting Jacob to whisper something into his ear. Cat was on the other side of the room but from what she could gather from Jacob’s facial expression, it was bad news.

Isaac left the room after a word from Jacob. Cat walked over to Jacob as he clenched his jaw.

“What is it?” Cat whispered.

Jacob stared across the three recruits in front of them. They were currently going through their trials, twitching and straining against their restraints.

“Later.” Jacob growled.

Cat nodded, briefly touching Jacob’s chest as he went about finishing his job.

As soon as they were finished, Jacob stormed out of the room. Cat followed quickly behind, stopping a soldier in the hall and ordering them to release the new recruits and take them to their cages. Cat had to run to catch up with Jacob who was heading to the planning room.

“Jacob! Slow down!” Cat huffed. Her energy wasn’t as great as it used to be.

As if snapped out of his mind, Jacob quickly turned and looked back at his wife. He walked back to her, helping her catch her breath.

“Sorry.” He mumbled.

“It’s fine, just tell me what’s going on before we get there.”

“Your friend Hudson. She’s taken over your job, you know?” Cat nodded. After their wedding, they had found out Hudson basically took over Cat’s role of trying to reclaim the county for Fall’s End. “Well, today she decided to take a rather large fucking step. She got into an air battle with John apparently. Shot his plane down.”

Cat gasp, grabbing Jacob’s hand. She hadn’t realized until then that Jacob was shaking. “Is he okay?”

“Some of his men managed to find him before Hudson could but he’s in bad shape. They took him to Faith’s bunker.”

“And what are you thinking right now?” Cat stopped him before the planning room doors.

“I’m thinking of going into her base and killing everyone inside.” Jacob slammed his hand onto the wall, startling Cat.

“Jacob!” Cat grabbed his free arm.

Jacob seemed to catch what had happened and brought his hand down from the wall and to her side, apologizing.

“What you need to do right now is go to your brother. Don’t you think? You’ll have time to react later. Right now, your family needs you.”

“You’re right.” Jacob took in a deep breath, pulling Cat into his arms. “You’re right. Let’s go.”

Cat nodded up at the man as they headed off to the vehicles. Jacob had called up Isaac to let him know their plans and to keep the men on stand-by.

The drive to Faith’s compound was quiet. Mostly as Jacob was stuck in head worrying about his baby brother, but also on the look-out for resistance members or any of the Fall’s End people. He didn’t want to bring Cat out here in her state, but she wasn’t about to be left behind. Jacob needed her, even if he wouldn’t admit it. And after all the things John had done for her, she wasn’t about to just not go see him.

Thankfully they made it safely. Only having to avoid some wildlife that was blissed out and crossing the road at random intervals. Jacob was already opened the door to the truck before he even turned the thing off. Cat was busy trying to get out of the truck herself when to her surprise Jacob was already there with a hand to help her down.

“Thank you.” She smiled up at him.

“I might be a bit worried at the moment, but I didn’t forget about you two.” He glanced down at her stomach.

Cat laughed lightly as they walked into the bunker. They could see Joseph’s vehicle was already here as well.

John had been taken to one of the medical rooms, away from the angels and other blissed soldiers of Faith’s army. When they arrived, they found Joseph and Faith standing in the hallway in prayer.

“Joseph.” Jacob called out.

Joseph’s head popped up, relief painting his face. “Jacob, I’m so glad you made it. You too, Catherine.”

Cat smiled at him and went over to Faith, holding the girl. She was currently picking at her arms and Cat wanted nothing more than to calm her down.

“How is he?” Jacob asked.

“At the moment he’s stable. He has some broken ribs and one of his ankles is broken as well. But overall, despite the situation he’s in good shape. According to his men he managed to parachute his way down rather than crash in the plane itself. Still, the landing was a bit harsh. The doctors are currently working on his ankle and getting him comfortable.”

Jacob deflated, leaning against the wall. “Thank God.�� He whispered.

“Indeed. God was definitely watching over our family today it seems.” Joseph placed a hand on his shoulder.

The four of them sat in the empty hallway, waiting for the doctors to tell them they could go inside. Still, Cat could see that Jacob was itching to get out there and get revenge. She only hoped it wouldn’t make their situation worse.

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Three Hundred Sixty-Four: What You See ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina, vulgarity, death, smoking ] [ Verse: Oil and Blood ] [ AO3 Link ]

Appearances can be deceiving.

For instance...Hinata had a teacher back in middle school who, for all intents and purposes, seemed a nice enough man. An active part of the community, well-liked by his students, and a staple part of the school in which he taught. He was lenient with those who needed it, and tough on those who he knew could do better.

But during her last year, when she was no longer in his class, a rather startling discovery was made.

On the run from another province, he was accused of murdering several middle school girls at his previous school. But with the help of underground cosmetic mods, he had his face changed enough to escape notice, starting a new life on the other side of the country where he could once again begin stalking students.

Thankfully he never had the chance - he was caught when a substitute for another teacher managed to recognize him despite the mods. He was arrested, and later imprisoned for his crimes.

From then on, Hinata knew better than to trust what face people put forward. What you see isn’t always true.

Which is what makes her newest...friend? so intriguing.

Since stumbling upon the half-dead man in an alleyway, Hinata has been unable to escape one Uchiha Sasuke: a member of the infamous yakuza currently overseen by his father. Having been beaten and stripped of his (rather expensive) mods, it was Hinata who, on an insomnia walk, hefted him from the refuse and took him to a doctor she knew.

And that was only the beginning of a bond that saw her kidnapped, nearly involved in a gunfight, and then marked as a target by the Uchiha group’s biggest rivals: the Senju.

Since then, it’s been Sasuke’s self-imposed mission to keep the woman safe as repayment for her kindness, and also for his failing to protect her when he first attempted to fulfill his debt to her.

Which means that outside work and her time spent at home...Hinata has been stuck with a rather interesting bodyguard.

Sasuke doesn’t hide what he is. Be it his mods, his tattoos, his smoking or his sometimes coarse language, he doesn’t shy from his title of gangster. He knows that what his family does is unlawful. Dangerous and harmful, even. But he does have at least one code of conduct: repay his debts.

Having someone like him in the presence of someone like Hinata makes a very strange pair indeed.

You see, Hinata’s father runs the largest Japan-based medical mod company. She was once heiress...before daring to call out his hypocrisy. She now lives in a tiny apartment in a rather...questionable part of town. Which is how she found Sasuke. And she works for a mod insurance claim company. Which, admittedly, she hates. But she does do her part of under-the-table dealing to help those who truly need it find underground care.

Hence her knowing the good doctor.

But it goes without saying that the pair of them going, well...anywhere together tends to draw some very confused gazes. After all, most wonder what on earth such a sweet looking young woman could ever be doing running around with someone like him.

Sure, Hinata hasn’t ever hurt anyone - in fact she herself has been the victim of violence more than once. But she does technically break the law rather often, given her redirection of insurance claims to illegal operations that go beneath the government radar. Sure, she does so for morally-just reasons...but it’s still illegal.

She wonders what people would think if they knew: that such a sweet, trustworthy, likeable face has been lying to her employer and her government for years now, costing them mountains of money with every customer or patient she reroutes into the less-than-legal channels.

Sure, it’s nothing compared to Sasuke’s repsheet, but...still, worse than most would assume just looking at her.

And the same, she feels, goes for Sasuke.

During their time together, she’s observed him as carefully as she can, not wanting to be caught snooping. It’s something she’s always been rather good at. Her eyes are pale enough that most people don’t notice them slid to their corners to watch them. Sasuke, so often, just seems so...normal. He drinks coffee with heavy cream (but no sugar - he doesn’t like bitter, but nor can he stand sweet). He’s taken to feeding the stray cats around her apartment building. She saw him completely interrupt traffic to help an elderly neighbor of hers cross to the proper street from her window on his way to see her once.

Sure, he might do bad things...but he isn’t a bad person.

After all, he’s doing what he’s doing for her out of a sense of honor. He could just flip her the bird and leave her to defend herself from the Senju, helpless. Maybe it’s wholly for himself, for upholding his code of ethics...but it doesn’t feel that shallow.

He doesn’t just stand around looking tough. He talks to her, argues with her, and even jokes with her...though his humor is bone dry. There’s been many a moment when she’s forgotten why he’s around. They bicker and banter like...friends.

...she’s almost forgotten what it’s like to have friends. High school was rather lonely, and her shuffle right into a dead-end job and a micro apartment didn’t really lend itself to making them. Sure, she and the doctor get on fairly well, but...they’ve only ever seen one another for business. Technically that’s the reason Sasuke’s around, but...it just feels...different.

...so maybe she’s not as annoyed by his playing knight as she was when it all first started.

“Now what are you doing?”

“Hm?”

Chin in a hand, Sasuke juts it slightly toward her. “You’ve been staring at your HUD for like fifteen minutes. I can’t see it, but I can tell.”

At his accusation, Hinata goes a light pink. “...uh…”

“Watching porn in public?”

“W-w-what?! No!” Her voice jumps several octaves, drawing the glances of other patrons. They’re currently seated in an outdoor section at the front of a cafe having coffee. Sasuke insisted he needed to refuel, and she never minds a cup herself.

He gives a cheeky, lazy grin, posture still lax. “Then what are you doing?”

“I’m...playing a game.”

“Oh? A game that involves staring at your HUD?”

“It’s...not the most interactive, sure. It’s more of a daily click sort of...t-thing.”

“Ah, gotcha. So you’re not really a gamer girl.”

At that, her lips purse in a pout. “Hey, I play games at home. This is just more...maintenance.”

“Sounds exciting.”

“It’s...cute. You collect cats.”

Immediately, something lightens in his expression, and his posture becomes a bit more attentive. “...oh yeah?”

She doesn’t miss all that, but suppresses a smile, not wanting to drive him off the subject. “Mhm. It’s an older game, Neko Atsume. People used to play it on their phones.”

Sasuke hums in acknowledgement...and something tells her he’s already on his HUD looking it up. She knows already how fond he is of cats. See the above mentioned strays he’s pseudo-adopted. “Sounds...boring, but cats are all right, I guess.”

“Like I said, it’s mostly a daily click sort of thing. You check to see what cats are around, w-what they’ve left you, if they took treats…”

His eyes flicker, and though she can’t see his HUD herself, she already knows what he’s looking at. “...huh.”

“Want to play?”

“I might. If I get bored enough.”

She just gently rolls her eyes.

...a week later, he approaches her with a scowl, and she actually braces herself for some kind of argument.

“What have you done?”

“I...w-what?”

“That stupid...cat game!”

She blinks.

“The whole damn syndicate is playing it now! I can’t stop checking it! We almost missed a raid because the wrong people got distracted!”

Before Hinata can stop it, a snort escapes her, both hands coming to cover her nose and mouth. Eyes go wide. “I...I’m sorry…?”

“I can’t believe this…”

“Sasuke-san, I...I didn’t mean to -?”

“I know,” he snaps, cutting her off...which she’s gotten used to. “...don’t introduce me to any more games. Got it?”

“O...okay.”

“Wasting all my goddamn time,” he mutters, lighting a cigarette and taking a frustrated drag. He gives her a halfhearted glare when she can no longer suppress her giggles. “If the Uchiha Yakuza falls it’s all gonna be your fault, I hope you know that. You and your damn cats.”

“I’m sorryyy!”

“No you’re not!”

“Yes I am!”

“Then why’re you laughing?”

She can’t reply, too caught up in her amusement.

To anyone looking on, they’d see a scowling, tattooed, heavily-modded man they’d immediately peg as a bad guy.

But Hinata knows better.

                                                             .oOo.

     More of the cyberpunk AU! Not really anything plot-drive this time: more introspection about appearance, which DOES play a fairly big role in both their characters, and their world at large. With the ability to modify your looks, you can really put any face forward - literally. While neither of them have any real appearance mods (though Sasuke does have his eye mods), they still have traits that don't match their exterior!      ...I'd...say more but it's very late. And ohhh man...just one more day to go. I hope y'all are ready for me to get super sappy on you tomorrow xD But for now, it's bedtime. Thanks for reading~

[jamlally]

Ohana

This was written for the 25 days of Christmas Challenge that is hosted by  @panicfob .  The Day 20 Challenge prompt was Family dinner

Warnings: Stupidity and Fluff

Pairing: None  - it’s just some silliness with some of the Avengers team.

Summary: Family means different things to different people. Family grow and change but despite everything families share.  This one is more of a Drabble than a full one shot

The noise around the table was at its usual low din and everyone seemed to be having a good time.  Belle watched as dishes were passed around and laughter filled the air.  This was perhaps what she enjoyed the most about having these new people in her life, the simple way that they would come together in what ever configuration was there and made things feel good.  They weren’t all best buddies, and they had their disagreements but at the end of the day they came back together.

“Get the fuck out of here”. Clint’s voice rose over the others as he disagreed about something with Same

“Ohhh don’t worry I got this Cap ‘LANGUAGE”” Tony called out getting a laugh from Natasha and the middle finger from Steve.  Belle just shook her head, this chaos somehow made her feel more at home and not uncomfortable. This kind of chaos she was learning, was a good thing. It didn’t make her heart pound with anxiety, it made her feel welcome. It had taken a while for the feeling to sit well with her.  Feeling welcome wasn’t anything she had ever really experienced before she joined this group.  Tolerated sure, but welcome was a while new ball game.  For a  long time she hadn’t felt worthy .  She hadn’t done even half of what these people had. She hadn’t lost and sacrificed what they had, why, when all of that was taken into account would they welcome her?  

One night when she was feeling particularly low she had taken herself off to the gym to run on the treadmill. It wasn’t something she enjoyed by any means, usually preferring to be outside to exercise, but it was a way that she felt she could almost punish herself for taking something that wasn’t hers. 

She was fairly sure it was sweat and not tears that were running down her face when Natasha had walked in.  The other woman wasn’t dressed to workout, and when she headed straight for Belle, she knew that for some reason she was the Widows target.  Pulling out her earphones she had slowed her pace and waited for the other woman to speak

“Tony was looking for you.  I told him I would have a look around before he set FRIDAY on the job.  You’ve seemed on edge all day”

Belle had kept her eyes forward only taking quick glances at the red head “Thanks for the heads up.  I’ll give him a shout when I’m done here”. Secretly she hoped that her short response would have Nat leaving, luck was not on her side 

“How about this is what happens. You can keep running.  I’ll send a message to Tony and when you’re done we can have a quick chat

It was clear from her tone that it wasn’t a suggestion but in fact what would be happening. That being the case Belle saw no point in answering and instead upped the pace and set about completing another 3 miles.

Natasha had just sat and paid what ever it was she was reading on her phone, not looking up until she heard the treadmill start to slow.  Then she pick dup a bottle of water, tested it open and waited for Belle to come over to the bench she was sitting on 

Belle had been grateful for the water as she sat and rubbed over her head and face with the towel waiting to see just what was on the Widows mind

“I’m not going to beat around the bush, if for no other reason that I’m fairly sure Tony will show up and even more sure you don't want him involved in this conversation.  The thing is I’ve been watching you Belle Porter and I like what I see but I also understand a little of what you’re feeling I think.  You’re family didn’t treat you well, they didn’t make sure you had the experiences that children and young adults need to be comfortable around others.  They didn’t treat you with love and affection.  Now you’re drowning.  All of us, we’re puling you into water that you don't know how to navigate, and it’s scary as hell.  I know, I felt the same thing,  There is a bit of you that says why me?  Why are these people looking out for me?  Why do they care,  they’re too good.  In the past, well it’s safe to say there were a lot of black marks against me because of it yet these people, they welcomed me and gave me a home,  You’re right to think that they are good, but don’t ever believe they are perfect.  We all have our flaws, issues and mistakes, but being in this group makes us better. Whether you believe it or not you deserve to be here, you deserve our love and even when it makes you feel like running and screaming we will understand, because each of us have been there.  Just think on it Belle ok?”�� Natasha had stood squeezing her shoulder “Now unless you want Tony seeing you like this I would suggest a shower and then you go find him”.

Belle had ended up taking her advise and when Tony asked what was wrong, she had just told him she had been feeling stressed but that everything was fine.  Being more perceptive than she gave him credit for Tony had kissed her head and told her that he was there for her, good bit and not so good bits included.

Now Belle found herself looking around the table and smiling. She knew that she had lost the last of her biological family by choosing to stay here and follow her dreams, and while a small part of her would always regret that, she was building a new family here. 

“Biscuits”

Belle blinked snapping her attention back to Wanda who sat opposite her “I’m sorry Wanda - I was miles away, what were you saying”

Wanda gave her a soft smile of her own “I was asking if you would like some biscuits”. 

“OH um, you know I think I’ve got enough for now thank you though”

“The food is amazing. I hope Tony kept the number for these caterers”

Belle nodded her agreement “Even if he didn’t I know that FRIDAY has a log of all the planners and caterers that he’s used.  The food is spectacular.  I love that it’s not super fancy though”

Wanda inclined her head “It’s kind of homey.  It fills your stomach and your heart if you know what I mean”

“Yeah I get what you’re saying, though I figure that we will all be passed out in an hour when were full to the brim”

Wanda gave a small chuckle “You are probably right, but there are worse ways to end an evening you know”.

Belle scooped up another forkful of the juice chicken and gravy and took a moment to just enjoy the rich flavors as she chewed

“You know I do my best to not, intrude, on other thoughts but I couldn’t help but pick up the flavor of your thoughts. I won’t tell anyone but I need you to know that if you ever want to talk to anyone I’m here and I understand a bit of what you are going through.”

Belle made eye contact and just tilted her head slightly, her mouth still full to indicate that she was listening

“I had a brother you know, Pietro.  He made a choice to help someone and it cost him his life.  I can’t begrudge him his choice but it can be lonely and Christmas, even more so.  It makes the mind wonder you know”

Belle gave Wanda a soft smile.  She had heard the name but hadn’t made the connection that he was related to Wanda

“I’m sorry Wanda. That must be so hard for you.  Do you do anything special to remember him?”

“Oh I put an extra ornament on the tree, it’s the Peregrine falcon. Did you know that they are the fastest animal on earth, they are free and masters of the air.  My brother had the gift of speed and even though he is  gone from here he is free now and nothing will limit where he can go”.

Belle could see that Wanda seemed to be fully at peace with what she was saying “I know it is somewhat different, but if you need to talk, then you know that I have a good ear, yea?”

Belle reached out and wrapped her hand around Wanda’s “Thank you, for telling me about him, and about your offer.  I don’t regret my decisions, but sometimes it is hard.  If you ever want to talk more about your brother then I am always available to talk and share coffee, or cocoa”

“And what pray tell, are you wonderful ladies whispering about at this end of the table?” Tony’s arm came to rest over the back of Belle’s chair. Wanda dipped her head and Belle turned her focus to her lover.  

“Now that would be telling.  We covered a lot of ground, from the wonderful caterers to just who would look better dressed as Santa” 

Tony wiggled his eyebrows and gave her a grin “Well we all know what you answered to that don’t we”

Belle nodded “Of course we do baby - Clint would make the best Father Christmas” 

Tony snorted and pressed a kiss into Belle’s temple taking a moment to breath in her scent “You tell yourself that baby”

He turned his attention back to the conversation going on further up the table giving them back the semblance of privacy

Wanda waited until he was involved in the conversation before leaning in a bit closer under the guise of passing Belle some corn “He worries about you - he wants you to be happy more than just about anything “

Reaching for the corn Belle glanced over at Tony who had his head thrown back in laughter his hand banging on the table her eyes softening “He is a big part of the reason that I can be as happy as I am.  He’s a good man Wanda”

“In a lot of ways if the media is to be believed” 

Belle laughed a little harder “I don’t kiss and tell” she leaned in again “but let’s just say the media don’t have a full appreciation of what they are talking about”

Wanda blushed and coughed a little drawing the attention of the others.  Wanda waved them off with a wave of her hand and the table settled back into conversations that ebbed and flowed.

Bucky had served the figgy pudding, along side the catered deserts and it went down well, with a lot of joking about who received each of the tokens.  Steve had of course been the first to dig in and between Bucky and Belle the others were talked into trying a piece.  Natasha and Bruce had been happen enough to receive the thimble and button.  Tony had acted annoyed when he hadn’t received the silver coin but seemed secretly pleased to receive the wishbone.  Steve was the King and Belle received the anchor and Tony, Clint and Sam had taken delight in ribbing Steve.  When Bucky had explained the anchor Tony had nodded to his one time enemy and kissed Belle on the cheek making a promise that they both understood. They would make sure that this promise came true.  He had seen Wanda and Belle in discussion and he knew if he asked Belle would tell him her side later.  She wouldn’t betray Wanda but when it came to herself she would be open.  This was his family and they would look out for each other no matter what.

[franklyshipping]

Let Us Give You A Hand ~ A Markiplier and Jacksepticeye Ego Fanfic

This is a tale of two cheeky boys getting their comeuppance! LEEET'S DO IT!

TAGGING: @robbie-lee-zombie @googlee-oliver and @thehostofleetrature

It had been.....a day of mayhem. Cheeky, playful, strategized, giddy, adorable mayhem. The makers of the mischief this time being Robbie the zombie, and the sweet sunflower android Oliver. Recently they'd had a realisation that they had more in common that you may think....an appreciation for the pure things in the world, a happy innocence, a subconscious ability to bring joy to those they loved....and the ability to detach limbs in a non-grotesque, comedic manner. After they both came to this realisation in a moment of squealing joy, they hatched a plan to give some of their loved ones a chance to....smile....whether they wanted to or not. Oliver would plan the strategy efficiently with his hard-drive mind, Robbie would scope out the area by taking out an eye and letting it roll about silently. They were the perfect combination for seeking their targets....and then taking them out.

Their targets would often be carrying out a task and having a minor difficulty with it, and said person would comment to themselves on how they were having a hard time....and then Oliver and Robbie would both ''lend a hand''. At which point, each of them would detach their hands which would scurry forth and launch a brief tickle attack; then the hands would return to their owners who would promptly make their escape whilst cackling with unrestrained joy....whilst leaving one of their loved ones flustered and disorientated. Pretty ingenious and impressive in my opinion....but when you do something like that over and over again....a pattern shows. Targets get together. The targets decide that enough is enough....and a plan is hatched.

'I can't WAIT to get Hosty! He'll be SO surprised!'

Oliver giggled as he skipped down the corridor, hand in hand with his new best friend, a giggling, giddy zombie boy. Robbie was clinging to Oliver's hand with both of his excitedly, feeling so happy that he had such a kind and clever best friend to play with. Not only that, but Oliver would sometimes just....randomly compliment him, because that's what happens when you adore someone, the compliments just fly out.

'Yeah, yeah! Surprise Hosty!'

Oliver giggled as he looked to his friend.

'He'll probably get distracted from how cute you are!'

Robbie's eyes widened as they stopped outside the doors of the library, and the zombie boy whined with embarrassment as he softly head-butted Oli's shoulder.

'Nuuuhhh! Ou cute....'

Oliver giggled and ruffled Robbie's hair before scanning through the door excitedly. They'd been informed by Dr Schneeplestein in passing that the Host needed a hand with something, and they'd immediately jumped on the opportunity to get someone else....the fact that Dr Schneeplestein had been targeted by them earlier that day didn't make them suspicious at all. They were just too excited to notice. Oliver grinned.

'Okay....okay he's sat at his desk. As soon as he perceives us and faces us, that's our chance. Ready?'

Oliver's eyes glinted as he wiggled five of his fingers at Robbie, to which Robbie responded by wiggling five of his back happily.

'Ye!'

Robbie felt all jittery and giddy inside, if you'd felt a pulse point he would have felt nearly alive. As for Oliver, his chest core and eyes were shining bright as his circuits filled with energy, which was his adrenaline. They opened the doors....and stepped inside. They closed them and walked forward together, barely containing their grins as they saw the Host's shadowy figure standing from his chair.....he was turning to face them. Oliver and Robbie were ready, so ready....but the Host didn't face them. He spoke first, or rather.....narrated.

''Oliver and Robbie found themselves being ambushed by strong, ghostly hands. They were held in the air by their wrists, ankles, and by the backs of their t-shirts. Numerous other ghostly hands surrounded them, hovering and twitching....warningly.''

The air was filled with a series of surprised squeals and yelps as the Host's words came into reality, and by the time the Host had reached them, Oliver and Robbie were restrained just as the Host had described. They were both struggling and whimpering in their own ways, but Oliver managed to find the nerve to speak, even as he gulped.

'H-H-Host wh-what the hell?!'

Robbie let out a shaky whine as he watched the Host chuckle and sneer at them both with his arms folded at his chest.

'Did the pair of you seriously think that you would not have to endure consequences for your mischievous actions? Bim Trimmer, Dr Henrik Von Schneeplestein, Silver Shepherd, Jackie-Boy Man, and Jameson Jackson have told the Host everything. Everything.'

Oliver and Robbie both gulped and shared a nervous glance, struggling more against the ghostly hands as they realised what was coming for them. Honestly, they hadn't given a second thought to retribution...they'd figured they would be able to pout and say they were just having fun, and then they'd be let off....but they now understood that cuteness could only get them so far.

'H-Hosty....w-w-we s-sorr.....s-so-oorree....'

Robbie stuttered as his cheeks flushed a light lilac....but the Host only smirked.

'Ohhh the Host doesn't think you are, but fear not, the Host here to ensure that your apologies to each of our friends are well meant and from the heart. The Host thinks that the best way to do that is to.....go over exactly what you did to them, yes?'

Oliver and Robbie let out fearful squeaks when the hands around them suddenly became much more animated, all the while the Host calmly clasped his hands behind his back and started to slowly pace around them. His smile was subtle, but it had a truly formidable edge of mischief to it. Basically, the Host's two victims were screwed.

'N-Nonono H-H-Host w-wait let's discuss-EEEEE! Nohoho nohohoho nahahat thehehere!'

Oliver was about to try and see if he could negotiate with their captor, but he was too late. The hands had gotten to them first. Four hands. Two for Oliver's armpits, and two for Robbie's. They scratched and scratched away lightly, but fast, making their victims squeal and giggle in the most adorably high pitched voices. The Host had begun.

'Ahhh yes, Bim Trimmer was the first. It was rather early in the morning and he was hanging up a newly repaired stage light, but it seemed to be proving rather difficult for him on his own....'

As Oliver's cheeks got warmer, the little zombie's squeals echoed around the room as he thrashed about, both trying to stop the tickling AND drown out the Host's voice.

'H-H-Hohohosty shuhush Hohohosty shuhuhuhuuuush!'

The Host certainly did NOT shush, and instead spoke louder so that they would be able to hear him nice and clearly over their giddy mirth. His smile was less subtle now.

'Bim called out, hoping there would be someone nearby who would be able to lend a hand....but instead he received four. Two held his arms up whilst the other two scratched his poor hollows until he was a giggling, squealing mess. The poor man had to have a gallon of tea to soothe himself!'

The Host was almost actually starting to SOUND like Bim with how dramatic he was being with his pacing and arm gestures, as if he was reciting some great speech of Marlowe's to an audience garlanded in finery. In a way though, Robbie and Oliver had their own finery in the form of their wide smiles and bright blushes; they were the most precious to behold, especially when trying to remain strong.

'Y-Yohohou ahare ehehexahaggerating!'

Oliver defiantly called out, meanwhile Robbie was in the midst of trying to land little bites on the scratching fingers in his armpits as he giggled frantically. The Host had finished another circuit of pacing and now stood before his two victims, and he threw a smirk to Oliver as he purred.

'Why, the Host would never!'

The Host ended with a chuckle, before waving one of his hands to relinquish the armpit attack. He clasped his hands at the small of his back, sighing out through his nose happily as Oliver and Robbie giggled residually. They exchanged flustered glances when the Host started pacing around them once more, musing.

'Now who was next....?'

The Host trailed off playfully....before receiving an unexpected, giggly reply.

'N-N-Nuhuhohone!'

The Host raised an eyebrow at the giddy little zombie before him in amusement. Robbie had his head bowed with bashfulness as he whined and nibbled his bottom lip, his lilac eyes watery with cute mirth. The Host grinned as he continued pacing, whispering in Robbie's ear softly as he circled by.

'Now, now, it's naughty to lie.....ohh yes, the Host recalls now....'

Oliver's and Robbie's eyes widened when they saw a hand approaching them each, and they squeaked and let out similar high-pitched tittering when they found their waistlines being traced.

'Ohohoho noho....'

Oliver whimpered and trembled as the soft fingertips slid under his t-shirt with ease and teased his soft skin, and only became more flustered when he saw the same happening to Robbie. Then the Host continued his story re-telling.

'The good doctor Schneeplestein has a difficult, packed line of work, so thus it is imperative that he gets a good burst of energy in the mornings before he gets to his clinic. For some reason however....his coffee was a little out of reach....'

Oliver shook his head and tried to crane his neck, endeavouring to gaze imploringly at the Host whilst Robbie shook his head and tried to sound insistent.

'N-Nahahat uhus nahat uhus!'

'R-Rohobbie!'

Oliver squeaked after he heard his friend trying to deny it....he didn't want to risk the Host punishing them even more for lying about their mischief. The Host meanwhile, only found it wonderfully endearing. He snickered, and as if in sync with the Host's mirth, the delicate fingers moved from their victim's waists to the bowels of their hips. This made both Oliver and Robbie jerk about....and shriek magnificently.

'Just as the doctor murmured that he could possibly use a hand to help him retrieve his caffeine....he found himself being attacked at his poor, delicate waist and hips. Needless to say, his laughter woke up everyone else this morning.'

The Host had to work much harder to make himself heard, but it just made the whole thing more fun. The Host adored the sounds of it all. Thrashing, laughing, stammering....such exquisite cuteness.

'HOHOHOSTY PWEHEASE H-HOHOSTY NAHAT THEHERE!'

Robbie cried, the zombie still in awe that the quite man was being such a teasy meanie! Robbie was just a poor mess right now. His normally messy hair was past the realms of unkemptness and nearly covered his eyes, all the while his face shone....purple; a legitimate purple. The Host tilted his head up at the zombie with a playful grin.

'Oh no, the Host assures Robbie that that's where the doctor was tickled. The doctor was very specific in his descriptions-'

'YOHOHOU SAHAHARCASTIHIC SHIHIHIZZ!'

The Host paused. Now this WAS a rare occurrence. The Host had been cut off in the middle of speaking.....how....very....rude. On top of that, he'd been cut off by someone who was usually oh so mild-mannered and sweet; the Host felt happy that he was bringing out the sass in little Oliver. However, such rudeness was NOT going to go unpunished. The Host's head snapped to Oliver, making the little droid gulp fearfully.

'That wasn't very pleasant Oliver.'

Oliver knew that as soon as he'd cut Host off he'd made a grave mistake....but nothing could have prepared him for the retribution. The droid's eyes widened when he felt one of his hipbones being kneaded.....kneaded.

'AAHAHAHA OHOHOLI WHYYYY??!!'

Oliver looked to Robbie in shock, gasping in realisation through his own laughter as Robbie's wails caught his attention.....the Host had decided to punish Robbie too, even though he wasn't sassy along with Oliver....this was what true evil looked like. Oliver cried out as he arched his back sharply, mouth and eyes wide as he looked between Robbie and the Host helplessly.

'AHHHHHI'MSORRYROBBIEI'MSORRYHOSTY NAHAHAHHHH!!'

The Host chuckled softly, humming playfully in the wake of Oliver's sweet apologies.

'HOHOHOOOOST C'MAHAHAAAN!!'

If the Host could have rolled his eyes with affection, then he would have. He settled for a stream of chuckles as he snapped his fingers, allowing for Oliver and Robbie to have a little mercy.

'Ahalright, the Host believes Oliver....goodness, the Host never knew that pacing could be such a workout....'

The Host grinned and turned his back on his captives for a moment, but only so that he could pull up his armchair before them and sink down into it with a satisfied smile. As the Host got himself comfortable....the looks that Oliver and Robbie shared had....changed somewhat. They were happy....because....well, being treated so playfully was rather fun for them....they didn't dislike the situation that they were in. Not only that, but they could both tell that the other was somewhat eager to find out what the Host would have in store for them. They both looked to the Host with soft smiles and tittering voices as the Host laced his fingers together in his lap.

'Speaking of workouts....'

.....Oliver knew what was coming next. Oliver remembered. Ohhh no...oh no oh no oh no. The little android started getting giggly, which ended up making Robbie giggly too as they both squirmed giddily; they didn't have it in them to be defiant anymore, only cuteness remained.

'N-N-Nohoho w-w-wahahait h-hahang ohohon-'

'Why should the Host do that? If anything, waiting would merely make the anticipatory butterflies on Oliver and Robbie's bellies so much worse.'

The Host cut Oliver off, and smirked with satisfaction at the squeaks he received when he mentioned Oliver and Robbie's soft, trembling....vulnerable, bellies. The Host sunk into his armchair more as Oliver and Robbie subconsciously sucked in their tummies....which would not serve to save them from the Host's next assault.

'Now with workouts, personally the Host admires whoever dedicates themselves to such endeavours of fitness. Especially when it comes to Silver Shepherd and Jackie-Boy Man, who have their routines doing pull ups together so they can motivate one another....'

Oliver and Robbie saw that a hand was approaching them each, and approaching them slowly. Oliver felt himself blushing as subtly twitching fingers came closer and closer to his abdomen, whilst Robbie was just whining and giggling already; the anticipation was already tickle inducing. The Host liked a slow approach, it did wonderful things to the nerves. The Host purred under his breath to make the hands slip under their t-shirts and rest on their bare tummies, and he smirked when they both tensed and squeaked with practically perfect synchronicity. The Host next words came slowly too, like his magical manipulations. He drawled out each word and every syllable.

'On this occasion though, both of them were a little tired. However, they were determined to meet their targets and mused to one another about calling for someone to help motivate them....and guess who answered their call?'

And here we see one of the Host's many tickle tropes; a teasy, rhetorical question. In combination with another tactic which was to persist gently so that the true attack would unexpected and more intense, and it certainly worked. Oliver and Robbie in fact let out quite shrill screams when those calm hands suddenly dug into their tummies.

'FRIHIHIHIHIHIIIICK!'

Oliver exclaimed, which caused the Host to muse.

'Mmm, not quite. Namely, it was the pair of you. Ruthlessly targeting their poor abdominals whilst you used a spare hand each to help keep them hanging from their pull-up poles. Truly evil....'

The Host shook his head and tutted in a reprimanding fashion, all the while his poor victims begged and begged and begged....and were rather rude.

'AAAHHHAHAHA POHOHOHOOPY POHOHOHOOOOPYYY!!'

The usually mild-mannered Robbie was the one who shrieked those filthy words as he laughed and quivered, his soft tummy was a wonderful weakness it seemed. Now, we all know that the word poopy is as far from swearing as you can probably get, Robbie knew that, Oliver knew that, and the Host certainly knew that....except....it wasn't exactly a NICE word either. Since it wasn't a nice word, this led Host to the conclusion that Robbie....was a rude, rude boy.

'Goodness, the Host was not aware that Robbie knew such foul language....he supposed that Oliver was being a devious influence....'

The Host crooned, and at first Oliver and Robbie sighed in relief at the fact that they weren't getting additional punishment....but Oliver ended up blushing bright at the Host's ending words. Oliver cried out, filled with the most indignation that it was probably possible to feel in one moment.

'IHIHIHI CAHAHAN'T SWEHEHEAR YOHOHOU MAHAHATCHFIHIDGET!!'

.....now the laughter of Oliver and Robbie was not the only laughter in the room. The Host was able to predict many things, but the results of Oliver's censoring module was not one of them, and he loved it. He clapped his hands together in amusement as the droid blushed even harder, still laughing with his comrade as their struggles started getting weaker. They both moved in sync again, trying to hide their flustered faces in the wrists or forearms or elbows or biceps, and the Host figured it was time for another instance of mercy.

'Ahhh of course, it must have slipped the Host's mind....'

Oliver and Robbie gasped as the hands crawled out from their t-shirts, drifting away as they trembled and whined. They looked to each other, wanting nothing more than to be able to fall into each other's arms and rub each other's ghost tickles away. The Host could feel it, and his heart utterly melted, it was like they were pining for each other's friendly comfort....and the Host knew they would have it soon, very soon. Now....it was time for the final act of retribution.

'How sweet you both are.....just like another that the Host is sure you both know. Dear little Jamie....'

The Host purred gently, and as Oliver and Robbie looked to the Host, they felt a mixture of emotions. Nervousness, because they knew what tickling came next....but also relief, because they knew that Jamie was the last person they'd managed to have their fun with. They gulped when they felt hands on their shins bending their legs, so they were hovering in kneeling positions as their feet faced sole up behind them. The Host continued.

'The poor thing had misplaced his monocle, until he noticed it gleaming far underneath his bed, and thus he dove under to retrieve it. And retrieve it he did....but then he discovered himself to be stuck. What a bother! Plus, with no socks on, his exposed feet started getting chilly....'

Oliver and Robbie squeaked when they felt their socks being pulled off, their feet wiggling and scrunching in anticipation as they gazed at the Host with utter desperation.

'Plehease....H-H-Hohost plehease no mohore....'

'W-W-Wehe s-sorry!'

'Wehe are w-w-we're s-so sorry!'

'P-P-Pweh-EEEEEEEEK!'

The Host snickered at their frantic back and forth begs, and particularly at Robbie's squeal. There was one hand per foot, and each foot had five blunt nails dragging up and down it at a ceaseless, tickly pace.

'Apologies, the Host wasn't quite listening, what did you both say?'

Neither of them could handle their feet being tickled, even if it was gentle it was just pure torture for them. Robbie's laughter was filled with uncontrolled snarls, whilst Oliver's were filled with voice crackles and adorable, metallic hiccups. Either way, they were both hysterical.

'NAHAHAT OHOHOUR FEHEHEHEHEEEET!!!'

Oliver screamed, with Robbie soon following suit, teary eyed as he tried his best to ignore the scrapes at his delicate inner arches.

'WEHEHEHE SAHAHAHAWWYYYY!!!'

The Host raised an eyebrow, humming as he fiddled and played with the tassles of his armchair with one hand. With his other hand, he cupped one of his ears, calling out with a playful smile....or was it sadistic...ah well, same thing in this context really.

'Say that again?'

The Host's lips spread into a smirk when the air around him was filled with intense cries and babbles.

'PLEHEHEHEASE NOHOHO MOHOHORE!!!'

'WEHEHEHE SOHOHO SAHAWWY!!'

'YEHEHEHEEES SOSOSOSO SOHOHO SOHOHORRY!!!'

Oliver and Robbie were pretty much on the verge of tears, but then it all stopped. The Host waved his hands, making all the ghostly hands disappear, apart from the ones holding Oliver and Robbie aloft. He made the hands carefully cradle the two recovering boys and set them down on the carpet gently, before the Host swept forth and opened his arms, his smile was kind.

'Come here.....come....it is alright....'

Oliver and Robbie had clung to each other almost instantly after being released, and now they crawled forwards hastily into the Host's arms, both whining for warmth at affection. With those wide lilac eyes and shining golden orbs staring up at him, how could the Host NOT care for them?! He brought them to his chest and wiped their tears away, kissing their foreheads and rubbing their backs as soft, whispered words of praise left his lips, Soon, Oliver and Robbie were both smiling and eagerly snuggling, holding each other's hands. Robbie was the first to whisper back to the Host.

'F-F-Forgiven?'

Robbie nibbled his bottom lip softly with nervousness, and the Host immediately kissed his temple warmly as he crooned.

'Everyone forgives you both, in fact, they all told the Host that they were very impressed at your brave cheekiness....'

He ruffled Robbie's hair whilst giving Oliver's shoulder a gentle nudge, making them both giggle happily. Then the Host realised something....he was trapped on the floor in their cuddles now. He cleared his throat softly.

'Ah, Oliver....what is the probability of the Host being released from these cuddles?'

Oliver grinned and hummed, sharing a look with a smirking Robbie, before replying.

'Approximately.....zero.'

The Host pursed his lips, and repressed a bashful laugh when their embraces tightened and Robbie growled into his chest.

'Our Hosty forever!'

The Host sighed out through his nose, before musing and holding them closer.

'Well, there are worse prisons.'

And so for the eternity of about a few hours, the Host remained trapped in the clutches of the most affectionate, warm beings on the entire planet. So, all in all, it was one of the best days ever.

WOOOOPPP DONE AND DONE HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT LEMME KNOW IF YA DOOOO WOOOO LUV YOUS XX

[dean-bluesteel-winchester-spnfam]

Every question.

1. Would you have sex with the last person you text messaged?Ohhh yes ;)

2. You talked to an ex today, correct?Nope. I never saw Cassie again since I saved her more than ten years ago. Lisa doesn’t even remember me. And Robin? Nope I visit her once at the restaurant she works at but that was also a long time ago.And I mean... why would I?

3. Have you taken someones virginity?Yeah I did.

4. Is trust a big issue for you?Actually yeah. I mean I got myself a family that I trust but it was always hard for me to start trusting someone. Now when I do trust someone, then it isn’t an issue anymore.

5. Did you hang out with the person you like recently?‘Hang out’ heh? That’s how the kids call it today? But really, of course I do. Woke up next to him a few hours ago.

6. What are you excited for?Don’t tell anyone. Maybe christmas. Definitively for my wedding.

7. What happened tonight?Hmm. I made dinner, we watched a movie. Cas was telling me about some new facts about bees. I tried to teach him pool. He disctracted me. We went to bed ;)

8. Do you think it’s disgusting when girls get really wasted?What even is this question? Get wasted if you wanrt. Just be safe.

9. Is confidence cute?I think so.

10. What is the last beverage you had?Whiskey.

11. How many people of the opposite sex do you fully trust?Eh let’s see. Mom, Jody, Donna, Ellen, Jo, Charlie, Claire, Alex. So eight.

12. Do you own a pair of skinny jeans?Ugh. Yeah. But I never wore them. Dunno. Probably look stupid.

13. What are you gonna do Saturday night?Trying to teach Cas pool again. Or maybe watch a movie and just enjoy a nice day without almost dying.

14. What are you going to spend money on next?Hmmm good question. Probably pie. But I’m also eying some classes I’d love to take. So maybe.

15. Are you going out with the last person you kissed?Oh hell yes.

16. Do you think you’ll change in the next 3 months?People always change a bit. I think maybe it’s little things. I do hope to get happier. Without having to worry all the time.

17. Who do you feel most comfortable talking to about anything?@anangelamuse-castiel-spnfam

18. The last time you felt broken?When Jake killed Mom and Cas walked away from me.

19. Have you had sex today?Not yet. Wish me luck.

20. Are you starting to realize anything?What should I realize?

21. Are you in a good mood?Yeah.

22. Would you ever want to swim with sharks?Honestly? I think it’d be kinda badass. But I can already hear Cas and Sammy scolding me.

23. Are your eyes the same color as your dad’s?Nope. I have no idea why my eyes turned out to be so green.

24. What do you want right this second?Cas.

25. What would you say if the person you love/like kissed another girl/boy?I hate this question. If he would kiss somebody else and *wants* to be with them, I’d let him go. No matter how that would hurt.

26. Is your current hair color your natural hair color?Yes it is.

27. Would you be able to date someone who doesn’t make you laugh?I don’t think so. I mean laughing is so important and Cas makes me laugh all the time (not always on purpose).

28. What was the last thing that made you laugh?Cas asking Sam why his hair looks like that.

29. Do you really, truly miss someone right now?Sure do. Mostly my mom. But I also miss Cas and Sammy when they are away.

30. Does everyone deserve a second chance?Yes.

31. Honestly, do you hate the last boy you were talking to?No. He’s my brother.

32. Does the person you have feelings for right now, know you do?Yeah. I mean he didn’t for a long time, but I was brave and finally told him.

33. Are you one of those people who never drinks soda?Yeah kinda. Like really rare that I order soda.

34. Listening to?Led Zeppelin.

35. Do you ever write in pencil anymore?Sometimes.

36. Do you know where the last person you kissed is?Yeah I can hear the shower and you know what? He sings sometimes in there.

37. Do you believe in love at first sight?Ask me ten years ago, I’d say no. But when Cas came into that old barn? All powerful and hot? Maybe I got hard. But really the love came after I really got to know him.

38. Who did you last call?Charles. Invited her over.

39. Who was the last person you danced with?Cas. I just dunno grabbed him and spun him around in the bunker. I think he was kinda surprised but it was nice.

40. Why did you kiss the last person you kissed?Because I wanted the pie he baked. No, because I love him of course. Wished him a goodnight like that.

41. When was the last time you ate a cupcake?Donna gave me some a few weeks ago. So good, but not pie.

42. Did you hug/kiss one of your parents today?No... they are both dead.

43. Ever embarrass yourself in front of a crush?When do I not? Just yesterday I slipped in the shower and Castiel saw it while he brushed his teeth. A+

44. Do you tan in the nude?I try to tan, but it never works. I get only more freckles.

45. If you could, would you take back your last kiss?No.

46. Did you talk to someone until you fell asleep last night?Yeah. Cas always talk to me to sleep, so I can shut my brain off.

47. Who was the last person to call you?Cas or Sammy.

48. Do you sing in the shower?....No?

49. Do you dance in the car?Hell yes.

50. Ever used a bow and arrow?Yeah quite a lot actually. Comes in handy while hunting.

51. Last time you got a portrait taken by a photographer?Oh... never actually. Or does the mugshot count?

52. Do you think musicals are cheesy?Yeah. But I like them anyway.

53. Is Christmas stressful?I have no idea? I just sounds nice.

54. Ever eat a pierogi?No.

55. Favorite type of fruit pie?Everyone thinks it’s apple. And while I kill for apple pie, cherry is even better.

56. Occupations you wanted to be when you were a kid?After that with Mom, I wanted to be a firefighter. Also loved to be a mechanic or... have a bakery.

57. Do you believe in ghosts?Ha. yes.

58. Ever have a Deja-vu feeling?Yeah and I hate it.

59. Take a vitamin daily?No?

60. Wear slippers?Yeah.

61. Wear a bath robe?Also yes.

62. What do you wear to bed?If Cas fucks the lights out of me, nothing. Otherwise he got us soft pajames, because apprently it’s not good for me to sleep in jeans.

63. First concert?Small town band I forgot the name of. I sneaked out when Dad was sleeping and got wasted. I can still hear him screaming at me next morning, cause he thought a monster got me.

64. Wal-Mart, Target or Kmart?I don’t care.

65. Nike or Adidas?Neither?

66. Cheetos Or Fritos?Cheetos.

67. Peanuts or Sunflower seeds?Peanuts.

68. Favorite Taylor Swift song?What? I don’t have a... okay it’s ‘Shake it off.’

69. Ever take dance lessons?No - but when I was young I wanted to... I just.. well maybe I should take some before the wedding, right?

70. Is there a profession you picture your future spouse doing?Oh. Not really, I’m just happy if they are happy as well.

71. Can you curl your tongue?Yes.

72. Ever won a spelling bee?No.

73. Have you ever cried because you were so happy?Yes.

74. What is your favorite book?Sherlock Holmes.

75. Do you study better with or without music?With.

76. Regularly burn incense?No.

77. Ever been in love?Still am.

78. Who would you like to see in concert?Led Zeppelin. AC/DC. Elvis...

79. What was the last concert you saw?Can’t remember their name.

80. Hot tea or cold tea?Hot.

81. Tea or coffee?Coffee.

82. Favorite type of cookie?Chocolate.

83. Can you swim well?Yes.

84. Can you hold your breath without holding your nose?Eh yeah.

85. Are you patient?Not really. Which is not a good thing.

86. DJ or band, at a wedding?Band.87. Ever won a contest?Yeah once I won an eating contest.

88. Ever have plastic surgery?Nope.

89. Which are better black or green olives?Ew. None.

90. Opinions on sex before marriage?Everyone can do what they like. I wish I hadn’t waited for marriage but maybe for the right person.

91. Best room for a fireplace?Living room. Or my Dean cave.

92. Do you want to get married?Yes.

[enviromancomic]

Part 6 - Happiness is a Gift you give Yourself

Steamy windless night.  Sophia already bound with energy from the prior day’s revelations , the summertime weather  would only add to the usual dampness of her slumber and sometimes lack there of. Her ratty old Rolling Stones concert tee absorbed her profusion like Keith Richards sucking up a vodka and orange soda.  With the night sky still a solid black Sophia’s eyes flickered open. Coaxed along by her restlessness and one loud gray friend. Oh Banana Brain why must you be you? Sophia let out slowly with a sigh as was the norm for her at this hour.  The noise box replied with a glance that said, What?  You don’t get it by now?  Adjusting her damp tee and rolling over onto her stomach Sophia blurted out  a solid damn it! I went to bed so calm and self aware and yet I still sweat myself into oblivion.  One of these days I would like to take my brain right out of my effen head and just put it in a lock box for a while. Then just maybe ….maybe I will be able to sleep. The cat unimpressed with his keeper’s musings slowly walked to the hallway and went back to sleep. Still dark yet a bit closer to daybreak  there now was that faint murmur of chirping birds. Sophia lay calmly awake as she brushed her normal frustration away.  Listening to that faint murmur gradually become louder a smile came to her face.  She now realized that some things just are what they are and are easier to deal with if you just accept and roll along with them. Contemplating and absorbing that all in, she decided to take this moment that she was now in and just be in it.  She noticed the birds as she became now more aware of the different sounds and songs that were available to her. She could see out her window that the darkness was beginning to lift ever so slightly and there was a bit of orange and purple at the tip of the horizon.  A warm sultry breeze blew through the open window pushing the curtains skyward.  With the orange now more vibrant Sophia exclaimed with a soft Wow!.  You see what you want to see I guess and you take what you wanna take as well.  Had I not been awake and had I not chosen to be in this moment I would have missed all this awesomeness.  Huh?  What else am I missing?  Hmnnn...I wonder? What happens when one’s choice leads to other better unforeseen events? I could have been my normal grumpy angry self and tossed and turned to the beat of my own curdling blood, but this time I decided to be more aware and see what I could take from it and wow! Look what happened. An astonishingly pleased Sophia thought to herself. She lay there thinking and thought how nice it would be to lay there with someone special and soak all that in together.  This particular thought started to bring her back down into her usual loneliness and a grim look began to take root. Luckily for her the wind blew the curtains aside once again and the glimpse of that orangey purple pulled her right of that trap.

A well fed cat looked wantingly out of the back door as an enlightened wannabe artist prepared her morning joe. Dark bitter and with a bit of grit is how she took her coffee.  Just like my men she said with a smirk as the first drips hit the pot. The cat was uninterested in her off color humor and continued his gaze outward. Afterall he was gray, a mix of black and white so to speak. Waiting for the process to complete our girl thought about her own process and what it was that suddenly started to make her think in a different way.  She wasn’t really sure. Maybe it was the talk with her friend or maybe it was just her moving into the true desire of  moving forward for a change. 

Walking slowly towards the door, Sophia tried to curtail the rapid heartbeat that was racing within her. With each step she repeated to herself. “You got this. It’s all you” “You got this. It’s all you”. Pulling the door open the much too cold air conditioned air burst through the opening and surrounded her like a storm cloud. What the hell! It’s colder than a nun on Good Friday in here! Making her way up the creaky back steps towards the classroom she paused. She took a deep breath. She took another as she knew what she had to do.  She walked into the class and looked around as she made her way to her seat. Most of the class was already there, but her crush had yet to make himself seen. SHe sat down and glanced over at Jade who was kicked back in her chair with her black boots perched upon the desk. Sophia grinned as she got quite a kick out of her ball of fire instructor. Gathering herself Sophia got situated in her spot as she looked around the class towards the other side of the room where Carey usually took  up residence. Thinking that maybe he wouldn’t show this evening she started to think to herself that perhaps she got herself all worked up for not. No sooner did she finish her thought did he walk through the door. Her heart began to rev up once again as he sat down. Knowing what her intention was going to be for the evening our art gurl made sure she had dressed the part.  With her hair spilling across her shoulders and the top of her tight flowered blouse revealing just enough to make it interesting she had finished it off with a pair of funky intoxicating boots herself. Maybe there was a bit of copy cating with her prof going on here.  Almost simultaneously Carey and Sophia looked in each other's direction. The instance brought a confident smile to Carey’s face and a bit of Oh my God blushing to our Sophia. SHe managed to smile back and then looked away.  SHe knew that her intention had to stay on track even for the sake of just doing it. How am I going to do this? She thought to herself.  She pondered over and over in her sometimes cluttered mind. Should I just walk over and start talking?  Should I wait till break in hopes that our paths cross?  Should I ask him to borrow something?  Ughh….I am getting overwhelmed. Knock it off Sophia. She scolded herself. 

Ohhh...wait….I got it!  Haha this is good.  I could write a note and fold it up just like we did in grade school.  This is going to be fun and funny! She thought to herself.  A little bit of the old spunky Sophia seemed to be making itself apparent for a change.  Was this the beginning of what’s to come?  She giggled to herself a bit as she reached into her bag for her art pad.  Ripping a piece off she looked up at her conquest.  Sophia almost had a bit of confidence in her actions.  Where did  this come from?  She was into it and it showed.  She fired off a few lines almost instantaneously. She didn’t really even think about it. She then folded up the message in the usual square and sent it on its way.  Can you pass this over to that guy over there?  She said to her neighbor with a kind directness. The socially vacant women looked at Sophia with a bit of uncertainty.  She however passed the note along. Sophia felt her heartbeat rise as the note made its way from person to person closer and closer.  Now reaching its target the note lay in front of her crush. Carey glanced at the note and with a somewhat perplexed look he began to unfold the dossier.  Sophia watched from across the room as she ran her fingers through her hair. Feeling a bit aroused from the tension and anticipation Sophia took a deep breath to calm herself a bit.  Glancing down Carey began to read the handwritten letter of intent. A slight smile was making itself apparent on his face as he neared the end. He looked up at his interest from across the room with a bit of a sultry smile.  The man bled a coveted confidence yet never seemed cocky. Sophia smiled back. She could feel the blood filling out her body parts.  She was thoroughly excited at the prospect.  She was looking for her gift. She wanted her happiness. The sound of hard soled black boots hitting the floor was the obvious signal that class was now in. The pair looked at each other with a slight smile as Jade began the day’s lesson plan.

[welcometothepenumbra]

JUNO STEEL AND THE LESSON LEARNED (PART ONE)

SOUND: RAIN. TRAIN ARRIVES, CREAKS TO A STOP. DOOR CLANKS OPEN.

CONDUCTOR: Ah, good evening, Traveler. And welcome… to The Penumbra. Take your seat, please, take your seat.

MUSIC: STARTS.

SOUND: DOOR CLANKS SHUT.

The junction lies just ahead, Traveler. If you'll allow me just a moment.

SOUND: TRAIN WHISTLE.

(CHUCKLES) Well, next stop? Hyperion City.

SOUND: TRAIN MOVING.

Detecive Steel's had a lot of employers over his private eye career, but none have ever been quite as big as Ramses O’Flaherty: CEO, philanthropist, mayoral candidate, and Martian mystery. Big clients mean big payouts, of course, but as Detective Steel is about to find, they also mean a big target on your back.

SOUND: TRAIN BRAKES. DOOR CLANKS OPEN, RAIN.

Our next stop: Juno Steel and the Lesson Learned.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

SOUND: COMMS BEEP. FABRIC RUSTLING.

JUNO: (GROGGY MOAN)

RAMSES O'FLAHERTY (FROM COMMS): Rise and shine, boy. There’s work to be done.

JUNO: (GROGGY) Ramses…?

RAMSES: There’s a limousine outside the apartment. It will bring you to me.

JUNO: But I’m– I'm not in my apartment.

RAMSES: Did I say your apartment? (CHUCKLES) I know exactly where you are, so don’t leave me waiting. I won’t wait for kings and I won’t wait for Juno Steel.

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

JUNO: (SIGHS)

SOUND: FABRIC RUSTLING.

VOICE 1: (YAWNS) What the hell? What time is it?

JUNO: It's too early for this.

VOICE 1: Sneaking out in the middle of the night isn’t very ladylike.

MUSIC: STARTS.

JUNO: No, I… no, I guess it isn’t.

You, uh… you want me to call, or somethin'?

VOICE 1: Not if you’re gonna ask that way, I don’t. I’m sorry you didn’t… you know, work out, but you don’t have to be so—

JUNO: Fine. I’ll see you around… you.

VOICE 1: My name’s Lara!

SOUND: DOOR OPENS, CLOSES.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Business runs everything in Hyperion City, and business operates on one key rule: supply and demand. A little’s worth a lot, a lot’s worth a little, and inevitably you’ve got too damn much of what you don’t want and none of what you need.

SOUND: CAR WINDOW ROLLS DOWN.

VOICE 2: Mr. Steel? Mr. O’Flaherty sent me.

JUNO: No chance I can regift you, I’m guessing?

VOICE 2: I’m afraid not, sir.

JUNO: (SIGHS)

SOUND: WINDOW ROLLS UP. CAR DOOR OPENS.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Supply and demand runs the way you think about just about everything in this damn city. Even people. You spend too much time with too many of them and they become faceless, like not a single one’s worth a thing on their own. And it’s enough to make you think, hell, maybe people aren’t worth as much as they used to be, because there’s just too many of 'em. But supply and demand doesn’t work unless there’s something to demand. Something rare. Someone valuable.

And no matter how much you tell yourself that value’s all in your head, no matter how much you try to make them faceless just like everyone else, some people are just… one of a kind.

And there’s nothing rarer than one of a kind.

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

RAMSES (FROM COMMS): Juno! Glad to see you’ve decided to join me.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Like Ramses O’Flaherty, candidate for mayor of Hyperion City. One of a kind, and that’s a good thing. Not sure I could survive two of him.

RAMSES: Would you like coffee? The limo can get it for you.

JUNO: What I’d like is two minutes to collect myself. Little needy for you to call me on the car ride to you.

RAMSES: Either you’re just that charming or I’m too busy to care. How does your new eye feel?

JUNO: Invasive and expensive. Also about once every forty-five minutes I see a flash of something that I’m pretty sure is the inside of my own head.

RAMSES: You have to expect a few kinks early on with technology this advanced. The Theia Spectrum is the best eye money can buy – and you certainly get some bang for your buck, don’t you?

JUNO (NARRATOR): Ramses wasn’t wrong.

I’d already taken the new eye out for a spin since the surgery – just me, an alley, and some beer bottles. Like when I was a kid. Before the Miasma incident, my record for blasting seven bottles had been two-point-two seconds. With the new eye—

SOUND: BEEPS.

THEIA COMPUTER VOICE: Targets locked.

SOUND: SEVEN RAPID-FIRE GUNSHOTS.

JUNO (NARRATOR): —one second flat.

The new eye worked. It… really worked.

RAMSES: You’ll have to learn all that on the job. Just make sure you learn quickly. A life is on the line.

JUNO: Whose?

RAMSES: Mine.

JUNO: You don’t sound worried.

RAMSES: (CHUCKLES) I’m running for mayor, Juno. I’d have to be an idiot not to expect a death threat here and there. Even if this one is more elaborate than I’d imagined.

JUNO: How so?

RAMSES: I received some interesting mail this morning. There’s a copy of it in the seat with you.

SOUND: PAPER RUSTLING.

JUNO: This looks like… Ramses, did someone tear a page out of their history textbook and mail it to you?

RAMSES: Read it.

JUNO: Chapter Nine: The Long and Violent History of Hyperion City’s Politics…

Ramses O’Flaherty was an executive for Northstar Entertainment and popular mayoral candidate in Hyperion City who was murdered tragically outside the Fortezza at noon on May the—

That’s today’s date, Ramses.

RAMSES: Look at you, gathering clues. A true wunderkind.

JUNO: A page from a history textbook that doesn’t exist. This sounds like…

Oh, no. No, no. You’ve got to be kidding me. This is the Proctor, isn’t it? This car’s bringing me to the Fortezza.

RAMSES: To the Fortezza? Of course not.

JUNO: That’s a relief. Because if there’s one prison I can’t stand in this lousy city, it’s that—

RAMSES: If the HCPD saw one of my cars within three blocks of the Fortezza, it would be vandalized in seconds. Running on a platform against corrupt authorities means you spend a lot of your time avoiding the corrupt authorities. So, the car will be stopping four blocks away from the Fortezza, and we’ll walk the rest of the way.

JUNO: Ramses!

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

Ramses! (GROWLS)

JUNO (NARRATOR): The Fortezza was where they brought the worst of Hyperion’s criminals… so long as they played nice. Or had the money to make you forget they hadn’t played nice.

The HCPD justified it like this: if you have a bunch of smart criminals locked up and just sitting around, why not put those criminal brains to work? Not for free, of course – nothing in Hyperion is free – but on a consulting basis. Ask the bad guy how to catch another bad guy, then give him something he wants. You scratch my back, I give you a century-old bottle of wine and a golden toilet.

So they put together a private jail to keep all the consultants in – the Fortezza, a massive prison-palace for the crème de la crime. Any criminal who caught the public eye for acts of illegal genius would be offered a spot in one of the best housing options Hyperion had to offer. Suffice it to say public criminal genius became a pretty competitive game after that.

SOUND: CAR DOOR OPENS.

RAMSES: Juno. It’s good to see you in person. Are you ready for our field trip?

JUNO: No.

SOUND: CAR DOOR CLOSES.

Damn it, Ramses, I can’t believe we’ve only been working together for a week and you’ve already got me on one of those… monsters in the Fortezza.

RAMSES: “Consulting criminal” is the preferred term.

JUNO: I thought the Proctor was still locked up. How the hell is she gonna kill you from inside there?

RAMSES: In due time. You’ve only seen her History lesson so far; she has a full slate of courses waiting for us.

JUNO: Of course she does.

RAMSES: And in the meantime, we have another set of twisted minds to talk about.

(CHUCKLES) You must have looked into me by this point. What did you find?

JUNO: Not much. Executive for Northstar Entertainment by day, activist and philanthropist by… also-day.

RAMSES: I’m very protective of my beauty sleep.

JUNO: Looks like making movies gives you a lot of time and money for some hobbies. Major contributions to the Hyperion Anti-Corruption League; founded the Homes for Hyperion Organization, the Raising the Poor Fund, about two dozen soup kitchens—

RAMSES: Ohhh, don’t flatter me. I’ve only opened twenty-three. (CHUCKLING) But I’m disappointed. That’s all public record.

JUNO: Oh right, there was this one tiny little thing, probably nothing. Mind telling me why you didn’t exist thirty years ago?

RAMSES: (LAUGHS HEARTILY) Thirty years ago! I must have aged terribly, if I was born thirty years ago.

JUNO: No, I don’t mean you were born thirty years ago. I mean that Ramses O’Flaherty didn’t exist until then. What I’m trying to figure out is who you are.

RAMSES: And how did you come about that conclusion?

JUNO: Secretary got some, I got the rest. She hacked into the Town Hall servers, I broke into the census office – y’know, P.I. stuff.

RAMSES: Very exciting.

JUNO: Expensive, too. Took enough overtime out of Rita that I had to give her the week off. But it all amounts to this: one day, thirty years ago, all of Ramses O’Flaherty’s spending records changed – you started shopping at different places, buying different foods, clothes, all kinds of stuff.

RAMSES: Perhaps I went on a diet. Or a mid-life crisis.

JUNO: Nobody’s crisis is so bad they change their breakfast cereal and their deodorant on the same day. Someone named Ramses O’Flaherty stopped using his identity, so you took it over. My only question is why.

RAMSES: Even so, none of that means I didn’t exist thirty years ago, Juno. So I changed my name thirty years ago. That you’ve proven. But a name isn’t worth anything more than a few pretty sounds and you and I both know it.

What matters is identity. You may be P.I. to the stars now, but you have not always been and you won’t always be, and in comparison to what you do? The sounds “Juno Steel” don’t mean a thing.

JUNO: Maybe you’re right, Ramses. I just have a hard time trusting people who can’t figure out what they want to call themselves.

RAMSES: Well, if you like, you can call me Mr. Mayor. It’s what I plan to go by for a long, long time. (CHUCKLES) Ah, and here’s the Fortezza. Charming, isn’t it?

JUNO: Yeah, real pretty. So where are you supposedly gonna die?

RAMSES: Just through this gate. Come along, Juno. Art class awaits.

JUNO: Art what?

SOUND: GATE CREAKS OPEN.

Oh. Art class.

JUNO (NARRATOR): The square in front of the Fortezza was set up for a big event, with chairs all set up in rows facing a podium at the far side. A body was slumped over the podium, red lines of blood dripping down. The body looked just like Ramses O’Flaherty.

RAMSES: Sculpture’s never been my main artistic interest, but the composition here’s really something, isn’t it? I did always want to know what my death would look like.

JUNO: What’s written on that podium?

RAMSES: “Principles of Art 101. Study closely and underline key terms. You will have a test at noon today.”

JUNO: God damn it. It really is the Proctor, isn’t it?

RAMSES: It seems to be the case. A serial killer turned Fortezza consultant, who killed all of her victims by means of her elaborate and violent 'education.' She always promised to let anyone live who passed her tests… but of course, nobody ever passed them.

JUNO: But all that was twenty years ago. Hell, I was in the Academy when she got caught.

RAMSES: Correction: she’s never been caught. She turned herself in – making her criminal career, as she put it, a perfect A+.

JUNO: That’s… really stupid.

RAMSES: But flashy. And getting a cell in the Fortezza’s a very competitive gig, Juno. These days you have to be more than a genius murderer: you’d better draw a crowd, too.

And that’s exactly the subject of my speech here today. The people in this fortress have destroyed countless lives, and they live in more comfort than Hyperion’s poorest citizens. Why should they be rewarded for their crimes while honest people suffer?

JUNO: Yeah, yeah, I get it. Save some for the speech.

RAMSES: Places like the Fortezza are first on my list when it comes time to do good in Hyperion City. So you can understand why someone who benefits from that corruption might not be my biggest fan.

JUNO: Sure. What time’s that speech?

RAMSES: In four hours – noon.

JUNO: So exactly when her art lesson said you were gonna die. Right here, exactly where her history textbook said you were gonna die, and exactly where you found a statue of yourself, dead.

RAMSES: Of course.

JUNO: Hey, here’s an idea: why don’t you just, y’know, not?

RAMSES: Not deliver the speech? No, no. That isn’t an option.

JUNO: …You gonna… say why?

RAMSES: To blink would show the Proctor she’s won, Juno. It would show the HCPD I can be threatened. I can’t be threatened, and therefore, on with the speech. That’s some Logic 101 for you.

JUNO: That’s not even good logic! That’s…! Aghhhh, whatever.

RAMSES: Ahhhhh, so he has learned something.

JUNO: If all the Proctor’s murders are supposed to be tests, this is probably what she’s planning your actual death is gonna look like. I’ll see if I can figure out how you died. Maybe then you’ll be convinced to just get the hell out of here.

RAMSES: (LAUGHS) Feel free to try.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

JUNO: Laser hole in the back of the head. Something big, high-caliber, enough to bore into the podium here.

SOUND: TAPPING.

RAMSES: I’m sure the Fortezza will be delighted to hear that. I was told explicitly that I can protest however I like, but this monument is to be treated with respect. Historical significance, or some nonsense. (GRUNTS) Anything else?

JUNO: “Underline the key terms…”

She wants me to draw a line. From the podium, through your head, to… wherever she’s gonna shoot from. If I had a laser targeter, I might be able to calculate the angle of the shot, but…

RAMSES: You do have a laser targeter, Juno. I paid good money for it.

JUNO: The hell are you—

…Oh. The eye.

RAMSES: I assume you know what to do?

JUNO: Yeah, yeah.

SOUND: MECHANICAL WHIRR.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I knew how to do it, but… that didn’t mean I had to like it. Some of it was the little things: feeling the eye shifting in my head; the voice I knew only I could hear.

THEIA: Calculating trajectory.

JUNO (NARRATOR): It’ll take a few days, but then it’ll be just like you always had it, they said. You’ll just think at it and… it'll be like snapping your fingers.

THEIA: Drawing projected angles.

JUNO (NARRATOR): And hell, it was as easy as snapping my fingers.

But there was always a little part of me that was aware that the fingers I was snapping weren’t mine, and the eye that was doing the calculating didn’t belong to me.

RAMSES: So?

JUNO: It’s pretty clear, alright. The laser shot came from up there. Middle parapet, highest window. A peek into the HCPD database says that the top floor is occupied by…

SOUND: ELECTRONIC BEEPING.

(SIGHS) …the Proctor.

RAMSES: You don’t say.

JUNO: I do.

I’m really not gonna get you to do this somewhere else, am I?

RAMSES: You’re not. And I’m afraid the HCPD will be no help, either. They’ve already refused to move her for the day.

JUNO: What?!

RAMSES: Can you blame them? Doing so would be admitting that their ‘consulting payments’ have caused real trouble: she couldn’t do all this without whatever they’ve given her. If they admit fault, they put the entire Fortezza consultant system into question.

JUNO: (SIGHS) Okay, alright. If the HCPD’s worried about a big stink, the only way to make them move the Proctor is to get even stinkier.

RAMSES: (LAUGHS)

JUNO: Yeah, you like that one? If I can get in there and prove that the Proctor set all this up, they’ll have her out in ten minutes. Negligence looks worse than ignorance every time. Only question is… how the hell am I gonna prove it?

RAMSES: That’s for you to figure out. I have a speech to rehearse. With any luck I might even get to read the whole thing.

JUNO: Wow, you… you really don’t sound worried. Like, at all.

RAMSES: I don’t have time to be killed, Juno. It’s that simple. My schedule doesn’t have an open time slot for assassination until at least the third year of my term. If the Proctor wants to kill me, she’ll have to wait.

JUNO: You’re a scary guy, Ramses.

RAMSES: Not nearly as scary as my competition. The other thugs running for mayor would make the Devil blush. You’d better stop this murderer before high noon, Juno – or one of them might take the keys to this city.

JUNO: Let’s worry about saving one thing at a time, Ramses. You’re giving me enough of a headache today.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

SOUND: DING, DOOR SLIDES OPEN. MUSIC IN BACKGROUND.

RAMSES (FROM COMMS): Detective. Have you made it to the Proctor’s cell?

JUNO: I’m at what looks like the top floor lobby. Wow, this place is nice. Crystal chandelier, stained-plastic windows – hell, the ceilings are so high that I can barely make out the fresco.

RAMSES: Juno, there is no top floor lobby. That is her cell.

JUNO: Seriously? She owns all this stuff? That painting is literally made of money! Hundred-cred bills!

RAMSES: The Proctor is one of the HCPD’s most popular consulting murderers. Only the best for Hyperion’s worst.

JUNO: And they just let her wander around up here?

RAMSES: There should be two security guards up there: one by the door, and one with her at all times.

JUNO: Guard by the door? I don’t see a gua—

VOICE 3: Your firearm, sir.

JUNO: (YELPS)

RAMSES: …Juno.

JUNO: Hey, uh, Ramses, I’m gonna have to call you back. Some ghoul in a uniform just crept up on me with a help desk.

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I hadn’t seen the guard because she was behind glass – a window in the same wall as the elevator. Her hat was pulled down low over her face and her shoulders were shaking like she’d either just lost her dog or her muscles. It was creepy, but nothing to worry about, I told myself.

I was wrong. But it was nice to be wrong, for a second.

VOICE 3 (GUARD): Slide your weapon through the window, please.

JUNO: Hey, I know this is probably strange. Just a big misunderstanding. I’m a special consultant with the HCPD and I—

GUARD: Your weapon, please.

JUNO: …Uh, okay.

SOUND: CLUNK.

GUARD: Thank you. The Proctor is just ahead. First door on the left. She wants to see you. Detective Steel.

JUNO: Hey, what the hell? How did you know my name?

SOUND: SNORING.

Hey, listen to me!

SOUND: BANGS ON GLASS.

Listen to me, damn it!

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

What the hell is it now?

RAMSES (FROM COMMS): I won’t tolerate being hung up on, Juno. If you can’t deal with security I should be able to pull some strings.

JUNO: Honestly she might’ve just dealt with herself. Looks like she just fell asleep.

RAMSES: Well, let sleeping pigs lie.

JUNO: Hey, did you tell anyone I was coming up here? It sounds like the Proctor wants to talk to me.

RAMSES: If the Proctor’s given you an invitation, Juno, do not take it. She isn’t some villain out of a comic book, some killer lunatic in a padded cell. She’s a genius – and worse, she’s a bored genius. Stay away from her as long as possible.

JUNO: Don’t have to tell me twice.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

RAMSES: The cells in the Fortezza are huge – random wandering could take time we don’t have. I hope you have a plan of attack.

JUNO: ‘Course I have a plan. We already know one place she needs to make her plan work, so, if we just lock that place down, you’re safe.

RAMSES: You mean… the window the Proctor will be shooting from.

JUNO: I do. Step one: find the window you’re supposedly gonna die from. Step two: make sure you don’t die from it.

Hey, uh… does it feel a little weird to you that that guard is just letting me walk around in here?

RAMSES: Maybe. But, you know the old saying: don’t look a gift Dunespider in the mandibles.

JUNO: Unless you want a faceful of cyanide, right. This just seems… easy.

RAMSES: Given what’s at stake for me here, I find it hard to see that as a downside.

JUNO: In my line of work everything’s a downside, Ramses.

RAMSES: Then private investigation and politics aren’t so different after all. Just be careful. There’s not much I can do from down here.

JUNO: Actually, there might be something you can do. Look up. Do you see me in a window?

SOUND: KNOCKING.

RAMSES: Can you see me?

JUNO: Uh… yeah.

RAMSES: And you’re looking through a window.

JUNO: Yeahhh?

RAMSES: Then of course I can see you. I hope I don’t have to explain to you how windows work?

JUNO: Look, just tell me: where’s the window you’re gonna get killed from? To my left or right?

RAMSES: Two floors above you.

JUNO: Wait, what? But… I’m on the top floor.

RAMSES: Your client says otherwise. And isn’t the customer always right?

JUNO: (SIGHS) Sure, unless they’re lying or trying to kill you.

RAMSES: Oh, Juno. I’m not trying to kill you.

JUNO: Very funny. Look, can you ask around, see if there’s a service elevator or something—

VOICE: (DISTANT) Mr. O’Flaherty! Dan Ludlow with the Hyperion Chronicle. The HCPD says that this is all just a prank – your comment?

RAMSES: And here come the reporters. (SIGHS) It looks like some important business just plopped itself at my feet, Juno. Call me back when you can confirm I won’t die today. Thank you.

JUNO: Wait, damn it!

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

(GROANS)

JUNO (NARRATOR): Did I really need to keep Ramses on the line while I investigated the Proctor’s place? …No. But to be honest, I just wanted the company. I was getting chills up my spine – kept thinking I heard bumps in the walls or footsteps overhead. I poked around the hall for a while, but the place was clean – not so much as a stolen pack of gum. But still, I looked everywhere… until there was only one place left.

The Proctor’s room. Door slightly ajar, that horrible, raspy librarian-whisper coming from it.

SOUND: COUGHING.

It was a bad decision, going in there. Which… made it feel right at home with all my other decisions.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

The Proctor’s bedroom was even nicer than the rest of the apartment. Four-poster bed, tapestries on the wall… even the bars she was behind looked like solid gold.

She, though… didn’t look so hot. As far as I could tell, she was just a mound of blankets on the bed and a bolt of gray-black hair tangled on the pillow. It sounded like her lungs were racing to see which could collapse first.

PROCTOR: Quite a lot of noise out there, today. Something very exciting must have happened.

JUNO: You could say that. Apparently some old has-been’s up to her old tricks. Thinks it’s gonna get her some attention.

PROCTOR: (COUGH-LAUGHING) That’s certainly one interpretation. Though it’s not quite why I did it.

JUNO: Why you– wait, what?

PROCTOR: Why I set up the class. Outside.

JUNO: Is that a… confession? S-seriously?

PROCTOR: Stay here and chat with me, detective, and you’ll get much more than a confession.

JUNO (NARRATOR): A confession was good, but without a record it wasn’t worth much. I set my comms to record quickly and quietly.

JUNO: Alright, I’m game. Chat away.

PROCTOR: Tell me about yourself. I take a great interest in my guests. You have to, when you have so few of them.

JUNO: Name’s Juno Steel, private eye. The guard out front says you’ve heard of me?

PROCTOR: I can’t say I have. I expected Ramses would send someone to pester me. I just thought it might be someone I’d actually heard of.

JUNO: (UNDER HIS BREATH) Ouch.

PROCTOR: Working with Ramses, you must not be a police officer—

JUNO: I just told you, I’m a—

PROCTOR: …anymore. Please, detective. I am infirmed. You’ll have to allow me to finish my thoughts every once in a while.

JUNO: Get your thoughts out in half as many words and maybe I will. The spooky fortuneteller act isn’t gonna work on me, by the way.

PROCTOR: (COUGHING FIT)

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

JUNO: Pretty nice place you got in here. All this fancy stuff: the silk sheets, the music, the portraits on the wall…

PROCTOR: Even the bars are expensive. Highly electrified.

JUNO: You sound like you know that from experience.

PROCTOR: One finds ways to keep… entertained.

JUNO: You must have worked hard to get all this.

PROCTOR: The HCPD asks for my help. I do not say no. Why shouldn’t I comply with my local authorities?

JUNO: Depends on the authorities. And it depends on what you squeeze out of them for your help.

PROCTOR: I squeeze nothing. They give freely. Just as I will give you what I’ve promised.

JUNO: Which is what, exactly?

PROCTOR: Why don’t you look in my desk and find out? I have a present for you.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I let the Theia Spectrum do a quick scan of the drawer.

SOUND: ELECTRONIC BEEPS.

THEIA: No heat signatures detected.

JUNO (NARRATOR): It didn’t pick anything up… but the Proctor was all about her tests. There had to be a twist. I just didn’t know what it was yet.

PROCTOR: The key is on top of the desk, detective. If you want my confession, you’ll use it.

SOUND: KEY TURNING, CLICK. TICKING STARTS.

JUNO: What the hell?!

SOUND: THUD. TICKING SPEEDS UP. ALARM CLOCK GOES OFF.

PROCTOR: There’s no need to be so jumpy. That’s just where I keep my… alarm clocks. (COUGH-LAUGHING)

JUNO: Pretty funny. You should take that one on tour.

PROCTOR: I’ve had plenty of practice. Murder is like comedy.

JUNO: …and?

PROCTOR: And what?

JUNO: You got a punchline for that setup, or what?

PROCTOR: (RASPY BREATHING)

JUNO: “Murder is like comedy: everybody thinks they’re secretly good at it.” Or, “murder is like comedy: if you do it right the other guy ends up on the floor.” Or, “murder is like comedy: both were responsible for three hundred deaths in the Vaudeville Massacre of the twenty-fourth century.” Or, “murder is like comedy—”

PROCTOR: No punchline. They’re just similar.

SOUND: DRAWER OPENS.

JUNO: You keep a lot of alarm clocks in here, but I don’t s– hang on.

SOUND: PAPER SHUFFLING.

“I, the Proctor, do confess to the attempted murder of Ramses O’Flaherty, and unless I am removed I plan to commit this murder at noon on—”

This is a written confession.

PROCTOR: Oops. How very inconvenient.

I am quite tired now. If you could please take that confession and leave. I would greatly appreciate it.

JUNO: Look, I don’t mean to ask too many questions, but, for a serial killer with a school shtick, I’m not seeing much killing or shtick, here.

PROCTOR: I am tired, detective. Everyone gets tired of old habits eventually. The Candelabra Killer downstairs just installed fluorescent lighting. Fishman Tommy’s had his gills removed. We perform for Hyperion City to get a place in this prison-palace. But all performances grow dull eventually. We aren’t the people we used to be.

JUNO: That’s… pretty levelheaded, actually.

PROCTOR: I am a genius.

JUNO: So… I’m just gonna leave now.

PROCTOR: Please do.

JUNO: With this conclusive evidence.

PROCTOR: It is that, yes.

JUNO: Uh… anyway… bye.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

PROCTOR: Goodbye, detective. See you again. Soon.

JUNO: Wait, what?

SOUND: DOOR CLOSES.

Y’know what? No. I don’t want to know.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I walked back down the hall towards the elevator. I called Ramses to give him the good news… but he didn't pick up.

SOUND: COMMS BEEPS.

I made it to the elevator, pushed the button, and waited.

And… waited.

JUNO: …Huh.

SOUND: KNOCKING ON GLASS.

Hey, excuse me? Guard?

Hello?

JUNO (NARRATOR): The stupid security guard was dead asleep. Her shoulders weren’t even moving anymore. I knocked again and again, but nothing woke her up.

SOUND: KNOCKING ON GLASS.

So, I called Ramses again.

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

And again.

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

And… I think you’re getting the picture by now.

SOUND: COMMS BEEP TWICE.

JUNO: Come on, come on, Ramses, come on…

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

RAMSES (FROM COMMS): Juno? I thought I told you not to call me until you’re finished.

JUNO: Ramses, is that you?

RAMSES: Hello? There’s some sort of interference… I can’t make out what you’re saying.

JUNO: Ramses! The elevator up here is… I-I don’t know, it's stuck or something! I need you to handle it, ‘cause this stupid guard won’t—

SOUND: SLAM.

Wake—

SOUND: SLAM.

Up!!

SOUND: SLAM. RATTLING, OBJECTS FALLING OVER.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I was hitting the window hard enough to rattle things on the guard’s desk – and hard enough to make her head roll over, so I could finally get a good look at her face. Or, her complete lack of face. Because, instead of where her face was supposed to be, there were six symbols: A-R-T 1-0-1.

JUNO: Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no-no-no-no-no.

RAMSES: Juno, what is it? I’m losing you.

JUNO: Ramses, it’s just a mannequin! The guard’s a– goddamn art project and I’m trapped up here with this– this-this-this murderer, and you have to—

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

…Ramses? Ramses! Damn call disconnected.

SOUND: DISTANT YELL & RUNNING FOOTSTEPS.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I didn’t know what that was, but I knew I didn’t want to find out unarmed. So I reached for my gun, and then I remembered I’d given it to the guard-that-wasn’t. I couldn’t let whatever lesson the Proctor had planned get the best of me; so I hid around the corner to the hallway, cracked my knuckles, and waited for a brawl. Luckily, I had backup.

SOUND: YELLING & FOOTSTEPS GROW LOUDER.

THEIA: Scanning heat signatures. At current rate, target will be within reach in. Four seconds.

Three… two… one…

SOUND: YELLING & FOOTSTEPS GROW LOUDER. DULL THUMP.

JUNO: Gotcha!

FAMILIAR VOICE: Oh! Oh no! No, no-no-no! I-I don’t wanna die, I don’t wanna dieeeeee—!

JUNO: What…?

Mick! What the hell?!

VOICE (MICK MERCURY!): Oh please, Proctor, don’t kill me I’ve got a dad and three kids and oh! No, that was a lie, I’m sorry I’ve just got the dad, but he’s going to be really upset if I get murdered! Augh, I was just trying to do my joooooooooob—

JUNO: Mick! Mick Mercury! Damn it, snap out of it!

SOUND: SLAP.

MICK: (OOF) Hey… hey… I know that slap…!

(LAUGHS) Jayjay, good buddy, is that you? I can’t believe it! With all that banging upstairs, and the Proctor’s creepy laugh all… laughin’ around, I thought I was deader’n a doornail’s funeral!

(NERVOUS LAUGHING) Hey, uh… how come I get the feeling that I’m a lot happier to see you than you are to see me?

JUNO (NARRATOR): Mick. Mercury.

Here’s the thing: catastrophe stuck to Mick like a bad smell, and if you hung around him long enough you’d start to stink like it, too. I wouldn’t say he was unlucky because ‘unlucky’ implies it’s nobody’s fault. Mick’s luck was so bad so constantly that he must have been doing something to deserve it… but I can’t think of anything that’d piss the universe off bad enough to deserve the chaos he dragged around. So no, I wasn’t happy to see Mick, even if he was my… best friend… (SIGHS) …because it meant that this bad day was probably about to get a lot worse very, very quickly.

MICK: Wow, Jay, your eye is back! And it’s all kindsa crazy colors! It’s like a miracle or somethin’!

JUNO: Not a miracle, Mick, it’s a paycheck. New boss has deep pockets.

MICK: Getting paid in eyes! I’ll have to look into that… Now that I got a job! Ha-ha! Check this baby out! Pow!

JUNO: Alright, cute. Who’d you steal the badge from?

MICK: I took it… from the head guard of the Fortezza! When he handed it to me! After I applied for a job! And I interviewed!

JUNO: The Fortezza didn’t seriously hire you, did they—

MICK: And then the guy who got the job didn’t show up for work!

JUNO: Ah, there it is.

MICK: Ha-ha! You’re looking at the Fortezza’s newest guard: Officer Mick Mercury, King of Security! (LAUGHS)

SOUND: SLAP.

Ow! Hey, what was that for?

JUNO: A guard in the Fortezza?! Seriously?

MICK: Say it with your face, not your fists, buddy. I’ve already been battered and bruised enough for one day.

JUNO: Did the Proctor come after you?

MICK: No, I was just taking a nap in the closet while she was sleeping, and now my neck is all messed up.

SOUND: SLAP.

Ow! I said stop it!

JUNO: The hell were you thinking? This job is dangerous!

MICK: Yeah, well, that was the point.

JUNO: …What?

MICK: Well, look, I was thinkin’ about it, and… geez, Jay, I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but things never seem to work out for me.

JUNO: I don’t know, Mick, things looks like they’re going pretty well right now.

MICK: Exactly! I’m glad someone gets it. Anyway I was thinking about it and I thought, well, back in the day, things worked out all the time. You and me and Sasha, we’d get into all kinds of trouble, and it always turned out okay.

JUNO: Always?

MICK: Well, more than it does for me now. And then I thought about how things were working so well for you, with your saving people thing, and Sasha with her saving the galaxy thing, and then I thought – that’s what I’m missing!

JUNO: I– what?

MICK: You went from dangerous adventures as kids to dangerous adventures as adults, right? No wonder you’re so good at it – you practiced! Meanwhile, what’ve I done? Revolutionized the Martian calendar, made a couple good investments, or, they would have been good if they’d been a few decades earlier, but nothing dangerous! So if I wanna pull my life together, there’s clearly only one responsible thing to do.

JUNO: Get a real job.

MICK: A real dangerous job! Getting into trouble every day, and getting back out again! Just like the old days!

JUNO: Mick. Buddy, listen to me. I don’t say this lightly, now.

MICK: Word’s your bond, Jay; always liked that about you.

JUNO: But this might be the dumbest thing you’ve ever done.

MICK: Why? Oh, I get it. You think I’m not tough enough, is that it? You think I can’t handle it?

JUNO: Tough’s got nothing to do with—

MICK: Oh, no, I hear ya, I hear ya. Y-y-you just think I’m– I’m– I’m– I’m big, goofy, Mick Mercury, who never gets anything right. Is that it?

JUNO: No, Mick—

MICK: Well, I’m turnin’ over a new leaf, Jay. I'm flippin’ a new coin. I'm tossin’ a new pizza. I’m changin’ my whole life by unchanging everything.

JUNO: …What?

MICK: I’m gonna go back to Danger Boy, just like the old times. I been in this place barely three days, and already I’m braver and-and more confident than I’ve been in years—

SOUND: CLANKING.

(YELLS) Oh no! Please I don’t wanna die I don’t wanna dieeeeee!

JUNO: Damn it, Mick, keep it together. It’s just the…

…elevator – the elevator started back up again!

SOUND: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS.

MICK: Hey, w-wait up!

SOUND: SECOND SET OF RUNNING FOOTSTEPS.

JUNO: Come on, come on…

SOUND: MECHANICAL WHIRRING, CLANKING.

MICK: I really don’t like those sounds, Jay… I don’t know if I wanna get on an elevator that sounds like it can barely hold itself up.

JUNO: Look, you wanna be locked in here with her?

MICK: No, but I’m just saying I don’t like it!

JUNO: And I’m saying I don’t care whether or not you like it, ‘cause we’re getting on that goddamn elevator!

SOUND: SNAP. CABLES UNSPOOLING. DISTANT CRASH. DING.

MICK: Are we… still getting on the elevator?

JUNO: Just shut up, Mick.

MICK: Yeah okay I can do that.

SOUND: DISTANT LAUGHTER.

JUNO: Her! …She wants us to stick around and chat so bad? Well, let’s have a little chat, then!

MICK: Hey, I… I don’t think I’m supposed to let you do that!

Jay, buddy, listen to me!

SOUND: DOOR OPENS.

PROCTOR: Back again so soon?

JUNO: You must be pretty goddamn proud of yourself right now.

PROCTOR: It’s not an unpleasant feeling. (COUGH-LAUGHING)

JUNO: Let us out of here.

PROCTOR: You have some exams to pass first.

JUNO: Mick, open her door. If she isn’t going to let us out on her own, I’ll make her do it.

MICK: But– but– but they told me I wasn’t ever supposed to open the door to her cell until the day guard came by, because I haven’t had the walkaround training yet—

JUNO: If you don’t open this door I’m gonna tear it off its hinges with my bare hands.

MICK: But the bars are electrified! You’re gonna fry your brains out!

JUNO: Then plug your nose, Mercury, ‘cause you’re about to smell the brains a-fryin’.

MICK: Alright, alright! I’ll open the stupid door!

SOUND: KEYS JINGLING. GRUMBLING. DOOR CREAKS OPEN.

There!

JUNO: About time.

PROCTOR: (CHUCKLES)

JUNO: Alright, how are you operating all this, huh? You got a remote control under these sheets or something?

PROCTOR: Let me give you some test-taking advice, Mr. Steel…

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

JUNO: That’s it! Get out of that damn bed! Hah!

SOUND: WOODEN CLATTERING.

MICK: Oh no… ohhh no, ohhh no, ohhh no…

JUNO: You’ve gotta be kidding me.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I pulled her out of the bed to show her I meant business… but it might’ve backfired just a little. Because the body that hit the floor wasn’t a body at all.

PROCTOR (FROM COMMS): Always be sure to flip over the exam… just in case there are more questions on the other side. (COUGH-LAUGHING)

JUNO (NARRATOR): It was a mannequin, wearing a wig, a shortwave comms taped to its chest.

PROCTOR: (LAUGHING BECOMES STRONGER, CLEARER) It’s about time you passed Intro to Theater. The poor, sick old serial killer impression was murder on my throat. (LAUGHS) And to think, that’s just the beginning of tonight’s education! Aren’t you lucky.

SOUND: HINGE CREAKING, SOFT THUMP.

MICK: Ahh! What’s that? Are we gonna die? Are we gonna die???

JUNO (NARRATOR): Answer to question one: a trap door in the ceiling, with a rope ladder falling through. Answer to questions two and three: probably.

JUNO: You’ve really been busy in this cell, haven’t you? How’d you build all this stuff without the HCPD noticing?

PROCTOR: I’m really the one who does the asking here, Mr. Steel. Now untape the comms from the mannequin and take it with you up the ladder. You’ll need me up there.

JUNO: Why the hell should we listen to you?

PROCTOR: That’s where my test is – and passing my test is your only way out of the Fortezza.

JUNO: Someone will come looking for us eventually.

PROCTOR: Eventually. But before Ramses O’Flaherty’s speech in… two and a half hours? I doubt that very much. Now. Up the ladder.

MICK: If you’re goin’ up there I’m comin’ too, Jay. I’m not staying down here with… with… with her!

JUNO: That’s not even her, Mick. It’s a mannequin.

MICK: I know! And that’s so creepy!

JUNO: Fine. Let’s go, then.

SOUND: ROPES CREAKING.

MICK: (COUGHING) Wow, it’s dusty up here. Is this some kind of attic or something?

JUNO: Don’t really know. And I don’t really care. The important thing is that it’s our only way outta here, so stick close to me.

PROCTOR: Alright, gentlemen, here’s your first test for the evening: a unit test for Applied Chemistry.

MICK: A– a test? But I didn’t study!

JUNO: You’ve never studied for a test in your life, Mick.

MICK: Oh, hey, that’s right, I feel better now.

PROCTOR: Question one: during the War, Dr. Milla Veranov of the Outer Rim developed an incredibly deadly poison for interrogating enemy captives. What was it called?

JUNO: Ha, I do know that one! Hourglass Venom! Solved a case where it was the murder weapon last year, Proctor. You’ll have to do better than that.

PROCTOR: Very good. And how was it used for those interrogations?

JUNO: It’s a slow-acting poison with a fast-acting antidote. Inject the poison, and the person you’re questioning watches themselves dying, and the second they give up the intel, you can cure ‘em.

MICK: Ha! Nice one, Jay!

PROCTOR: Correct. And question three: where can Hourglass Venom be found right now?

MICK: Oh, I got this one! Outer Rim! You just said Outer Rim– oww!

SOUND: TWO AIRGUN BURSTS.

JUNO: Ow!

PROCTOR: Incorrect, I’m afraid. The correct answer was “in the syringes I’ve just shot into your necks.” Remember that on a multiple choice test some answers can be more correct than others.

MICK: Jay, Jay, J-J-J-Jay… I don’t like this…

JUNO: Oh, really?! I thought this was what you wanted, Mercury! Danger and getting into trouble and whatever!

MICK: Well, yeah, but I didn’t know danger would be so, y’know, dangerous!

PROCTOR: And that, gentlemen, concludes our Chemistry exam. Two out of three is a sixty-six – a passing grade. Barely.

JUNO: That wasn’t an exam! It was just a dumb set-up for your stupid poison!

PROCTOR: You can say the test was unfair if you like, but the numbers do not lie. I am your Proctor for the day, and you will take my exams, and you will succeed… if you want the Hourglass Antidote.

JUNO: (GROWLS)

PROCTOR: It sounds like you finally understand. Now, if you’ll allow me, we’ll be moving along to Contemporary Literature. Open your textbooks, please, to “The Ballad of Mick and Juno.”

MICK: Hey, that’s us!

JUNO: God damn it.

PROCTOR: Sing to me, oh Muse, of Juno Steel and Mick Mercury, two nobodies taken before their time, two friends tempted into shooting one another through the heart—

MICK: Wait, what?!

JUNO: Shh!

PROCTOR: —for great tests stood before them, and only time would tell whether they were to rise to the occasion as heroes… or follow their temptation to betrayal.

MICK: I’d never betray you, Jay. This’s gotta be a trick—

JUNO: Just shut up!

PROCTOR: The Proctor, ever generous and ever genius, could guarantee only this: if they completed her tests, they would surely be cured. But if, at any point they feared they might fail, another road was open to them—

MICK: Shoot my best buddy? No way, no way! Never even think about it.

MUSIC: STARTS.

PROCTOR: —if one shot the other through the heart, he would receive the antidote in an instant.

MICK: Okay, so I thought about it. But that doesn’t, y’know, mean anything, and anyway, what would I even shoot you with? Jay, this is crazy, I mean—

SOUND: TWO CLUNKS.

What are those?!

JUNO (NARRATOR): Two pistols fell from another trap door in the ceiling and clattered to the floor. They were old ones, big and brutal – bullets, not lasers. A death by one of these wouldn’t be easy.

PROCTOR: Sing, oh Muse, of these two seekers of knowledge! Would they betray one another to save their own hides… or stand together to the death?

JUNO (NARRATOR): In two and a half hours, Ramses would be dead. And when push came to shove, who was I gonna choose? The guy who wanted to rewrite this broken city and make it better for everyone, or… Mick Mercury, walking disaster?

The old Juno Steel, the guy who was worth something, the guy who got things done – he wouldn’t have needed to ask that. He would’ve just known. He would’ve done the right thing and hated himself for it. But… hell if I can tell you which one the right thing is.

MICK: I’ll never shoot you, Jay. And you’ll never shoot me, right?

…Jayjay?

JUNO: Of course not, Mick.

Just keep in mind, that’s probably what she wants us to think.

MICK: (MOANS)

PROCTOR: Now sharpen your pencils and take your seats, Mr. Steel, Mr. Mercury. Your exams begin… now. (MANIACAL LAUGHTER)

MUSIC: ENDS.

***

SOUND: TRAIN MOVING, MUSIC.

CONDUCTOR: If you've enjoyed this tale, please consider donating to The Penumbra on Patreon. Our artists work tirelessly to bring you these stories, and if you have the means, we hope you will support our efforts. Every dollar helps. You can find that page at patreon.com/thepenumbrapodcast. If you support us on Patreon at the $10 level or higher, you will receive access to commentary tracks like this one, from Noah Simes and actors Allison Choat and Stefano Perti:

SOUND: TRAIN STOPS, DOOR SLIDES OPEN, RAIN.

ALLISON: …Uh, I said, “well you should just, sort of, y’know, if you could just kind of casually mention that I do some voice acting. Um, if you could just– if it comes up, that you could bring up that I do multiple voices, and that I’m, y’know, sort of, really a lot of emotional investment in the show, uh, just desperate—”

NOAH: —just sort of casually mention my, like, deep well of talent…

ALLISON: Yeah– yeah, y’know, like if it– no, like, if it– if it comes up, say that I’m the best person you've ever worked with, on a microphone. Um, just slip it in, casually. Um, and I think that he, he must have—

NOAH: (LAUGHS)

ALLISON: —um, very casually, because…

SOUND: DOOR SLIDES SHUT.

CONDUCTOR: You can also support The Penumbra by liking us on Facebook, following us on Twitter @thepenumbrapod, following us on Tumblr @thepenumbrapodcast, telling your friends about us, telling your friends to tell their friends about us, and especially by rating and reviewing our podcast on iTunes. Every rating, comment, and kind word spreads our stories further and inspires us to keep creating more and better tales to come.

We would like to give special thanks to all who support us on Patreon, but especially to Jaimie Gunter, The Princess and the Scrivener, Hannah Tsim, and Elizabeth Miller for their incredibly generous contributions per episode. Thank you.

This tale, Juno Steel and the Lesson Learned, was told by the following people: Joshua Ilon as Juno Steel, Matthew Zahnzinger as Ramses O’Flaherty, Allison Choat as the Proctor, and Stefano Perti as Mick Mercury.

On staff at The Penumbra: Kevin Vibert is our lead writer and recording engineer. Sophie Kaner is our director and sound designer. Grahame Turner is our script editor. Noah Simes is our production manager. Alice Chung is our designer and financial manager. Original music by Ryan Vibert. Promotional art by Mikaela Buckley.

The Penumbra is created and produced by Sophie Kaner and Kevin Vibert.

I'm afraid this is the end of the line for today, dear Traveler. We hope you will ride with The Penumbra again soon.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

[alya-bug]

The Best Kind of Friends Chapter 6

Chat Noir finds himself falling for Alya, who loves Marinette, who is just confused. Relationship shenanigans ensue.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Ao3

Chapter 6: Marinette is super bi.

“So, tell me all the deets.” Alya said with a laugh as she leaned over to steal a piece of Marinette’s pastry and pop it in her mouth. “You didn’t tell me anything about the movie date.”

Marinette blushed, watching Alya as she licked the sugar off of her fingers. “There weren’t really any deets, frankly. We watched the movie and talked about it as he walked me home. He seemed a little distracted actually.”

Alya rolled her eyes. “Distracted by your beauty, probably.”

Marinette laughed. “Sure, whatever you say.” She watched as Alya sipped her coffee. Alya looked really pretty today, her reddish brown curls piled on her head in a messy bun. Marinette kept getting distracted as she watched the curls bounce as Alya moved her head.

“Seriously!” Alya insisted, gesturing with her cup. “I think he is finally starting to notice you!”

Marinette waved her hand dismissively. “It’s been three years. What are the chances he is going to suddenly fall in love with me now?” She took a drink of her cafe au lait, savoring the warm milky taste. It was spring, but still slightly cold as they sat outside the cafe, so warm drinks were appreciated.

“I think they’re very high. Anyone would fall in love with you.” Alya bit into her own pastry with finality. She was so confident in her convictions. Even when they were ridiculous, like now.

“Mmhmm, whatever you say.” Marinette mumbled over the rim of her mug. She wished she had Alya’s confidence in this. She had liked Adrien for so long with no development that she felt like it was hopeless at this point.

“Come on. Let’s overanalyze everything he said and did.” Alya weedled her with such a cute grin it was hard to resist. “I’ll tell you about how Chat came to visit me again last night.”

“He did?” Marinette ignored the way her heart jumped slightly at the sound of Chat’s name. Yet another thing she had thoroughly repressed. “Did you get that smooch?”

Alya laughed and the familiar warmth filled Marinette’s chest. She loved Alya’s laugh. “No, but I told him that I would kiss him if he wanted me to.”

“Seriously?” Marinette shook her head, grinning at Alya’s bluntness. “What did he say?”

Alya’s smile faded slightly. “He ran out the window as fast as he could.”

“That ass!” She furrowed her eyebrows in annoyance. She was going to have to have a talk with him. Who in their right mind would ever give up the chance to kiss Alya?

“It’s okay!” Alya assured her with a laugh. “I kind of sprung it on him really suddenly. I think he was just flustered. He’s actually pretty shy.”

She snorted. Chat was not normally shy. But she had always suspected he was better at dishing it out than taking it, especially when it came to flirting. “So what’s actually going on with you two.”

“Nothing yet.” Alya blushed, her brown skin taking on a pretty reddish tint. “But I think I want something to happen?”

“Ohhh!” Marinette grinned, nudging her best friend. “If I know you, you’re going to make it happen.” If Marinette’s laugh was slightly forced, she was sure Alya didn’t notice.

“Girl, you know it.” Alya laughed and waved her hand dismissively, but Marinette could tell her blush had deepened. She must really like Chat.

The conversation moved on, but the background feeling of discomfort stayed with her until the two girls parted ways.

She just wasn’t sure how the idea of Alya and Chat getting together made her feel.  She was torn between feeling happy for her two best friends for finding each other and this other feeling. It wasn’t jealousy. It wasn’t like she wanted Chat to not date Alya and date her instead. But it was similar. It was that aching feeling that she remembered getting when she was younger and her friends would make plans without her. Even if they didn’t have bad intention, it never felt good to feel left out. But that was silly. It wasn’t like she could be a part of their relationship. She was probably just worried about them both being too busy for her or something normal like that. Because it wasn’t like she wanted to date either Alya or Chat. She liked Adrien.

She was still trying to convince herself of that hours later as she struggled with her homework.

“Maybe you like them too?” Tikki suggested, after hours of listening to her chosen complain.  

“That’s ridiculous.” Marinette shook her head emphatically. “I can’t like multiple people. I like Adrien.”

Tikki sighed, tired of arguing the obvious. Marinette had been in denial of her feelings for Alya for years, no matter how many times Tikki encouraged her to consider what was right in front of her. Marinette was still young and didn’t understand that love could manifest in many ways, sometimes with multiple people.

“Maybe I should visit Adrien?” Marinette suggested, suddenly animated.

“Tomorrow?” Tikki smiled. “That’s like a wonderful idea!”

“No, tonight.” Marinette got up and started pacing excitedly. “If Chat can do it, why can’t I?”

“I guess there is no reason not to. . .” Tikki was hesitant, knowing this could end poorly.

“Great!” Marinette’s smile was too wide to be entirely natural as she bounced on her heels. “Spots on!”

In the few minute that it took to get to Adrien’s house, Ladybug was starting to have doubts. What if he wasn’t home? Would it be weird for her to just knock on his window? Maybe she should go back.

No. She was already too close. And if Chat could visit Alya, then she could visit Adrien. It was only fair.

She landed resultly on his windowsill, peering inside. His back was to the window, working on his computer, headphones in his ears, the book they had been working on in Literature open on his desk.

Determined, she knocked.

He didn’t react and she cursed the inventor of headphones. She tried again.

Still nothing.

She tried waving her arms, hoping he would see her in the reflection of his computer screen.

No such luck.

Damn Adrien and his studious nature!

Ladybug sighed. Maybe this was a sign that his was a bad idea. Why was she even here? To prove to herself that she liked Adrien? That was dumb, of course she liked him. One look at the back of his blond head was enough to remind her of that. Seeing him made her see happy.

And yeah, seeing Alya also made her feel happy but that was . . . different. Probably. Definitely.

As she was pondering, Adrien spun around in his chair, stretching.  He made eye contact with her mid-yawn and jumped out of his feet, rushing towards the window.

“Ladybug!” He opened the window quickly, a nervous grin on his face. “Come in! What are you doing here?”

Her heart was pounding in her chest. “I can’t stay.” She knew that would be a bad idea. “I’m just checking in on you because . . . that akuma targeted you.”

Adrien’s face scrunched up in confusion. “There hasn’t been an akuma after me for a few months at least.”

Damn, had it been that long? “I know, it’s just that you have been targeted a high number of times and I decided to make sure you’re still doing okay. We have to make sure you feel safe and all that.” Ladybug was proud of her quick thinking. It was not exactly a lie. She was worried about him.

Adrien smiled. Her heart clenched at the happiness in his expression. He was just so attractive! “Thank you so much. I always feel safe with you and Chat around.”

The sincerity in his voice made her blush and she knew she had to get out of there before she did something stupid. “G-great. That is great. We want you safe. Gotta go.” She grabbed her yoyo to make a hasty retreat.

“Wait!”

She looked back before she jumped. Adrien was leaning out of the window. “Thank you for visiting.”

“No problem. I’d do this for any citizen. It’s my job.” Giving him an awkward pat on the head, she tried not to linger over how soft his hair would be to feel with her bare hands. She jumped away before she embarrassed herself further.

Ladybug waited until she was a few blocks away before she stopped to take a breath. She couldn’t stop grinning. The whole visit was a stupid wonderful mess and she was so glad she decided to do it. There was no doubt of her crush on Adrien.

As she swung through the city back home, she hesitated near Alya’s house. She could visit her too. The temptation filled her, but she resisted. Alya already had one superhero visiting her. He might be visiting her right now. Three’s a crowd, after all.

She tried not to be disappointed in her decision as she moved swiftly through the night.

[fluffyllamas-23]

Yes, hello, hi, it’s @taylor-tut‘s birthday, and she deserves all of the happiness and celebration in the world. 

Paisley feels like she’s on the verge of a mental breakdown. School and work have been hectic, leaving her with little to no time to sleep, and she’s exhausted.  To top it all off, Logan, who keeps her sane, is away for a week and a half on a family camping trip. He had asked if she wanted to come, but as much as it sucked to say no, she couldn’t afford to spend that much time without service. So, she and Ashton decided to use this time to finally hang out, because it’s been way too long since they’d actually spent time together.

~

The week had come and gone, and before Paisley knows it, it’s eight PM on a Friday night, and she’s ready to forget all of her responsibilities and just relax. Lord knows she needs it.  

She walks through their apartment, and Ashton, who’s been waiting for this moment for the last twenty minutes, launches herself onto Paisley’s back.

“Yo, Logan is great and all…but I’ve missed you, and that butthead has been stealing you from me,” Ashton says, wrapping her arms around Paisley’s neck.  

“Ashton, you fat ass, get off,” Paisley grunts, staggering under Ashton’s weight.

“I am not fat, you jerk. Anyways,” she says, climbing off of Paisley, “did you read the email she sent us.”

“Who’s ‘she'?” Paisley asks, rubbing her eyes tiredly.

“Um…the um…the landlady,” Ashton says, gesturing wildly.

Paisley raises a brow, “dude, we’ve lived here how long, and you still refer to Jackie as ‘the landlady’?”

“…In my defense you know I’m bad with names. Whatever, did you read the email she sent us?”

“No…haven’t had time. What’d it say?”

“There’s gonna be construction for the next few days and they might have to cut the power.”

“Great,” Paisley groans.  

“Yeah…it sucks…okay, off topic, but can we please have a girls’ night? I bought wine.”

Paisley grins, “um, yes.”

Ashton’s face lights up, “I have face masks too! Oh! Oh! Oh! WE NEED TO GO TO THE STORE!”

Paisley’s eyes widen, “WHAT, WHY? AND WHY ARE WE YELLING?”

“Because we need to go raid Target.”

“Um,” Paisley blinks, stifling a yawn, “not sure why that required yelling, but alright. What do we need at Target?”

Ashton grins, “junk food. ALL of it.”

“Yes.  Perfect, who’s driving?”

“I will, you look dead on your feet, dude.”

“I’m just a little tired.”

Ashton narrows her eyes, “when’s the last time you’ve even slept?”

“Um…it’s been a day…or two…I can’t remember.”

“Paisley.”

“What? I had papers to write.”

Ashton rolls her eyes, “let’s just go, you ready?”

~

Paisley and Ashton are cuddled up to each other, shivering beneath a pile of blankets.  The power had gone out an hour and a half ago, and taken the heat with it, so they were watching Netflix on Paisley’s laptop.  Open bags of chips and candy are scattered on the coffee table and floor, their half-empty glasses of wine have been abandoned in favor of staying completely covered by the blanket.

“We shoulda bought a space heater or s-something,” Ashton shivers.

Paisley scrunches her nose, sniffling slightly before she ducks her head into the blankets, “Ihn’gstch! N’gstch! *snff* Mmm…yeah, I agree…s’cold.”

“Bless you…you okay? You’ve been sniffling all night.”

Paisley nods and nuzzles her face into the blanket with a sniffle, “it’s just cold…s’messing with my sinuses.”

“You mean you're sick.”

“Um, no. That’s not what I meant.”

Ashton rolls her eyes, Paisley has been sounding like she was coming down with something for a few days now, and she’s sure that this is just going to kickstart whatever it is.

“Dude, you’re sick.”

“No…s’just cold,” Paisley murmurs sleepily, drooping over until she’s curled up on the couch and completely covered by the blankets.

“Alright…well, you should go to…” Ashton pulls the blankets down past Paisley’s face and she chuckles lightly when she sees that Paisley’s already fast asleep. “Well, you lasted longer than I thought you would,”  Ashton whispers, patting Paisley’s shoulder fondly before turning her attention back to the screen.  

The sound of a jackhammer yanks Ashton from her sleep, it’s still dark out, but she has no idea what time it is.  She looks down, expecting Paisley to be up and awake, because she’s the lightest sleeper on the planet.  

Except, Paisley is still fast asleep in the same position she fell asleep in, and Ashton feels a spike of panic when she realizes that Paisley is probably dead. That’s really the only reason why the construction work hadn’t woken her up yet.  

Or…

Ashton hesitantly feels Paisley’s cheek, and then inhales sharply at rolling heat that meets the back of her fingers.

“Dude, dude, dude, dude,” Ashton says, shaking Paisley, “wake up.”

After a few moments, Paisley groans weakly and attempts to bat Ashton’s hand away.  

“Go ‘way…mb’sleepind’.”

“Are you okay?” Ashton asks, sitting up.

Paisley shivers, and grimaces at the sharp pounding in her head, “umb…c-cand I have s-sombe Advil?”

“You’re sick.”

“I’mb just t…heh…hih’ngxcht! Nngsh! *snff* ohhh…mby heeeeead,” she moans, coughing lightly.

“That’s the fever,” Ashton says, eyebrows knitting together, “you sound awful.”

“I have to study,” Paisley groans, her face crumpling as she stifles another trio of congested sneezes.

“You have a fever. You need to sleep.”

“I’mb sure it’s ndot that high.”

Ashton quirks a brow and holds a thermometer up, “I’m about to call your bluff.”

Paisley frowns, “where’d that combe fromb?”

“…I just went and grabbed it. You stared at me while I was getting it, too.”

“I…huh?”

“Damn, how high is it?” Ashton hisses, sticking the thermometer in her ear.  

“Ash?”

“Yes?”

“I dond’t feel well…I wandt Logand…he mbakes everythindg better,” Paisley sniffles, squeezing her eyes shut.

“I know,” Ashton sighs, and stares at the thermometer, “and I know that a one hundred and-whoa…I know a one hundred and three degree fever can’t feel good…but hey, you have me.  I’ll get you better.”

“Everythindg hurts,” Paisley mumbles.

“How about some medicine?”

“How ‘bout and axe to the head?”

“Sorry, dude.  No can do.”

Paisley hides her head under the pillow with a tired groan.  

Paisley is sitting up on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket as she blinks tiredly at Ash.  She insists on studying, although Ash isn’t sure why.  

“Are you sure about this? You should definitely be sleeping right now.”

She sniffles and rubs her eyes.  She blinks once, “what?”

“Alright, how exactly do you plan on studying when you can hardly focus on our conversation?”

She grins lazily after a beat, “you’re goindg to help…will you? Umb…help me, I mbeand.”

“You already asked.”

“…I did?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Oh…sorry.”

Paisley watches Ashton through heavy lids as she struggles to stay awake.

“It’s okay…just…I’m going to get everything set up, and then I’ll make you some tea, and we’ll get started, yeah?”

“Okay…that sounds like a pland…but…uh…” black dots dance in her vision, and she squeezes her eyes shut with a weak shake of her head.

“Paisley?” Ashton frowns, pressing her hand to her friend’s forehead, “you okay?”

“Mb’finde…dizzy.”

Paisley sounds like she’s just barely hanging onto consciousness, her words are slurring together and it sounds like her tongue is sticking to the rood of her mouth.

“Alright, it’s bed time.”

Paisley blinks heavily, her expression slowly changing into one of rage.  Except, the rage is muted by her glassy, fever bright eyes and bright red flush across her cheeks.  

“You said you’d help mbe study.”

“Yeah, and that was before you looked like you were about to pass the hell out.  Come on, you need to sleep.  You can study when you’re feeling better.”

“I-“

“-I swear to God that if you don’t lie down and sleep, I will tie you to your fucking bed.”

Paisley sighs and drops down on her side, tugging the blanket tighter around her shoulders,  “I’mb just gonnda ndap…wake mbe up ind like…twendty mbindutes.”

“Okay,” Ashton says, not wanting to argue with her.  

She has no plans on waking Paisley up though, and instead she tucks her in and pats her burning cheek gently before getting up and walking into the kitchen.

[rensfic]

Coming to Save You, Part IV

Everything seemed greyer and yet maybe a little greener than the last time he saw it, and there was a sickly color to the sky, an unholy greenish yellow tinge. Buildings had collapsed, and so had many of the overhead freeways. Wrecked cars jammed the streets and entire families of skeletons sat inside their cars.

Peter wondered if they knew they were going to die in their cars, and if the parents had to watch their children die or the other way around. There were newer, fresher bodies too, and a thick layer of grime on every surface he could see. Some of the bodies looked wrinkled and pocked, and for a moment he thought of Wade Wilson, the man who lived forever His heart skipped Maybe Wade was alive somewhere. If anyone could survive the apocalypse, it would be him, but in a city this big and with no working cars it would be difficult and dangerous to do that.

Suddenly, one of the wrinkled bodies growled and started moving. Peter let out a little shout and jumped, attacking immediately without even thinking about it. Another started to get up. Zombies. He was in a literal, actual zombie apocalypse. He couldn’t believe he was already the side character in The Walking Dead  who gets killed the first episode to demonstrate how deadly and horrible the world had become. No, he absolutely could believe it; he was, after all, Peter Parker.

Well, fine. He could do this. First thing would probably need to be shelter. It suddenly dawned on him that that was why those men had been in the vault in the first place-- they must have killed some unlucky vault dweller and gotten into the vault for shelter and food. For a few moments he wished fervently that he could crawl back down into the vault too and just live there until he died. And then he heard gunshots and a woman screaming. Going back to the vault was not an option.

Running immediately, he skidded to a stop in time to witness a pair of women menacing another woman and her child. He swung out at one of the women, placing himself physically between the attackers and their targets.

“Playin’ hero, huh?” One of the women sneered at him, laughing and raising some kind of small pistol. “I’ve fought ones like you before.”

“Not likely,” he said through gritted teeth, moving with lightning fast speed to her left to throw her aim off. She started, then turned to try to track him, as the other woman brought her knife up. It wasn’t hard to disarm them. War hadn’t changed, not even in the years he’d apparently been asleep. With a few more blows he sent them to the ground, unconscious. The world might be full of the dead, but Peter wasn’t going to make any more. There was hope for them yet. There was still hope, as long as he was alive.

But now he had to take care of the woman and her child, both of whom were weeping when he turned to them.

“Thank you,” she whispered, holding her son. “People like you don’t last long out here, though. Be careful. There’s a settlement a little ways north we’re trying to go to. You should join us.”

“I-- can’t. But… I will later. I have others who will need a settlement eventually. And if what I’m seeing is right, you’re going to need more protection. How many of these guys are there out here, anyway?”

“Raiders, you mean?”

“Is that what they’re called?”

“Yeah. Anyone who bullies people instead of working for their food is a raider. Then you’ve got mercenaries, there are a few gangs of those around. Lots of raider gangs. Sometimes smaller and don’t got gang names, maybe four or five in a group. Then there’re the bigger ones. The Mad Dogs are the big ones around here, started up in upper side and then spread. Their headquarters are in one of the old places in Venger, I think they used’ta call ‘em museums? In one of the museums. Met Museum. That one. With all the statues.”

“The Metropolitan Museum of Art?”

“Sure. I dunno.”

“And what’s Venger?”

“This island is.” She pointed up at Avengers tower, which was now missing a few letters. Now it just read VENGER. “People call it that ‘cause that’s the tallest place on it.”

“...Right. Uh, what year is it, by the way?”

“Year?”

“You know… loops of winter.”

“Ohhh. Twenty three since I was born, and I was born the year that the Gunners from Boston started a chapter out here.”

“But how many since, since the bombs fell?”

“Since the Great War? I dunno. Lots. Nobody I know remembers it, nobody living was there for it.”

Peter swallowed. “Someone must know.”

“Sometimes on the computers they say it’s the year 2283. The ones that’re still working, anyway.”

“Ohhhh.” Two hundred years. His knees felt weak. “Thanks. What’s your name, anyway?”

“Peachie. And this is Sam.”

“It’s nice to meet you. I gotta go find my people now. Thanks for the info.”

“Sure. Thanks for saving our lives.”

With a little worry, Peter parted from the woman, and decided to head into the tower itself. If he was going to become Spider-Man again, and it sounded like the city really needed it, he would need at least one of his costumes, and the last time he had known where they were, they had been up in the tower. But if some of the computers and old power systems were still up, it was a good bet that the security in the tower was still running, so there was a chance that everything was still where he had left it.

Stepping up to the front doors, Peter found the eye and thumb scanners, and adjusted to them, stopping his blinking and putting his hand down on the gel pad. “Peter Parker,” he said, loudly and clearly, and after a few moments of whirring, he heard the lock thud heavily and the hinges on the doors creak as they opened in front of him.

“Welcome, Peter Parker,” the cool female voice said, and he breathed a sigh of relief. The place was still running. He could smell dust and mold inside, but that was fine. He could clean the place up once he got his things and did a once-over on the security. He could see turrets on the ceilings, and they seemed to still be running, which was a relief.

It was like a place that would be haunted. Crumbling walls, dirt and decay, and only a few remnants that he could recognize as the former glory of the tower. The front desk, with-- oh, God, that was the skeleton of Mrs. Chambers, their old receptionist-- a few chairs, couches, computers… coffee mugs… he walked toward the elevators. Even the elevators blinked, apparently running after all these years. He didn’t trust two hundred year old elevators that hadn’t been serviced this entire time, so he walked behind them to the stairs.

His room was almost exactly the same as when he left it. A few holes in the walls and floor, sure, but his web-spinners were still there, and so were all of his costumes. He had four now, so he could change between washes, and they were all nice and high-tech. He grabbed them. Should he stay here from here on? Here in the tower, it might make a good base. It would depend on how well the cells had survived. If he couldn’t use them, he would move to the Tombs and check on the cells there. He needed someplace to keep the raiders he captured. He wouldn’t kill anyone, but he couldn’t allow them to run around hurting people anymore.

The tower cells were dirty, but otherwise in good shape. He’d need to cover over a few of the holes with concrete, do some fixing of the plumbing, things like that, but they would suffice. He’d start with these and then move to the Tombs for extra room if he needed it. He flipped the switches at the end of the hall a few times, making sure they worked, and he watched the doors coming up and down at his touch. This would be perfect. He turned and left, and embarked on his second coming of Spider-Man.

[netflixmess]

By The Fader .

In Oslo, weekend nights are everything.

That’s partly because of Norway’s strict liquor laws, and also the general social drinking culture, which both tend to encourage weekend binges. People of all ages are normally reserved during the week, keeping their heads down as they go to class and to work, rarely speaking to strangers. Come Friday, though, all bets are off.

In early October 2016, a weekend party was in full swing, at a nice flat with tall ceilings in Grünerløkka, a cool neighborhood in central Oslo. Young, good-looking people were drinking and laughing, talking and flirting. Music was playing loudly — a bass-heavy Norwegian pop song, or maybe something by an American rapper.

At one point, someone started shouting, and asked for the music to be turned down. If this was a bad movie, there might have been a record scratch sound. Following a couple seconds of chaos, it became clear what was happening: a new Skam clip had been posted to the internet. “Oh my God!” someone screamed. “I’m not prepared,” said another. Within minutes, someone had pulled it up on their phone, and the party fell silent for the whole segment, as if collectively hypnotized. Anyone who tried to speak was swiftly shut down. There were no objections: it was time to watch.

That’s exactly how it went down, at least according to Erlend, a scruffy 25-year-old who works in the Norwegian music industry. He lives in Oslo, a.k.a. the birthplace of Skam, a ridiculously popular coming-of-age drama series that depicts the lives of fictional local teenagers. Even though it’s only been around since 2015, Skam, which is produced by NRK, a government-owned public broadcaster, and the biggest media company in Norway, is one of the most adored programs in the nation’s history, with about a quarter of the four million-person population watching each clip. It might also be one of the best TV shows about high school ever made.

Skam, which means “shame” in Norwegian, is released in real-time, with zero warning. If a scene takes place at school on a Tuesday afternoon, the clip goes up on the show’s website Tuesday afternoon. If it takes place at one in the morning at a Saturday night house party, like the first scene of the third season, which Erlend and his friends watched together last year, then it’s uploaded on a Saturday night. At week’s end, the clips, which vary in length but are rarely longer than 15 minutes, are rolled into a single “episode,” which airs on television. For now, if you live outside Scandinavia, the only way to watch Skam is illegally, via fan blogs who upload the episodes, usually to Google Drive or YouTube, and write their own subtitles. In other words: they’re doing God’s work.

Every season of Skam follows a different student at Hartvig Nissen, a real public school in Oslo, where a few of the show’s main actors are actively enrolled. The first season tracks Eva, a nervous, big-hearted 16-year-old who starts high school on the outs from her old clique. Noora, a headstrong feminist who strikes up an unlikely romance up with an older, brawl-starting ladies’ man named William, is at the center of Season 2. Season 3, which aired in the final months of 2016, is all about Isak, a baby-faced teen coming to terms with his sexuality. The fourth season, which began airing the second week of April, is about Sana, a muslim teen who always speaks her mind. The day the trailer dropped, it was announced on Instagram that Sana’s season would be the show’s final one.

Though it’s entirely scripted, Skam is good at blurring the lines between drama and reality. The characters (not the actors) have their own Instagram accounts, which are updated in time with the events of the show, and their fictional text messages, written by 27-year-old web producer Mari Magnus, are posted on the Skam site between clips. Sometimes a short conversation between two characters can stir up more suspense for viewers than a whole episode. The Skam team — headed up by director, screenwriter, and all-around mastermind Julie Andem, 34 — doesn’t allow the cast to do interviews often, partly because they are actually very young, but also because they want to safeguard the show’s tightly wound universe, to preserve the illusion that these characters could almost be real.

Andem, who declined to be interviewed for this piece, doesn’t do very much press either, especially outside of Scandinavia. This strategy has created an uncommonly intense relationship between the show and its audience. Fans invest in the characters' lives as if they were their friends, refreshing frantically, waiting for a clip or a text message as if their own life depended on it. Soap operas have long provided people around the world an escape from everyday traumas. Skam is helping people cope in a new way, by making the real world a more exciting place to be. Of course it’s all just pretend, but sometimes you need to make believe if you want to feel something real.

Oslo is frigid in March, and it snows a lot — gently, on and off. For someone whose first window into Norwegian culture was watching Skam bootlegs, exploring the city is kind of like walking through a film set. Bus stops, icy parks, a line of cottages on a slanted street. Everything looks familiar, but in an uncanny sort of way. It’s clean and quiet, especially on weeknights. It’s small, too, presenting itself as its own self-contained little universe, like the inside of a snow globe.

Every person I speak to in Oslo, from the noodle-limbed checkout guy at the corner store to a middle-aged festival organizer visiting from Denmark, knows what Skam is, and most of them have seen it. When I finally meet someone who seemed to know nothing about it — my Airbnb host, a lawyer in her early 30s — it’s actually just a mixup. “Ohhh, I thought you said Scandal or something,” she says, laughing. “I love Skam. I’ve seen every episode.”

No one expected it to get this massive, at least not according to Andreas Blaauw-Hval, a 32-year-old NRK communications manager who, along with his colleague Nathalie Sprus, handles all P.R. for the show. They’re the gatekeepers of the Skam universe, fielding calls from reporters all over the world on a daily basis, and saying “no” to nearly everything. “I think a lot of journalists, and our colleagues in the TV business, find this kind of arrogant,” Blaauw-Hval says. “But it's for the best of the series.”

Sprus and Blaauw-Hval are sitting in a plain-looking coffee shop in Frogner, a pretty neighborhood that feels upscale, but not in an ostentatious way. The café appeared in an episode of Skam once, and it’s just a couple blocks from the high school at which a big bulk of the show is filmed. “It's important to emphasize that the strategy was made before anyone knew how big it would be,” Blaauw-Hval says. “Our job is to try to maintain it, to keep it low-key and exclusive.”

It’s all just pretend, but sometimes you need to make believe if you want to feel something real.

When the show was launched in 2015, it was part of NRK’s attempt to connect with older Norwegian teens who seemed to spend most of their time on Netflix, or caught up in their own lives. Its creator, Julie Andem, who’d previously worked on Jenter, an NRK show for tweens with a similar short-burst real-time release format, was meticulous about accuracy from the get-go. She spent months traveling around and interviewing Norwegian teenagers about everything: sex, drugs, dating, their friends, their fears, their dreams. A lot of the show’s characters were loosely based on real people she met, or composites of several.

Next they started auditions, sitting with 1,200 kids born between 1996 and 2000. “At first people weren’t that interested,” Andem explained in 2016, during a rare TV interview that someone translated and posted on YouTube, in which she comes across as stern but likable. “NRK hadn’t made anything for [older teens], so they were skeptical,” she said. The cast they eventually settled on included a couple locally known child actors, but was dominated by amateur young nobodies, whose raw performances help elevate Skam to greatness. When 19-year-old Lisa Teige, who plays Eva, stresses out over a Facebook message to a potential new friend, it feels not just real, but true.

When it came time to release the first clip, Andem and her team, which includes producer Marianne Furevold-Boland, shared the link with tastemakers from the audition pool, as well as the cast. “The producers wanted the kids to find the series themselves,” says Nathalie Sprus from NRK, 31, who has brown hair with highlights and is almost always smiling. “Their worst nightmare was that a parent would read a news article about ‘this new cool show for kids’ and recommended it to theirs.” Furevold-Boland says this unorthodox, rumor-based strategy “creates loyalty, and a feeling of unity and ownership among teens,” adding that despite its unprecedented success with viewers of all ages, Skam is still made with its teenage target audience in mind.

“I watch Skam because I can relate, to the people and to the parties,” says Henrik, a beer-drunk 21-year-old, in a tented bar beside a church turned concert venue. He speaks in a nasally drawl, like an extra from a Nordic remake of Dazed & Confused. He tells me about russefeiring, the extremely Norwegian tradition in which crews of graduating high schoolers literally purchase a bus to party on for a couple weeks during their final semester. The celebrations, which start after the students turn 18 and can thus can guzzle beer legally, happen all over Norway, but are a huge deal in Oslo specifically. Henrik says kids here often make plans for “russ time” years in advance. Groups have recruited pop singers to record official theme songs for their bus; a bus might spend up to $17,000 USD on music alone, an Oslo-based English-language newspaper reported in 2014.

Russ is a big plot point in Skam. Eva joins a “bus” after her skater boyfriend Jonas encourages her to make new friends. Her search leads her to Noora, a poised new girl with a thing for red lipstick; Vidle, a Type A, russ-obsessed neurotic; Sana, a smart, snarky Muslim teen; and Chris, an unrestrained goofball behind some crucial moments of comic relief. Neither cool nor explicitly uncool, they’re the sort of relatable misfits you can’t help but cheer for. “Just acknowledge that we’re losers,” Sana says to the girls during a russ meeting in the first season. “So you think you’re a loser yourself?” Vidle aks, visibly perturbed. Sana responds: “I'm a Muslim girl in a faithless country — I'm the biggest loser of them all.”

The russ subplot is mostly on the back burner in Season 3, which tells the story of Isak, a confused, self-hating teenager played by a gifted 17-year-old named Tarjei Sandvik Moe, one of the actors who attends Hartvig Nissen in real life. While the earlier seasons hinted that Isak was grappling with something, his sexuality comes to the forefront in this one, which traces his messy romance with Even, a hip, handsome classmate with secrets of his own. All of Skam is gorgeously executed, but it’s Season 3 that feels like straight-up perfect television; you’d be hard pressed to find a more authentic depiction of young queer love. Isak’s realizations, about the tricky business of loving yourself enough to care for someone else too, never feel forced. They come slowly, with lots of help from friends, in a way that feels heartbreakingly true-to-life.

“I think the third season has a really relevant and really clear theme,” explains Elise By Olsen, the 17-year-old editor of an Oslo youth culture magazine called Recens Paper, one afternoon at an indoor food market on the Akerselva river's western bank. Olsen, who is something of a budding fashion icon in Norway, is a big believer that teenagers are more capable than adults give them credit for, and says that she wishes more young people were actively involved in the day-to-day production of Skam. She says she didn’t get into watching the show live until Season 3, which impressed her by tackling issues of sexuality and mental health. “It sort of normalized this stuff, which is quite rare here in Norway,” she explains. Olsen is also friends with some of the cast, including Henrik Holm, who plays Even. “One time he tagged me in a photo and I got, like, 2,000 new followers,” she says.

In Season 2, Noora and William’s will-they-won’t-they arc helped grow the show’s audience, particularly within Norway, but it was the Even and Isak love story that took Skam to the next level. Some truly adorable screenshots of the boys cuddling went viral on Tumblr, which led people across the globe to investigate where it had come from. Now, Skam’s is one of the more voracious TV fandoms in recent memory; in March, Isak and Even came first in E! Online’s fan-picked “TV's Top Couple” contest, by winning millions of votes from fans across the world. “Not bad for a Google Drive show,” one English-speaking stan account tweeted in celebration. “That they managed to win the poll proves there's a very strong engagement,” says Norwegian academic Vilde Schanke Sundet, who has a PhD in television studies from the University of Oslo. “The Norwegians cannot vote alone — you need to get your fan community organized,” she continues. Sundet, who’s working on a post-doctoral study about Skam, says the discourse within the fan community actually mirrors the tone of show, tackling serious topics in a respectful way. There’s a comment section under each official clip, too. “You can check it almost like a newspaper, or your Facebook,” Sundet says.

Part of what makes Skam feel like a news feed is its tight production schedule. According to producer Furevold-Boland, there’s a very short time between idea and execution, which “creates a great energy among the team members,” and also allows the show to respond to real events as they happen. Season 4 will do that by focusing on Sana, who is played confidently by 20-year-old hijabi actress Iman Meskini. “The point was to make a character that chooses her own relation to her religion,” Andem said in that interview on YouTube. “She has strong faith, but she doesn’t need to relate to the whole package the culture is trying to push on her.”

Sana introduces a lot of lofty ideas to Skam, often schooling her friends by offering a different perspective — adding important context to their private dramas without ever diminishing them. “War doesn’t start with violence, it starts with misunderstanding and prejudice,” she tells Noora, whose rigid ideals are challenged throughout the show. “If you say you’re in favor of a world full of peace you actually have to try to understand why others think and act the way they do.”

Despite her typically prickly exterior, Sana has a romantic side, and is an intensely loyal friend. Fans are excited about her season because, from a narrative standpoint, there’s still a lot left to learn about her. But her story feels especially meaningful now, as conversations around islamophobia and xenophobia have never been more urgent, in Scandinavia and beyond. The same day NRK released the trailer for Season 4, a suspected terrorist attack in Stockholm killed four and wounded several others, thrusting Sweden’s open door stance towards migrants and refugees into the global spotlight. In February, Donald Trump blamed a terrorist attack that never happened on Sweden’s liberal immigration policy, and in January he signed a highly contentious and swiftly overturned executive order to keep refugees and immigrants out of the U.S., specifically targeting seven predominantly Muslim nations.

The surprising news that this will be Skam’s last season stings, but if it has to end, Sana’s story feels like a good place to stop — with a reminder that the show isn’t just fodder for insatiable fans, but important, too. Sana isn’t a real person, but she has the potential to be a visible and outspoken role model for real young women, with real stigmas, who have real needs. The trailer for her season is soundtracked by a Nina Simone cover, sung by Yusuf Islam, the artist and convert to Islam formerly known as Cat Stevens. The clip runs in reverse, making the song virtually unrecognizable. Play it forward though, and you’ll hear the words: “I'm just a soul whose intentions are good/ Oh Lord, please don't let me be misunderstood.”

Being a teenager is a beautiful mess. It’s miserable in a lot of ways, but there’s also something strangely poetic about the urgency of it all, the way your little high school world is constantly expanding and collapsing in on itself. Like the greatest shows about teenage life — My So-Called Life, Freaks and Geeks, the sometimes overly schmaltzy Degrassi — Skam never trivializes these feelings.

Even as a 26 year old, I was swept up in Skam straight away. I wish it had been around when I was younger, though I always remind myself it couldn’t have. It’s so inextricably connected to modern digital behavior, which is in itself a hopeful reflection of the things that are good about being young right now, and the way social media has created lifelines for teenagers looking for others who understand them and care what they have to say, whether they’re queer, religious outcasts, or die-hard megafans of a teen drama from Norway.

One of my personal favorite scenes is a quiet one, during which Isak opens up about his sexuality to his best friend Jonas. He tells him that he has romantic feelings for Even after school, over kebabs. Jonas doesn’t flinch; it’s obvious he doesn’t mind who his friend dates. It’s borderline tear-jerking in its casualness, a total non-event. One afternoon, I ride past the kebab shop from that same scene. I pull out my phone to snap a photo of the storefront, and one of the employees in the window, who’s probably getting used to fans appearing out of nowhere, laughs and covers his face.

Later, I walk into an old church with big wooden doors and a clock tower steeple. It’s the setting of another emotional scene from Isak’s season, one that aired a little before Christmas. It features a cameo by Norwegian performance artist Nils Bech, who sings a haunting, Swedish-language rendition of “O Holy Night,” in this very church.

When, on another night, I share a drink with Bech in the back of a crowded bar downtown, he says his cover of the iconic holiday staple was a kind of political statement. He relates the song’s biblical lyrics about God’s son dying for our sins to LGBTQ folk’s long-term struggle for visibility; to him, the words are directed at his gay peers, urging them to think about those who fought for equality before them. “I wanted to say, Hey people! Remember that someone, in a way, died for us to be able to be us!” Like the song, Skam itself is a symbol of how far we’ve come, and a reminder of how much work is left to do.

The reaction to the track was wild, Bech says, with admiring notes from fans and other artists pouring in straight away — a testament to the power of Skam. I asked what he thinks it is about the show that reaches people in such a unique, special way. “When you fall in love, it's always so fucking difficult,” he says, laughing. “And I love the way [Julie Andem] showed that. I think a lot of people watching realized, ‘Oh, it's not about being gay or straight or whatever — love is love.’” He took a sip of beer. “At least that’s why I like it so much.”

Late last year, it was announced that an English-language remake of the show is in the works for U.S. and Canadian audiences, with backing from American Idol producer Simon Fuller. Most Skam fans I talk to are skeptical to say the least, sometimes citing MTV’s tone deaf, too-faithful take on the U.K.’s druggy high school show Skins as an example of just how terribly these translations can go. The real-time rollout and the digital elements can be replicated easily, but the content can’t. “If the show wasn't good, you wouldn't let yourself be so engaged,” Vilde Schanke Sundet tells me.

“I think a lot of people watching realized, ‘Oh, it’s not about being gay or straight or whatever — love is love.’” —Nils Bech

Skam has earned large fan groups in a lot of places, including but not limited to the U.K., the Philippines, China, and the United States. For supporters who stop in from out of town, there is a map of shooting locations on VisitOslo.com, the city’s official travel guide. But there’s occasionally some tension between local fans and tourists, and some Norwegians feel like they understand the show in a more significant way than their international counterparts.

“Norwegian fans are really protective,” Sundet says when we meet in a gift shop near the entrance of The Vigeland Park, a huge sculpture garden full of twisty, snow-covered footpaths, before explaining the unspoken cultural rules known as the Law of Jante, which prohibits citizens from ever thinking they’re superior to anyone else. “They will tell international fans off, saying, ‘You can't go into the school,’ or ‘You need to ask before you take the pictures,’” she explained. “This is a social democracy, so the idea of someone sticking out is strongly bound in our culture. We don't have the kind of superstars that you have in Hollywood.”

That famous and non-famous people have been historically afforded the same level of respect and attention in Norway adds a layer of relatability to Skam, and helps the stories feel more personal. But the show is also a straight-up global phenomenon, one that has pushed the small Nordic society into uncharted waters by complicating these long-standing ideas about what it means to “stick out.” It’s all emblematic of another reason the show is so intoxicating: it’s reflecting back small ways the world is changing, in real time.

One night, I walk around Oslo at dusk. I walk past book shops and clothing stores and chain coffee shops and markets. I walk past churches and houses and apartments and parks. I look at the people who pass me on the street. I look at their bulky scarves and puffy jackets and fuzzy wool gloves. At some point, I start to see the Skam characters in all of their faces.

For one second, I convince myself that I actually do see Henrik Holm — the actor who plays Even, Isak’s dreamy love interest. If it is him, he’s walking fast in the opposite direction, talking into a cell phone and dragging a suitcase behind him. Suddenly, for a split second, we’re right next to each other and out of the corner of my eye, I decide that it’s really him. I’m not positive, but I’m pretty sure. I awkwardly stop walking and whip around, but he’s got long legs and a quick stride, and is already on the next block.

[fanboyia]

1. Would you have sex with the last person you text messaged?

No

2. You talked to an ex today, correct?

No

3. Have you taken someones virginity?

Lol no

4. Is trust a big issue for you?

I think I trust people too easily.

5. Did you hang out with the person you like recently?

Yeah they’re cool.

6. What are you excited for?

The club, but aside from that, I’m not really sure...is that worrying? I feel like I should have goals, but aside from the club, I’m not sure what I want to do in the future...I want to get married and have a relationship, but career wise, I don’t know what I want to do with my life.

7. What happened tonight?

Stayed up till 8am talking with some friends, and now I’m all fucked up and tired.

8. Do you think it’s disgusting when girls get really wasted?

I don’t think it’s disgusting? That word is too harsh.

9. Is confidence cute?

Confidence is especially attractive and also a trait that I need to improve on. However, there is a fine line between confidence and arrogance, and the latter is one of the traits I dislike the most in a person...

10. What is the last beverage you had?

Vitamin water :)

11. How many people of the opposite sex do you fully trust?

I’d say there are a few?

12. Do you own a pair of skinny jeans?

Yes, but they still make my legs look like chicken legs rip

13. What are you gonna do Saturday night?

HackGTeeny probably?

14. What are you going to spend money on next?

Textbooks...food?

15. Are you going out with the last person you kissed?

LOL no.

16. Do you think you’ll change in the next 3 months?

I hope so...after last night I realized that I’m not really fond of how I’ve been as a person for the last couple of months, and I’m really glad I read over my personal blog recently as well. I need to reflect upon myself more and not act like a brainless idiot. I used to be so much more thoughtful and mature, and I’ve been going backwards, so I need to monitor myself more carefully now.

17. Who do you feel most comfortable talking to about anything?

My best friends. Isn’t that kind of funny? I think a lot of people would say their parents, but I haven’t told my mom ANYTHING when it comes to my personal life because I don’t trust her with it.

18. The last time you felt broken?

I think right now? Well perhaps broken is not the right description of how I feel right now, but I’m disappointed in myself.

19. Have you had sex today?

No.

20. Are you starting to realize anything?

Yes, definitely. 

21. Are you in a good mood?

I’m just tired, sleepy, and disappointed in myself, but now that I’ve found the root of my problems, I can act upon them and be a better individual. Hmm... now that I think about it, I guess I’m kind of happier now that I know what to do.

22. Would you ever want to swim with sharks?

No thanks.

23. Are your eyes the same color as your dad’s?

No idea, and I don’t really care.

24. What do you want right this second?

Nothing much really. A boyfriend would be nice lul

25. What would you say if the person you love/like kissed another girl/boy?

Well, if he’s happy, then why should I stand in the way of his happiness? I’d be glad for him :) Plus I wouldn’t even have the right to say anything lol.

26. Is your current hair color your natural hair color?

Yes although I want to dye my hair silvery blue? Not quite pastel blue and not quite silver, but somewhere in the middle (maybe closer to silver?)

27. Would you be able to date someone who doesn’t make you laugh?

No...I also need someone who’s good at maintaining conversations and makes me feel comfortable around them lol. Also what’s really funny is that I’m never comfortable talking whenever I’m with other guys; I’m much more expressive and myself with I’m with girls.

28. What was the last thing that made you laugh?

Lol everything from last night I guess?

29. Do you really, truly miss someone right now?

Yeah. It’s so sad when you thought you’ve given your everything to a friendship and it turned out not being enough for the other person, and they’re unable to see that. Truly upsetting and disappointing.

30. Does everyone deserve a second chance?

Definitely unless you cheated on someone lmao then bye.

31. Honestly, do you hate the last boy you were talking to?

No not at all! He’s an awesome person.

32. Does the person you have feelings for right now, know you do?

Probably not, but if they know, then oh well? Life moves on, and I’ll probably get over him cause he’s straight, and based on prior experiences, I am not going to let myself chase after an unrequited love yet again. I am going to learn from my mistakes, not repeat them.

33. Are you one of those people who never drinks soda?

No lol.

34. Listening to?

Chanyeol/Punch - Stay With Me

35. Do you ever write in pencil anymore?

All the time lol.

36. Do you know where the last person you kissed is?

Ah.... let’s not talk about it.

37. Do you believe in love at first sight?

No; I don’t think you can achieve a deep, emotional connection upon first sight lol...that just happens in over dramatic TV shows.

38. Who did you last call?

Mom?

39. Who was the last person you danced with?

Uhh not sure.

40. Why did you kiss the last person you kissed?

ALSO NOT SURE. Yikes whenever I have flashbacks to that incident, yes an incident, I get shivers ahhhhhh.

41. When was the last time you ate a cupcake?

Couple of days ago lol...I need to stop eating sweets. I honestly need to lose some weight and get fit...

42. Did you hug/kiss one of your parents today?

No. I’m in college lol.

43. Ever embarrass yourself in front of a crush?

Rather than being embarrassing, I’m probably just awkward af.

44. Do you tan in the nude?

Uh no.

45. If you could, would you take back your last kiss?

Yes because it was also my first, and it wasn’t with someone who I liked that much...

46. Did you talk to someone until you fell asleep last night?

I guess?

47. Who was the last person to call you?

Mother.

48. Do you sing in the shower?

When there’s no one around, hell yeah.

49. Do you dance in the car?

If it’s around people I like :)

50. Ever used a bow and arrow?

Nop.

51. Last time you got a portrait taken by a photographer?

Senior pictures?

52. Do you think musicals are cheesy?

I haven’t really been to one.

53. Is Christmas stressful?

No because my family doesn’t really celebrate it all that much lol, but I love giving presents!

54. Ever eat a pierogi?

A what?

55. Favorite type of fruit pie?

None.

56. Occupations you wanted to be when you were a kid?

Judge or a teacher

57. Do you believe in ghosts?

Nope

58. Ever have a Deja-vu feeling?

Yes!

59. Take a vitamin daily?

My mom wants me to but no lol

60. Wear slippers?

Yes! Right now actually...speaking about slippers, when I see people on my floor walk around everywhere barefoot, I throw up a little ugh.

61. Wear a bath robe?

No, but I kind of want one!

62. What do you wear to bed?

A tshirt and sweatpants.

63. First concert?

Saving it till EXO/SISTAR come here, but the latter is highly unlikely lol.

64. Wal-Mart, Target or Kmart?

None of the above...Kroger!

65. Nike or Adidas?

Nike

66. Cheetos Or Fritos?

Cheetos>>>>>>>>>>>

67. Peanuts or Sunflower seeds?

Peanuts!

68. Favorite Taylor Swift song?

I KNEW YOU WERE TROUBLE WHEN YOU WALKED INNNN

69. Ever take dance lessons?

Nope.

70. Is there a profession you picture your future spouse doing?

Ohhh interesting question, but I’m not sure.

71. Can you curl your tongue?

Nope

72. Ever won a spelling bee?

Nope

73. Have you ever cried because you were so happy?

Not to the point of crying haha.

74. What is your favorite book?

Eh. I don’t enjoy reading books.

75. Do you study better with or without music?

Definitely with music!

76. Regularly burn incense?

No?

77. Ever been in love?

Not so far.

78. Who would you like to see in concert?

EXO/SISTAR

79. What was the last concert you saw?

Still haven’t been to one so far.

80. Hot tea or cold tea?

Cold, iced tea!

81. Tea or coffee?

Fraps lol.

82. Favorite type of cookie?

White chocolate/chocolate chip

83. Can you swim well?

I’m average.

84. Can you hold your breath without holding your nose?

Yes? I don’t know actually.

85. Are you patient?

Definitely not. This is another aspect that I need to improve on.

86. DJ or band, at a wedding?

Nope.

87. Ever won a contest?

Not so far.

88. Ever have plastic surgery?

No.

89. Which are better black or green olives?

Black olives are nice.

90. Opinions on sex before marriage?

Who cares?

91. Best room for a fireplace?

Living room.

92. Do you want to get married?

Definitely. I kind of want to get married within a couple of years after graduating college.