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maifandom · 1 year ago

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Fifteen Years Later...

15 years ago today, ATLA's finale aired. In commemoration, I dredged up my initial reaction to the finale, which I posted in the shipping thread of ye olde AvatarSpirit.net's forum. Consequently it's very shipping-focused and includes a billion portmanteaus. But it's the closest thing I have to a liveblog for ATLA, and I love nostalgia.

A little context, first. I found Avatar through Zutara fanart at the end of 2007 and caught up on all the existing episodes in probably January 2008? Disappointed that Kataang was so obvious, I turned to Sokka ships and decided I liked Tokka best. I lurked in the fandom for a few months, joined the forum shortly before everyone found out that the Boiling Rock was going to get a DVD release on May 6, two months before it actually aired on TV. I spent a lot of downtime debating the merits of Tokka and making predictions about the show based on random commercials and then the finale trailer. On the shipping side of things, my reaction was kinda negative. I was increasingly disappointed leading up to the finale. Don't worry, it gets better.

Brackets indicate present day edits or comments.

[Begin finale reaction]

OH MAN, WHERE TO START? [...] I guess I'll start from the beginning.

Zumo! ♥

Harutara, ahahahaha.

Nylappa! ♥♥♥ (Ahahaha.)

Irko reunion! ;_; Oh man, I cried. xD

Maiko reunion. xD Seriously, Zuko's eyes. Zudorko. ♥

Okay, I guess it's time for Sutokka stuff, right?

Sukka... were practically glued together. Seriously. And I'm sorry, much as I try to be unbiased, I just really didn't like it. D: There were moments. Mere moments, like back before I had a particular bias. I don't truly dislike it, but when it's so constant and final it's hard to ignore.

It made Tokka moments hard to come by. Or in fact, many other character interactions. Sokka was seriously obsessed. @_@

Did anyone else notice the only time we got Tokka moments was when they were separated from Suki? Dx Aside from the Tokka hand-leading seconds previous. I dunno. I suppose I should be thankful that they made a point of including Tokka. But much as I ADORE this scene:

[Image - probably Sokka covering Toph from debris]

*Insert fangirl scream that gets cut off*

...well it didn't really lead to anything else. ;_;

See, I wanted angst! And drama! And depth! And at least someone acknowledging it. ANYONE.

Frankly, I hated the apparent Toph x everyone-ness. [Zuko, The Duke, and...?] I'm fine with those ships. In fact, I ship more than one of them. But when they're all there? That just says Toph is fickle or childish, to me. D:

I would have liked it better if Tokka was never a romantic ship. Or if we were shown Toph was boy-crazy from the beginning -- with Taang, or some random one-shot character. Why did they save it all for the finale?

But I don't think that's necessarily what's happening. (Reminder to self: don't listen to every conclusion the fandom comes to. >.>) In which case, we still have Tokka disappearing as if it never happened, and Toph doesn't care one iota.

Apparently I came in at just the right time to stew in all the Tokkaness, come to all these conclusions, and then have pretty much everything I ever thought about Tokka or Sutokka be completely undermined. :P

I get the sense that M & B were looking over my shoulder at the things I listed that I didn't want to happen with Tokka, and thought it was a recommendation. :P

However, much as I must seem to be ranting, I'm far more apathetic than angry. Some of that fan depression I had after I watched EIP -- I got this sense I lost my favorite characters, because what I thought was there no longer was. D: [Particularly the way Sokka is characterized, since he's my favorite.]

So, oddly enough, the Sutokka plotline was probably the one I was least interested in, except in with glimmers of hope that those characters I loved might come back. (And they did. Some.)

But, oh man, you should have heard my breathing when Toph got in her metal armor. :P Sutokka got some of the best action EVER.

Wait a second. Pretty much EVERY moment in the finale that had action in it was better than everything else in the whole series. Where can I begin?

[I rambled about staying on topic.]

Except... Crazula? Seriously, I can't say enough how astdirl,dtbmortsnehjAMAZING Crazula was. AZULA, where did you GO? ;_;

And the Kazuko [platonic Zutara] was better. :D

Okay, I'm still not done.

Kataang?

Yeah, it's okay. (Best in EIP.) [Eh???]

Remember the Kataang commercial?

"I won't let him fight alone?" :P

I find it highly ironic that Katara was on ANOTHER CONTINENT THE WHOLE TIME.

Heh. Oh, well. I'll just pretend there's a little extra Kataang in there more along the lines of EIP. ^_^ And then I might be able to say I officially like Kataang, or something.

[End finale reaction]

Years later, I'm rather bemused by some of my thoughts. My disappointment in Tokka makes sense, since they would be so awesome. :P During ATLA, I assumed that shipping details were done very purposefully and would lead somewhere, even if it was just a character arc. After watching LOK, I came to understand better how the writers used shipping more for fun, especially with secondary characters. Part of the magic of shipping or just being in a fandom in general is the fans' imagination. I've been (more or less) happy to continue Tokka using my imagination. I can even imagine contradictory scenarios - angsty, happily ever after, silly, serious - so it really doesn't matter what happened in canon after ATLA.

I don't think Toph was boy crazy, but I do think Sokka will forever care about her well-being. Nowadays Sokka, Suki, and Toph's side plot might be my favorite plotline in the last two episodes, but it's really hard to choose. The Agni Kai is beautiful, the Old Masters are powerful, and Aang's battle against Ozai is intense and important.

My original thoughts on Kataang are really weird to me now. I think I finally warmed up to them a couple years later. I'm not sure what I thought was so good about them in EIP - maybe the fact they actually talked a bit about their relationship? But watching Aang kiss her prematurely is so cringy to me now, and like many I would have liked some sort of interaction before they kissed in the final moments. But I can enjoy it now!

I might dredge up more old posts from the days of great debates, or try to find my first impressions of a few more episodes. (I know I've always loved the Boiling Rock.) Let me know if that's of interest!

In other news, Kataang week is next week, and I am plotting to participate for once.

Now... back to drawing!

#ATLA #Avatar #Tokka #Kataang #ATLA Anniversary #ATLA finale #AvatarSpirit.net #me #nostalgia

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justaboot · 1 year ago

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A) Correct. That’s why I brought up the conversation. He felt guilty about Magica, too.

B) Sure. They forgave him for building it. I’m saying dredge up EVERYTHING for EVERYONE. Della didn’t ever talk about it with him. From the show, we don’t even know if she knows they were separated. Donald and Scrooge never talked about leaving the other. Donald never spoke on giving up his life/dreams. It was the ultimate, massive, nuclear bomb of family baggage, they didn’t polish everything from everyone’s hearts with one scene. The show chose to leave those things out. Great. I’m saying this would be a fun and exciting way to put them back in while still maintaining the importance of the s1 finale.

C) You’re right. Let the characters bring that up. How exciting and complicated, who puts the weight on Della, who puts it on Scrooge? Character drama and conflict. You know, good tv. This would be an exciting time to bring up that dropped thread of Scrooge having been so angry at Della.

D) As I said. Let the weight of Life and Crimes fuel that in the finale.

E) And for ten years, Donald hated him and resented him. Yes, they made up by now, but we didn’t see it and that doesn’t go away over night. What an interestingly complex and adult feeling.

F) Doofus had just as much reason to know about that than anything else. How did some eleven year old know about what happened in a magical dictator-run village of goats before he was born? Have some fun. Your job isn’t to say “A character wouldn’t know that…” it’s looking at “Hmm, WHY would a character know that?” He’s taking his ass to court, he’s gonna google him.

Also, twist it, maybe Bradford whispered in his ear. All of the villains piling up in one place, great, if he gets Scrooge convicted, he’ll stop being a problem quickly and quietly AND the family will hate him. He’s got all the info they need. Tear them apart.

G) Scrooge doesn’t want to be there in the episode, but he has to, anyway. They don’t want to, but they have to anyway. It’s television. Make them say what they don’t want to say. Ooh, the drama and conflict. It’s court. Say the TRUTH. Oh, yes he DID do that…but he loves us!! Yes, I guess it’s true he did xyz… but you’re taking it out of context!!! I’m talking about them being forced to answer questions truthfully or tell the factual story of what happened after the launch and for everyone to have to hear it from their own lips looking each other in the eye. Television drama.

Have a little fun. Why not. I’m not saying rehash the s1 finale. I’m saying this is the last everyday episode of your show. Pull the family apart at the seams using their own words against each other, show them snapping back together, having resolved EVERY ISSUE that’s been left unaddressed, let Scrooge clear ALL of his sins, so they can go into the finale in a new chapter of their lives.

WHY wasn’t Scrooge tried for the Spear during Life and Crimes I am banging on your door disney

It was the PENULTIMATE yall MAKE it a 2 parter, at the VERY last second of ep 1 introduce it, then call the whole damn family to the stand one by one, MAKE them say it to his face, MAKE them watch each other speak. Who’s gonna make excuses. Who’s gonna let loose. Who’s gonna realize it was worse than they thought. Who’s gonna decide it doesn’t matter anymore. throw them ALL in the guilty pile and make him fucking look at them

Then ABSOLUTELY last, when EVERYONE is raw and confused and angry, THEN introduce Magica

Make her tell her story of splitting up her and her twin, how he was an absolute monster.

And after all that, make them look at him.

T H E N he admits guilt.

T H E N hit him with “How do you think Della found out abt the spear…” in the finale. Let that humiliation and fury fuel that.

COME on, it’s his atonement episode, that was his biggest mistake, use your parallels to the full potential people

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lettersfromxadia · 2 years ago

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Since I’ve gotten a few asks about this I’ve elected to ignore, I want to address it publicly here.

Please, stop asking me about “what happened” and trying to stir up the old fandom drama. I made a formal apology for what I did wrong, it was two years ago, and all parties have moved on and are much happier for it. I know the other parties involved would agree with me, because I have personally reached out with my formal apology, which they accepted and agreed to stay blocked and move on. All is content now.

I don’t even have the same views as I did back then, or am the remotely same person. I was highly brainwashed by my family as well, though that is a reason and NOT and excuse. In fact, there are many reasons why I acted out the way I did— out of hurt from the abuse (which lead me to be abusive and emotionally manipulative myself), out of desperation— all of which are reasons in an emotional and “cause and effect” sense but NONE of which are excuses. That’s why I’ve apologized profusely.

It’s over. The only reason I’m mentioning anything happened is because people seem to want to dredge up old discourse (it’s almost like you WANT fandom drama), and I have a lot of new followers with season 4 on the horizon. If everyone complies this will be the last you hear of it, but if needed I will make the same plea to move on again.

Do I wish I wasn’t blocked by certain people and that people were forgiving/ empathetic? Of course. Do I deserve their forgiveness? No (the “opposing parties” in the discourse are not examples of this— I am perfectly content being blocked by them). Heck, my favorite fandom artist of all time understandably blocked me after everything. That’s a deep regret that I have, but that’s also a consequence of my actions I’m willing to live with.

*this is in the tags, but the next paragraph mentions suicidal ideation, so be warned*

The fact of the matter is, nobody knows the full story or both sides/ everything that happened— which stretched across multiple social media platforms and involved death threats against all of us (which I would never wish on anyone), doxxing, hacking, and more. I became suicidal again and in desperation used that to try and emotionally manipulate the fandom into pity. It was, for lack of a more eloquent term, a hot mess.

I’ve learned/ grown a lot, and I know my heart. Even the people I got into discourse with, through all of our differences, have said they don’t believe I’m deep down a bad person. We’re just better off parted ways. And that is fine— I made amazing new friends who supported me through all of this, even through my bad actions and when they had to call me out for them.

All discourse posts on my end beyond the apology should be taken down, and if not are still under the #tdptherapy #tdp therapy tags, if you don’t want to see them. Including this post. If something isn’t deleted that should be in this regard, please let me know and I will find it in my mass post editor and remedy that. If you have me blocked and want to read my apology cause you couldn’t see it, or just want to read my apology in general, DM me and I will send it to you (you might have to temporarily unblock to do so, so if you’re uncomfortable with that I entirely understand and can send screenshots to a mutual). It goes into more detail about exactly what I did, all of which I am happy to own up to.

Please, let us all move on in peace and let this reach the fandom at large— we don’t want discourse. Not with a special new season only days away. As my pinned states, let’s make it a narrative of love. This fandom deserves that.

#the dragon prince #dragon prince #tdp #tdp therapy #tdptherapy #netflix #netflix series #letters from xadia

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threecrowsinatrenchcoat · 3 years ago

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Paint My Spirit Gold

Dukeceit Week Day 2: Green/Yellow

Fans of the YouTubers "Deceit" and Remus "The Duke" Sanders start to suspect that maybe, just maybe, the two of them are more than simple internet pals.

AO3 Link: [here]

Word Count: 2187

Warnings: n/a

@dukeceitweek <3

[ID: A screenshot of a Twitter post by user @CallMeDukie. It features a watercolor-style painting of a snake. The snake appears to be made of melting chocolate, and there is a large bite taken out of its tail. Cherries and jam are leaking out of the snake at the bite wound. The snake's expression of horror is overly-exaggerated to the point of comedy. The caption reads: "liked your snake boi, @SerpenThyme. thanks for the inspo." /end ID]

A notification ding cut Janus off mid-sentence.

“Wow, someone left their cell phone on, so professional,” he said, giving the camera a dramatic eye roll. That someone was him, of course, because he was the only one in the apartment- just him and the running livestream- but that was no excuse not to be a drama queen about it. He finished wiping flour off his hands and grabbed his phone to silence it; but the notification made him pause. He flicked his eyes up toward the camera and gave a slight smirk.

“My goodness, I’m famous,” he drawled. “The Duke himself has graced little old me with some fan art.”

Most of the comments in the chat wanted him to show it, so Janus opened up Twitter to see the full post he’d been tagged in. It was a watercolor painting of the coiled-snake chocolate sculpture- lovingly named Jake by his viewers- he’d made for his YouTube video last week; it was wearing an expression of such comedic horror that Janus had to stifle a laugh. He flicked his phone screen toward the close-up camera on his counter so his viewers could see.

“How kind of you, Remus,” he said. “All of you should go scold him for what he’s done to poor Jake here.”

Most of his viewers would know he was joking- after all, they were the ones to nickname him Deceit when he provided neither a real or fake name for his online persona. They knew full well what he was like by now.

The oven timer dinged. Janus silenced his phone and set it aside.

“And our first batch of cookies is done. You know, why don’t we show the Duke some appreciation?”

[ID: An Instagram post by user @SerpenThyme. The photo is an artistically-framed shot of a stack of sugar cookies with green, yellow, and pink icing. Propped up against the stack is another cookie, with an intricate icing-drawing of an octopus. The photo appears to have been color corrected to have high contrast, low saturation, and a dark vignette at the edges. The Instagram user @OctoDukie is tagged. No caption. /end ID]

“You know, I have often been accused of actually being a little old lady, what with my fondness for knitted jumpers, rocking chairs, and incredibly fucked up murder mystery books. Today I am doing nothing to dispel this accusation, by making soup.”

The studio was dark and empty aside from Remus' workspace. Everyone else had left long ago, even his own brother, which meant that it was officially ass-o'clock in the morning (or, as most people called it, somewhere between 1 and 2 a.m.) But Remus was stuck in hyperfocus, honed in on putting the last touches on a commission that he'd been putting off for weeks. It's not that it was a tough painting- once he'd gotten started, it was actually a very creatively satisfying piece- but man, executive dysfunction could go suck a dick

“French onion soup, specifically. Because while I do like to pretend I am a classy bitch, I am also, regrettably, a lazy bitch with a distaste for anything that takes longer than one bottle of wine to make.”

Remus hated working in silence. It was stifling, almost suffocating. His brain needed noise like his lungs needed air. So when the studio had grown still and silent, Remus had flipped open his laptop and queued up some YouTube videos.

“So we have here three pounds of onions that we need to slice up, pole to pole. You’re going to cry no matter what, so if you have any memories you’ve been repressing since middle school, now is an excellent time to dredge those up.”

And if it happened to be 90% SerpenThyme videos, well. Sue him.

“Now the first rule of caramelizing onions: fast and sloppy is always better than slow and thorough… at least, that’s what every man I’ve ever slept with tells me.”

Remus choked and glanced over to his laptop screen just in time to catch Deceit's trademark smirk directed at the audience just for a moment. It was the deadpan delivery that always got him. Remus could barely hold onto a joke long enough to get through it without cackling mid-punchline, but this fucker could say the funniest shit like an off-hand comment.

He wiped his hands off on his jeans (what use were clothes if you couldn't use them as paint rags?) and pulled his laptop across the table. He typed out a quick comment, citing the timestamp of the joke, and after it was posted, he shut his laptop.

'Cause ass-o'clock was short for "get-your-ass-home-or-I’ll-kick-it" o'clock.

[ID: A screenshot of a YouTube comments section. The first comment is by user TheDuke, and reads: "10:42 wow, rude." The second comment is a reply by user SerpenThyme, and simply reads ";)" /end ID]

Janus plopped down on the couch with a slight groan. He didn’t need to stream today, but he really hated missing days. Besides… he was fine. Really.

He adjusted the camera until he was happy with the framing, and then checked the settings on his streaming software. Satisfied, he started the stream, and watched as his usual viewers rolled in.

“What do you mean I’m not in my kitchen?” Janus drawled, addressing the chat. He glanced around with an expression of faux-shock on his face. “My goodness, when did that happen?”

He chuckled, and then gestured to his surroundings. “Yes, we are in my living room today. If you must know, my closest and most trusted friend tried to murder me today- yes, Virgil, it was attempted murder and nothing less- and I survived with nary a scratch… and a broken foot, but that is beside the point. Anyway, I’m not allowed to stand for long periods of time, and I may or may not be somewhat inebriated by pain pills and couldn’t stand even if I wanted to. So we are cooking from my couch today.”

Janus paused for a few moments to read the chat messages as they popped up. A few get well soon’s, a few theories about the “attempted murder,” Virgil- who moderated his chat for him- vehemently denying the “attempted murder” but otherwise refusing to clarify the event, and a large volume of wtf why are you streaming today, take care of yourself comments, which made him smile. But one particular comment caught his eye, almost lost amid the torrent of an active chat: wait this kinda looks like the Duke’s living room?

“Oh, VampSuga,” he said, addressing that commenter in particular with a slight smirk. “I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about. Anyway, since I can’t reach my oven from here, I thought some no-bake cookies were in order. For these you will need-”

[ID: A screenshot of a Discord conversation. The text reads:

“VampSuga: Ok ok hear me out. Dukeceit.

Starstruck96: who?

IneffableSnek: lmao

FeralBeauYasha: lol

VampSuga: Deceit and Remus Sanders! They’re totally dating. I will die on this hill.

FeralBeauYasha: Isn’t the duke w/ PatPat?

IneffableSnek: no thats his brothers bf

FeralBeauYasha: ohh

VampSuga: Did anyone see Deceit’s stream today? I swear that’s the Duke’s livingroom.

StarStruck96: idk that seems like a stretch

IneffableSnek: no wait i kno what u mean

IneffableSnek: im watching the duke’s old videos and that one where he shows off all his old weapons he’s in a living room kinda like deceit’s

FeralBeauYasha: They were acting all cute on twitter too

VampSuga: DUKECEIT” /end ID]

"Hey guys, been a while since you've seen my face and not just whatever my hands are busy with, when it's within YouTube's terms and conditions I mean. They used to be way more lenient…" Remus trailed off for a moment, then shook his head sharply and plastered on a grin.

"Anyway! In June me and a few other creators did a fundraiser for the Trevor Project, and y'all smashed the goal, so I let you decide what video I'd make this month." He paused, and gestured to the mountain of clothes piled behind him on the bed. "And you had so many juicy ideas to choose from, but you decided to dress me up like a Barbie instead."

Remus paused to scroll through his phone for a few moments. "Ah, ok, here we go. Twitter user YoonIsMyCat- oh, BTS, nice- sent in this first outfit. Uh… future Remus, put up the post here somewhere." He gestured vaguely to his right. "Y'all went with either a fuckton more clothes or a fuckton less clothes, which I respect. Apparently this outfit is called…” He squinted at his phone. “Amish chic? I take it back, no respect at all.”

Remus cycled through the outfits his viewers sent in, which ranged from the aforementioned “Amish chic” to “2008 rave attire” to “ok now you guys are just fucking with me” (which consisted of one of those big puffy snow coats, lime green in color; booty shorts with the shrug text emoji across the ass; fuzzy pink boots; and a yellow cowboy hat to top off the whole thing. It was awful. Remus loved it.) The mountain of clothes on the bed gradually became a mess of clothes spread across the floor instead, until there was just one outfit left.

“Ok so Twitter user VampSuga sent me this outfit that I’m gonna call ‘sexy librarian.’ I couldn’t find this exact sweater online, but-” he paused for dramatic effect, before brandishing a sweater toward the camera like a bullfighter. “My boyfriend had something that was close enough.”

Remus hopped up from the bed and switched off the camera so he could change.

“They’re going to lose their minds,” a voice drawled from the doorway. Remus threw his shirt at him.

“Shoo, I’m getting naked.”

[ID: A Twitter post by user @CallMeDukie. It features a selfie of YouTuber Remus “The Duke” Sanders, a Hispanic man with his hair dyed green and styled into a spiked mohawk. He is wearing a yellow knitted cardigan over a black button-up shirt. He is grinning widely at the camera. The caption reads: “my viewers pick my outfits! now live on youtube. go see what i look like as a sexy librarian!” /end ID]

DukeceitStan

first and only dukeceit shipper ig

DukeceitStan

wow there’s so many of you now! Hi!!

DukeceitStan

i want this to be canon so bad omg

DukeceitStan

i mean just look

[image]

how

[image]

cute

[image]

[ID: A series of three gifs featuring Youtubers SerpenThyme, aka Deceit, and TheDuke, aka Remus Sanders. Deceit is a black man with long, dreadlocked hair, and vitiligo patches along the left side of his face. Remus is a Hispanic man with green-dyed hair styled into a mohawk, many ear and facial piercings, and tattoos covering both arms. Each gif is edited so that the highlights are tinged yellow when Deceit is seen, and tinged green when Remus is seen.

The first gif depicts a close-up shot of Deceit’s hands as he carefully decorates a cookie with green and yellow icing. The cookie art he is working on appears to be a half-finished octopus. The gif then fades into a mid-shot of Remus, with his back to the camera, facing a canvas. The canvas is blank, and Remus appears to be laying out paints on a table to his left.

The second gif depicts Deceit seated at his couch, facing the camera. He has many ingredients spread across his coffee table (including oats, cocoa powder, and butter) and appears to be in the process of laying out several more. The gif fades to show Remus seated at a similar couch with a similar coffee table in front of him. The camera is angled slightly downward to better show the myriad of knives spread out across the table. Remus is gesturing wildly with a morning star held in his hand.

The third gif depicts Deceit in his kitchen. He is pulling on a bright, yellow knitted cardigan, and smirking toward the camera. The gif fades to show Remus in his bedroom, seated on his bed. He is holding up a similar-looking cardigan toward the camera and grinning. /end ID]

“Remus, it’s almost two in the morning. Come to bed.”

“I’m coming, sorry. Twitter distracted me.”

“Mm. I can’t believe the bird app is more distracting than I am.”

“You should try harder.”

“Come to bed and maybe I will.”

“Ok, ok, I’m coming. Hang on though, is it cool if I post this?”

“Sure. They figured it out anyway.”

“Sweet. Ok, Jannie, I’m coming.”

[ID: A screenshot of a Twitter post by user @CallMeDukie. It reads: “Dukeceit is canon.” /end ID]

#dukeceit #dukeceitweek #remus sanders #janus sanders #sanders sides fic #kye writes

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grimbunnies · 3 years ago

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You like to play elders in ts2?❣️ Why so many players hate them? 💭

I do enjoy playing elders! I like playing any sim with story potential, and a lot of times elders have a whole life full of drama to dredge up (implied or experienced in game), or they're in the perfect place to change things up because they're retired (and sometimes single/widowed).

I confess, I used to be one of those players that didn't enjoy playing them. Elders were retired, they'd finished their LTWs (and couldn't complete whatever new one they rolled), and I didn't know how to add my own spice to the game. I was just a youngster overwhelmed by the needs of my sims, and elders were always at home! I was also a youngster with culturally learned ageism, which I probably transplanted onto pixelated elders. "Old people are boring," I can hear an ignorant 13-year-old me whine from over a decade in the past.

Honestly, I don't see a lot of dislike for elders in the Simblr community. I'd like to think we all grew up a little and realized that it's not a sim's age that makes them boring. Some sims are just born boring, live boring lives, and die a boring death.

#grimbox #anonymous

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nelllraiser · 3 years ago

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those magic changes | eddie & nell

TIMING: before nell was yoinked into the hellscape. LOCATION: gallows grove. PARTIES: @specterchasing & @nelllraiser. SUMMARY: eddie and nell have some much needed post-highschool catching up while a spawn tries to catch them up. CONTAINS: sucidal ideation (eddie’s general disregard for his life).

The Bend, also known as the bad part of town, also known as Eddie’s favorite part of town, looked particularly derelict the day he and Nell decided to meet up. The sun hung low overhead, threatening to swap places with the moon at any moment. Meanwhile, within the depths of the sewers, an especially hungry vampire awaited the transition with rapidly diminishing patience. His sire botched his shot at immortality, making him a mindless spawn but, what he lacked in brains, he made up for in brutality.

Eddie parked outside a stretch of abandoned homes only a few blocks away from the spawn’s location. He took a sweeping glance at his surroundings, but there was no one in sight. His hand slipped into his back pocket and retrieved his phone before texting Nell in search of an update.

[Text to Nellspawn]: It’s 7:46 and we agreed on meeting at 7:45.

[Text to Nellspawn]: If you hate me, say it to my face, coward. ):

Nell crept up to Eddie’s car like a cat, making not a single sound as she ducked below the side of it- for once grateful that she was shorter than was ideal. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she smirked as she read the illuminated words on the screen. In the blink of an eye she was jumping from her hiding spot into Eddie’s window, slamming the screen of her phone against the driver’s side window of Eddie’s car as she yelled out. “I got your text!” Hopefully he’d at least jump a little. Or maybe she’d be so lucky as to get a small little scream that she could mock him for.

Out of nowhere, Nell popped into Eddie’s peripheral vision and his heart leapt into his throat. He jumped in his seat, clutching his chest with wide eyes. “Holy fucking shit,” he breathed. As he gradually calmed down, his expression of terror turned into one of utter disdain. Eddie rolled down the window, glaring up at Nell. “Hey, could you do me a favor and stand in front of my car for a second?” he asked. “I promise I’ll make it quick.”

Nell practically cackled as she watched the fear very possibly shave a few years off Eddie’s life, sticking her tongue out at him through the window. “Surprise! I could tell you’re really happy to see me. I don’t think I’ve seen anyone look like that since the time I saw a toddler witnessing their first boggart going in on the peanut butter aisle of the grocery store.” Just in case he didn’t pick up on what she was insinuating, she made sure to rub it in. “Get it? I’m comparing you to a toddler. A small child.” Rolling her eyes she took a step back from the car door, giving him room should he choose to open it. “As if your car would stand a chance against me. I’m made of steel.” For a moment she flexed her arms in the classic pose, though you couldn’t begin to see anything past the looser sleeves of her jacket. There was simply something about seeing Eddie that made her feel as if she were as careless as the day she’d left White Crest. As if all the terrible things since then hadn’t come to pass. He was clean- a slate that wasn’t marred by being present for any of the atrocities of the past year or so.

Eddie willed himself to continue glaring at her, but the truth was that it felt good to hear her laugh again. Like most, Eddie viewed high school as hell on earth, but drama class with Nell gave him a sliver of hope to hold onto each day. “You’re three feet tall, you don’t get to call me a toddler.” Eddie rolled the window up and stepped out of the car. “It might take a few tries, but you know what they say about wills and ways,” he said, finally giving in to the urge to grin. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw her—graduation, maybe. Those years were more blurs than memories at this point. “Fuck it,” he said before taking a step closer and pulling her into a hug.

“I am not!” Nell stomped petulantly against the ground, not entirely helping her case. “I’m just saying if the toddler stroller fits you- who am I to argue?” Nevertheless her own grin was still bright on her lips, feeling lighter by the second the faster she and Eddie fell into old ways. It’d been..shit- it’d been almost six years, but it felt all too easy to pick up where they’d left off. “Yeah- they say Penelope Vural has the strongest will and the best ways, and no car’s ever gonna stop her.” Her laugh was lighter, less sharp as he stepped forward for a hug, and she embraced him back without hesitation. “I can’t believe you’ve gone soft on me, Carridine,” she teased before her gaze flickered over his shoulder to the nearby cemetery. “So you’re still stupidly bent on getting yourself snacked on in there?” One of the things that she and Eddie unfortunately had in common was that they were nearly impossible to sway once they’d made up their minds to do something idiotic. And she wasn’t keen to watch while White Crest swallowed up the friend she’d only just reunited with.

She hadn’t changed, not from what he’d seen so far. It felt like stepping out of a time machine and reliving a period in his life when the most pressing issues he faced revolved around timed tests and peer pressure. “It’s your fault for leaving me, Vural,” Eddie replied, giving her a tight squeeze before stepping back and shoving his hands into his jacket’s pockets. “It’s not stupid if you film it, then it’s art,” he said as he backed up a few steps closer to the rear door of his car. He turned on his heels and pulled the hand before ducking in to grab his filming equipment. “Besides, we might not even run into anything worthwhile,” he said with a shrug as he pulled the bag’s strap onto his shoulder.

The physical scars Nell had gained since seeing Eddie were tucked away under layers of clothing, always prone to the cold. Thankfully it seemed the scars on her soul had seen fit to fade into the background for the moment being as well, leaving her to freely bask in the warmth of Eddie’s company. “Don’t tell me you’re thinking about going to cry in a Subway again,” she joked dryly, folding her arms over her chest. “I’m pretty sure that makes it more stupid, actually.” If this had been six years ago she most likely would have been all for diving headlong into a cemetery, and she’d still do that if it was only her going in. But there was another life at stake here as well, and it wasn’t one she was willing to risk. “Yeah- we’ll see.” She was too jaded at this point to feel optimistic about not running into something lurking in the cemetery, already knowing vampires loved to lurk in their shadows. She’d brought a stake just in case, more than ready for if things went south.

“Don’t knock it ‘till you try it,” Eddie advised in response to her comment about shedding tears in sandwich shops. His hand raised and mimicked a flapping jaw at her next comment. Whether or not his plans were stupid, it wouldn’t stop him. His already poor decision-making continued to deteriorate with each passing day. He told Bex he would be careful but, as much as he didn’t want to disappoint her, he didn’t know the first thing about showing caution. And, frankly, he showed no interest in learning. Eddie’s outlook on life made being alive out to be more of a chore than a priceless gift.

“You wanna do an intro for the channel?” he asked, digging out his camera. “Or did you somehow become the type of person who values anonymity?” Eddie’s brow raised at Nell as he walked passed her en route to the cemetery.

“No- I don’t think I’ll be trying it, thanks. I would, but it makes it a little hard since I have something called dignity. Don’t worry, I wouldn’t expect you to be familiar with the concept. I will keep knocking it, though,” Nell teased, that same playful glint still making a home in her eyes. “Wow!” The word was stretched out as long as she could make it last, offense plain to see in the way her eyebrows had raised towards her hairline. “I can’t believe you just admitted you don’t watch any of the TikToks I make for the newspaper. You think I’d be doing that if I valued anonymity?” She still wasn’t sure how she’d managed to land the job, reveling in the pay and benefits for the minimal amount of work she did.

“You’d be lucky to have me in your intro!” In another moment she was parroting the old intro she’d seen on his channel the times she’d tuned in, letting the words fall none too sweetly as she poked fun at him. She was pretty sure the camera wasn’t even out yet- but that didn’t have her hesitating.

“Dignity,” Eddie mused, sounding as if he were trying to dredge up the definition from deep within his memory banks. “You’re right, I’m drawing a blank. Is dignity the reason you got drunk at Hayden Dane’s house party and asked everyone for soap to appease the bathroom demon? Yeah, I don’t think I have that.” He shrugged all the way up to his ears. It didn’t occur to him that a demon actually did take up roost in Hayden’s bathroom, explaining why his house burned down two days later. Eddie knew a lot about ghosts and decidedly less about infernal imps.

“There’s a pretty big difference between newspaper TikToks and showing your face on a YouTube channel exposing White Crest’s supernatural underbelly,” he replied with a glance. “Most people don’t want to be associated with it. I actually watch your content all the time. It’s… kind of how I learned you were back in town and had been for a while.” A year of radio silence. No point acting like it didn’t sting a little.

At the sound of Nell repeating his old intro back at him, Eddie clutched his chest in despair. “No,” he whined, turning to face her again. “Let it stay dead, Nell. I’m not that person anymore.” The camera in his hand raised in her direction. “Here’s your chance at YouTube fame. If you embarrass me, I’ll get your house haunted.”

Nell rolled her eyes fondly at the memory of the little Bannik that she’d found in Hayden’s bathroom, having been utterly thrilled to stumble across a demon in her drunken state. It had been in the midst of her beginning to acquaint herself with the demon species and portals— so of course she’d been all too eager to find some soap for the little creature. “You’re lucky I was there to appease the bathroom demon. You all would have been long gone if it wasn’t for my quick thinking.” Were Banniks actually all that dangerous? Absolutely not. But Eddie didn’t need to know that.

“Mhm- White Crest’s supernatural underbelly,” she repeated dryly, still not all that pleased that Eddie had made it his life’s mission to single handedly crack open supernatural secrecy. “You know that’s a great way to get people killed, right? What you’re doing with your videos and stuff?”

Stepping through the threshold of the cemetery, Nell’s mouth was already propped open to give her next quip of a reply when a chill ran down her spine. Whether it was the product of being attacked from the shadows one too many times, or an actual premonition- she was suddenly quiet. She began to scan the tombstones with a sharp eye, as if something might be lurking behind them. Then...a low snarling sound, and Nell realized she’d been right to have come as Eddie’s personal bodyguard. “Shut up,” she hissed, already trying to pinpoint where the sound was coming from, a hand slipping one of her hidden stakes from its hiding place.

Eddie eyed Nell skeptically. “Uh-huh,” he uttered. The likelihood of Nell being right about the soap-loving fiend was actually pretty high, but Eddie didn’t care to admit that. He much preferred giving her a hard time, and the feeling seemed mutual enough to dissuade any guilt.

“You know what else is a great way to get people killed? Keeping them ignorant,” Eddie retaliated without missing a beat. “So long as I try to avoid outing individuals, I’m pretty sure I’m in the clear.” This was an argument he knew well, the beginning of it anyway. People didn’t usually bother trying to correct him once they knew how firmly he stood his ground. They saw him as a lost cause, he saw them as uninformed.

Nell seemed on-edge, which Eddie didn’t understand. As much time as he spent in graveyards, he never developed a sixth sense for danger. Mostly, out of lack of interest. “Yeah, that’s a great intro,” he deadpanned. The sight of a stake made him lower his camera. “What are you doing? Now’s not the time to showcase your Buffy cosplay.” He didn’t hear the growl over his own voice.

Nell had never backed down from a fight, argument, or otherwise in her entire life, her stubbornness and determination matching Eddie’s in a way that hadn’t been fully explored quite yet. After all, they’d agreed on most things in highschool, but as was often the case with the supernatural— things got far more complicated when it entered the picture, and relationships were no exception. So she was more than ready to fire back a retort before another growl pierced the night air, and she shushed Eddie once again. “I said shu-” But her words didn’t meet and end as the spawn finally leapt from the shadows taking advantage of her momentary distraction to begin its attack.

Rolling in a smooth and practiced maneuver, Nell clutched the stake like a lifeline in her hand staying low to the ground as she readied her magic should she need it. “Don’t move,” she gave Eddie another command as she tried to draw a large circle around the spawn with her footsteps. But the thing had taken one look at the stake in her hand and decided to go for the easier target. In the blink of an eye, the spawn had shifted course, turning towards Eddie with bloodlust in its eyes.

Eddie let out a startled laugh at the sight of the vampire, his usual reaction to imminent danger. He instinctively raised the camera as Nell momentarily outsmarted the beast. Asking her where she learned a maneuver like that would have to wait.

“Gonna have to deliberately disobey that order,” Eddie said once the spawn locked onto him. A familiar surge of adrenaline flooded his system and Eddie jouked to the right, an outstretched hand commanding a small cross to fly from a nearby grave into his grip. He was lacking in the faith department, but desperate times called for desperate measures. “Fuck off, fuck off, fuck off,” he chanted as he waved it in the spawn’s direction.

The raising of his camera wasn’t lost on Nell, and she shook her head in disbelief as the spawn tore after Eddie. Really? Even now Eddie was trying to get a shot? “You can’t upload a video if you die, dumbass!” Nell yelled, already hot on the spawn’s trail while it flew after Eddie like a bat out of hell. Which...wasn’t actually all that terrible a description of the lesser vampire when Nell thought about it. At least her friend had enough sense to arm himself with some religious memorabilia, though the spawn had yet to spot it while being far too intent on having its next meal.

The creature was faster than Nell could have ever been without a hunter gene or otherwise, but thankfully she had her own tricks up her sleeve. Casting one of her oft-used spells when it came to fighting, her speed was instantly buffed, and she became a blur even quicker than the spawn. The burst was enough to get her on top of the spawn and send herself barreling into the side of it, trying to find purchase with her stake. She was by no means all that large of a projectile standing at only 5’2 and having a slight build, but the momentum she’d gathered was enough to shoot the spawn off its path. The spawn was quick to recover, snapping at the hand that held her wooden point and clamping its jaws down on her wrist. With a curse falling from her lips, the weapon was forced out of her hand.

“What the fuck?” Eddie exclaimed when a Nell-sized blur collided with the vampire. Questions piled up, giving him a reason to outlast the encounter. The spawn recalibrated with deadly quickness, and blood subsequently flowed from Nell’s wrist. As much as Eddie liked to pretend situations like this fit his laissez faire narrative, he couldn’t stand idly by while someone he cared about bled for his mistakes.

His camera hit the ground while his feet carried him to Nell’s side. With little regard for his own wellbeing, Eddie pressed the cross to the side of the spawn’s head. It sizzled against the wrinkled skin, sending the creature reeling backwards with a shriek.

“You dropped this,” Eddie said breathlessly as he floated the stake to Nell’s uninjured hand, hoping she would take hold of it. He stayed next to her, holding out the cross to hopefully keep the beast at bay long enough for Nell to plan out her next move. But it looked hungry and Eddie couldn’t imagine it had much patience.

Nell grimaced while she did her best to ignore the injured wrist, giving Eddie a grateful nod as she caught the stake he’d floated in her direction. She couldn’t deny that she was enthralled by the encounter with the spawn, and she would have been enjoying herself even more if Eddie hadn’t been involved in the crossfire. Not for the first time, she felt like she was back in the Ring, fighting for her life and the winnings of those who’d bet on her. She couldn’t deny that she missed the rush of battling for her life, and the roar of the crowd.

The cross move had been smart on Eddie’s part, and Nell supposed she should at least count herself lucky that he knew enough to know what had the ability to ward off vampires. “Just go-” she began to say, unwilling to risk Eddie’s life any further. She didn’t wait to see if he’d obeyed, once again rushing forward with a speed she shouldn’t have possessed. The stake in her good hand plunged forwards through the spawn’s chest, but her efforts were fruitless beyond making the creature even angrier. At the last second it’d darted to the side, shifting just enough for the point to miss its heart.

With a growl of frustration, Nell decided she was done with trying to hit a moving target. She kicked a leg into the air to hook it behind the thing’s head, using her momentum to swing herself up by the crook of her knee until she’d sat herself on the spawn’s shoulders, hands placed on either side of its head. “Just gotta bring the inside out,” she reminded herself as she gripped her magic tight. She could feel it’s sludge-like blood responding to her will as it’s head began to fill with more than it could hold. Pulling her hands from the creature’s head, she tugged on the blood she’d pooled, bursting the spawn’s head in an explosion of brains and viscera. With the remains of the spawn painting her front, she slipped from it’s twitching body, catching her breath while she looked to see where Eddie might have gone.

Nell told him to go, but Eddie couldn’t look away, let alone move. She climbed the vampire with precision and put a bloody end to it. He went momentarily slack-jawed. “What the fuck?” he breathed, sounding like a broken record. Eddie trudged towards Nell, remembering a final obstacle stood between him and the answers he wanted so badly. He placed the cross in his back pocket, making a mental note to return it to its rightful grave before they left, and reached out for her injured wrist.

“Can I take a look at it?” he asked timidly, wanting to make up for the harm he caused her. “Or do you have some kind of spell for that, too?” He eyed her curiously, fine with either answer. If she had a handle on her blood loss, he would need to figure out a new way to make tonight up to her, but he could work with that. “I think the best I can do is a band-aid, anyway.” He offered her an apologetic shrug.

Nell fixed Eddie with a disapproving look the moment she realized he hadn’t actually moved an inch since she’d told him to leave. “You know- usually the best way not to get killed is to listen to me.” Mindlessly, she let him take her wrist, not entirely having expected him to ask for it, but offering it nonetheless. Her head tilted in amusement as he mentioned spells, realizing he’d already pegged what was going on. “You mean you’re not buying the whole- I just got really buff after highschool or something like that?” To be fair she had gained more muscle, but it was of a leaner make than anything a bodybuilder might have.

“Well- it’s not really...a spell but-” As he eyed her wrist she willed the blood to clot where the skin had been broken, once again flexing her bloodkinesis as the wound scabbed over. “I can just do that for the most part. I never really learned a lot of healing.” She gave him a smile anyway, coming down from the high of the kill slowly but surely. “You can still put a band-aid on it though, if you want,” she teased, though thankful for his concern.

“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” Eddie replied flippantly. For Nell’s sake, he kept his indifference towards death light-hearted. Whichever way the wind blew, Eddie didn’t mind much. Either he lived another day, or he didn’t. In his opinion, both options seemed eerily similar. “We can play pretend, if you want, but I’d rather pick your brain about magic.” He knew another spellcaster, Bex, but she didn’t seem as advanced as Nell. “God, how did it take me this long to figure it out?”

Nell healed herself, in a sense, and Eddie’s eyes widened with delight. “So cool,” he said, catching her gaze again. “You don’t have to coddle me. I get it, you’re all tough and scary now. Way beyond band-aids.” As he spoke, he meandered back to the grave he’d stolen from and returned the cross with a quiet apology. Ghost or not, they deserved more respect than he’d given them.

Returning to Nell, Eddie knew better than to think they’d walk back to his car without a good lecture. “I’m fully prepared to be scolded now, by the way. Hit me with your best shot.”

Eddie might have thought his jokes about dying were landing decently, but Nell’s face didn’t so much as twitch into a smile as he spoke the words. After the last year...after the last six years she knew that death wasn’t a joke. She supposed it made sense that Eddie would have a skewed vision of it as a medium, but that didn’t mean she had to encourage him. Maybe he’d feel differently if he’d watched someone he loved die, woken up covered in her blood with her headless body lying next to him on the ground. Shaking her head to dispel the dark memory, she simply sent him another stern glare. “No fun in dying, really.” She wasn’t going to entertain his frivolity when it came to his life. But magic was easier to talk about, and something that wasn’t tainted by her trauma. Her voice grew lighter again, curious to know what he himself was curious about. “Sure- what do you wanna know? Or how much do you know already? It probably just took you so long cause you couldn’t see around your giant hair,” she teased, leaning on an old laugh.

Another little smile crossed her face while she watched his reaction to the magic, always thinking it endearing the reactions of those who were less acquainted with it. “Actually I’ve always been scary and tough, thank you very much,” she joked with a wrinkle of her nose— even though she’d gotten in more than her fair share of fights in highschool.

Picking up his busted camera from the ground, Nell thumbed some dirt from it’s lens before taking a closer look, trying to figure out if a simple repair spell might have it back in working condition. He’d asked for a lecure, and she was left wondering when she’d become the kind of person who doled them out. “This isn’t a game, Eddie,” she began seriously. She should have known the levity of the start of the evening wouldn’t last. Not in a place like White Crest. “You can’t just waltz into supernatural infested areas without protection. And you shouldn’t be doing it in the first place.”

Nell didn’t laugh, but that was nothing new. Eddie understood that most people took death more seriously than he did, and he knew they had their reasons. On the other hand, their solemnity didn’t invalidate his indifference. He preferred not caring, it made life easier. The subject-change suited him just fine, however. “The conditioner I use doesn’t help either, eats at the brain cells, y’know,” he said, going along with her joke. “I’ll be honest, I don’t know much. Magic’s fascinating, but I’ve always been satisfied with the whole telekinesis thing, so I didn’t do much digging. So, feel free to talk to me like I’m an idiot, not that you need my encouragement,” he teased.

“Taking on a vampire is a little different than maiming Cindy S,” he playfully corrected her. Eddie knew Nell had never been a push-over, but this was groundbreaking as far as he was concerned.

As expected, she provided words of warning. He nodded along absently, his eyes fixed on the camera in her hands. If he kept up at this rate, he wouldn’t be filming for much longer, anyway. Lack of equipment meant lack of content. “And, why is that?” he asked curiously when she finished bending his ear. He figured he knew the reason, or at least the jist, but he wanted to give Nell the benefit of the doubt. Maybe, her reasoning wouldn’t be as boring as everyone else’s.

“We both know that’s a lie because you don’t have any brain cells to eat,” Nell commented dryly, wishing they could have stayed in the sun of their earlier conversation, the lightness of it having been reminiscent of simpler days. But these weren’t simpler days anymore, and apparently the spawn and whatever bullshit this town would toss out next hadn’t wanted her to forget that for more than the half an hour it’d taken for her and Eddie to get here and get into the cemetery. “You know telekinesis is basically just another form of magic,” Nell supplied, remembering saying something similar to Blanche. An ache of longing shot through her as she thought of her best friend, wishing they could be physically closer, but knowing that Whtie Crest had essentially sapped the flush from her friend’s cheeks, and the joy that was meant to color them. “It’s cool you can work with it though since not all mediums can.” She assumed he knew as much. “But magic…it’s built on a few core things...intention, will, focus…” She didn’t know if this was the best place for the conversation the more she looked around. For all they knew there could be another spawn lurking, or a fully fledged higher vampire who was thirsty. “We should talk about this somewhere else, though.”

“Cindy S fucking deserved it,” Nell joked in reply, honestly having half forgotten the way she’d broken the snotty girl’s nose while in highschool until Eddie brought it up. “And she was already halfway to being a bloodsucker with the way she acted.”

Nell’s annoyance grew as he seemed more preoccupied with the camera than herself. “You’re not even pretending to listen,” she accused, the displeasure plain in her voice. “Because you’re either gonna end up dead or have someone else end up dead or get hurt.” She waved her wrist as a reminder, not above using it in a moment like this. “And maybe you don’t mind being a ghost, but it’s not fucking fun for the people who care about you.”

Hearing Nell refer to something he possessed an innate knack for as ‘magic’ brought a grin to Eddie’s face, a grin that grew larger when she called attention to how rare of a gift it was. Telekinesis wore him out more often than not. Even now, he felt the dull throb of an oncoming headache making itself known. But, despite the pain and exhaustion, Nell’s opinion made him feel proud. “Yeah, it can be a little tricky,” he admitted, thinking back to Willow propelling him across her living room. “Right, right, totally. Time and place, I gotcha.” Eddie wouldn’t have minded loitering in the cemetery until daybreak, but Nell was the one recovering from a vampire bite.

“Yeah, well, all busting her face accomplished was convincing her parents to let her get a nose-job.” Eddie pursed his lips at the resurgence of long-ignored memories. Present day left a lot to be desired, but nothing could convince him to relive high school.

Eddie opened his mouth to assure Nell he usually went on these adventures alone, but her next comment caused him to immediately slam his jaw shut. His brows knitted together as he considered her. He wanted to argue, to insist that no one cared about him enough for it to matter. He would’ve used her as an example, calling attention to how long it took her to reach out to him. If people cared so much, they would act like it, and he wouldn’t feel so alone. But, admitting to feeling that way would’ve made him sound pathetic.

“I’m not gonna die, don’t be so dramatic,” he said, turning away to start walking towards his car. “I’ll try to be more careful.” Eddie hoped she wouldn’t call his bluff. “Do you need a ride?” he asked over his shoulder, eager to change the subject.

“A new nose job, and the satisfaction of leaving me and my friend alone,” Nell jokingly corrected. Cindy had been one of the ones to make fun of Blanche and the way she seemingly spoke to herself at times when addressing a ghost. She wasn’t necessarily proud of the temper she’d had in highschool, and referring to it as past tense was most likely generous— but she liked to think she’d improved from the even more violent youth she’d been. Besides, she’d break someone’s nose for Blanche any day.

“You don’t know that,” Nell rebutted instantly, still annoyed at how lightly Eddie seemed to be taking everything. “You know White Crest loves to eat people up and spit them out.” How many people had gone missing or been killed in their highschool class alone? Too fucking many. Perhaps she was leaning a little too hard on her personal feelings when it came to the matter, tired of watching people she cared about die, but if it made Eddie live another day she wasn’t opposed to tough love. “There’s a thousand and one things out there that could kill you, and you’re throwing yourself at all of them. I’m not being dramatic.”

After years of separation, Nell couldn’t tell if his words of being more careful were sincere or something he’d said to placate her, but she figured this was another conversation they shouldn’t have in the middle of the cemetery with beasts potentially lurking in the shadows. “I’m not done with you,” she clarified, not wanting him to think he’d gotten out of this. “But I’ve got my bike that I need to take home. Thanks for the offer, though.”

White Crest’s history didn’t bother Eddie. He coped with his surroundings by romanticizing how capricious the town was rather than fighting against the inevitable. When people questioned him, he often wondered what made them so certain they knew how he should live his life better than he did. Whatever it was had yet to be explained to him in understandable terms. He didn’t want to argue with Nell anymore.

“I said I’ll try to be more careful,” he reiterated.

Eddie stopped when Nell politely turned down his offer and turned to face her. It only felt right to pay proper attention to their goodbye. “Don’t mention it,” he deflected. “It was good seeing you again, Nell. Fingers crossed, next time will be a little cozier.”

#// BLESS FRANKIE for being so goOD #ch:eddie #wickedswriting #chatzy #those magic changes #suicide tw

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percontaion-points · 3 years ago

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Protection chapters 22 & 23

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions

Chapter 22

Lisa didn’t mind, as long as they were together and could be alone. Well, as alone as two people can be when they require a lady’s maid, valet, butler, housekeeper, cook, sundry footmen, maids, kitchen hands, laundress, and gardener to take care of them and their home, not to mention carriage drivers and stable boys to attend to the horses.

Holy shit, we get it! Stop!

Hopefully showing him would do the trick, as Lisa doubted she could hide how she felt and had no intention of trying.

Chapter 22 summary: Mercifully, we skip over the actual wedding celebration, and jump to them driving to their home. They're both excited to finally be able to be alone... Although Lisa makes a tacky joke about sending all of the servants home in order to save some money, and she'd do all of the work herself. They make out a little, and again, Lisa makes a tacky joke about “is that a pistol in your pocket” as a throw-back to her naivety in the first book.

They arrive at a house, and Lisa asks who this place belongs to. Nathaniel says that he's giving it to Lisa, because he'd promised her houses. He says he's also going to get her a home in the country. And furthermore, when the children arrive, he's going to assure that the other children, and not just the first son, are set should the worst case happen.

Then, and unholy amount of time is spent on just the meet and greet of the staff. There's Nathaniel's valet, Ruth who has randomly gotten engaged to Ben off-page, as well as George's cook. The cook assures Lisa that George is quite happy spending time with Penelope, and will be well-fed by her own cook.

They then separate if only because Ruth has to help Lisa out from her wedding dress.

And if you were wondering why this book has so many chapters... We literally spent an entire chapter with them just going inside their new home.

Chapter 23

He’d been warned that wives were prickly creatures. He just hadn’t expected as much from Lisa, certainly not on their wedding night. Still, it had been a long day.

Chapter 23 summary: They bang. When Nathaniel is almost finished, he pulls out instead. Lisa asks him why he'd done that, and that she was using the “mistress sponge” that he'd given her earlier. Nathaniel confesses that he's worried about her dying in childbirth, especially considering that her mother suffered several miscarriages and eventually died herself as a result. He goes on to say that he'd read that it helped the woman to be past 20 years old before she first gave birth. But then expresses that he was worried that asking to delay the wedding would only give Bill more ammunition to literally steal Lisa away from him.

Lisa then gets upset when he declines for a round two. Which only just feeds back into Nathaniel's original opinion that wives are cold, uncaring shrews. Because we gotta dredge this back up again now that there's no more outside drama, I guess.

#A Forbidden Love series #Protection (Forbidden Love 2)#Chapter 22 #Chapter 23 #Anneliese 'Lisa'#I would ask where the editor was but I think we all know there was none #can we not #Lord Nathaniel Stanton #so much padding

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gingit-cake · 4 years ago

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Therapeutic Gallavich

I’ve been wanting to write a tribute post to the Gallavich universe as a free source of therapy during the pandemic. I’m somewhat tongue in cheek here, but in a country (USA) where we have too little mental health support and too much stigma about mental health, diving into the Gallavich fandom and binging Shameless over the past 6m has been a really comforting coping mechanism for me. There is so much grief and loss in the world, so many ways our government and - for many people - our peers have failed us, that the fictional world of Ian and Mickey has been a wonderful source of comfort, in a lot of ways. It’s a retreat from the IRL shitshow. It’s got endless permutations of happy endings, to give us that serotonin boost and vicarious thrill. And given Mickey and Ian’s respective struggles - homophobic and sexual abuse, mental illness, neglect, parental death, incarceration, etc. - there are also countless fanfics that include therapy, recovery, and informal paths towards healing from past trauma. I’ve never related to a show so personally as I have Shameless, and binging it during the pandemic - when social isolation leaves way too much time for rumination, compounded by being at midlife and the reflection that triggers - it basically ripped open my heart and dredged up long buried stuff I’m finally willing to address. My husband and I watched the S7 finale on New Year’s Day, and let’s just say 2021 has been an emotional retcon of my life since. (I’m learning all the creative, literary terms.) (And don’t worry, strangers on the internet, I am fortunate to have a therapist and the insurance to pay for it. I wish we all had this.)

There’s been a few fanfics I explicitly want to give a shoutout too as ones featuring therapy or recovery or conversations that have stayed with me in a meaningful way. Excerpts, tributes, and links below the jump. Possible spoilers for Enemy Lines, Someone to Hold Me Up, Buy and By, and Etherized Against the Sky.

Enemy Lines, by J_Q and stars_fall_on - Ian has a therapist Dr. Lancaster, who introduces him to the concept of rumination:

“He felt a tightening in his chest. Did he even want to let go of Mickey? If not, what the hell was he still holding onto? A memory. A feeling. A belief that he’d made a real connection. But nothing substantial. Nothing real. // 'Ian, is there something hindering you from wanting to move on?" she asked then sat back, looking closely at him. “Are you familiar with the term rumination? // ... // Rumination, as opposed to worry, very often focuses on loss and an overpowering need to understand why something happened.' She continued to watch him closely as she spoke. 'While emotional processing starts out this way, healthy processing leads to acceptance and a release of negative emotions, but rumination keeps you stuck in a pattern.’”

THIS is my brain in a nutshell. As I wrote in a comment on one of the chapters to this amazing slow burn, enemies-to-lovers fic, I’ve got relationships from 20y+ ago that I still brood over. I’m working on letting go and the Gallavich universe has been a creative inspiration for doing some of that work.

Someone to Hold Me Up, by @westernredcedar - Mickey has a conversation with an OC about forgiveness, after reconnecting with Ian in this hurt/comfort fic:

“'You ever have to forgive your guy for something?' Mickey asks. // Mel laughs. 'Of course. Daily, actually. The man’s a damn slob.' // Mickey snorts, but then he runs his hand over his mouth and tries to actually get to the point. ‘What about something big?' // Mel looks like he’s considering the question thoughtfully, and Mickey realizes that somewhere in the midst of all this madness, he’s really gotten to like this guy. 'I have lots of thoughts about forgiveness, actually,” Mel says with an eyebrow raised. “So you may not want to get me started on that theme. But it’s more about my parents and my sister than about Jeffrey, if that matters. I guess for me it all boils down to this: would it cost me more to forgive or cost me more to stay angry? And my answer to that question is not the same for everyone.’”

This conversation about forgiveness has really stayed with me. One of the reasons I’ve realted so much to the character of Ian Gallagher is I had a hothead brunet of a boyfriend in high school during that same age range (15-17) who is probably the same height as Noel Fisher and caused no shortage of DRAMA in my life, and it didn’t end well. (We were definitely NOT soulmates.) I am serious when I say Shameless and Gallavich specifically helped me let a lot of this 30y old angst go. This exchange b/w Mickey and Mel gets at it - it was costing ME a lot to hang on to this past.

By and By, by @nowherenj - This one I’m not going to excerpt, because it was the whole story that moved me. Nowherennj draws on their experience in recovery, and this slow burn is both beautifully written and a primer on being in recovery. This was really helpful for me, as I have close friends and family who are in recovery, some with a dual diagnosis (drug use + mental health diagnosis), and this story’s generous attention to detail helped illustrate their experiences for me in a way that we don’t talk about on a regular basis. One of the reasons I identify so strongly with Shameless is because I come from a big sprawling Irish-American family with a lot of addiction and mental illness in it. This fic about Ian and Mickey in recovery makes explicit much of what I think my family hovers around because it can be so hard to talk about openly. I wept reading this one when the author brought in The Avett Brothers’ No Hard Feelings - how I want to live my life.

Etherized against the Sky, by Snarfle - This one is less about my own therapeutic journey and more about what I hope I can be for young adults that I work with now. It has a character in it named Mr. Strickland, who is a very important father figure for Mickey. I was a professor for a decade, and still mentor young adults in my current job. I think one of the unsung roles that I experienced in academia is too be a mentor for young people. Some instructors are just about curriculum and grading, but when you cross paths with young adults at the beginning of this stage of life, figuring their sh*t out, the ability to be a kind and safe source of input and an active, non-judgemental listener is honestly the most fulfilling aspect of working with students and young professionals, in my view. Maybe it’s because the years 15-25 were such chaos for me, but I love working with people this age (and probably why I hang around on Tumblr despite my near eligibility for AARP lol). You’ve got your whole life in front of you! So many possibilities! Full of hot boyfriends and tomato plants and rescue dogs and heated pools. :)

There are surely more, I’ve realized that “hurt/comfort” is a great tag for these kinds of stories. But this post is already too long. Thanks to all of you in the fandom who have created art and narrative that have kept me coming back for more, and not feeling so alone in the pandemic. We are a mighty little community!

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notebookmuseum · 4 years ago

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Journaling When Your Life Feels Too Boring

(This is something of a departure from my usual posts here, but I figured I'd suggest some journal prompts for anyone who needs them ☺️)

So I read a lot about people who want to take up journaling, but are too intimidated by it. One of the most common reasons is they have nothing to write about - your life is dreadfully boring and nothing fun or exciting ever happens to you anymore. (Cue the "I'm being attacked" from millennials and generation z)

If you hate the tired old advice of writing about your day or complaining about your relationship troubles, maybe I can help. And I should know, I have an embarrassingly large plastic storage box in my room full of roughly 20 years' worth of journals.

The most important thing is that you're journaling for YOU, not for Tumblr or Instagram or YouTube. It's okay if you don't journal every day or if your notebook looks like it got run over by a car, as long as you're actually using it. Nice but empty, unused notebooks make people sad :(

1. Pretend you're a space alien - I can't take full credit for this one, I got the idea from an art journaling guide I found at a secondhand bookstore. If you try to describe your everyday life to a Martian (or some other nonhuman being like a robot or an ogre or a ghost from 17th-century France), it's going to look a LOT less boring.

2. Useless trivia and history - A side effect of #1 is that your imaginary audience might start asking questions about where things come from or why certain human practices are the way they are. If you're anything like me, you'll probably start Googling out of curiosity and wind up down a one-hour Wikipedia hole about liberation theology or bleeding heart doves or ruby chocolate. You can't go wrong with writing about the weird or neat things you've learned.

3. Describe your hobby - No, I'm not just talking about the usual like book or movie reviews. Go into really fun stuff you can't find on Wikipedia, like hobby in-jokes or shipping (or how silly you think shipping is) or petty internet drama. This has the added bonus of you secretly laughing (or losing faith in humanity) from all the dumb things going on while you're too busy swooning over Chris Evans or Taylor Swift.

Note: If you're REALLY clueless about what to write, the nuclear option is to take a random TV show or movie you're into right now... and look it up on tvtropes.org. I apologize for everything that comes after.

5. Moderate your greed (with apologies to early 2000s Philippine politics) - Agonizing over those fancy shoes you'd been eyeing in the mall? Arguing with yourself over getting the latest iPhone? You can try getting to the bottom of those desires by journaling about that thing you want or why you want it. This can help you come up with reasons to quell those desires - or backfire completely and accidentally convince yourself to buy it after all. Exercise with great caution.

4. Why aren't you doing _____ - Lets face it: we all procrastinate. So be honest and write about the secret, shameful reasons why. The __ can be as simple as why you haven't washed the dishes yet, or something big like why you still haven't gone backpacking through Asia like you always dreamed of.

6. My toes, my knees, my shoulders, my head - This is a common mindfulness exercise to help you calm down when you're stressed: sit quietly for a moment and do a mental inventory of how you're physically feeling right now. Has that small cut on your leg healed yet? Do you need a haircut? Do you feel like crap because you haven't been getting enough sleep? Go ahead and complain about all those things on paper.

Trigger warning: For those of you struggling with body image issues, this prompt might have the side effect of dredging up all those old insecurities. Be very cautious when approaching those thought processes, and remember to take care of yourself.

7. Don't write at all - You probably have a spot in your house full of things you can't quite bring yourself to throw away: movie tickets, family photos, bus tickets, shopping lists, post-its from the office, a wrapper or label from the sweets your aunt brought home as pasalubong. Or you probably make stick figure doodles all the time about all the gruesome things you want to do to your boss. All of those can find a place in your journal. Journaling doesn't have to be just writing; it's meant to be good for you, not to make you even more stressed or pressured.

Note: "Pasalubong" is a Filipino word for gifts your friends and relatives take home from their travels, like t-shirts or fancy chocolate or bottles of lotion and perfume. Yeah, this is really common in Philippine culture, you can look up the (sometimes tragic) history of Overseas Filipino Workers (OFWs) for context.

#notebooks #journals #journaling #journal prompts #notebookmuseum

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ithebookhoarder · 4 years ago

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Chapter 4: A Baptism of Fire

Masterlist: The Gangster’s Daughter.

Description: Life for Tommy Shelby was pretty ordinary; all he ever had to worry about were his family, their business and the Blinders. Nothing more, nothing less. Well, that was until his 'daughter', a twelve-year-old girl called Evelyn Westmore, was thrown into his life, dredging up feelings and things from the past he'd done very well to forget. Also available on AO3 - update every Sunday:

Warnings: Original Character(s), Canon-Typical Violence, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Explicit Language, Gangsters, Period Typical Attitudes, Parent Tommy Shelby, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent.

Word count: 3112

----

Evie was by no means religious. True, her mother had raised her Catholic and taken her to church each week but just because she knew the stories from the Bible didn’t mean Evie believed them. They’d all seemed so ridiculous and far fetched. Who could survive being eaten by a whale, for example? And was she supposed to believe that humanity had all come from one man and one woman? Didn’t that make everyone related?

Still, for all her faults, Evie had never felt more connected to the story of the last supper. As she faced down the Shelby family seated around the table, she felt oddly like she was about to be dragged outside and crucified.

Literally.

For instance, no one had seemed very happy to notice her sat in the corner of the room. As each member had piled into the dining room she had received a distrusting stare and a question, thrown to both her and her father.

Nevertheless, he had refused to answer any until everyone was gathered together. Her father had hardly flinched as he waited patiently, ignoring the onslaught of curiosity and disbelief from the numerous people gathered around the table. Evie had no idea how he did it. All she wanted to do was crawl under the table and hide until the whole thing was over.

The feeling had only intensified once her father had made his announcement and with it, introduced the newest member of the Shelby family.

It was as if he’d lit a match in a tinder box.

Chaos wasn’t even the right word for the scene that had unfolded following the announcement. There was an eruption of shouts and questions hurled back and forth. Evie couldn’t keep up with them, even if Tommy and Polly did an admirable job.

The two large men at the table, John and Arthur Evie had learned, were the first to kick off. However they were followed by the young women sat next to them - Ada and John’s wife, Martha - and the small boy staring at them all with amusement.

Finn was his name. He was also rather sweet looking, even if he wasn’t going to be much use in this discussion. Somehow Evie doubted the rest of them would care for the opinion of a toddler. They certainly didn’t care what she had to say and she was the cause of this drama.

“I say we stop this now,” Arthur argued, trying and failing to control the conversation.

“No.”

Tommy was the one to speak then, watching on as Arthur looked at his brother in bewilderment. He appeared to be the only one, however, as Pol poured herself a drink whilst Ada, Martha and John tutted at Arthur’s outburst.

“She could be anyone’s, Tommy. How do you know that this kid is even yours? There are hundred of unclaimed bastards out there in these streets. Who’s to say this one is any different, just because you fucked her mother doesn’t mean she’s our concern. Why would she not tell you otherwise? Who knows where her mother spread her legs-”

“I was her first,” Tommy snapped, a dangerous look in his eye. It was as if he could sense the embarrassment and tension Evie had swirling inside her, Perhaps that was why he shut down the discussion there and then. “And I don’t have to explain myself to you - any of you. This is how it’s gonna be. Evie became my concern when her mother begged me to keep her safe. So, she stays.”

Evie let out a small sigh of relief, even if she had yet to remove her eyes from the now cold bowl of food in front of her. She hadn’t dared touch it. She was too scared to breathe, let alone eat.

“Well, I just think it’s nice for once that when someone announces a new child it isn’t us,” Martha teased, kissing John’s cheek. She was doing her best to cut her way through the tension that lingered, even if it was an impossible task. “You’ll have to come meet your cousins at some point. Isn’t that right, John?”

John nodded awkwardly. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, of course. They’d love to meet you.”

“I’d like that too,” Evie managed to choke out. However, she was prevented from saying anything else as Arthur chose that moment to resume his previous campaign.

“I say it again. That bitch could have been lying-”

“Oi!” Polly bellowed, thwacking Arthur round the back of his head. “I will not have that woman disrespected in front of her daughter. She’s a Shelby and she stays. End of, Arthur Shelby.”

Arthur looked very much like he didn’t think it was the end, but Polly clearly had the last word as he returned to his dinner with a grumbled curse and pointed look across at Evie. No one dared say another bad word on the subject. Instead, it was Ada, Martha and John who made the effort along with Polly to actually talk to her.

Well, John was only the result of his wife squeezing his hand tightly and hissing something in his ear that made him sit a little straight.

As a result, it felt awkward and forced as they asked her about school, and what she liked doing. Ada had been particularly excited when Evie had quietly mumbled something about enjoying reading. Apparently her aunt had quite the library upstairs.

“Only Tommy is the other reader in this house,” she explained calmly, smiling as she did so. “Half the books are his but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind you borrowing them, would you Tom?”

Tommy - her father, she thought hastily, trying to make it stick - merely nodded. “Course not.”

“Thank you,” Evie mumbled, dropping her eyes back down the table. Her skin felt like it was crawling under the weight of the numerous pairs of eyes. She hoped it was clear she didn’t feel much like talking about herself, but the curiosity was clearly too much for the Shelbys as they continued to take it in turns to ask her questions about herself, her life, her likes and dislikes.

It felt a test. One which Evie was too terrified to fail.

At least Tommy and Pol took it upon themselves to act as chaperones, chiming in to bat away awkward questions or divert the conversation back from anything that made Evie look even more uncomfortable.

She wondered if they could smell it on her, rolling off in waves like some terrified dog. They seemed to detect it, or at least Arthur and John did, grilling her far more intensely than the others. Everyone else looked merely intrigued or excited to have her there.

What had she got thrown into? And was it too late to clamber back out of it?

------

After dinner, she had been shown upstairs by Polly whilst the others remained downstairs to continue their argument from earlier, now that she was no longer present to hear it. Apparently they wanted more answers than Tommy seemed willing to supply. Evie could still hear their raised voices as they made their way down the hallway and towards the bedroom ahead.

“I… I really am sorry, Polly,” Evie finally gulped, drawing to a halt. The guilt that had been brewing inside all day had finally bubbled over as she fought back the urge to cry. “I didn’t meant to cause trouble. I never asked for any of this and the last thing I want is to be intruding somewhere I’m not wanted-”

Polly silenced the girl immediately. Her hand was cold but comforting as she cupped it against the girl’s cheek and pulled her attention solely to her. “No. None of that, thank you,” she stated sharply. “We Shelbys never apologise for existing, you understand me? We’re family. We take care of each other, no matter what. The others are too hot headed to remember that just yet but they’ll get there, even if Tommy and I have to ram it into them ourselves.”

“But-”

“But nothing,” she continued firmly, sensing the rising hysteria inside of the girl. She was quick to quash it. “I knew you were family the minute I saw your eyes. Tommy’s eyes… you have his courage in you too, I know it. You just need to find it if you plan on staying here in Birmingham. This ain’t a place for the soft hearted, Evie.”

Evie nodded weakly, letting the words settle in the air and inside of her. “Alright.”

“Good.” Polly seemed pleased with her acknowledgement. Her smile was clear as she released her and gently guided her toward the door next to them. “Now that that’s settled, this is your room here.”

A room? A whole room? For herself?

The fact it had now been declared as her own was an odd feeling… as if she was being granted something that didn’t truly belong to her, or at least shouldn’t. The feeling only intensified as Evie watched the door open, revealing the room inside.

The room wasn’t much but considering the state of the small house she and her mother had shared the past twelve years, Evie felt her jaw drop. There was so much room. The fact she had enough space to walk without edging round the bed was already an improvement.

The soft sheets looked clean and comfortable, matching the faded paper on the walls. She liked the pale blue as well as the fact she had her own fireplace in the room. She knew without asking it would be a blessing in the winter months up here.

“Your father is on the other side of the wall and Ada is opposite, if you need anything whilst you’re here. I also live just down the street, as does John and Martha.”

“Thank you.”

“Is it just the two cases?”

Evie nodded, somehow embarrassed by the fact her life had been condensed to two suitcases. Even then, there were a few of her mother’s items in them too. “I never needed much. I had all I needed.”

“Well, at least I don’t have to worry about you being spoilt then,” Polly chuckled, helping her lift them onto the bed. “It’ll be a nice change considering your Aunt Ada was always obsessed with buying up half of Birmingham. She still is, mind you. I doubt she keeps any of her wages considering she always has a new coat or hat whenever I see her.”

“She looks pretty.”

“A right Shelby, that one,” Polly grinned. “A delicate flower on the outside, a little devil on the inside.”

Evie paused. It was odd to think of her new family described in such a way. Then again, the whole thing still felt odd. These people were strangers and yet, just because of some court order, they were to become family. The people she trusted and loved most in the world. After all, that was what her mother had always taught it to mean.

“Am… you said you knew I had Shelby blood in me?”

“I did.”

“Did you know my mother? Her parents?”

“A bit. I saw her whenever Tommy brought her round,” Polly explained, strolling towards the window. She began to pull the lace curtains shut, blocking out the dark sky and evening chill. “I also knew your maternal grandparents… they used to own a bakery. A nice one too but that disappeared after they died, before you were born.”

Evie nodded, trying to picture such people. She only had the photo from beside her mother’s bed to offer a clue as to her past. “Really?”

Pol nodded. “Really. We can talk more about them tomorrow, if you like?”

“I’d love that.”

“Well then, you’ll need to get some sleep. It’s been a long day for you. Just remember the rules; No smoking, no drinking and keep this room tidy,” she ordered sternly, even if she doubted this child would need the same lecture she’d given to her relatives. “You do that and we’re going to have no trouble between us.”

“I… I can do that.”

“Good.”

Polly smiled once more before leaving her to it. Evie noticed how she had paused for a moment, as if debating whether to hug her or press a kiss to her brow. Clearly she decided now was not the right moment for such affection. Not when they hadn’t even spent a day together. However, Polly was clearly a kind, maternal woman.

Evie was grateful to have her here. She knew would be easier with her as an ally to watch over her.

Still, any optimism dwindled as the woman closed the door and disappeared back downstairs. It was why she chose to keep herself occupied, to unpack rather than dwell on the day so far.

Evie dressed quickly, swapping into her nightclothes and putting her day dress away with the rest of her belongings. There weren’t many to fold and tuck into the drawers, but she took her time, trying her best to do it as her mother had shown her before.

She then turned to the last of her belongings, scattering her photos and trinkets on the counters and windowsill.

Each book was placed tenderly and attentively onto the shelf, in the correct order. A few minutes more and the room was in as good a state as Evie could get it considering her meagre possessions. But it would do, for now. Ada had already volunteered to take her shopping later that week to gather some more things now that she was staying.

The thought was exciting, as was having her own room. In that regard, Evie could see her mother’s intentions. The Shelbys were comfortable here, with their business, whatever being a bookie actually meant. At twelve, Evie hadn’t had much interaction with any bookies before. However, it was clearly a successful enough enterprise if they could afford to put food on the table and buy new stockings or coats whenever theirs needed replacing.

At least she would be cared for here, if not loved.

A knock startled her from her thoughts.

“Yes?”

The door swung open slowly, revealing Tommy in the doorway. The sight was still an unfamiliar one. It wasn’t that he himself was unnerving, more the idea that he was now here. A permanent fixture in her life.

“I just wanted to check you had everything before I turned in for the night,” he offered by way of an explanation, gesturing to the room. “Did Pol show you where everything is?”

Evie smiled gratefully. “She did, and I do. Thank you.”

“Right… night then.”

Tommy nodded, loitering a moment more as if unsure what he was supposed to do next in this situation. It wasn’t as if either of them had a guide to this situation. There wasn’t exactly a normal way of handling this.

As if sensing her apprehension, he stepped into the room and smiled in encouragement. “You look like Finn when you do that. He pulls that face when he’s about to cry. Why? What is it?”

Evie didn’t know what to say or how to say it. Instead, she stood there, tightening the nightshirt around her, only her fingers protruding from the lengthy sleeves. “I… I don’t want to sleep. I haven’t … I can’t. Not since…”

Tommy immediately understood. He knew what she spoke of. After all, it had not been so long ago he’d lost his own mother. He knew what it was to lose someone who provided such comfort and support as Rebecca appeared to have gifted her daughter. It may have only been a couple days since he’d first met her, but it was easy to feel pity.

“It never stops, you know. The hurting,” he sighed, choosing his words carefully as he perched on the mattress. He patted the space beside him, encouraging her to clamber into bed. “Losing anyone is hard. You remember the good bits and try to forget the bad. Like… your mother. I remember how she always smelt like this French perfume her mother gave her one Christmas. I also remember she had dimples and would sometimes snort if I made her laugh too hard.”

Evie blinked as the ache intensified in her chest. It was hard to think of her like that. She also suspected Tommy Shelby wasn’t one for sharing such personal feelings. There was something cold about him, composed even, that she didn’t understand and it spooked her. Yet, here he was. Talking to her. Why? Was it to help her? Or was it to pacify her?

“But you have to move on,” Tommy continued. “You need to find a new reason to keep going. It’s hard to begin with, but not impossible. Your mother wouldn’t have wanted you to dwell.”

“I don’t know what she would have wanted anymore,” Evie confessed, doing her very best not to cry. She bit back her tears ferociously as she stared down at her lap. “I thought I knew her but apparently I was wrong.”

“We both were.”

If only that was a comfort.

“We’re also stuck with each other.”

Tommy scoffed in amusement at her honesty. “That we are. You’re a Shelby now, no matter what the others downstairs say. I’ve put them straight and told them I won’t stand for any of them making you uncomfortable, alright?”

Evie nodded. “But what does that mean? Being a Shelby?”

“It means, we take care of our own.” The words seemed to resonate from somewhere deep within him. It wasn’t as if Tommy had to even think about them. They just poured out of him, easy as breathing. “I know you probably won’t, but I’m sure Pol told you I’m next door… if you need me.”

Evie nodded again. “She did.”

“Good… And I’m not sure how much help it’ll be but… Your mother… She gave me this to give you, if you ever ended up here in this situation. Hopefully it’ll explain some things.”

Evie stared as he reached into his waistcoat pocket and retrieved a folded, battered looking envelope. Evie could already see her name on it, written neatly in her mother’s hand. To his credit, the envelope was still sealed. He hadn’t opened it or read it.

“Thanks,” she sniffed, wiping her eyes as she nestled under the covers, holding the letter close to her chest. The last words her mother would say to her, resting next to her heart.

“You’re welcome,” Tommy croaked, avoiding her eye as he stood and brushed himself off. “I’ll leave you to it. Good night.”

“Good night, Tommy.”

With that, she was left in the darkness, finally succumbing to her exhaustion.

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uenodivision · 3 years ago

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Sakurai Clan Drama Track 1 - So It Goes.

Pt. 4

-- Yanaka Cemetery, Ueno Division --

[The time was approximately 6:20 P.M., meaning the sun was setting just below the city line, and night was approaching, though light was still present in the sky. The city's cemetery, Yanaka Cemetery, was peaceful during this time of day, or rather, the moment was very tranquil. The wind was blowing, scattering the cherry blossom petals along the pathway and onto some of the graves.]

[Walking through the cemetery, the figures of Kisouna and Yomi Yuzairu, who was holding her mother's hand, stopped at a not-so-small gravesite which read: 'Here lies Saito Yuzairu: A loving husband and a good father. May he R.I.P.']

[Kneeling downward, the attorney placed a small bouquet of red and white roses atop the gravesite before standing back up, still holding onto her daughter.]

Kisouna: *smiling sadly* Hello, my husband. It’s good to speak with you again. *Pats her daughter’s head* I brought our daughter with me today.

Yomi: *Waves at the gravesite* Hi daddy.

Kisouna: *Smiles at her daughter before looking back at the grave* I'm sorry we haven't come to see you in a long while. A lot of things have happened since we last spoke.

Yomi: *Excited* Yeah! Mommy's going to enter a song tournament!

Kisouna: *Laughs at her daughter* Yes, like our daughter said, I'm entering a tournament alongside two others. The three of us are...

[As the widow continued speaking to the grave (with her daughter interceding at some points), the figures of Aranai Norikoru and Shisuta Heisha were a ways away from their teammate, silently watching her. The nun had a smile on her face as she looked at her friend and daughter, whilst the former Bōsōzoku was leaning against a tree with her hands behind her head, a bored look on her face.]

Shisuta: *Notices Aranai's facial features* Something bothering you, Aranai?

Aranai: *Shrugs her shoulders, still bored* Not really. Just never been a big fan of cemeteries.

Shisuta: Ah. Do they frighten you?

Aranai: *Looks at her friend, an incredulous look on her face* What? No!

Shisuta: Ah, my apologies. Then how exactly do they bother you?

Aranai: *Shrugs her shoulders again, frowning* I don't know. I just don't really see the point in them, is all.

Shisuta: *Frowns a bit* What do you mean? Cemeteries are places to honor the dead and comfort their souls. It's a place for people who have embarked upon the 'eternal sleep'.

Aranai: *Looks at Shisuta, frowning* Okay, one: please don't say those kind of things around me. And two: I obviously know that. I just don't see the point in remembering something that's no longer here.

Shisuta: *Looks at Aranai, shocked* Aranai-chan, I cannot believe what I am hearing. You surely cannot mean that.

Aranai: *Shrugs, not bothered by what she said as she looks out in the distance* I just don't see the need or the point in dredging up things that already happened. The past is the past. People should let it stay there.

Aranai: *Looks back at Shisuta* What good does bringing up old stuff or honoring the dead do?

[Listening to her leader talk, the Catholic nun's frown deepened. Though she knew Aranai was only speaking that way because of her age and naivety, Shisuta still did not like hearing her friend speak that way.]

Shisuta: You say that honoring the dead does no good?

Aranai: *Shrugs again* Pretty much. *Looks off in the distance and spots something* Prime example...

[Shisuta looked as Aranai pointed to a young couple who were standing by a gravesite, a ways away from where Kisouna and Yomi were. The woman had both hands over her eyes as she was sobbing, whilst the man had a comforting hand on her shoulder.]

Aranai: Coming here to this place is obviously causing that woman a lot of grief. So why come?

Aranai: *Puts her hand back down and leans back against the tree* Places like these only exist to make people miserable.

Shisuta: *Shakes her head 'no'* I have to disagree. *Looks back at the mourning woman* You say that this place serves to make people miserable or has no meaning. I don't believe so.

Shisuta: I think... the meaning helps those who were left behind come to terms with reality.

Aranai: *Cocks an eye at Shisuta* Reality?

Shisuta: *Nods* Yes. *Looks back at the woman* This place helps to let people know that though their loved ones are no longer here physically, they are still with them in mind and spirit.

Shisuta: *Looks around the cemetery* This place is filled with memories. Some good, and some sad. Being here helps one to remember all those moments they had. They are a... treasure.

Aranai: *Looks around the cemetery* But this is just a place. Memories are something you have with you all the time, right?

Shisuta: *Smiles* We humans have a tendency to give meaning to places and things.

Aranai: *Looks off sideways* Not me.

Shisuta: Oh? *Still smiling* Then what about your motorbike that you seem to care so much for?

Aranai: *Looks at Shisuta, surprised before frowning* That's different!

Shisuta: *Continues smiling* Oh? And in what way?

[As she opened her mouth to speak, the former Bōsōzoku slowly closed it. Why did she keep her Yamaha around? Was it because it was just her preferred way of transportation? No, that wasn't it. If she had said that, she'd just be lying to Shisuta and herself. No, the real reason she liked, no, loved that bike was because it reminded her of the days when she and her gang were together.]

[Realizing the nun's point, the group leader groaned and just looked away, refusing to look at the nun, who was no doubt smiling as she had given Aranai something to ponder about. After several minutes, the duo looked as Kisouna and her daughter walked up to them.]

Kisouna: Sorry for the wait.

Shisuta: *Still smiling* It's no trouble. *Looks down at Yomi* And how was your talk with your daddy, Yomi-chan?

Yomi: *Beams* Good! I told Daddy all about how school is!

Shisuta: That's truly outstanding, Yomi-chan. I'm sure he's very happy to hear that.

[Aranai, who chose not to include herself in the conversation, still had her back to the tree, a bored look on her face. However, a frown soon replaced it as she suddenly started looking around, alert.]

Shisuta: *Notices her teammate's behavior* Something wrong, Aranai-chan?

Aranai: *Doesn't answer right away* ...Anyone else notice how quiet this place got all of a sudden?

[The attorney prepared to open her mouth, stating that cemeteries were supposed to be quiet. However, after carefully listening to her surroundings, she noticed that her team leader was correct: it was far too quiet.]

[A 'caw caw' was heard as a bird on a nearby tombstone flew away towards the entrance, making the four females turn their attention to it. Their eyes grew wide as suddenly surrounding them were a group of miscreants, serious looks on each of their faces. They all looked to out-of-sorts to be called a gang, but the looks on their faces made them seem too focused to be called thugs, either.]

[What drew the women's attention was what each man had in one of their hands: a microphone. It was highly unlikely that Chuohku would send a bunch of thugs a pair of Hypnosis Microphones, so there was only one explanation: they were all illegal mics.]

Aranai: *Glares at the gang* Who the hell are you losers?

[If the gang heard the team leader's question, they chose not to respond.]

Kisouna: *Also glaring at the gang* She asked you all a question. Identify yourselves at once.

Yomi: *Hiding behind her mother* M-m-mommy?

[Shushing her daughter, the attorney and the rest of SC looked as the gang parted, making way for an elderly gentleman wearing a black tuxedo with a green vest and carrying a brown and gold walking cane, though he was not using it.]

???: Would you three happen to be the Ueno Division's team, Sakurai Clan?

Aranai: *Glaring at the old man* Who the hell wants to know, Gramps?

Shisuta: *Frowns at Aranai, before looking at the old man* Forgive me, but you seem to have us at a disadvantage. May we know who you are?

???: Ah, of course. Please forgive me. *The old man bows placing his right hand over his chest* I am Akiharu Hino, head retainer of the Chōten family.

Kisouna: Chōten? *Kisouna frowns, as her brain tries to remember exactly where she's heard that name from*

Shisuta: I see. And is there something we can do for you, Hino-san?

Hino: My master, Tomi Chōten, wishes to speak with you all. Thus, he has invited you all to join him for dinner at his residence in Aoyama.

Aranai: *Scoffs* Ha! Invited? Give me a break!

Aranai: If this is just an invitation... *Aranai waves her at the thugs still staring at the Ueno team, poised and ready to attack* ...Then what the heck is up with your Goon Squad here?

Kisouna: *Nods* I have to agree with my friend. Judging from the appearance of these men, this doesn't seem to be an invitation we can refuse, is it?

Hino: *Sighs* Sadly, my lady, you are correct. My master was rather... insistent that I have you three there, and he wouldn't take anything less than a 'yes', I'm afraid.

[Both Aranai and Kisouna continued to frown at the gang and the old man, but subtly exchanged a nod with one another as their hands were in their respective pockets, feeling for their Hypnosis Microphones.]

Kisouna: *Has her hand wrapped around her mic in her pocket* Well, I am sorry to disappoint you, good sir. But I am afraid we must refuse your master's gracious invite. Perhaps another time, if possible.

Hino: *Sighs* As I stated, my lady, I am afraid I cannot refuse my master's orders, no matter what they may be.

Aranai: *Chuckles, taking out her mic* You really wanna do this, Gramps? Fine with me!

[As Aranai was about to make the first move, she looked as Shisuta placed an arm in front of her, halting her movement.]

Kisouna: *Surprised* Shisuta?

Aranai: *Shocked and upset* What the heck are you doing?

Shisuta: *Speaking out loud to everyone* I feel it would be very rude and disrespectful to disturb the slumber of those resting here.

Aranai: *Upset* Seriously, Shisuta?! Now is not the time for religious rules and stuff.

Kisouna: I have to agree, Shisuta. This isn't my ideal place for a battle either, but we have no choice.

Shisuta: *Frowns at her teammates* Do you two really want to battle in a cemetery? In front of a child?

[Pointing to Yomi, Kisouna and Aranai looked as the four-year-old was still clinging to her mother's skirt, scared.]

Shisuta: *Looks at Hino* We will accept your invitation, on the terms that you and your... friends agree not to do any of us any harm.

Hino: *Bows* Of course not. Thank you very much, milady.

20 minutes later...

-- Chōten Residence, Aoyama Division --

[After a tense, but uneventful ride in a long, black limousine, the group of SC finally arrived at their destination: a large, inconspicuous mansion that easily took up several acres of land. For the most part, the three women were impressed, though considering their current circumstance, they knew to be on their guard.]

Kisouna: *Whispers to Aranai as they step out of the car* Are you sure Yomi will be alright?

Aranai: *Whispers back* Yomi will be fine. Kaba promised to text me if anything happened... not that anything should happen.

[Before leaving, Kisouna requested that she leave her daughter behind with Aranai's friends. Though Yomi begged to come with her, Kisouna's decision was final, though she knew how upset her daughter would be.]

Kisouna: I'll have to buy her some cake to make it up to her when this is over.

[Sensing her friend's distress, Shisuta placed a comforting hand on Kisouna's shoulder, smiling at her, which prompted the attorney to smile back. Their attention was drawn to Hino, who walked in front of them.]

Hino: *Looking at the Ueno team* I thank you all again for agreeing to my master's request. I apologize greatly for the methods I used to obtain your cooperation.

Hino: *Bows to SC* I humbly beg your forgiveness.

[Sensing the sincerity in the old man's voice, Shisuta stepped forward.]

Shisuta: It is fine. Though our introduction could have been better, we thank you for doing no harm to us or my friend's daughter.

Shisuta: *Bows back* You are forgiven, Hino-san.

Aranai: Tch, speak for yourself...

Hino: *Bows again* Thank you kindly, my lady. *Raises his head* If you'll follow me, I'll introduce you to my master.

[Leading the way, the Ueno Division team followed the old butler as he walked up the stairs to the entranceway, through the front door.]

Aranai: *Rubbing her left arm* This place makes my shoulder blades itch.

Kisouna: *Follows behind Aranai* I'm in agreement. *Looks around* It feels as if I'm being scrutinized.

Shisuta: That is simply because we are all out of our comfort zones. *Looks at her teammates, smiling* Let us be done with our business here and return to Ueno quickly, shall we?

Aranai: Peh, you'll get no argument here from me.

Kisouna: Indeed.

[Still following behind the old butler, the trio was led upstairs to the second story to an outdoor patio, where a long dining table with a graceful white tablecloth was situated. The table was elegantly set to serve up to eight people. Standing in front of the table, looking out over the district of Aoyama, were three men communicating with one another.]

Hino: *Bowing with his hand over his chest* My lord, I've returned. *Turns back to the women*

Hino: Ladies Aranai, Shisuta, Kisouna, may I introduce to you, *Points to the heaviest man of the trio with muscles on him* ...Master Karada Kessaku...

Karada: *Turns to the women, putting his right hand up in the air* What's up?!

Hino: *Points to the tallest of three men* ...Master Luis Kōkyū...

Luis: *Turns to the women, nodding his head at them, a neutral expression on his face* A pleasure.

Hino: ...And lastly, my master and leader, Master Tomi Chōten.

[The last one in the group, the man in the middle, slowly turned around, revealing his features to the group, who were surprised to see that he was a young man, still in his early-to-mid 20s.]

Tomi: *A smirk appears on his face as he bows before SC* A pleasure to meet you, Sakurai Clan. *Raises back up* I thank you dearly for accepting my invitation.

Aranai: *Scowls and scoffs* 'Invitation?' Yeah right. Is that what you call sending your thugs to ambush us into getting to meet with you?

Shisuta: Aranai!

Tomi: *Places his left hand over his body, bowing* My apologies. I instructed Hino-san to use any means necessary to get you to come. I apologize if I've offended or hurt you in any way.

[Aranai and Kisouna felt their faces frown, as their disliking for this man was slowly rising. Though his apology sounded sincere, they could tell that it had a somewhat mocking tone to it.]

Tomi: *Notes the ladies' frowns, but continues smirking* Again, I sincerely apologize. If it will make you feel better, I can have the Aoyama Police Department send some units down to apprehend the men who ambushed you.

Kisouna: *Still frowning* Thank you, but there is no need. The crime happened in our city of Ueno. Therefore, we will take care of it ourselves.

Shisuta: *Looks worriedly at Kisouna* Kisouna-san...

Tomi: *Looks surprised, but shrugs it off* If that is what you desire, then I shall respect your wishes.

Aranai: Tch, don't make it seem like you're doing us a favor, pal.

Tomi: Well then... *Waves his hand over the table* ...Shall we have dinner?

Five minutes later...

[Within a few minutes, everyone present was seated at the table with a plate of food in front of them. Except for Shisuta, who had a simple plate of salad, everyone was served a cooked steak with melting butter on top and lettuce beneath it, along with a side of peas and fries. To complete it, everyone also had a glass of red wine beside them.]

[While the men of the table were talking and eating with no complaint, the three women felt a bit awkward, despite the free meal. Though the dinner didn't seem to have any ulterior motives, they could not help but feel that there was more to this than Tomi was letting on. Truthfully, the young socialite could tell the women were feeling uncomfortable, and he was enjoying every second of it.]

Tomi: *Notes the girls' expression* Is something wrong? Is the meal not to your liking?

Shisuta: *Looks up from her salad, surprised* N-no! No, we are thankful for the meal you've prepared, Tomi-san. Really, we are. *Bows her head in 'thanks'*

Shisuta: It is just... we are simply wondering... well, what exactly the purpose of all of this is...?

Kisouna: I have to agree. *Puts down her dinner fork* You can't have called the three of us out here simply for a dinner.

[Tomi felt himself smirking, inwardly. He heard about the intellect and intuition of the Ueno team. And it seems he was not mistaken.]

Tomi: *Takes a sip of his wine before placing it down* You are correct. There is a reason I called you here.

Tomi: As you are no doubt aware, the Division Rap Battle tournament will be commencing in just a week or so. *Places his hands in front of him* And as the bracket shows, the first match will be between the Ueno team, Sakurai Clan, and the Aoyama team, the Jet Set Trio.

Karada: That's us, yo! *Points to himself and his friends*

Luis: Yes, I think they realized that already, Karada.

Kisouna: Of course! That's why the name 'Chōten' sounded so familiar! He's the leader of the Aoyama team, Jet Set Trio! How could I forget something so important?

[As the prosecuting attorney was mentally chastising herself, she snapped out of her reverie when she heard her leader speak.]

Aranai: So... what? Is this meal supposed to be some way to wish us 'good luck' or something?

Tomi: Not exactly. *Chuckles softly to himself* I called you here because I think that we all can agree that this D.R.B. is just Chuhoku's way of trying to assert their dominance over all the divisions.

Kisouna: *Nods in agreement* True. This is actually we... *Points to herself and her teammates* ...had discussed before.

Tomi: *Nods back* Yes. And knowing them and their methods, they probably coerced you into joining like they did us, correct?

Aranai: *Looks away, upset* Tch, that's an understatement...

Tomi: Therefore, I think it behooves all of us that the least number of teams available would be for the best.

[The women of Sakurai Clan felt themselves frown in confusion, as they knew not what the young socialite was alluding to.]

Kisouna: *Still frowning* Forgive me, Tomi-san, but what exactly are you saying?

[Looking to one of his servants who was standing diligently by the entranceway, the young socialite nodded to him, which prompted the servant to walk over to the women. Taking something out of his pocket, the females looked as a red envelope was placed in front of each of them. Looking at each other, the women picked up their respective envelopes and could feel that they were filled with something. As a prosecuting attorney and a former Bōsōzoku, both Kisouna and Aranai already had a pretty good idea of what was inside.]

[Opening them up, their suspicions were confirmed as inside each of them was a large bundle of money, close to ¥100,000,000.]

Tomi: *Places his hands in front of him* I'll be frank with you: my associates and I would like you to forfeit our match in the D.R.B. The amount placed in each of your envelopes is equivalent to how much you'd have received if you won the competition.

[As they heard Tomi speak, the women's eyes grew large and they knew not whether it was because of his words or the money they had in their hands. It was now plain to all what exactly this was: a bribe. And as such, Aranai could not stop herself from laughing, drawing attention to everyone present.]

Aranai: *Still chuckling* Really? So, that's what this is all about? Your attempt at getting an easy win? You don't have the balls to face us, so your option is to instead try to get us to quit so you can get off scot-free?

Karada: Woah, hold on there! *Stands up* You're making it sound like we're cowards or something!

Aranai: *Looks at Karada* Yeah, that's exactly what I'm making it sound like!

Kisouna: I have to agree. *Stands up* This attempt at bribery is in not only in poor taste, but it is also very cowardly. If you actually believed that we'd accept your proposal, then I'm sorry to say, you're gravely mistaken.

Shisuta: *Places her arms in front of Aranai and Kisouna* What my friends are trying to say is, though we are grateful for your offer, we sadly cannot accept it.

Tomi: Oh, and may I know the reason why?

Shisuta: *Sighs* Tomi-san, please try to look at this from our perspective. If you were in our place and someone had tried to bribe you, would you accept?

Tomi: *Scoffs* Of course not.

Shisuta: *Smiles* Then, surely you can see...

Tomi: *Interrupts* However... *Stands up* ...I am not you.

Shisuta: *Shocked* ...I am... sorry?

Tomi: As I stated, I am not you. I am of high class, one born above the likes of you peasants. If anything, you all should be honored to be in my presence. And now that I graciously offer you a proposal, you choose to throw in back in my face.

Tomi: *Scowls at the women* That, I cannot forgive.

[At this, all six people felt themselves scowling at one another, even Luis, who was silently eating his meal, stood along Karada and Tomi, frowning at his opponents. Shisuta, the peaceful one of the SC, also could not hold back the frown on her face. The six people stood there for over a minute staring at each other in distaste before Kisouna spoke.]

Kisouna: I feel our time here is now over. Thank you all for the meal and your time. *Turns to leave*

Shisuta: *Bows her head at JST, still frowning* May the Lord continue to bless and keep you. *Follows behind Kisouna*

[Aranai simply scoffed as she turned to follow her friends out of the house.]

Tomi: *Smirks* Yes, run back to that cesspool that you call Ueno City.

[At that, Aranai slowly stopped and turned around, glaring daggers at the JST leader. Slowly walking back to the table, she stood there silently before looking down at the red envelope that she and the others had left behind. Picking it up, she felt that the money was still inside. Holding it up, she did something that shocked and surprised everyone present. Turning it sideways, the former Bōsōzoku ripped up the envelope in half with the money still inside and proceeded to tear it up before throwing it in the air. Noting the shocked look on the young socialite's face, she smirked and again walked out, throwing JST "the bird" as she left.]

A week and a half later...

-- Division Rap Battle Coliseum, Chuohku Ward --

[The Day of the Division Rap Battle Tournament had finally arrived, as the coliseum was packed to the brim with people from all throughout Japan, ready and waiting for the show to get underway. The bracket for the tournament was still unknown, but the divisions representing would be: Ueno, Aoyama, Harajuku, Saitama, Shinagawa, Kyoto, and much more.]

[Speaking of the Ueno team, the Sakurai Clan patiently waited for their time to come in one of the rooms in the coliseum. Aranai sat in one of the lounge chairs in the room, cleaning her Hyp Mic with a white cloth. Shisuta was on the ground, sitting on her legs with her hands clasped together and her eyes closed, silently praying. And lastly, Kisouna, who was also sitting in one of the lounge chairs was silently staring at the wedding ring her husband had given her on their wedding day. She wasn't as devout as Shisuta, but she silently prayed he and her daughter, who was in the stands with Aranai's friends, would give her the strength she needed to win this day.]

[On the other side of the building in another room, the Jet Set Trio of Aoyama also waited for their time to come. Tomi, the leader, was on the phone with his mother and father, who were also in the stands, wishing him the best of luck. Karada was on the ground, grunting as he was doing sit-ups, getting himself pumped and motivated. And Luis was on his phone, looking at a picture of him and his Abuela, his face in a neutral position. She, unfortunately, could not make it to the event, but she promised that she'd be with him there in spirit.]

[Five minutes later, all of the Division teams were out center stage in front of the crowd. Different cheers and chants could be heard as they were all rooting for their respective Divisions to win. Standing in front of the teams was none other than the Deputy Prime Minister, Ichijiku Kadenokoji. A spotlight appeared from above shining down on her as she raised her right arm in the air.]

Ichijiku: The time for the final part of the Division Rap Battle Tournament will now commence!

[At her announcement, the audience began screaming and cheering in anticipation. More lights above came on, showing all of the various teams from the Divisions. Some reveled in the cheer and admiration of the crowds, while some wished they were somewhere else, and others paid no attention, just ready and eager to get started.]

Ichijiku: Before we begin, the Prime Minister and leader of the Party of Words, Ms. Otome Tohoten, would like to speak a few words. You will all give her your undivided attention!

[At this, an image of the Chairwoman's face appeared on the large TV screen in the Coliseum. Her appearance was met with mixed reactions, especially from the teams. Some kept their faces neutral, while most did not bother to hide their disdain or hatred from the woman who was responsible for their not only being there but also for directly or indirectly ruining their lives.]

Otome: The time of using profane weapons and cheap trickery to win a fight has come to an end. A new age has arrived, one where not swords or fists win the day, but the power of one's words. All of you use words to protect and conquer territories. This is undeniable proof that words will always be more powerful than weapons ever could be.

Aranai: *Scowls* This bitch sure loves to hear herself talk, doesn't she?

Kisouna: *Scowls* She reminds me of my opposition: they use a lot of words, but they're really not saying much in the end.

Tomi: *Glares* You'll pay for threatening my family one day, Otome. I promise you that.

Otome: *Holds up a Hypmic* Now, with your Hypnosis Microphone in hand, demonstrate the power of your words, and achieve unconditional victory! The Division Rap Battle Tournament will now begin!

[After her short speech, the Division teams gathered around as Ichijiku explained the rules. After a flip of the coin determining who would strike first, the other teams save for the ones from Ueno and Aoyama remained on stage. The two teams activated their Hyp Microphones before staring each down.]

Ichijiku: Now, if nothing further, it is time to start! Get ready...

BRING THE BEAT!!!

The End

#hypnosis mic #hypnosis microphone #hypmic #hypmic oc #hypnosis mic oc #aranai norikoru #shisuta heisha #kisouna yuzairu #ueno division #sakurai clan #tomi chōten #karada kessaku #luis kōkyū #aoyama division #jet set trio #drama track #so it goes

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elskamo · 4 years ago

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Aleduncan Week, Day 2

How on earth did I write over 1300 words for this!? It’s Day 2 of Aleduncan Week so I’ve combined the prompts for Coming Out, Confessions, and Pride. This one hints at some darker stuff in places but is otherwise pretty positive towards the end. I’ve also referenced a few popular ships and headcanons throughout too. I really hope you guys enjoy this one, it took me so long to finish:

To say Total Drama hadn’t aged well was an understatement. As the show’s ten year anniversary was coming up and Chris went into overdrive trying to create a big enough buzz to warrant another season much of the contestants past behaviour was dredged up again. Homophobic remarks, transphobic jokes, there was even a passionate argument from one news outlet around deliberately queerbaiting audiences and refusing to acknowledge contestant’s LGBT+ identities on the show. The backlash became so great there was only one thing to do…

Duncan kept his hoodie up over his head as he stomped over to the float. He couldn’t believe Chris was making them do this. He could have made a half-assed apology on social media or talked to a journalist about how ‘it was a different time back then’. But no, he had to make a huge show of sponsoring one of the biggest Pride events in the country and buying a whole damn float for the old castmates to ride during the parade. So maybe Duncan had contributed to some of the controversies on the show… okay, he’d been responsible for a lot of them, but did he really have to take part in some glorified publicity stunt to make up for it? It was ten years ago!

As the young man weaved his way through the swarm of people he finally reached his old teammates getting ready. He immediately noticed Geoff and Bridgette together stringing some lights up on the side of the vehicle but who was that other guy with them and why was he holding Geoff’s free hand? DJ wandered over to help the group, but his look was a lot gloomier than Duncan remembered; his entire outfit was coloured black, white, grey, and purple. Had he gone goth or something? Glancing around he recognised Owen and Noah talking to some guy in a leotard and another dork with glasses, neither of which Duncan could place. Owen was doing his usual touchy feely crap, but Noah was being surprisingly cool about it, he was even smiling!

Walking away from what was possibly the creepiest thing he had ever witnessed in his adult life Duncan doubled back, hopefully he could just hide out in the public bathroom and no one would notice he hadn’t shown up. Even with all the noise around him he could still hear giggling coming from the women’s room. Rolling his eyes the former convict made a beeline for the men’s room until another round of giggles made him stop in his tracks. He knew that laugh… Staring down the door he gently pushed it open, his eyes widening in shock as he witnessed Courtney and Heather making out against the countertop.

The door slammed as Duncan let go, bolting as far away from the scene as possible, pushing and shoving anyone that got in his way. Why did he bother coming? He shouldn’t be here, he couldn’t handle this! The whole world felt blurred as he ran, it was only when he slammed into something hard that his vision began to clear. Blinking away the tears he hadn’t realised were falling he found himself face to face with one of the last people he wanted to see.

To his credit, Alejandro hadn’t made a big deal about the situation and for that Duncan was grateful. The two were sat in one of the big chain coffee shops nearby, Alejandro insisting that the two of them had time to spare and of course he didn’t mind paying for drinks. He was sat opposite him now in the booth, calmly sipping his tea in silence while Duncan huddled up even more in his hoodie, as if the dark garment would hide him somehow. After ten minutes without any talking he finally spoke up, “You know our ex-girlfriends are sucking face right now don’t you?”

Alejandro raised his eyebrow, “Well they have been dating for almost six years.” Noting the look of shock on Duncan’s face he continued, “They ended up rooming together at college, they made amends with each other, and when Heather came out we broke up and she asked out Courtney. They make a pretty cute couple.” Duncan frowned in confusion, “So they’re both... lesbians?” “Heather’s a lesbian, as far as I know Courtney identifies as bisexual.”

Duncan leaned back, seemingly trying to process that information, “But everyone else is still straight, right?” Alejandro held back a laugh, “Some people still identify as straight. Some have come to terms with their identity or are still exploring it. A few of us were already out during the show but are more open about it now.” He gestured towards his tank top which Duncan finally took notice of, it looked like a pink, yellow, and blue flag though Duncan had no idea what the colours meant. “The show wasn’t really the most… accepting place to talk about this kind of thing. One or two of us might bring it up our dating lives or lack thereof off camera otherwise we just didn’t mention it. The producers pretty much axed all the footage they deemed ‘unsuitable’ anyway.”

There was a clear edge to Alejandro’s voice that caught Duncan off guard. The other man took a large gulp from his drink while the delinquent stared down into his still full mug. Duncan fiddled with his jacket zipper for a couple of minutes while the silence set in once again. His brow furrowed as he seemingly came to a decision, his eyes stayed focused on his drink as he spoke, “Sorry I don’t really get this kinda stuff, it’s never really come up before.” “Never?” “My family don’t talk about it. I mean, a few of them were discussing the whole gay marriage thing in America a couple years ago but…”

As Duncan trailed off Alejandro sat up in his seat, his companion still examining his untouched coffee. Choosing his words carefully he asked, “So do you still see your family often? Or have you moved in with a partner or…?” Duncan chuckled but he sounded far from amused, “No I’m still at home, went straight back to my childhood digs once my sentence was over. I haven’t really seen anyone since I got out, never got round to it I guess.” “Not still hung up on Courtney then?” “Oh god no!”

The two of them laughed humourlessly when Duncan finally looked Alejandro in the eye, “Honestly I wasn’t really all that sad when we broke up for good. I mean, yeah I missed having her around, but I wasn’t upset that the relationship was over. I don’t think I ever got upset during any of our splits. I didn’t really care when Gwen dumped me either…” A flash of understanding passed between them and Alejandro reached under the table to squeeze Duncan’s hand, “You know, it’d be good for you to join us today. Get some fresh air, see your old friends, get some closure. You might even have fun.”

Duncan hesitated and pulled back, leaving Alejandro’s hand hanging, “I don’t know, it’s kinda overwhelming out there, I should probably-” “One hour!” Both men jumped a little at Alejandro’s outburst, it seemed he’d even surprised himself. Clearing his throat Alejandro lowered his voice, “The parade is only an hour long, you could always stay with me while we’re out there and if you still wanna go… we can chill at my place for a bit?”

Alejandro silently cursed himself until Duncan gently tugged the zipper down on his hoodie, revealing his blank T-shirt, save for the little rainbow flag in the centre. “Let’s… get this over with I guess.” Duncan laughed awkwardly as the pair got up to leave. Taking a deep breath at the door the two men smiled at each other as Alejandro led Duncan back to the float. This time when he took his hand Duncan didn’t let go.

#total drama #total drama aleduncan #aleduncan #aleduncan week

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vroenis · 5 years ago

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Uncharted 4: An Era’s End

It’s recently come to light that game developer Naughty Dog has been subjecting its employees to crunch; the practice of overworking and underpaying staff in order to meet deadlines. This is not unique to Naughty Dog, nor to their current project pending release later this year, The Last Of US 2. Reports suggest that crunch has been endemic in the working culture of Naughty Dog for some time and this is now no surprise to us as such reports continue to surface about studio after studio, most in the corporately structured, premium funded and managed space we call “triple A” or AAA, but many smaller studios and independent spaces also. Several senior and long-tenured creatives have left Naughty Dog quite recently, and some may have been leaving earlier than those that have been reported during what’s turning out to be a turbulent development cycle for The Last Of Us 2.

Each month, as part of the paid subscription to the Playstation Plus online service, Sony offers a small selection of games. For April, one of them was Naughty Dog’s Uncharted 4: A Thief’s End, from which I derived my title. Not only am I here to suggest the studio’s troubles may have begun during the development of this game, first released back in 2016, but the title may have been one of the first significant indications that the book was closing on AAA development as we know it. I appreciate there have been many good voices shouting from the rooftops about the how unsustainable it’s been from before then, but the Naughty Dog for a long time seemed like a light in the dark, signalling that a big studio could still produce good product under strong leadership.

I feel that Uncharted 4 rather than The Last Of Us 2 is the real light, and instead of a light-house, it turned out to be a signal-fire warning that even then the composure of Naughty Dog was an illusion.

This piece is going to contain significant spoilers for Uncharted 4. It’s also not investigative - I just played it for the first time, completed it and I have some thoughts about it; these are my thoughts.

I didn’t like the third game at all. I took nothing away from it. I’ll never play it again as there’s nothing I want to relive from it, so I’d better look up the wiki on what happened in it... well that didn’t help at all as I don’t remember playing any of that, it was so unmemorable. I remember the wandering around in the desert bit and then some shooting in the desert which was all pointless. There were also some puzzles with shadow puppets that were almost good but so short and pointless, those two things sum up my feelings about the third game entirely.

What a way to start.

I’ve replayed the first and second games once each, so I’ve played those each twice thru and have decided that the first game is overlong and poorly paced, and the second game is the best and probably two-thirds good. Honestly, Elena should drop the Drakes in the ocean, run-off with Chloe and keep in touch with Sully because those are the only three characters with any depth and meaning. Let’s roll-back a bit.

I get that Nathan’s supposed to be a charming, happy-go-lucky character and for the most part, it works. Maybe I’m just getting too old for it or it’s wearing too thin. I really think the third game was completely unnecessary. When I review my notes on the fourth game, I think about the emotional quandary it attempts to set up i.e., ultimately that Nathan should be more honest with Elena - spoiler; he isn’t, but don’t worry it all works out *SPIT* - this was already a problem I was ready to face at the end of the second game. Given my feelings on the third game, I’d have much preferred a simple trilogy and conclusion that faced that emotional brunt to wrap things up. Naturally of-course, that’s not how money-spinners work.

If Uncharted 4 doesn’t spend time on Elena, who does it spend time on? Nathan has a brother! To be fair, I love Troy Baker as a voice actor and if there’s one thing that is consistent in Naughty Dog games, it’s excellent voice acting. I don’t know if I’m now biased after seeing so much of Nolan North and Troy Baker on YouTube outside of their VO talent work, but they’re wonderful people and their professional work is always great. The supporting cast is always great, too - so too the villains even if the narrative arcs are always completely absurd. I know these are always a bit of a lark, you can’t take them too seriously so I can’t hold Uncharted up to Kentucky Route Zero (got my mention in) and shake them comparatively, that’s not fair. It’s OK to have an excuse for a romp even if it does wear on a bit over time.

The problems I have with Uncharted 4 specifically are things like the level and environmental design. I’ve never gotten lost in this franchise up until now when it happened in almost every level... several times. I simply didn’t know where to go. There would be absolutely no clear indication of where to go and no assists, no subtle environmental guide and no camera nudges to help. There is a timer that eventually tells the player where to go and at times, this is tied to deaths so at one point I just threw Nathan off cliffs repeatedly to respawn until the hint appeared. This is unquestionably stupid design. I began to wonder if this was due to criticism that previous games had too much hand-holding, but when the UI assist was finally given and I made my way to the next check-point, I would *never* have found it under normal exploratory gameplay.

This remained true during several moments of scripted action sequences, some including during combat which brings up something else I now remember about the third game. I still couldn’t tell you when it was other than I didn’t know where to go and it was stupid, so there you have it. Maybe the third game was the real signal fire in my metaphor, who knows. In any case, constantly reverting to check-points and having to repeat, not understanding why you’re failing when the game isn’t telegraphing what you need for a success state in a scripted sequence is an exercise in frustration I’m not willing to ever repeat. While I’m not a souls-like player, I completely appreciate the admiration and respect for those games because they have rules that are clear to parse. Video games are *all about* providing feedback to the player. I’m not saying it’s easy, it is an incredibly difficult thing to achieve but it is literally the job you set out to do, it is the only vehicle you have to convey the lofty emotions you want to communicate to your audience.

And then there’s the driving. Naughty Dog. Do not put driving in your games. This is something you’re not able to do.

I don’t want to bash the driving so hard because at this point I feel like it may have been bolted on without time to make it stick correctly. This is the first game in the title where the hot-zones for interactions weren’t quite right. Where I bugged out of animations and had check-points or re-spawns instanced or loaded. Where I glitched out and fell off things, where I had to walk back and forth in-front of things to make buttons appear. The edges of that Naughty Dog polish were fraying. I’d attempt to do a thing and it just wouldn’t work, I’d fall to my death. I’d attempt to do the same thing the same way and it would work. Again this is dredging up more nondescript memories of the third game so I’m beginning to have my suspicions about the working environment there and when in the timeline things started getting bad - but cameras and jumping distances got really difficult to judge. One gap at one time would be fine to jump, then another would have you plunge to your death, and they’d be inconsistent to read or judge. These were not frequent, as with the third game, almost as if the artists and level designers were given time to adjust lighting and camera geometry tracking and control mapping as much as possible but just couldn’t get to them all. But throughout the games, it creeps in more and more.

I’d talk about combat - it’s functional, but it’s not interesting. These games don’t add anything interesting to the genre or video games in general. I play the games on easy because I don’t need to prolong the experience, I don’t actually have the physical time - if I could play the games without combat, I would. There are other games to play if I want dexterity challenges which I do engage in, Uncharted isn’t one of them. Even in 2016 I’m not entirely sure this would have turned heads. I realise I’m playing this a full four years later, but it’s hard to think of the sum-total of this game’s parts and see it as relevant...

But you know what? Uncharted 4 visually looks immaculate. Outside of the voice-acting and sound design, without question, the highest priority has been given to the visual fidelity of this game inclusive of the animations. So much has been invested in how the tech works, to the abandonment of everything else, I’d say the for example, the driving suffered the most, level design next, then interaction scripting. The attention to detail in the environments is stupendous...

...yet it’s all hollow. You know what? I don’t care about pirates and adventures anymore. Whatever. By the fourth game, I don’t care. I totally get that the game’s not for me but I played it and I’m writing how I feel about it. You’re telling me a story about a guy who met the person of his dreams and marries, then his brother turns up and he can’t be honest to his wife? Meow meow meow it’s all for the sake of drama so we skip over all the details but the contrivance is too much. You want me to accept these things on face value, then on face value, I say Nathan and his brother can go get fucked.

I took particular issue with the comically brief relationship discussion Elena and Nathan have after she saves him and they set off together in which she concludes she’s with him “for better or for worse”, which from memory the game chapter is titled after. Now either the character genuinely believes she owes him under the sanctity of nuptial obligation or she’s using it as a justification of such. This is a wholly unsatisfying discussion for me was when I finally checked out of this game - sure I should have done so hours before but this was the last straw and the indication that I am definitely too old for this shit - but this is a horrifying and stupid message to be spouting. Elena don’t owe anyone shit. Married or not, she’s free to save Nathan if she wants to, for any reason, but she’s certainly not obliged to. I despise this massive chunk of traditionalist patriarchy smashed into her character and the narrative, even if it is “well it’s just about her character” yea great, so that just re-enforces her as a loyal dog-trophy for the main character in the on-going male power-fantasy shenanigans shit-train. Nathan’s behaviour isn’t exactly selfish but it’s certainly not adult or considerate. He behaves like a child not taking on an appropriate level of responsibility. Others around him, being Elena and Sully, continuously bail him out - literally saving his life while endangering their own, and he continues to behave like a manchild that neither acknowledges their physical and emotional labour nor does he grow and evolve as an individual. What a fucker. Does he ever sort his shit out, ask Elena what she wants to do for a career and support whatever the fuck she wants to do with her life? Of-course the fuck he doesn’t. Know why? Because he’s a literal man-baby. And his brother is too. But that’s OK cos he’s a fucken jock-hero and a funny guy so as long as we can all laugh about it and the narrative says-so and it all works out in the end and he gets the girl and she ends-up supporting his career anyway, it’s aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaall fine.

Nathan should have died and Elena shouldn’t have given a fuck.

I know I know, it’s not that serious. Look I’ve been thru some shit, alright? I can see it both ways. Sometimes you don’t think about stupid shit that deep and sometimes you do. Most of the time, I do, and most of the time, I take it to the nth degree, so yea, shit like that gets to me. I call it bad writing, so no, I don’t like the story. At all. Nathan’s supposed to be flawed but nothing ever costs him. When people make mistakes in life, those mistakes cost. The unfortunately thing is the cost is most often paid by the others around them, and sometimes they themselves never realise it. I don’t like stories where there’s a fuckhead at the centre but everyone still stays happy. Nathan seems to have been given a lesson, but I don’t think he earned it. This is why y’all watch Game of Thrones and are surprised when characters die because you keep consuming narratives with no stakes, and GoT is *still* only middling stuff.

Anyway.

How could Elena’s character have been given more attention? Uncharted 4 isn’t all bad. The most valuable thing Naughty Dog achieved was the recreation of real domestic spaces; the Drake households. Twice, we’re given time and space and encouraged to explore them without being funnelled by level design, events, NPC shepherding or audio cues. Rooms and the objects that fill them are meticulously and beautifully created, and they're given life and purpose in a way that has meaning far beyond all the pirate nonsense that while almost as equally beautiful, is completely vacuous.

Putting on Elena’s vinyl record as her daughter Cassie was the only time I enjoyed the music in the game, and it was a great call-back to Nathan having done the same thing in their house much earlier. Sure, there’s the Drake theme that repeats ad nauseam throughout the series but otherwise the soundtrack is bland and unremarkable adventuring fare. It contributes more to the feeling of this game being out of touch, contrasted to something like Control which certainly has a completely different setting, sure - but that’s part of it, so that affords the creative team room for more modular synths and drones and to have a distinct sound.

Walking thru those houses, first as Nathan but really as the player repositioning themselves from adventurer to ordinary life-living person in a domestic setting, and then as Cassie - daughter of these two amazing characters in an equalling urbane setting yet filled with wonderful objects, made up the most fascinating and enjoyable moments of the game for me. The mess of each room gave the houses the perfect lived-in feel to a degree that most other games struggle to achieve, probably due to how much effort it takes to get that much geometry mapped in - Giant Sparrow’s What Became of Edith Finch is probably one of the few games that has come close. The difference between the tropical islands, decaying pirate mansions and the domestic Drake residences is that the houses felt like everything in there felt like it meant something and was in there for a reason, like it had been part of something. I don’t mean that just for the objects that were intrinsically tied to implicit narrative beats like collectables or even items from countries where Uncharted 4 or prior games are set, but also things like towels, washing baskets, plates and dishes, books and picture frames, shampoo bottles, food - the detail in the fridges! That you can feed Cassie’s dog, Vicky is the most meaningful interaction of the game - by the way, the second most meaningful set of interactions is buying an apple in the market in Madagascar then playing with lemur and letting it take the apple.

Back to the houses, I’m disappointed we never got to walk through one of them as Elena. Now that the core of the franchise is wrapped, I’m left with the impression that she’s the most important character in the series and she’s left woefully under-served. This is a very me thing, and unsurprising. I doubt anyone else cares enough about writing and character to have thoughts like this. They’re into Uncharted for the adventuring and the shooting, but as soon as you present me the opportunity for character drama and you want to have a red-hot go at it, I’m here to set aside the rest of that guff and go for it. The running and jumping and shooting never changes, and I’m here to say that the puzzling could have stepped up orders of magnitude that Naughty Dog never committed to - Crystal Dynamics did far better with Rise Of The Romb Raider, and while the puzzling was never really difficult, the way I described it to a friend was to liken the puzzles to desk toys; not intended to be too challenging, but more satisfying in their tactile nature. I feel Fireproof’s The Room series for iOS and Android are great examples of providing similar sensations.

I don’t mind a game mostly about shenanigans, I just don’t want it centred around a character that won’t learn, or who gets off cheaply. Elena is infinitely more interesting to me - her concerns, her desires - Chloe too, for that matter, and I absolutely am not above making the joke about shipping them as I’m sure thousands have before me (no I won’t write a fanfic about them, I’m sure there are plenty around).

I didn’t play the first The Last of Us. There was a horrifically jarring moment when the game felt it was over-playing its sense of cinema to me, then had a sudden camera zoom transition onto I think the first combat gameplay and I checked out. The tone of that game is trying to telegraph TAKE ME SERIOUSLY and I feel all I’m going to do is read tonally similar things to what I have here but far worse. Also post-apocalypse is easy pickings for bad writing, especially by video games narrative writers, I just don’t have the patience. I’m pleased that there’s lesbian representation in the second game but I’m not sure it’ll be handled with sensitivity. While I’m in no way invested in the game as a product, I continue to be concerned for the welfare of the employees at Naughty Dog, and all game developers everywhere, as always. It is a hugely unregulated industry that is in the process of slow collapse, and now more than ever do we need reform and cultural change.

And in the midst of that, one day we’ll get a decent game that’s about domestic partnerships and wonderful emotional relationships with stunning visual fidelity; maybe it’ll have running and jumping and shooting and maybe it won’t. Maybe it’ll end sadly and maybe it’ll end happily but hopefully it’ll be well-written.

Here’s to Elena.

#Video Games #Crunch #Work Practices #Employment Ethics #Work Ethics #Naughty Dog #The Last Of Us #The Last Of Us 2 #Uncharted #Uncharted 4 #chrono #2020 #rant #games writing #writing about games #video games narrative

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