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bitsandbobsofwriting · 4 years ago

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Merlin goes missing, and they find him in chains, looking blank:

Stories of the great power of Emrys have been spreading. But Merlin is still young, and though powerful, control alludes him, from time to time. What happens when those who crave power for themselves take that control from him? By force?

Part 2(final part)

TW: Graphic ish descriptions of violence/blood.

(This was requested a while ago, mind control being broken by the power of friendship)

Merlin was meant to be on a three day trip to gather some rare herbs for Gaius.

The former manservant thought that it was quite ironic, how “herb picking” had been one of his most often used excuses (after “the tavern”) for where he disappeared to when he was still hiding his magic, but now he was Court Sorcerer, Gaius actually made him do it.

This just meant that no one immediately panicked when he wasn’t back by sundown on the third day.

All knew how capable Merlin was. None of the Druid advisors had been sent a message through the link, and an irate dragon hadn’t shown up asking for help.

Meaning he probably just got lost or distracted; lost track of time. He’d be home by noon the next day, prattling on about something he’d seen, or someone he’d spoken to.

Gaius would give him a raised eyebrow and Arthur would punch him in the arm and he’d be all indignant, insisting that “I can look after myself, and honestly Arthur, I was only gone an extra half day, no need to be so panicked.” with a smirk.

When he still wasn’t back before sundown on the fifth day, The Gang started to really worry. They gather in the council room, just the nine of them (the five knights, Arthur, Gaius, Gwen, Morgana) to try to come up with some sort of explanation, or if needed, a plan.

Morgana speaks first, and the uncertainty on her face heightens the anxiety in everyone:

“I’ve tried looking for him, sensing him, but I can’t feel him at all. Like he’s completely disappeared from the world-”

At that, Arthur interrupts her, panic showing on his face, and his voice shaking:

“You don’t mean?-”

Morgana widens her eyes at the meaning the others had taken from her words:

“NO! No, not that, if he were... dead, I would feel that. I would be able to find his… I would be able to find him, and feel a sort of echo, feel the recent effects he’s had on the world around him. But I don’t, I just feel…. nothing. Like he never existed in the first place.”

Everyone looks extremely troubled at that. Morgana wasn’t nearly as powerful as Merlin, but he had been teaching her, and she was getting stronger. If this feeling of absence worried her, then it worried all of them.

Gaius speaks up after a few moments of silence:

“We could ask the Druids? They have a strong, permanent bond to him. It may help in finding him. If not…”

Arthur nods firmly as he replies to the room:

“If not, we track him down the old fashioned way. We managed before, we might just have to manage again now.”

The others nod at that, determined to not let Merlin down.

(Not let Merlin down again. None of them (other than Gaius, Lancelot, and Morgana of course) had reacted all that well to Merlin’s magic when they first learned the truth. And whilst that was years ago, and Merlin claimed to have forgiven them all immediately, they still felt guilty for the way they’d treated him in those first few hours/days.)

As it turns out, the three Druid advisors were equally worried, and had been in the process of hurrying to the council room to inform The King of the severed tie between themselves and Emrys, just as Arthur had decided to call for their presence.

The whole gang had to quell their panic, and remind themselves of Arthur’s words. They’d managed before, they would manage now.

At first light the next day, Arthur and the knights rode out. Morgana was left with the crown, with Gwen and Gaius as advisors to stay and support her.

The King tried to insist on leaving one or two of the knights behind as well, just in case, but they weren’t having it, and Morgana’s reminder of:

“Merlin is incredibly powerful, Arthur. If someone has been strong enough to subdue or hurt him, then you’ll need all the help you can get.”

-he reluctantly allowed all five of them to come.

Gaius had provided them with the directions, so they could start their search where Merlin was supposed to be, and go from there.

After a full day’s journey, they arrive at the first of two clearings, just before nightfall. After a thorough look around, they found that Merlin had in fact been there, but he left peacefully, and they found no sign that anyone else had travelled through recently.

So he hadn’t been taken from the first clearing. Arthur and Gwaine had wanted to push on through the night, the second of the two clearings was only a few hours away, but Leon gave them a stern look, and with support from the others, insisted that they rest for the night.

They could wake early and continue in the morning, but the horses (and the knights) were starving, and tired, and needed rest. They would be no use to Merlin at all if they turned up dead on their feet.

Elyan tried to volunteer for the first watch, but Arthur insisted he take it. No one really argued with him, they knew he wouldn’t sleep well anyway, not with Merlin missing, and potentially hurt.

Elyan did however wake up a few hours later (a pure coincidence, it definitely wasn’t because he asked Percival to cast a low-level enchantment that would wake him (I like to imagine that once things had settled, Merlin tries to teach the lads a little sorcery. Arthur is hopeless, as are Lancelot and Elyan, but Leon and Gwaine aren’t toooo bad, and Percival is fairly alright)) and insisted that The King get some sleep.

He didn’t like to do it often (Arthur’s head was already big enough) but Elyan did use a little flattery to his advantage:

“Come now, My Lord. You’re the strongest of all of us, and it’s your orders we follow, how can we expect to win if our leader can’t walk or think straight?”

Arthur mumbles something about how “Flattery won’t get you anywhere in court, Sir Elyan.” But dutifully allows himself to slip into a fitful rest.

As promised, they rise and pack up just before first light, choosing to eat whilst they ride out just as the sun rises over the horizon.

The second clearing they reach, tells a much different story to the first. The knights slow their horses down, and stare on in barely concealed horror at the scene laid out before them.

Merlin’s horse lay dead to the side of the clearing. They had clearly killed her deliberately so that Merlin couldn’t escape if he freed himself. That could be the only explanation. She wasn’t wearing her saddle, and was still tied to the tree: Merlin wasn’t riding her when the arrow was fired.

The ground was scorched almost entirely, and a few trees had been uprooted, with the remaining standing ones bearing scorch marks and sword scars higher than naturally possible.

Merlin had obviously fought back, but the small puddle of blood next to his dropped herb bag tells them that he had been injured before the fight even began. Whoever took him? Knew who he was.

After a moment of shocked silence, Arthur starts barking orders:

“Percival, check the horse and the herbs, try and figure out how long ago this happened. Gwaine, Elyan, Lancelot, have a good look around, try to find anything discarded by his attackers; we need to figure out who took him. See if you can learn how many there were, and how they attacked, we need to know if they themselves are magic, or if they just know how to fight magic. Me and Leon will check the surrounding areas to find out where they went. Leave your horses at the edge, we don’t want to muddy up any tracks.”

Everyone wordlessly nods, and they go about their tasks quickly but thoroughly. No wants to make any mistakes here, Merlin is incredibly important to them, and they couldn’t risk going in to this blind.

They work in silence, and once Arthur and Leon return from their scouting ahead thirty minutes or so later, they gather the horses once more and huddle at the edge of the clearing.

Arthur looks to Percival expectantly, and he reports his findings quickly:

“Going by the carcass and the herbs Merlin had already cut, this happened maybe four or five days ago? Considering he was obviously still picking, and not just dawdling-”

(he gestures to the bag that he had picked up and attached to his saddlebags)

“-I’d say he was taken in the afternoon of the second day.”

Arthur clenches his jaw at that, that was five days ago. Hopefully they hadn’t travelled too far, and weren’t still travelling, otherwise it would take far too long to track them down.

He looks to Lancelot next:

“We found two bodies, average, plain armour, and it didn’t look like anything had been taken from them after they died. One of them did have this in his pocket-”

He looks grim as he says this, and hands over a very crumpled piece of parchment. On it, there was a rough sketch of Merlin’s face, and the Pendragon crest. It was rough, old, clearly drawn from memory, but there could be no mistaking who it was.

Arthur looks angry at that, but tucks it into his saddlebag before gesturing for Lancelot to continue:

“I don’t think they used magic, at least not combative magic-”

He gestures around the clearing, at the scorch marks:

“All of the blows seem to be extending out from the middle, from where Merlin was stood: he fought back with magic, but they used normal weapons.”

Lancelot looks to Gwaine, and he wastes no time in telling the group what he found:

“There was a broken off arrow shaft next to Merlin’s bag, someone shot him. I couldn’t find the head, so it’s still in him most likely, we need to be prepared to clean an infection when we find him-”

Percival interrupts him:

“I had a look through his bag, there’s a lot of useful stuff in here, so that shouldn’t be too much of a problem.”

Gwaine nods and lets out a sigh of relief before continuing:

“The arrow shaft stunk, and his blood was funky. I’m guessing they soaked it in mandrake or something to knock him out. Otherwise he would’ve decimated this lot. They would’ve only had to avoid his attacks for two or three minutes at most before he passed out. And even then, he wouldn’t have been all that coordinated.”

Everyone worries at this. Every new bit of information just tells them that whoever took Merlin knew exactly who he was, and what he was capable of.

Elyan speaks up next:

“Going from the tracks, I’d say there was six or seven others, not including our two corpses. They were spread evenly around the clearing so he could only attack at one at a time, all they had to do was aim one good shot, and wait it out. They may not have used magic to attack, but they must have hidden themselves somehow: there’s no way that Merlin wouldn’t have felt them coming, we’re in the middle of a forest, this is his domain.”

Arthur hums thoughtfully and nods, before speaking to the group:

“I agree with your assessment of seven other attackers. Me and Leon found a large group of tracks, from multiple people, coming from the North, but they split up and spread around the clearing about a quarter of a mile out. No has any idea who they were?”

Everyone shakes their heads, and Lancelot speaks once again:

“No. The armour was non-descript, the weapons left behind were nothing special. They had no tattoos, nothing of value on them, no defining marks, sigils, or crests. Nothing. Either they were randomly hired mercenaries, or they were clever enough to not carry anything that could identify them, or their masters.”

Arthur growls in annoyance and nods once again. The Knights all gather their horses and follow Arthur and Leon’s quick pace out of the clearing, towards the tracks they had found.

At Arthur’s instruction, they split into two groups, one following along about 10 feet to the left of the tracks, the other, the same to the right.

They needed to be careful, the group who had taken Merlin were obviously well informed professionals, and would know that it wouldn’t be long before someone came looking. They didn’t want to run into any traps or ambushes by following the exact same path the kidnappers had.

The Knights follow the trail for another couple of days, taking few breaks, and spending the majority of it in silence; not even Gwaine is being talkative.

A few hours into their tracking, there was another battle arena (though much smaller than the last).

They didn’t stick around for long, it was likely that the mandrake had worn off quicker than expected, and Merlin had tried to escape. Once they saw Lancelot turn pale as he picked up a bloody rock, they hurried their horses along the trail even faster than before.

It was around noon on the third day since they left the second clearing, that they notice the tracks getting significantly fresher: the kidnappers (who had been on foot, meaning the knights were making good time anyway) had slowed down; they must almost be there.

That evening, they finally came across what appeared to be a rundown farm. The roof of the house was caved in, and there wasn’t even one fully intact fence in the whole property. A large barn further to the back of the area however, was in good condition.

The tracks went all over the overgrown farm, but focused mainly around the barn (going no further than the edge of the property) and the Knights could see the flickering light of a fire glow through the gaps between planks of woods.

They tied their horses up a few metres in to the treeline. Normally having horses during the attack would be useful, but they were at least a four days journey from the capital (on horses, closer to two weeks on foot), and depending on the state Merlin is in, he may not be able to walk it. They needed to leave the horses undamaged and with energy enough to flee if they had to.

Arthur sends everyone off to scout the area, learn what they could, and they gather once more about five minutes later, hidden behind the rundown house to avoid being spotted.

Leon speaks first:

“I got as close as I could without being seen, there are about twenty-five men in there. I didn’t recognise any of them, and none of them had any identifying marks, but there was one man who was clearly in charge. Larger than the rest, had nicer clothes, a large key on a chain around his neck.”

Arthur perks up at that:

“Might unlock whatever is holding Merlin. Did you see him?”

Leon sighed and shook his head grimly:

“No, but the fire lit only the middle of the room, I couldn’t see in the corners or along the edges.”

Percival speaks next, quickly adding what he had learnt:

“There’s no one else in any of the other buildings, and no fresh tracks leading away from the area. Merlin must be in there with them.”

Leon hums in agreement before continuing:

“They weren’t... drunk. But they are drinking. It might be worth it to wait for a few more hours so we have more of an advantage. There’s only six of us remember, we-.”

Gwaine shakes his head roughly, interrupting:

“We can’t wait. Who knows what they’ve done to Merlin, but if they’re celebrating, and he isn’t fighting back, then it’s bad. We need to get him out of there as quickly as possible.”

Arthur hums thoughtfully as he thought through their options. Both of them had valid points, but the attackers wouldn’t go through all of this trouble just to kill Merlin, so he shouldn’t be in any imminent danger, and as much as he wanted to rescue him as soon as possible, they had to be careful.

He looks up at the group and replies confidently:

“We wait until the sun has disappeared completely. It should be no more than half an hour. That gives us the cover of darkness, and gives them time to lose a little more of their wits.”

Gwaine seems like he wants to argue, but a pointed look from Lancelot calms him, and the group go through the motions of checking their armour and weapons, preparing themselves fully for a difficult fight.

After spending the time preparing, and discussing their options, the group decided that the best plan was for them to split in to two.

Arthur, Elyan, and Gwaine were to rush through the large door at the front, and Leon, Percival, and Lancelot would sneak in through the small door at the back.

There was no way they would be able to hold on to the element of surprise for long, and it would be a difficult fight, but hopefully the first group would be distraction enough to allow the second group to kill at least a few people before they realised what was happening.

That, unfortunately, is not how things go.

After one last firm nod from Arthur, the group splits and heads as quietly as they can to their designated entrance. The King takes a deep breath before gesturing at Elyan, who pushes the door open with force, allowing Gwaine and Arthur to rush in without hesitation.

Elyan joins them, and they make a point to look at the enemy, so as not to draw attention to the other three sneaking in behind them.

It takes only a few seconds before Arthur realises something is wrong. None of the men seem angry, or even worried in the slightest, and as he spies Leon step silently forward to slit the throat of the man closest to him, he understands why.

Leon takes three steps fine, but on his fourth, he hits an invisible barrier, and is thrown back violently. He hits the wall with a crash, and falls to the floor, unconscious from the blow to his head.

The leader of the group glances briefly behind him before looking back to Arthur, amusement on his face. Arthur covers his confusion with anger, but before he can demand an explanation, the leader begins to speak:

“Looky here, boys! Kidnap one sorcerer, get six of Camelot’s finest knights free! That’s a pretty good deal if I do say so myself!”

The rooms breaks out into laughter, and Elyan takes a step forward, speaking in a dangerous tone:

“Well unfortunately, our sorcerer was not for sale. So if you would, we’d like him back.”

The leader chuckles once again, and the knights have to stop themselves going for an attack. Leon was just about starting to stir, and Lancelot stands protectively in front of him, waiting for the knight to right himself again.

“I’m not so sure he wants to be returned, good sir. I think you’ll find that he’s quite enjoying being under my service-”

He raises one hand and grips the ancient looking key that’s hanging around his neck, and looks to a darkened corner of the room before speaking again, louder this time:

“Isn’t that right, oh sorcerer of mine? Come here.”

The knights have to hold in a shudder at what they see.

Merlin, or what looks to be Merlin, judderingly walks out of the dark corner towards the key-holder. His left shoulder hangs oddly, and they can see the blood staining his clothes and dripping from his hand, leaving a trail on the floor. His feet drag across the ground, and his head nods and sways, like he is desperately trying not to collapse into unconsciousness. A wound on his temple still slowly seeps blood, and his hands shake.

He had a thick, metal collar around his neck, and two matching circlets around his wrists. Thick chains, the length of his arms, attach the cuffs to the collar (so that he still had full mobility, but all three circles of iron were connected), and as his body sways, the knights can see the skin beneath the metal has been rubbed raw, to the point of bleeding in some places.

But what was most striking, was the permanent golden glow of Merlin’s eyes, and the blank look on his face.

The golden colour didn’t quite match up to it’s normal hue, and seemed duller, sickly, somehow.

The knights stare on in horror as their friend, clearly not in control of his own actions, finishes his disjointed journey to his new master.

Arthur glares viciously at the man as he growls out:

“What have you done to-”

But before he can finish, a resounding thwack echoes around the room as a gauntleted hand connects with the side of Merlin’s face.

The other bandits laugh as Merlin’s head rocks violently sideways. His head is angled towards the floor for just a moment before he looks back up at the leader, the blank look not having left his face, despite the blood now dribbling from his mouth and the dark bruise already forming on his cheek and jaw.

Gwaine lets out a growl, but before he can take a step forward, the leader speaks once again, a horrid grin on his face:

“Be a dear and subdue our new guests, sorcerer.”

Without hesitation, Merlin sidesteps the leader, giving him a direct line of sight to Lancelot, Leon, and Percival. He waves his hand at them, muttering something under his breath, and the three of them gasp as they lift off the floor, and go flying across the room towards the other knights.

Arthur only manages to widen his eyes in surprise before he’s bowled over by Percival, and before the group can react, they find themselves unarmed, and kneeling side by side; lined up in front of the leader, with Merlin’s hand extended towards them.

The bandits begin laughing once again, the leader the most uproarious of them all, as the knights struggle to break free from Merlin’s grasp.

Arthur is the only one who holds still, not resisting, as he tries to get Merlin to look at him, but the sorcerer isn’t paying any attention. It almost seemed like Merlin just... wasn’t present. His body was stood in the barn, but his mind, his soul, were elsewhere, not even looking upon this earth, let alone stood in it.

Merlin’s blank face looks to the leader, and he doesn’t react at all as Arthur yells at him:

“Merlin! This isn’t you, he’s controlling you! You have to take back con-”

The leader interrupts him, his hand still gripping the slightly glowing key, as he directs himself to Merlin:

“Oh do shut them up, sorcerer.”

Merlin looks to the group once more, twisting his outstretched hand slightly. The knight’s voices are ripped form them suddenly, and silence permeates the barn for only a second before the bandits continue their laughter.

After a few minutes of the knights being unable to move or make any noise, the leader speaks up again:

“You know, sir knights,-”

He smacks Merlin again, in the same place as before, and the knights tense even more at their friend’s non-reaction:

“-I had thought, that the most fun part of having a pet sorcerer, would be the magic, and don’t get me wrong, it’s great, but-”

This time he aims a punch to Merlin’s abdomen. The Warlock bends over slightly, and takes a step back, before righting himself again, and returning to his original position:

“-I have discovered, in fact, that the most fun part is actually having a living punching bag, who can’t die as easy as the normal peasants and commoners I lay my hands on.”

He grins wickedly once more as he takes out a small dagger. The knight’s eyes all widen and they begin struggling even more against their magical bounds, as the leader drags the blade along Merlin’s outstretched arm.

The cut isn’t too deep, but it’s long, and bleeds enough for infection to be a definite worry.

Merlin’s head wavers slightly and his lip twitches, but he otherwise doesn’t move.

The leader looks to an almost tearful Arthur, and slowly, ever so slowly, pushes the blade into Merlin’s uninjured shoulder, as he grins:

“I wonder, sir knights, how much he can take.”

Arthur looks back to Merlin and sees him flinch, his face seeming more strained. Arthur hates himself for thinking it, but the more pain this jackass inflicts... the more aware Merlin seems to be becoming.

The glow in his eyes flickers, but only momentarily, and Arthur feels the ability to speak come back to him. He holds his breath for a moment, hoping that it’s just him (or that the others had the same idea as him). He lets it out a moment later when none of the knights make any noise.

He needs to pick his moment, wait until Merlin is most aware of his surroundings, before he tries to reach out to him.

It’s a difficult situation, a mix of not wanting Merlin to have to suffer, but also knowing that there is no way the knights could take him on. Not even with no other attackers to worry about. Not even with Merlin at partial strength. The only way for them to win this, is to get Merlin to come back to them.

The Knights watch on with horror, glares painted on their faces, as the leader removes the knife and steps away. He wipes the blood off the blade on Merlin’s clothes harshly, the pressure on his wound making the glow of his eyes flicker once again.

The arsehole looks to the rest of the grinning bandits, and yells:

“So, boys! Shall we see what our new pet can do? We have some lovely new test subjects after all!” A cheer goes up around the room, and the knights take in nervous breaths. They know what Merlin is capable of, and though he doesn’t show off his magic regularly, they’ve seen him angry, seen him when he has the least control of his magic; and right now, he has zero control. The only thing they could do is hope that this mercenary didn’t have a very vivid imagination.

At the bandit’s cheer, the leader turns around to sweep an assessing gaze over the knights. He hums thoughtfully, before waving his arm in Percival’s direction:

“He looks like a big guy, looks like he can take a lot. Break his arm for me, sorcerer.”

The others look to Percival in fear, but his only reaction is to take a deep breath, and clench his jaw.

Merlin tilts his head slightly, and moves his outstretched arm to be pointed at Percival. Arthur sees him swallow, and his hand shake slightly. He’s fighting it. The sorcerer stands still for just a moment, staring at a resolute Percival, but at the leader’s yell:

“DO IT!!”

-he closes his fist, quick as lightening, and a snap sounds out. Percival makes a pained face, but makes no noise as his arm hangs at his side.

Arthur casts a quick look at him, and is grateful for the lack of blood and odd angles. Merlin had managed to break his arm in the least damaging way possible.

Percival’s breath evens out, and he shakes the daze from his head before looking right at Merlin and saying:

“It’s alright, Merlin.” Arthur tenses slightly at that, but the bandit’s seem to be too drunk to notice the broken silence.

The leader bellows out again:

“Aw, well that was a little anti-climactic. Hmm... what about him-”

He gestures at Leon, who is now only slightly dazed, before continuing:

“-knock him out. Properly, this time.”

Merlin’s outstretched hand moves once again, pointing at Leon. Merlin hesitates for even longer this time. His hand shakes violently, and the glow in his eyes dulls (only slightly, but permanently this time) as Leon gives him a small smile, and nods at him.

The leader snarls before aiming a violent punch to Merlin’s side, before screaming:

“YOU ARE MINE!! STOP HESITATING YOU BEAST!″

This time, Merlin pulls his hand towards himself quickly, and Leon’s body tips forward. His head smacks off the floor with a sickening thud, and he doesn’t move from his place crumpled on the floor.

The others panic slightly at this, not being able to see Leon properly, but Arthur holds in a grin. He’s seen enough knights be knocked out to know that Leon was still conscious. Merlin had deliberately held back, cushioned his blow. There was no question that if he had really tried, Leon most certainly would have passed out, which means that Merlin is somewhat in control of his strength, if not his actions.

Arthur is grateful that Leon has the sense to lie still and keep his eyes closed. In order to remain convincing, The King plasters a sufficiently horrified look on his face as he looks from Leon to the Leader.

The man gives a satisfied hum, and turns to Lancelot, a loathsome smirk on his face:

“You, my friend, are far too calm for my liking. Let’s change that, shall we?”

The bandits let out yet another cheer (And Arthur is pleased to see that the majority of them are incredibly drunk at this point. He just needs Merlin to focus long enough for Arthur to grab the key) before he continues:

“Choke. Him. Out. I want to watch the life drain from his pathetically noble eyes. I want to see him panic as his breath is stolen from him. DO IT!”

Fear flash across Lancelot’s face, before he schools his features again. Gwaine, Percival, and Elyan do not manage to hide their panic at all, and Leon takes in an unnoticed deep breath from his place on the floor.

Arthur looks a tad worried, but this has got to be it. He knows how close Merlin and Lancelot are, there will be no better chance to try and break him from this pig’s control, he only needs a moment, and he can see Leon subtly preparing to pounce as well.

Merlin moves his arm to be pointed at Lancelot, and the knights can see their Warlock flinch slightly as Lancelot speaks a shaky smile on his face:

“It’s ok, Merlin, it’s not your fault.”

Merlin’s hesitation earns him a smack on the back of the head, and a second later, he turns his open hand to the ceiling. With that motion, Lancelot raises from the floor.

His hands go to his throat and his eyes widen a fraction as his feet kick, looking for purchase, but finding nothing.

Arthur gulps as he looks between Lancelot and Merlin, waiting for the last possible moment before he jumps into action.

The knights, thrash slightly trying to reach Lancelot as he begins to audibly choke. His legs kick more violently, and his face turns red, his eyes shut tight.

He manages to opens his eyes just a fraction, looking to Merlin and letting out a choked, barely audible:

“I... trust you... Merlin.”

Lancelot’s eyes close once again as his thrashing slows and he loses the last of the air in his lungs.

Arthur stares at Merlin intensely, and the moment a tear falls from his eye, he yells:

“Merlin, look at ME!”

The leader lets out an outraged yelp as Merlin drops his hand to his side, whipping his head around to stare at Arthur. Lancelot drops to the floor with a thud, and begins taking in sudden, deep breaths. The glow disappears briefly from Merlin’s eyes, and in that moment, he lifts a hand to his head, whispering “30 seconds”. The moment his fingers touch his temple, he crumples gracelessly to the floor.

Leon finally moves, jumping to catch Merlin before his heads makes contact with the floor and at the same time, Arthur leaps at the outraged Leader, tackling him to the floor roughly.

Percival moves to Lancelot, and quickly drags him, using his good arm, to the side of the room so that he can catch his breath. Gwaine and Elyan tackle the men who had been standing closest to them, and take their weapons, before moving quickly to stand above Arthur and The Arsehole (still wrestling on the floor).

Both of them hold their blades to his throat, and at his momentary hesitation, Arthur finally lands a good punch to his jaw, properly dazing him.

Arthur rips the chain from his neck and staggers back, leaving Gwaine and Elyan in front of him, not moving their weapons from the man’s neck.

All of this had happened in around five seconds, the knights following Arthur’s signal smoothly and in tandem (exactly like he had trusted they would), and the rest of the bandits too drunk to react quick enough.

The bandits had finally gathered themselves, and have their swords out and pointed at the gang, but before they could move forward, Elyan speaks:

“Take another step, and we’ll cut his throat.”

Arthur knew that that wouldn’t hold them for long. No honour among thieves, they didn’t care if he died because it just gave way for a power struggle, allowing one of them to come out on top as the new leader.

He glanced down at Merlin and Leon again before looking behind him to check on Lancelot and Percival. He counted in his head. Twelve seconds to go.

Elyan and Gwaine pulled the stuttering leader up by his clothes and drag him back. Gwaine stands behind him, his sword held across his throat, as Elyan takes his weapons from him and then moves to stand by Gwaine’s side.

Six seconds to go. Arthur isn’t really sure what he’s counting down to, but he trusts Merlin.

The bandits begin taking slow, drunken steps towards the gang once again. They may be pissed, but they also still vastly outnumber the knights, especially with Lancelot coughing his lungs out, Leon with at least a minor concussion, and Percival with a broken arm.

Three seconds... Two... One.

As the Arthur’s mental countdown reaches zero, he turns his head to check on Merlin, at the same time as the sorcerer opens his eyes once again.

His eyes shine bright golden once again (though still not quite normally), so brightly that Leon and Arthur have to shield their eyes for a moment. That moment is all it takes for the bandits to take action, and they surge towards the gang.

Gwaine pushes their leader into them, and his large form knocks two of them over. Gwaine and Elyan are the only ones who have weapons, so they hold off the first of the attackers as best they can. Percival picks up a still struggling Lancelot, and Leon and Arthur grab an arm each of Merlin. The five of them rush outside, and once Arthur yells back at them, Gwaine and Elyan turn and follow them. They shut the door quickly behind them, and Lancelot is dropped the floor, Merlin left standing blankly, as the rest of them throw their collective weight against the door. Percival speaks first, holding his broken arm to his chest, and bracing his shoulder against the middle of the door:

“Why isn’t... ugh... why isn’t he doing anything??”

Lancelot looks up from his place on the floor, and staggers to his feet, leaning on (a still blank) Merlin for support. He taps his face slightly and squeezes his hand, but still the sorcerer doesn’t react. His hand brushes against the cold metal of one of the cuffs, and he looks back to Arthur, still coughing lightly:

“He’s still bound! Please tell me you managed to hold on to that key?!”

Arthur nods, and Lancelot stumbles over, pressing his weight against the door with the others as another shove is felt from the other side. They wouldn’t be able to do this for long, the bandits were becoming more and more coordinated.

Elyan speaks up:

“We don’t have... no time to uncuff him, you’re in control Arthur just tell him to kill them or knock... or knock them out!”

Arthur looks angry at that, and shakes his head violently:

“No, I won’t take that control from him. I won’t.”

Leon yells next, his words slightly slurred, but understandable:

“You have no choice, Arthur. Just something simple!”

Arthur growls, and huffs as another, much harder shove hits the door. The gang almost stumbles back, but they brace themselves against the door once more, and Arthur shouts:

“Fine! Merlin, protect us!”

Without even a second’s hesitation, Merlin raises his hand towards them, and then pulls towards him. The knights all find themselves flying away from the barn, but land on their feet a few feet behind Merlin.

The barn door opens with a crash, the first three men falling forward, but quickly being trampled on by their... co-workers... as they escape the building. Before they can make it far however, Merlin throws up his other hand, muttering something under his breath, and all of them are stopped, frozen in place.

Merlin keeps his hand stretched out towards them, and the knights hear one of them go “oh shit” under their breath, as the realisation crosses their faces.

The Warlock’s face remains blank, and after a few moments of the knights catching their breath, Arthur steps forward hesitatingly:

“Merlin?-”

Merlin tilts his head slightly, but doesn’t turn to look at him and Arthur gulps, and moves around to stand in front of him. He holds the key in one hand, and grips Merlin’s arm with the other, he speaks over Merlin’s shoulder to the others:

“I don’t see a keyhole or anything. How do I get this thing off him?!”

The knights shrug and move forward, examining the iron from a distance. Gwaine speaks first:

“Well, Merlin would know, right? Ask him.”

Arthur frowns slightly, he is really not liking this, but none of them have seen anything even slightly similar to this before:

“Merlin, do you know how to release yourself from this?” as he speaks, he shakes one of the chains, and hears the bandits behind him begin squeaking in fear.

Merlin still doesn’t look directly at him, staring straight ahead, eyes still glowing, one hand still outstretched, but he does give a slow nod.

Arthur gulps once more, and takes Merlin’s lowered hand. He presses the key into his palm, holding his hand over it and quietly says:

“Do it. Take it off.”

Merlin mutters something else, forcing the barrier he had placed around the bandits to stay in place. He closes his hand around the key, and without looking, touches the end of the key to the cuff on his other wrist. A hole opens up in the metal, and he pushes the key in, twisting only slightly before the cuff falls off his wrist entirely, still dangling by the chain attached to the collar.

The glow in his eyes instantly dims a bit, and he takes a staggered step back. He shakes his head slightly, and the key swaps hands. He does the same to the other cuff.

He falls to his knees, shaking, and the knights step forward to support him. He slowly lifts the key to the collar, and the same thing happens a third time. As the collar falls to the floor, the glow in his eyes flashes it’s normal, healthy colour, before disappearing entirely.

His blue eyes find Arthur’s momentarily, just long enough for Arthur to smile at him and nod. That’s all the convincing that “everything is ok” Merlin needs, and he promptly passes out, slumping forward.

Arthur just about catches him, and looks over his own shoulder panicked, thinking that with Merlin unconscious, the barrier would disappear.

It would appear that Merlin had thought of that, even in his state, and the barrier stayed in place, leaving Arthur and the knights to let out breaths of relief.

Now everyone has had time to catch their breath, and Merlin was free, they had a moment to realise how furious they were.

Gwaine looks ready to slaughter every man there, and every person they’ve ever spoken to, and even Lancelot looks pissed.

Arthur gathers Merlin up in his arms, carrying him bridal style and looks to the others:

“Grab our weapons from inside, quickly, we need to get out of here, I don’t know how long that's going to hold, or how long Merlin will be out. We need to get him to Gaius, and bring that... thing.”

He gestures to the set of cuffs still sat in the grass, and Leon steps forward to pick them up. Elyan and Gwaine stand guard in front of Arthur and Merlin, (still being the only ones who are actually armed) and Lancelot and Percival rush around the group of bandits, still frozen in place, and through the door into the barn.

They come out not even a minute later with everyone’s swords, and hand them out. Merlin begins to stir, and Arthur spares him a quick glance before gesturing back towards where they left the horses.

The group huddles together, Arthur with Merlin protected at the back, pointing their weapons at the bandits as they shuffle back, moving as quickly as they could, not daring to move their gazes from the kidnappers.

Merlin stirs once more, but settles quickly, probably still a while from waking up, and the group reaches the treeline before they begin to pick up the pace.

They finally reach their horses, and Gwaine quickly helps Arthur load Merlin up in front of The King, head lolling back to rest against his shoulder.

Leon wraps the cuffs in a spare tunic before shoving them into a saddlebag, and the group takes one last look behind them, before galloping back in the direction of Camelot.

If they went by the crow flies, instead of detouring to those clearings, they could be back in three days, instead of the four and a half it had taken them to get here.

They ride through the night, trying to get as far away as possible, not taking any breaks, and only stopping to make camp a few hours after midnight.

Elyan splints and wraps Percival’s arm, Leon drinks plenty of water and tries not to pass out, and Lancelot coughs the whole journey, but other than that, there seems to be no lasting damage or serious injuries.

They have little food left, but (despite no one being willing to admit it) they were all a little shaken, and none were prepared to leave camp to hunt or forage for anything more substantial.

Merlin had stirred a few more times, and opened his eyes briefly when Arthur laid him on his bedroll, but it didn’t last long, and he was passed out again shortly after.

The King massages some water down his throat, has Elyan help him with digging out the arrowhead, and follows Percival’s instructions on which of the herbs Merlin had gathered would help best with pain, infections, and larger wounds. The arrow and stab wounds were stitched and thoroughly cleaned, before Arthur moved on to the less serious wounds: checking his jaw to see if it was broken (it wasn’t, thank the Gods), and dressing the burns and bruises on his neck and wrists. The head wound wasn’t serious thankfully, only requiring a thorough cleaning, and two stiches.

Leon takes the first watch with Arthur, on account of not being allowed to fall asleep just yet, but there isn’t much conversation as they watch their friends toss and turn, obviously not sleeping too well.

Gwaine takes over from Leon around two hours before sunrise, before informing Arthur that:

“If you don’t go to sleep, I’ll put you to sleep. And then we’d have to double-ride two horses. And that would slow us down even more. So. What’s it gonna be, princess?”

Arthur grumbles minimally, but he knows Gwaine is right. He doesn’t move from his spot however, choosing to lay down right next to Merlin.

Gwaine simply raises an eyebrow, (and wakes him before everyone else in the morning) at The King’s position.

Arthur has one hand gripping Merlin’s wrist, and the other splayed out against Merlin’s chest, his Warlock’s pulse, and breath, just under his fingertips whilst he slept.

They get back to Camelot when expected, around three days later, just before noon.

Leon’s concussion had cleared up completely by the time they had got there, and Lancelot’s throat wasn’t quite so irritated. Percival’s arm was still broken of course, but with the help of some medication they had brought with them, the pain hadn’t been too bad.

Merlin had woken up a few more times across the journey, but was far too exhausted to stay awake for more than an hour at a time, and despite his grumbling, he admitted that it would be best for him to continue sharing a horse.

He managed to get some food in him as well, which the knights were relieved at, and the herbs must’ve been very special, because the infection in the arrow wound was almost gone by the time they got him to Gaius, and they had managed to avoid infection in the stab wound entirely.

Speaking of Gaius, he fussed to the extreme when Merlin hobbled in to the infirmary, supported by The King. After double checking all of his wounds, and forcing a mixture of gross tasting potions down his throat, he had him asleep on one of the patient pallets whilst he checked over the others.

He set Percival’s arm with magic, gave Leon a potion for the headaches he would be having for the next week or so, and gave Lancelot a special tea mix to help with his throat.

The moment Gaius relaxed, Arthur did too, trusting the physicians assessment of his friends. Elyan had scurried off to find Gwen and the Lady Morgana, before joining Gwaine, Percival, Leon, and Lancelot, for much needed naps in their own quarters.

Once everything slowed down a bit, Arthur presented Gaius with the chains and key, and explained to him what had happened.

It was late in the evening at this point, so they spoke quietly, not wanting to disturb Gwen or Morgana, who had both fallen asleep in their chairs at Merlin’s bedside.

“His eyes were bright gold, but they looked... wrong? Like slightly the wrong colour. He was almost completely blank, barely reacted to pain, and just.... stared. Into the distance. Like he had no awareness of his physical surroundings.”

Gaius looked concerned, but not so much so that it worried Arthur:

“Ah. That would explain the severed connections with Morgana and the Druids, his consciousness was locked away, pushed far too deep for anyone to find him. What else?”

Arthur looked uncomfortable and shuffled his feet as he continued, recalling memories from the previous days that he was sure would haunt him as he slept:

“Well... he hesitated a few times, when he was told to... hurt us. Like he was fighting it. But when he was hit or yelled at, it looked like he sort of... re-set? And he would do whatever he was told.”

Gaius nodded:

“Yes. Merlin is incredibly powerful, but so are the enchantments on these chains. He would have fought against it viciously, but the sudden noise, or pain, would’ve have shocked his system into obeying without hesitation. I’m guessing that’s how you broke him free?”

Arthur glanced briefly towards Merlin, before nodding, and replying even quieter than before:

“Hmm. I waited until he looked most... unsure, most hesitant, then yelled at him to look at me. His eyes cleared for just a moment, he whispered “30 seconds” , then knocked himself out somehow. We got the key thing, held off the bandits for 30 seconds, then he woke up and I...-”

He clenches his jaw and looks away at this, letting out a harsh breath at the memory. Gaius pats his hand a few times consolably as he speaks:

“You did what you had to my boy, you didn’t take advantage, or force him to do anything he wouldn’t have willingly done anyway. If anything, from the sounds of it, you were far more merciful and forgiving than Merlin would’ve been.”

Arthur huffs a weak laugh at that, and Gaius smiles, before saying:

“I’m hesitant to analyse these chains until I know more. I’ll talk to the Druids tomorrow, and wait until Merlin’s strength returns before doing anything. You best get some sleep, My Lord.”

Arthur looks up sheepishly, and bites his lip not quite meeting Gaius’ eyes. The old physician raises an eyebrow, prompting him to speak:

“Would you mind if I... stayed here for the night? I can just pull out a pallet but I...-”

Gaius picks up where Arthur hesitates:

“Don’t want to leave him?-”

Gaius smiles once again at Arthur’s infinitesimal nod:

“That’s fine by me, though you’ll have to leave this room to talk to the council eventually.”

Without waiting for a response, Gaius gets up and walks away. He checks Merlin’s bandages briefly before shuffling off to what had been The Court Sorcerer’s previous room, before he had been given his own chambers.

Arthur sighs, and walks over to Merlin, standing above him. The colour has returned to his cheeks, and he looks much healthier now he was no longer covered in his own blood and was wearing clean clothes.

He sweeps the hair away from his forehead, and leans down to place a gentle kiss where his hand had been. He looks up to see Gwen looking at him sleepily, a fond smile on her face as she stares at Arthur’s blushing face.

She stands and stretches, before whispering:

“Why don’t you take my chair, Arthur? I should probably get back to Lancelot anyway, and I doubt you want to leave his side?”

Arthur nods slightly, and whispers his gratitude as Gwen gives him a quick hug, before sneaking out the door.

Arthur settles in the chair, finding a comfortable (or as comfortable as possible in a wooden chair with wonky legs) position, as he once again wraps one hand around Merlin’s wrist, and places the other over his chest.

He falls asleep after only minutes, and rests easier than he had in a week, satisfied with the knowledge that Merlin was safe and on the mend, and returned to the position Arthur thought he belonged in most: next to him.

THE END!

I dunno, I might write a part two, about the psychological effects on Merlin? Of having his magic controlled, AND of having to watch from behind his own eyes as he hurts his friends? Let me know if y’all wanna see something like that :)

EDIT: Part 2 is up! Link at the top

Same as always lads, you wanna write it out properly with paragraphs and descriptions and shit, go for it, but credit and tag me ✌

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hatchetfieldtheories · 4 years ago

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Return to Hatchetfield-Town – The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals Part 1

Alright settle down kiddos. Get comfy, find a warm blanket and hug your favourite fwendy-wend as we start our Return to Hatchetfield-Town series.

I’ll be rewatching all the Hatchetfield scripted content (i.e. not livestreams or interviews) and jotting down what happens, explaining some concepts and delving into some of the key theories in the series (and using the word “implications” that often it will cease to have meaning).

Even though I’ll be doing the rewatch by show in order they came out, there will be spoilers for all Hatchetfield content that is available as of the rewatch.

I’ve also linked to a number of other blog’s theories here because they are amazing, but if you aren’t happy with your theory being included I will be more than happy to remove it! Just let me know.

[Part 2]

The Guy Who Really Hated Brigadoon

TGWDLM starts off with the greatest song ever to feature dancing zombies… at least I can’t think of any other notable ones.

In the title song, the cast of singing and dancing zombies explain to us that all great stories have to have a hero, someone who knows right and wrong and that the best way to do this is through singing and dancing in musicals. This with the later line of “they evoke the philosophical” make me think that Pokey took a class in Campbell’s Hero Myth in College and became that guy.

Hatchetfield Challenge: try not to shrug your shoulders along with the music at the chorus. Its impossible. No wonder the Hive spread so quickly. Literally killer dance moves.

So then they introduce us to an awful Grinch named Paul and we hit the first point in the show where I laugh out loud every single time I watch.

I know TGWDLM was not originally intended to be the first Hatchetfield show but starting this series with a song which sets up the story so well is truly spectacular. And is there anything more Starkid than introducing your main character by having other characters sing about how awful they are?

One thing I have noticed while writing, reading and collating Hatchetfield theories is that while most Black Friday and Nightmare Time theories are usually about the overall Hatchetfield lore, most TGWDLM theories are usually quite self-contained and focused on this one show. TGWDLM – while so fully within the Hatchetfield extended universe, is definitely the show that can best stand-alone without the others.

It’s the end of the world, Paul

If you don’t sing

This is the bridge, Paul

Where we globalize everything

And the words will come to you

We swear we will teach you

What it means to love

What it means to obey, Paul!

On a first watch this is very funny. On your 10th watch this is terrifying.

CCRP Technical: No-one here knows how to use their printer

Following the absolute bop of a title song we find ourselves in CCRP Technical and all feels very… normal. It’s very weird following all the revelations in subsequent Hatchetfield media, to be watching a show where there was genuinely nothing obviously fishy about CCRP. We’ll obviously discuss CCRP more when we get to Nightmare Time, but for now all we know is that Paul works in the technical department of CCRP – an unknown corporation, with some key characters, Charlotte, Bill and Ted.

We also find out more about Grinch Paul’s personality and honestly, Paul is me pre-pandemic just outright avoiding social interactions and suddenly going for coffee in the middle of the work day. (I have become a changed woman in lockdown – someone please invite me somewhere… anywhere!)

For all the dark humour and death in the Hatchetfield series, Starkid do know how to bring the joy – I love how excited the town of Hatchetfield are for a touring production of Mamma Mia.

Fake Fact: TGWDLM is actually an allegory for Europe in the 1970s, when we all became mind-controlled by Abba’s Waterloo. (Find me a better explanation for Eurovision, I dare you! The sequins were just too shiny!)

“The idea of sitting there… trapped in a musical. That is my own personal hell.”

Two words: Emma Perkins – need I explain any more?

Ah Hot Chocolate Boy. I really look forward to finding out more about him. Where does he come from? He just appears out of the ether. What’s his story? How old is he? How many hot chocolates does he have per day? I know we have since had some confirmation on who he is, but they raise more questions than answers. For now I will just point you to a gorgeous Mood Board by @hatchetfieldmoodboards which features a bit of a spoiler.

For real though – is it just me who would love a full version of “I’ve been brewing up your coffee”?

Hatchetfield Challenge: Try not to sing “Shut the f*ck up” along with Emma.

“Watching people sing and dance makes me very uncomfortable”- oh boy Paul… you’re not going to enjoy the next hour and 40 minutes. Also, Paul, you’re making me uncomfortable watching you throw your brand new coffee around as if you’ve just been given an empty cup. There’s imaginary coffee everywhere. Hopefully, HCB won’t slip on it before it’s cleaned up… he’s already having a bad day.

“Thunder and Lightning… very very frightening. But a big rock hurtling through the clouds is no biggie.” – all the residents of Hatchetfield apparently.

The next sequence happens so fast and we get introduced to a lot of characters. Notably Greenpeace Girl, Alice and Deb, Sam, and Hidgens (though we don’t find out his name until much later). This scene impresses me because they do such a great job of very quickly bringing out so many characters who nonetheless are memorable when they return later in the show.

Peanuts the Hatchetfield Pocket Squirrel is an Eldritch Being. I won’t go into Peanuts theories here as that could be a whole post in itself – and many a person more brilliant than I have written some fantastic theories on this. You can learn all about how a Squirrel took over the fandom in the following posts:

@dahlialupine : x

@frombothofmyhearts: x

@abiimaryy: x

And finally mine which is definitely a serious theory: x

It’s… A… Musical!

Now to remember we are actually watching a musical. La Dee Da Da Day is such a happy joyful song performed spectacularly by a throng of the undead.

The song is about the Hive singing about how much of a great time they are having now they are tap-dancing zombies, and trying to find ways to convince Paul he should join them too. So the grins on all their faces are not at all terrifying.

It’s worth noting also that according to the laws of the TGWDLM world, only those infected by the Hive can hear the music in the background. This becomes important later when it becomes clear some characters have started being infected before they are fully turned into zombies, but for now it just paints quite a funny picture of what Paul must be witnessing. I definitely think for him, this whole scene just sounds like this clip of Greased Lightning without the music: x

The important thing here however, besides Mariah’s singing, is that the Hive leave Paul alone. They don’t actually attempt to turn him at this point. I have a theory on the implications of this, but note this has big spoilers for the end of the show and Black Friday. It was written before we knew that the Hive (Pokey) was related to Wiggly but the content still stands: x

Charlotte, Honey, you don’t need that much sugar – you’re sweet enough

For reference:

@melchron noted that the lyrics for La Dee Dah sound very similar to the incantation for soul transferal read out in Jane’s a Car, which leads me to two possible implications.

The Freaky Furbies have a language other than English that they use for their incantations so this is why they sound similar.

There is soul transference happening to the souls of the bodies the Hive take over.

Or it’s just Starkid using similar sounding words for their content…. Three! There are three possible implications…

Paul – just print off another copy of the report

From this point on the musical numbers really do come thick and fast. We move on to the first instance of Jeff Blim encouraging Paul to talk about his feelings, which I am sure is not important and isn’t worth discussing. Paul goes through a musical rendition of a promotion interview, which is actually the Hive attempting to find out if he will be the “hero” of their story. They picked out Paul for the role from the start. That he was chosen was inevitable.

What do you see for this company? I'm looking for someone with strong ambition Someone to sell their specific vision Someone to share with precise precision their thoughts 'Cause I want you to want…To want

So it turns out these will be looooong, so I will end here and see you in part 2! I’m not sure yet what the upload frequency will be. It takes quite a while to go through the show like this but it is a lot of fun!

Hatchetfield High Homework:

Where do you stand on the Peanuts the Hatchetfield Pocket Squirrel debate?

Why do you think that the Soul Transference Spell and La Dee Dah sound so similar?

Go follow all the lovely people mentioned in this post!

Bonus points if you know the reference in the post title.

[Part 2]

#the guy who didn't like musicals #tgwdlm #return to hatchetfield town #starkid #team starkid

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akechi-gf · 4 years ago

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Analyzing the state of Akechi's health via the color of his pee (among other inferences)

The only canonical instance we have of seeing Akechi pee is in episode 22, where a 7-year old him of the past pees his pants in order to fend off bullies. Another notable mention is in episode 6 of Saiki K Reawakened where he is frightened by his calculations of how quick the meteor is falling not matching the official news report, however the pee is not actually seen. (This shows his distrust in authorities and their choices, which is why he felt the need to start his own calculations in the first place. The fact that his calculations didn't match only furthered his distrust to authority figures, which most likely stemmed from the lack of action of his teachers as a child while being bullied, alongside the divorce of his parents. That aside, let me get back on topic.)

Attached here is the photo of Akechi's pee, as well as the general set-up of their classroom. See also a pee color chart provided by an online healthcare site.

Now, when comparing this to a piss chart, at first glance, you would assume that his pee is at the eighth shade, which, yes, I can see. Upon color-swatching the pee puddle, it's most similar. However, keep in mind that the floor is a deep shade of brown, obscuring the true color of Akechi's pee.

I'm not an artist nor am I a piss-connoisseur, however keeping in mind that the shade of the floor would affect the overall image of the puddle, I would say that his pee is actually a kind mix of shades 4-5. This is slightly less dire of a situation when compared to the earlier assumption of 8, however, still concerning.

We're not actually provided a specific time in which the events take place, only an estimate of the year and everyone's age. So, I took the liberty to research a regular Japanese student's elementary school schedule. I found that the school day normally begins at 8;45 AM (which means Akechi would have arrived to his classroom at around 7-00 AM, considering his studious nature) and ends at 3:15 PM. Now, judging from the students' casual language and the fact that none of them (save for Saiki and a few others) were in their seats, we can infer that this was at around their lunch, recess, or dismissal. It's also notable that their seats aren't aligned, instead in a rather messy sort of disarray. While suspicious, we can assume that this is most likely due to them being rowdy children.

I decided to rewatch this particular scene, and noticed that we don't have a clip of the sun in the sky seen through the window. Due to this, we can conclude that this was earlier in the day, seeing as at 12:00 noon and 3:15 in the afternoon, the sun would be smack dab by the middle of the scene. At 7, however, the sun would be higher in the sky, perhaps covered by a few clouds.

To back this up, the quick arrival of their teacher proves that he was getting ready to enter the classroom regardless. Back to the topic of Akechi's shining puddle of piss, we can assume that he matches the shade 4, rather than 5. How did I arrive at this conclusion? Simple.

If Akechi arrived to school within the timeframe 7-8 AM, that means he woke up at 5:00 to 5:30 AM. Keep in mind that he showers, changes, eats breakfast, and walks to school. (We can assume that Akechi walks to school, because of a scene in episode 22 , where a young Saiki corners Kuriko. After questioning Kuriko, Akechi is seen running after Kusuo, saying something along the lines of "Kusuo-kun, wait for me!" This implies that he and Kusuo regularly walk home together. If Akechi (at this time, Asumi's parents couldn't pick Akechi up from school, it's most likely that they didn't drop him off.) Now, the fact that Akechi's pee is at shade 4 is still a subject that shouldn't be forgotten. Regardless of the fact that he walked to school, the scene of him peeing takes place only moments before class starts. Assuming that Akechi did eat breakfast, the fact that his pee wasn't within the shade range 2-3 implies that he didn't drink enough water for someone of his age, height, and weight.

According to BBC food, it's a general rule of thumb that children aged 4-13 should drink at least 6-8 glasses of water a day. Now, one might argue that since only breakfast had passed, Akechi would have only gotten to drink 1-2 glasses. To that, i offer this rebuttal; please keep in mind that the dark shade could mean he hadn't gotten enough water to drink the day prior, either.

Darker piss is not actually ONLY due to dehydration, as it could be a symptom to hepatitis, rhabdomylosis, cirrhosis, glomerulonephritis, biliary obstruction, gallstones, bladder stones, cancer, jaundice, liver disease, malaria, thalassemia, or trauma. However, due to Akechi's over-all healthy appearance as a high school student (and the fact that he neglected to include any mention of that in his introduction in episode 18), it's unlikely that any of these are the case. At the most, it could be a symptom of trauma (Perhaps from the fighting that would have went down with his parents pre-divorce), however dehydration is the likeliest cause.

Not to fret, not all hope is lost. I decided to look into Healthline's article on dark urine backed by urology, and a turbid or cloudier puddle would have meant that Akechi could have had a bacterial infection in his urinary of digestive tract, the cloudiness being caused by an excess production of white blood cells. (Yes, there is a certain science to the study of urine.) Judging from the shinier appearance of the puddle, Akechi avoided any sort of infection. In fact, the shinier puddle shows that Akechi took water soluble vitamins. Shinier and oilier piss isn't something bad, since vitamins that don't completely absorb are emptied into the urine.

Onto my next point: Why does Akechi pee so much? I looked into cases online, and at first, it seemed like a classic case of incontinence in men; an enlarged prostate putting unneeded pressure on one's urethra, forcing one to pee. Perhaps Akechi had that, and couldn't tell. (Overactive bladders and enlarged prostates are normally detected in men as they grow older, younger men aren't often diagnosed, let alone children or high schoolers.) However, I noticed the fact that Akechi never implied that he 'simply couldn't reach the bathroom in time'. As a child, Akechi said that when he lost control of his emotions, more specifically, his anger, he tended to pee.

Now, I tried searching the keywords 'anger leading to pee' and was greeted by a multitude of dog behavioral blogs online. However, my search wasn't fruitless. I continued to search variations of the statement, and eventually, I came to the conclusion that this isn't normal. Psychological stress is related to one's incontinence, yes, but only under intense moments of fear. Akechi was simply peeing on purpose, to push Takashi away. In a way, this behavior is similar to a dog peeing on a rug to anger their owner. This is only solidified by the smug look on Akechi's face as he tells Takashi to "You better let go of me. Look at your shoes."

I would say that this is why we don't see Akechi pee in the episodes where he's featured as a high schooler in PK. (Save for the instance in episode 6 of Reawakened, however, as previously mentioned, psychological stress, specifically fear, can increase chances of incontinence.) He’s matured as a person, and he no longer has anyone bullying him, therefore he no longer feels the need to pee to assert dominance.

TL; DR

Akechi needs to drink more water (and possibly get a therapist and a prostate checkup, just in case).

References;

https://www.healthdirect.gov.au/urine-colour-chart

https://urologyspecialistnc.com/changes-in-urine

https://healthline.com/health/dark-urine#causes

https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/stress-incontinence/symptoms-causes/syc-20355727

https://forum.greytalk.com/topic/274807-peeing-in-anger/

https://calmenergydogtraining.com/2012/10/revenge-peeing-fact-or-fiction/

#akechi touma #saiki k #saiki no psi nan #saiki k reawakened #shitpost #akechi #touma #how do u use tumblr....

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lunarreaper-ut · 3 years ago

Text

Also not undertale related

A continuation of my last post! This is probably the most interesting bits! Again, I’ll put it under the cut for those not interested. Still kinda long, so be warned! (Also if you don’t know about the game, some of these things might get a bit confusing/weird >w<)

NOTE: All SC uniforms require specialized masks, gloves, and are fully sealed if capable. We’ll start from the most common SCs to the least common!

Common Carrier

Common Carriers would be enlisted purely in the event of handling an outbreak. They would be put in the frontline since they are “immune” to the Green Flu. Essentially, they’re expendables that are only used during outbreaks.

Hunter Carrier

Hunter SCs have minor visible physical mutations, making them the most normal looking of the SCs. Their uniforms are designed to allow more physical mobility, and they wear a red band to signify their SC type.

Increased lower body strength

This SC is similar to their infected counterpart in jumping ability, however they can only jump a little over half the distance, and require frequent breaks to continue traveling in such a way.

While still capable to scale buildings, it is done with much more difficulty and requires extensive training to master.

Poor Eyesight

When infected, these SCs begin to lose part of their vision, becoming partially/fully blind.

This, however, improves all other senses. They can hear a pin drop on a carpeted floor from over 100 feet away.

They can smell the difference between a non-infected and an infected person

Claws

While the physical mutations are limited, these SCs’ hands grow thick, sharpened claws capable of rending flesh from bone.

The nails on their feet may also grow similarly, but not in every instance.

Pain Tolerance

Due to the strain put on these SCs’ muscles, their bodies have mutated to be resistant to pain. This doesn’t mean they don’t feel it though.

Smoker Carrier

While this SC’s mutations are more extensive, they aren’t nearly as severe as their infected counterparts. This SC will mutate growths, primarily around the face, neck and chest, (As seen in game), which appear as more of a highly irritated rash or small boils. Their uniforms are more plain, with a yellow band to signify their type.

Thickened Skin

Unlike their infected counterparts, these SCs develop a hardened skin that is resistant to blades and claws. This is believed to be an altered mutation to the severe growths and boils that appear on a smoker.

Smoke

This SC is capable of blowing a large amount of thick smoke over an area, creating a smoke screen. Similar to their infected counterparts, the smoke is harmless, but has a putrid stench.

Tongue

Their tongue mutation is nowhere near that of the infected, but it does seem to have more variety in SCs, ranging from no mutation in the tongue, to being long enough that it no longer fits in their mouth.

Some variants are able to shoot out their tongue much like the infected, however this would only be useful in short distances, and it wouldn’t be nearly as strong.

If their tongue is cut off, however, it is capable of growing back, though the SC would be in extreme pain.

Physical strength

While not the strongest SC, they are still physically stronger than the average soldier, both in and out of combat.

Boomer Carrier

These SCs appear to be bloated, though less so than their infected counterparts, and in some cases will grow boil-like growths. Though they have a build-up of bile like the infected, it is nowhere near as severe. Simply shooting this SC, while it will hurt them as it would any human, won’t cause them to explode. Their uniforms tend to be oversized in the event of increased or decreased bloating, and they wear a green band to signify their type.

Bile

The increased build-up of bile is able to be thrown up like a regular boomer, but in controlled amounts. This has helped the military in mass producing bile bombs if needed.

This SCs’ stomach acid is far more acidic than normal, and rather than just attracting infected, it also can cause burns.

Due to the frequent production of bile, this SC requires a steady amount of food in order to keep their energy up as their body continuously produces bile.

This also means they need to frequently expunge bile from their system, as to prevent further bloating.

Charger Carrier

These SCs are the most similar to their infected counterparts mutation wise. This SC mutates increased muscle mass in one arm, most often their dominant arm. In most cases, the mutations don’t go as far as to hinder that arm’s usage, but it remains very obvious. These SCs’ uniforms have a sleeve removed for their large arm, and a brown band to signify their type. These SCs are also rarely allowed to walk freely amongst uninfected soldiers, due to risk of infection through physical contact.

Arm

The mutated arm will often be stronger than the other, the SC able to lift a fully grown person with said arm.

Despite the increased strength, this SC will have a lot of adjusting to do due to the mutation. They will have a difficult time learning how to work around the arm, and use it properly. Many SCs of this type report balance issues within the first month of mutation.

Increased Body Mass

While this SC’s growth primarily lies in their arm mass, this SC will also grow in height and weight in order to support the larger arm.

The bone structure of this SC will become thicker and many SC of this type will deal with severe growing pains as they mutate. These growing pains may persist after mutation, but will lessen greatly.

The legs will also become strong enough to run despite the off-balance weight of the arm.

Jockey Carrier

These SC come from the disabled population of Carriers, those who were bound to wheelchairs. They appear to be hunchbacked due to increased muscle growth in the upper back and neck, causing them to be top heavy. Most of these SCs use a cane in daily life to walk around properly. These SCs’ uniforms are fairly plain, fitted to their abnormal figure, and they wear an orange band to signify their type.

Jump

Similar jumping capability of the Hunter SC, but not nearly as good, and they aren’t as physically capable either.

These SCs are primarily used for scouting rather than combat.

Spitter Carrier

These SCs are similar to the Boomer SCs, however they produce acid rather than bile. This causes them a lot of discomfort and they have specific diets to adhere to in order to prevent inflammatory disease and relieve digestive pain. Their uniforms are fairly plain, with a bright green band to signify their type.

Acid

These SC are incapable of spitting their acid as a projectile, but they produce a lot of it like the Boomer SC, and thus the military has developed a special container for their acid. They use these as grenades.

This acid is corrosive to herself, however, and she produces it at a frequent rate. The Military has developed some medication in order to reduce the amount of acid she produces.

Tank Carrier

These SCs are rare. They mutate an advanced form of Gigantism, becoming increasingly tall and strong. Their uniforms are designed large enough to fit their form, and have a grey band to identify their type, not that it’s really needed. These SCs are also susceptible to anger issues, and will often need to be kept tabs on and provided proper mental treatment.

Increased Strength

While incapable of pulling a chunk of asphalt out of the road, these SCs are capable of crushing a human skull with one fist

This increased strength requires a lot of energy, and thus they require a large diet. The military, if this SC is within their ranks, ensures their diet is taken care of due to their usefulness. These SCs are also highly monitored.

Endurance

These SC are capable of fighting seemingly endlessly.

The more they fight, however, the longer they need to recover their stamina. (Typically by eating)

Pain Tolerance

These SC are capable of taking multiple bullet wounds before starting to feel weak.

They are also highly tolerant of pain, feeling at most a bad sting when shot.

Witch Carrier

These SCs are even rarer than the Tank SC, and also unstable. They appear as a human woman, but with a pale complexion and with white hair. Their eyes can be either a deep red or an almost luminous yellow. They appear to be very thin. These SCs can be very dangerous if angered, and are capable of temporarily losing control of themselves and becoming much more like their infected counterparts. They require a large amount of food, due to a high metabolism. They prefer sugary foods most, and get irritable when hungry. These SCs also have what seems to be a constant fever, making them sensitive to heat. Their Uniforms, despite this, provide full coverage, but are made of a thin, strong, breathable material to help alleviate this. They wear a white band to mark their type.

Increased Strength

These SCs are strong enough to throw a human a fair distance, or keep them pinned down long enough for them to slit their throat.

Claws

While their infected counterparts have long fingers which end in claws, these SCs have retractable claws.

If these SCs don’t have a proper diet, however, their claws will be weaker, susceptible to breaking or even being incapable of using them.

Their claws could easily slice through metal, and unlike their wilder counterparts, these SCs don’t behave animalistically when using them.

Pain Tolerance

Despite their small form, these SCs are similar to Tank SCs, able to take several bullet wounds before becoming weak, however they are not nearly as strong and can take damage much easier than the Tank SCs

Their hands no longer feel pain, due to their ability to grow and retract their claws. This does, however, mean they also have limited feeling in their hands as well.

Speed

These SCs are by far the fastest, capable of running down even the Hunter SCs within seconds flat

Eyes

These SC have incredible eyesight, capable of seeing in almost near darkness

They are also incredibly perceptive, with heightened hearing and smell

This does, however, make them sensitive to harsh light and loud sounds. If these SCs do not have good emotional discipline, they may become much more like their infected counterparts, flying into a rage to destroy what has disturbed them.

And that’s everything! Thanks so much for taking the time to read this! I thought it was interesting enough to share, and I put a lot of work into it back when I created it... last year I think? I hope you enjoyed!

#Luna's rambles #Luna's writing #l4d #Left 4 Dead #Not undertale #Whew #that's a lot of info #Project Carrier

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uncloseted · 3 years ago

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my mom believes in homeopathy and i don't know what to do. our town homeopath died not so long ago so she won't be recommending him to people anymore, but she still believes in the system. apparently he cured my brother's hyperthyroidism and my nephew's alopecia. she says that he went to tons of real doctors and the only thing that worked was homeopathy. that left me speechless. im still skeptical but how do you explain that? and if it's a placebo but it works, then why shouldn't we use it?

This answer is going to be a long one, so I apologize in advance. Apologies also for how long this has taken for me to write and publish. As always, I want to make sure that I answer every part of this question with thought, care, and sources. To make it easier to navigate, I'm going to add headers for each section. What are Homeopathic "Remedies"? The first thing I want to do is clarify what homeopathic "remedies" actually are and what the theory behind homeopathy is. Often, I think we imagine that homeopathy is just herbalism- using "natural" plants as "medicine". By itself, doing that is kind of a dubious approach to treating illness, but it can be at least somewhat effective. It's important to understand that that's not what homeopathy is. Homeopathy is an alternative "medicine" practice created in 1796 by Samuel Hahnemann as a reaction to the mainstream medicine of the late 18th century. Hahnemann's homeopathy is based on the doctrine that "like cures like"- that a disease can be cured by a substance that produces similar symptoms to that disease in healthy people. In order to prevent those symptoms from occurring as a result of the "remedy", homeopathy also subscribes to something called the “law of minimum dose”—the notion that the lower the dose of the medication, the greater its effectiveness. This is inconsistent with what science knows about dose-response relationships, where the effect of a dose is reliant on the concentration of the active ingredient. Many homeopathic products are so diluted that no molecules of the original active ingredient remain. Modern advocates of homeopathy have suggested that water "remembers" the substances mixed in it, and transmits the effect of those substances when it's consumed. This isn't consistent with our scientific understanding of matter. Homeopathy also traditionally includes the concept of "miasms" as the "infectious principle" behind illnesses (including illnesses like epilepsy, cancer, deafness, and cataracts). Miasms are a negative force (imagined to be kind of like a cloud or fog) that serve no purpose other than to make humans miserable and ultimately kill them. Traditionally, homeopaths believe that individual symptoms should not be alleviated, since it will only drive the miasm deeper and the miasm will "manifest itself as diseases of the internal organs". They believe that in order to cure illness, the miasm must be removed from the "vital force". The concept of miasms have become less popular in modern times, but there are still homeopaths who base their practice around it. It's important to know that none of these ideas are backed by the scientific method, nor have they been shown to be effective when subjected to the scientific method. That said, you can kind of see concepts in homeopathy that are 18th century explanations for phenomena that are real. For example, "like cures like" and "law of minimum dose" is actually kind of how vaccines work: you give a very small bit ("a minimum dose") of a disease-causing microorganism or an agent that resembles a disease-causing microorganism ("like cures like"), which trains the body's immune system to recognize that agent as a threat. Another example is airborne infectious diseases. It is possible to get certain illnesses (such as COVID-19, measles, chickenpox, the flu, and norovirus) if you encounter a "miasm" (what we now call droplets of an airborne infectious disease). The problem with homeopathy is that it's not the 18th century anymore. Science has moved on from using "like cures like" and "miasms" as explanations for illness. We know that "like cures like" is not an effective treatment for every illness, and we know that not all illnesses are "miasms" (airborne). We have a better grasp of things like genetics, viruses, infections, and environmental factors that allow us to more effectively understand what causes illnesses and how to provide effective, reliable treatments for those illnesses. What's the Harm? Problems with Homeopathic "Remedies" Moving on, I want to start with

your last question first. If homeopathic "remedies" are a placebo and they work, why shouldn't we use them? What's the harm? There are three main problems with using homeopathic "remedies" that I want to discuss. The first and most important answer is just that they don't work. I'll do a deeper dive on the evidence against homeopathic "remedies" and why homeopathic "remedies" don't work in a second, but for now, just know that the first problem is that homeopathy can't fix the health problems people are looking to solve. The placebo effect is pretty limited in its scope; it generally works for subjective, patient-reported outcomes such as pain and nausea, but it doesn't usually affect the actual disease. For example, when the placebo effect is used to treat insomnia, patients perceive that they've slept better, but it doesn't actually improve the amount of time it takes a person to fall asleep. The second problem is that homeopathic "remedies" aren't always harmless. While they're generally "unlikely to provoke severe adverse reactions", there have been cases of those "remedies" being taken off of the market because they've caused serious symptoms such as seizures. In the US, homeopathic "remedies" aren't overseen by the FDA in the same what that medications are. As a result, there's no assurance that the substance you think you're getting is what you're actually getting. Frequently, "remedies" are a waste of money because they don't have enough of the active ingredient to work at all. This is especially true if the product you're getting is a "dilution", which intentionally gets rid of the molecules of the original material as a result of the "law of minimum dose", but it can even be true of things like nutritional supplements that you can buy at CVS or Walmart. In the US, there's no group tasked with objectively testing the claims made by companies that sell "remedies", and there's no group making sure that "remedies" don't have ingredients in them that are unsafe. Belladonna, arsenic, and poison ivy have been found at detectable levels in homeopathic "remedies", and cases of arsenic poisoning in particular have occurred. But because homeopathic products are marketed as if they're "drugs", many people assume they wouldn't be allowed to be sold if they weren't good, if they didn't work, or if they were advertising falsely, and so they keep buying them. If you see an individual homeopath, this problem is compounded. "Homeopath" is not a protected term in the US, meaning that anyone can claim to be one. In turn, this means that there's no licensing board that oversees their work, no professional association or government agency that keeps them accountable for their mistakes, and no educational credentials that they need to begin practicing. Your local homeopath may have no background in biology, medicine, chemistry, pharmacology, or even homeopathic or alternative medicine practices. They can literally just be a person, one who you're trusting to cure your ailments and to not accidentally poison you in the process. The last issue I want to bring up is that homeopathy is often (although not always) viewed as being an acceptable replacement for evidence-backed medicine. This means that often, people who see a homeopath aren't seeing a medical doctor, and their symptoms aren't being treated by evidence-based medicine. By not taking an evidence-based approach to intervening in illness, outcomes are significantly worsened, especially for serious, life-threatening conditions such as cancer. Patients have died as a result of opting to take a homeopathic approach to illness instead of receiving proper treatment for diseases that could have been easily managed by evidence-backed medicine. This becomes an even bigger problem when it comes to public health issues. People who view homeopathy as being equal to or better than evidence-backed medicine are more likely to be anti-vaxxers and to not vaccinate their children. Reductions in vaccination rates have led to resurgences of diseases that had previously

been close to elimination. The US has seen a resurgence of whooping cough, measles, and tetanus as a result of anti-vax sentiment. Those resurgences directly endanger people who cannot be vaccinated due to chronic health issues, people with allergies to ingredients in vaccines, and people who cannot choose to be vaccinated, such as children. How Effective Are Homeopathic "Remedies"? Next, let's talk about studies that look into the efficacy of homeopathic "remedies". Government level reviews of homeopathic "remedies" have been conducted by the UK, Australia, and the European Academies' Science Advisory Council. The UK's study found that there was "no compelling evidence of effect". Australia conducted a meta-analysis of 1800 papers, and found that "there were no health conditions for which there was reliable evidence that homeopathy was effective." EASAC found that there was a lack of evidence that homeopathic products are effective, and raised concerns about quality control. Additionally, there have been systemic reviews and meta-analyses of the efficacy of homeopathic "remedies" from doctors, universities, and medical researchers. In 2005, The Lancet (one of the world's oldest, best-known, and respected medical journals) published a meta-analysis looking at the efficacy of homeopathy. Basically, that means that they looked at data from 110 homeopathy trials. These trials were included in the study because they had a completely randomized set of patients who don't know whether they were getting a "homeopathic treatment" or a placebo pill. This type of "blinded" study allows researchers to see how effective the intervention (in this case, a homeopathic "treatment") actually is. Their findings were, "compatible with the notion that the clinical effects of homeopathy are placebo effects". Meta-analyses have also been conducted on the application of homeopathy for individual diseases, including cancer, ADHD, asthma, insomnia, fibromyalgia, dementia, IBS, osteoarthritis, migraines, ecchymosis and edema, and dermatological conditions, and all have found the same result. The UK's NHS, the American Medical Association, the Federation of American Societies for Experimental Biology, the National Health Service and Medical Research Council of Australia, the World Health Organization, the American College of Medical Toxicology, the American Academy of Clinical Toxicology, the Russian Academy of Sciences, and even the acting deputy director of the National Center for Complementary and Alternative Medicine have all come out against the use of homeopathy, saying that there's "no good quality evidence that homeopathy is effective as treatment for any health condition", recommending that no one use homeopathic "treatments" for disease or as a preventative health measure, and noting that there is evidence that using these treatments can produce harm and indirect health risks. But it Seems Like it Works! What Else Could Have Happened? In terms of what happened with your brother's hyperthyroidism and your nephew's alopecia, I'm perfectly happy to admit that I have no idea. I don't know what the homeopath gave them or what else they were taking or what else they were doing during that period of time that might have changed their health status. I can offer you some hypotheses (and I will in a second), but I don't know, and that's okay. What I do know about is the current state of research on homeopathic "remedies" overall, and how it holds up when subjected to the scientific method. There are a few common culprits for why homeopathy may seem to work. I'm going to go over those now, and then I'll dig into some theories for what may have happened with your brother and nephew. These culprits include:

Placebo effect- we talked about this one earlier, but essentially, if people believe that a "treatment" will work, they're also more likely to believe the "treatment" worked after taking it. As a result, they will report feeling better on subjective measures such as pain.

Natural healing- with time, the body can sometimes heal itself without medical assistance. This is most common for things like viruses.

Therapeutic effect of consultation- care, concern, and reassurance from a compassionate caregiver can have a positive impact on the patient's assessment of their well-being, even if objective assessments of their well-being stay the same.

Regression towards the mean- many conditions and diseases are cyclical. The patient may notice a decrease in symptoms that they attribute to homeopathic "remedies", but are actually just a result of moving to a different stage of the disease cycle.

Cessation of unpleasant treatment- a homeopath may suggest that patients stop receiving medical treatment. Medical treatments can sometimes have unpleasant side effects, and so halting those treatments can make the patient feel better in the short term. The patient attributes the decrease in symptoms to the homeopathic "remedy" but it's actually that they stopped taking a medication that has side effects. In the short term, this feels good, but in the long term it is destructive because the disease isn't being treated.

Non-homeopathic treatment- the patient is also receiving medical care, and the medical care is responsible for the decrease in symptoms, not the homeopathic "remedy".

Unrecognized treatments- an unrelated food, exercise, environmental agent, treatment for a different ailment, etc. is also treating the patient's medical condition and is responsible for the decrease in symptoms.

For alopecia areata (hair loss in patches on the scalp), spontaneous remission is actually more common than you might expect. In most cases that begin with a small number of patches of hair loss, hair grows back after a few months to a year. It's possible that your nephew's hair just... grew back, especially if time had passed. It's also possible your nephew's parents were treating his alopecia other ways (minoxidil, contact immunotherapy, corticosteroids, a gluten free diet if the alopecia was associated with celiac disease) and just didn't tell you or your mum. Hyperthyroidism is a bit more difficult to guess at. It could be that your brother's medical doctors switched him to a different medication that did work or changed his dosage. If you're sure that's not it, it could be that he switched his diet to one that's low iodine and low in caffeine. Research suggests that, although a low iodine diet cannot cure hyperthyroidism, it can reduce or alleviate the symptoms in some people. If your brother went vegetarian, vegan, or stopped eating fish, that could be the culprit. If he stopped taking a multivitamin that contains iodine, that could be it. If he started eating a ton of foods high in goitrogens (soy, cassava, cabbage, cauliflower), that could also contribute to what happened, since goitrogens interfere with the uptake of iodine in the thyroid. It's also possible he was misdiagnosed, but if it's true that he went to "tons of real doctors", that seems fairly unlikely. Again, all of these are just guesses for the purpose of illustrating what confounding factors may have been present. I think the bottom line with stories like these are that you're hearing them secondhand. You don't know how many doctors your nephew or brother saw, or the quality of those doctors, or what they diagnosed, or what they prescribed, or how many different lifestyle changes they tried. You don't know what the homeopath prescribed them, or if they took it. You're hearing a story of miracles through the mouth of a believer, and that can make it difficult to know what is and isn't true (in a medically accurate kind of way). It's possible that your mum's homeopath has stumbled upon a treatment for alopecia and one for hyperthyroidism that work better than traditional medicine. I hope that's true. We can always use better treatments, especially for difficult-to-cure conditions like alopecia. But I think it's more likely that there's just some piece of information you weren't given. What do I do? Getting to your original question, there's not a ton of evidence-backed research (that I could find, at least) for how to change people's minds about homeopathy, but there is data on changing people's minds with regard to vaccines, and I think using those tactics may work in both cases. What to do about your mum's beliefs in homeopathy depend on where those beliefs come from, how entrenched they are, and how it's impacting her life. If she's just someone who tries lifestyle changes and supplements from CVS first before going to a doctor and if she believes in vaccination, homeopathy is a waste of time and money, but it's probably not too big of a problem. In that case, it may not be worth pushing her about it, especially if she hasn't found a new homeopath after her old one passed away. If she's anti-vax and/or refuses to see medical doctors, that's a bigger problem, and it's worth having a conversation about. Changing her views is likely to take time, so be prepared to have at least a few conversations about these topics. And be prepared to step away from the conversation and resume it at a later time if it becomes too contentious. Start by asking her about her fears with regard to evidence-backed medicine. Do your best to be curious rather than judgmental in those conversations and to be a good listener. Respect is the most important tool in changing a person's mind, so try not to interrupt, be dismissive, or combat her beliefs off the bat. Affirm her right to have questions (but not the validity of the actual concern), and

try to say positive things about her in the conversation (for example, "I can see you really want to do everything you can to keep yourself healthy and safe"). Focus on her feelings, not facts. By trying to understand where she's coming from, you can begin to understand where her hesitations are and how those fears might be remedied. For example, a lot of people who believe in homeopathy do so in part because they feel like homeopathic practitioners listen to them, respect them, and care about them more than medical doctors do. They've usually had a bad experience with medical doctors. Knowing where her fears lie gives you a better idea of what she needs in a medical context, and can help you figure out how to dispel misconceptions she has about medicine or find alternatives that actually work. In the case of feeling like medical doctors don't respect her, you may be able to help your mum find a medical doctor who will spend longer with her and really listen to what she has to say. You can try asking her follow-up questions that allow her to investigate her own beliefs. For example, you might try asking about Hahnemann's ideas of "like cures like", "the law of minimum dose" or "water memory" and see how she reacts. Many people, even those who use homeopathic "remedies", don't know the principles that it's based on, and will eventually express skepticism when asked to explain them. It's tempting to try and combat pseudoscience with facts, but studies suggest that presenting facts makes people more likely to cling to their original beliefs. It's better to let people investigate their beliefs on their own through asking the right questions. You might also try this technique. Ask her how likely she would be to see a medical doctor/get a vaccine, on a scale of 0-10. If she says 1 or 0, this strategy isn't going to work. But if she says 2 or 3, then you can ask her why she's not a 0. Why is she not fully saying she won't see a medical doctor or get a vaccine? This forces her to explain what she thinks the positives of medical doctors/vaccinations are. Now you're on the same side; you both think there are some positives to the medical profession. Reinforce those ideas when you talk to her. From there, you can ask what would make her more likely to see a medical doctor/get a vaccine, and when she answers, you can point to the places where those things exist in the medical field. If nothing else works, you could try finding ways to make evidence-based medicine and vaccination compatible with her beliefs. Perhaps you could try using the language of homeopathy to explain medical issues and their treatments. For example, with COVID, it might work to tell her that COVID is a miasm, and that researchers used "like cures like" and the “law of minimum dose” to create a vaccine to remove the miasm from the "vital force". All of that is technically true, at least in a sense. It's just not the language scientists would use to describe what happens. To Sum It Up The medical establishment definitely has issues it needs to work on. The lack of compassionate, respectful care in many medical settings is a real problem, and it has real consequences. There are some situations in which a placebo is a potentially valid approach to treatment. But the answer is not to encourage homeopathy. It's to do more research, develop better drugs, and change the ways that doctors interact with their patients. Homeopathy doesn't work, and it does potentially have harmful side effects, both on a personal and societal level. The way we can combat homeopathy is to be curious and respectful, to help people identify and work through their concerns, and to offer them solutions to their medical problems that take those concerns into account.

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yellowmagicalgirl · 4 years ago

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Among Us When Fate Plays Chess

AKA how the versions of the characters in my fic Destiny’s Pawn would play the game Among Us, assuming that in this AU that game was popular during the summer of 2017 bc that’s when I have that fic take place.

Douxie:

Uses the screen name “MEP”. No one knows why. Douxie tells them to try and figure it out.

Prior to losing his hand, he would never kill his friends as the impostor. He would just sabotage and watch his friends devolve into fighting.

Locks himself in with people, then says “If I were going to kill you, surely I would have”

After getting his prosthetic he starts killing his friends because they trust him not to do so

Black with a knight helmet

Krel:

Tries to use Akiridion text for his screen name.

Likes Electrical/Reactor and its related tasks

Conveniently forgets to do O2 crisis because “I don’t need oxygen in real life”

After Douxie gets his prosthetic, Krel got impostor, killed Douxie, waited, and then self reported by saying “Who killed my boyfriend?”

If playing with Aja, he will kill Steve first to make her mad

Cyan, either no hat or party hat

Toby:

Always so nervous as the imposter

Likes MiraHQ best, and whenever he hosts a game he will always choose that location

He also plays the most public games out of the group

If he finishes all his tasks and someone who died had a pet or mini crewmate, he will go hang out with it.

Orange with bear ears or knight helmet

Steve:

Refuses to kill/vote out Eli or Aja on the rare occasion that those two play. They won’t do the same for him.

Forgets which tasks are visible and which ones aren’t

Surprisingly good at calibrating electrical

Likes medbay and storage tasks best.

Lime (or cyan when Krel’s not playing), constantly changes hats

Zoe:

Calls way too many emergency meetings

Sus of everyone

Favorite location is Polus

Pink with cat hat

Bonus People who don’t play often because they’re not the main cast and therefore don’t have as much time

Claire:

Does not like the lore that impostors were once normal crewmates infected by an alien parasite

At least once after Merlin is defeated they played a 3-impostor game where she, Douxie, and Jim were impostors. She played the “oh, sure accuse the mind controlled people card” and everyone feels bad about accusing them until the three of them win.

Really good with vents

Purple, witch hat

Eli:

Likes the buddy system

Most likely to get accused as sus when crewmate

Really good at asteroid elimination

Dark green with antenna

Aja:

Kills as often as possible, sometimes accidentally does it in front of others and has to try and convince everyone that the other person self reported

Dislikes using vents and sabotage

She’d often kill Douxie first and call him sus for no reason for a long time after he broke up and got back together with Krel

Red with knife hat

Jim:

Really hates the tasks that require high dexterity because troll fingers aren’t nimble.

Feels bad when killing, does so anyways

Dark blue (or cyan on occasion) with knight helmet, egg hat, ram horns, or chef hat

Bonus Dialogue that happens After Douxie Gets His Prosthetic

Zoe: *calls emergency meeting*

Zoe: Mordred Ector Pendragon!

Douxie: Zoe we did medbay scan together you KNOW I’m not the impostor and I know you’re not the impostor so WHY?

Zoe: You’ve been using your initials this whole time

Toby: How many cryptic hints did you leave about your identity before we found out???

Douxie: Wow, it’s almost like I thought I was the impostor among you, knowing that one day I might start killing against my will once more

Krel: BTW Steve sus

#hisirdoux casperan #krel tarron #toby domzalski #steve palchuk #toa zoe #claire nuñez #eli pepperjack #aja tarron #jim lake jr #tales of arcadia #when fate plays chess #my au's #krexie #toa mordred #among us

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madmaudlingoes · 5 years ago

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Sewing Your Own Face Mask (Or Wearing A Cloth Mask)

I’m gonna use this post to consolidate what I know about cloth face masks (making or wearing) because I am making myself crazy looking at different proposals and arguments and research. Under a cut so I can keep the post up-to-date without spreading misinfo.

Question: what’s the point of wearing a mask?

Masks of any kind do two things: prevent the wearer from inhaling germs, and prevent the wearer from exhaling germs.

Healthcare workers need masks that will prevent them from getting sick while they treat the sick: that’s why they’ve been desperate to collect N95 masks and face shields. If you’re not a healthcare worker, isolation and social distancing are better ways to avoid being exposed to germs than masking in public. Of course, not everybody can isolate right now -- people still gotta work, gotta buy groceries, gotta use public transit, etc. -- so going out in a mask is a decent compromise.

On the other hand, if you know or strongly suspect you’ve been exposed, wearing a mask can help you avoid infecting others. (This is how masking became a norm in Asian countries long before the coronavirus pandemic.) Again, carriers really shouldn’t be venturing out of isolation at all, but if you can’t avoid it, masking up can minimize the danger you pose to others.

As of 4/3, the Centers for Disease Control recommends that everyone wear a mask when they leave the house.

Update 6/1: As states “re-open,” requirements for face coverings in public may be dropped, but that doesn’t mean you have to stop wearing one. Especially if you’re attending a protest (crowds, lots of chanting/yelling), a mask can still keep you safe.

Question: how well do cloth masks work?

The evidence on this is pretty meh. The US Centers for Disease Control has said, “Any mask is better than no mask,” but studies have shown that cloth masks are strictly inferior to single-use medical masks when it comes to preventing the wearer from getting sick. Some reasons why:

Cloth masks are often made from materials that don’t trap tiny particles as effectively.This video explains how single-use masks work, and why woven material doesn’t work as well as the non-woven polymers that are normally used for medical masks.

Cloth masks absorb and retain moisture more than single-use masks, which reduces their efficacy over time. A study from India found that cloth masks and single-use masks both lose efficacy after two continuous hours, and another study in Vietnam found a single cloth mask worn throughout an eight-hour shift actually performed worse than single-use masks, and possibly even worse than no mask at all.

Cloth masks, depending on their design, may not fit snugly or smoothly, resulting in gaps that permit unfiltered air through. A recent study from Northeastern University in Boston found that pulling a nylon stocking over your mask-- not your whole head, we’re not robbing banks -- could significantly improve the effectiveness of any cloth mask, and even single-use surgical masks, by keeping everything snug.

A wonky mask might also cause you to touch your face more trying to adjust it, resulting in contamination.

Wearers may not be cleaning cloth masks effectively between uses, or may be cross-contaminating their hands when removing a used mask. See “How do I wear a cloth mask?” below.

So a cloth mask is a last resort when isolation isn’t an option and single-use masks aren’t available. As of 6/1, the US is still facing shortages of single-us PPE thanks to mismanagement by the Trump administration, and as states “re-open” the demand for masks will start to increase again.

Question: If cloth masks aren’t effective, why bother with them?

Some healthcare facilities have asked for donations of cloth masks in order to stretch their supply of single-use masks because, as stated above, we’re running out of supplies. Some other orgs (from nursing homes to animal shelters to police forces) have been asking for mask donations to conserve single-use masks for healthcare workers. For most people going out in our daily lives, a reusable cloth mask is more cost-effective than running through boxes of disposables, especially if we’re also doing what we can to avoid high-risk acitivies.

Question: What’s the best material to make a mask out of?

Research by Davies et al (2013) compared several different materials for DIY masking. Two factors are in play: how well does the material trap germ-sized particles, and how well can the wearer breath while wearing it? For example, vacuum bags are great for filtering tiny particles, but turned out to be uncomfortable and difficult to breath through, while woven silk was very breathable but a poor filter. (Some 3D printed masks that are currently circulating could give you fatal CO2 poisoning.)

The Davies papers’ recommendations were cotton knits (like a medium-weight t-shirt) or tightly woven cotton cloth (like a high thread-count pillowcase). More layers isn’t necessarily better, but most patterns in circulation use at least two. Some also incorporate a filter of some kind, either removable or sewn into the mask.

Knit fabric is tricky to sew, especially if you’re a beginner, but the trade-off is that a mask made with knit can achieve a snugger fit. Woven cloth is easier to work with, but the resulting mask may require more tailoring to avoid gaps. If you have a choice, use plain, light-colored fabrics so it’s easier to see stains or wet spots. (Also, frankly, a mask sanitized with bleach regularly won’t retain color for long.) Some hospitals are recommending using two fabric colors if you can, to ensure you can tell the “inside” and “outside” apart easily, but if you don’t have that much fabric laying around, use what you got.

To secure the mask, narrow (1/8 - 1/2 inch) elastic bands are common, but these can pull hair/rub skin. Woven elastic in this size is also getting hard to source, and may contain latex, which is an allergy risk. Consider instead making ties from bias tape or twill tape; narrow strips of sewn fabric; a clean shoelace; or narrow grosgrain ribbon (the kind with ridges).

Some mask designs include a pocket for inserting a separate filter, which improves their protective power. Good ideas for a filter:

Quilt batting or interfacing (Fusible interfacing may help make knits more workable, at the cost of their stretch.)

Extra layers of cloth

shop towels made from microfiber or “hydro-knit” material

Bad ideas for filters include vaccuum bags (not breathable, may contain fiberglass) and cut-up N95 masks (why???). And if you’re making masks primarily for personal use on short trips out, you probably don’t need a filter anyway, though Mueller and Fernandez (2020) found that cotton masks with a filter + a nylon stocking over the top actually approached the protective power of a single-use mask.

Question: What pattern should I use?

If you’re making masks for donation, use whatever pattern is requested. If you’re making them for personal use, or for donation to an org that hasn’t given any guidance, here are some ideas:

New: The Clover Mask is a hybrid of several of the designs below, designed by the MakeMasks.Org Slack. Intermediate difficulty.

Erin’s Mask, based on a design developed by Dr. Chen Xiaoting of Taiwan. Erin tweaked the pattern and converted it to US measurements for those of us allergic to metric. This mask has a pocket for a filter and can be made with either elastic or a fabric tie to secure. Intermediate difficulty.

Cynthia’s Mask does not have a filter pocket and uses twill tape or ribbon for tie-backs. Probably the easiest on the list.

John Hopkins Medicine has also produced a mask pattern pretty much the same as Cynthia’s. So has Kaiser Permanente, which also made a helpful video if you’re not used to making pleats.

The Aries 2.0 Mask is being produced en masse by volunteers in St. Louis, which is where I’m based. It’s more complicated than Cynthia’s mask, and has a filter pocket like Erin’s mask, using curved pieces instead of pleats to achieve a good fit. Intermediate difficulty.

Some additional options, which have been less popular than the above:

The Turban Project Mask has been promoted by Deaconess Medical Center in Evansville, Indiana. It uses elastic and has no filter pocket. Just as easy as Cynthia’s mask, but the ear loop design may be less comfortable and some people have reported shortages of elastic.

The A.B. Mask is designed to be worn over an N95 mask, to extend its lifespan, or by itself. It uses cloth ties. It’s the most complex pattern to sew on this list, with darts and seam binding, but was designed by a nurse.

The Fu Mask from Freesewing uses curved pieces like the Aries mask, but has no filter pocket, which makes me a little more leery of the big center seam.

The Olson Mask has a filter pocket and uses regular hair ties for fasteners.

If you don’t sew at all, this mask can be folded from one sheet of cut cloth. A silky scarf might not be optimal material (see above re: material types) but a cotton bandana or a “fat quarter” of quilting cotton is almost the same size. If you’re using cut fabric, you could just tape or whipstitch the raw edges so it’ll survive the washing machine.

There are a ton of Facebook groups, Discords, etc. with suggestions on how to tweak these masks for best fit or greater comfort. One common hack is putting a length of pip cleaner or floral wire in the upper seam, to help the mask conform around the bridge of your nose. Be cautious when washing a mask with a built-in wire, because it might rust; the Aries 2.0 mask has a sleeve so the wire can be removed for cleaning.

Question: how should I wear/clean a cloth mask?

Depending on the mask, you might secure the mask behind your head or over your ears, either with elastic bands or cloth ties. Make sure you’re breathing primarily though the mask, and not around the sides, even when you turn your head or talk. (This might require some tweaking of your pattern.) This NYT piece has illustrations of how the mask should sit -- over your nose and under your chin, snug to your cheeks on both sides. If you can’t click through, @theexoticvet has posted the images here.

(Note: an N95 mask can’t make a tight seal over facial hair, but a cloth mask doesn’t seal even on a smooth face. So don’t fret about your beard making your cloth mask useless -- just make sure it’s pulled snug all the way around.)

Studies suggest a fabric mask is useful for two hours, max, or until your breath makes it noticeably damp. When you remove the mask, grasp it by the ties, loops or edges. Don’t touch the part that covers your nose or mouth, because that’s where germs have accumulated. If there’s a removable filter inside, wash your hands thoroughly after removing it, and then wash the mask.

Research shows the novel coronavirus can persist ~24 hours on a cardboard surface, but not necessarily how long it survives on/in cloth. Also, leaving a potentially contaminated mask laying around is probably not a good idea. So, to clean your mask:

Hand-wash with hot water and soap, at a minimum.

Boiling the mask for ~10 minutes should kill just about anything, but don’t just drop it in the pot and forget it -- you should keep stirring/agitating the water so it thoroughly penetrates all layers.

Add 1 T (15 ml) of bleach to 1 gallon (3.8 L) of cold water and soak your mask for 15-30 minutes. Then rinse thoroughly with hot water. Over-bleaching will degrade the fabric and make the mask less effective.

If you have access to a washing machine and/or a tumble dryer with a “sanitize” setting, use that. Otherwise use the hottest settings each one has.

If you have to air-dry your mask, make sure it’s completely dry before you use it again.

Question: How can I make masks to donate?

As of 6/1, mask donations are ramping down as the supply chain for both conventional PPE and reusable masks has stabilized. Most people and orgs can now buy reusable masks if they want them. On the other hand, some people can’t afford to buy a mask, so homeless shelters, food pantries and crisis nurseries may still be taking donations. Activist groups planning protests may also be looking for masks to distribute at their events.

Donations are being coordinated on a Make Masks Slack channel, at #MasksNOW, or at RosieSews.org. You can also text “masks” to ResistBot (50409) to find out how to help get PPE to healthcare workers who need it. Also try a Facebook search for “Million Mask Mayday” + your state, as the original Million Mask Mayday site was overwhelmed.

Check one of these spots or contact a local org BEFORE you sew a bunch of stuff, to ensure you’re matching their needs. Just dropping off a bunch of masks off randomly to a group that doesn’t even need them isn’t helping anybody.

If you initiate contact with a facility or org, ask them a) are they taking donations, and b) do they have specific needs regarding size, materials, or construction.

Also ask about whether the masks need to be sanitized before donation (use one of the methods above) and how donations should be delivered in light of social distancing recommendations.

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mermaidsirennikita · 3 years ago

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I just saw Bridgerton got shut down by Covid for the third time. The second season seems kinda cursed already tbh…I don’t understand how the crown and other large scale shows filming in England (the game of thrones prequel too) are not having such issues. Like the crown at least would have to follow the exact same protocol as Bridgerton, surely? At any rate, the rumored March released date looks improbable.

I saw this, yeah--always sucks when things that employ people are shut down due to COVID. Some of this, I imagine, is due to the luck of the draw... But at the same time, there has to be something that someone is dropping the ball on for this to happen so often compared to other shows--unless infections aren't being reported for those other shows, which is also possible.

I wonder if they'll go for a split release--4 and 4, or something like that. Just to whet people's appetites, the way Euphoria has (for example). It's long time to wait after a big first season. Evidently the first couple of episodes are in the editing room, so who knows?

#bridgerton

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tears-and-lilies · 4 years ago

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Turns out writing random drabbles was a very good idea :) I’m only going to post this one, but just. oof.

We go back to the civil war to follow Mirifen.

I’ve been debating on whether or not to add the taglist, but I figured it wouldn’t do any harm.

Tag: @whumpfigure @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @green-eyed-whumpster @liliability @untilthepainstarts @unicornscotty

CW: death of POV character, aftermath of battle, war, blood, gore, cut, stabbing, flashbacks, PTSD, almost losing consciousness, parental favoritism, mention of bad childhood, neck impalement

***

It was over. They lost. Mirifen took off his helmet and tossed it aside. He had led his horse back to the woods, but somewhere on the way, it had been wounded. Now he was out of breath, out of horse, and out of hope. But at least he had reached the woods.

A messenger, he thought. He needed to let his father know about the loss. He needed to let him know he failed, and he left his men to defend themselves. A detailed report containing the proceedings of the battle. “Dear father, as planned, I took on the battle against Loui’s troops…”

Why was he crying? Frustrated, he wiped away the tears from his face, covering it with dirt and blood. He stared at his fingers, shaking. There was no time for this. ‘Just stop’, he said aloud.

He entered the forest, walking between the trees. It was the safest way to reach the fort they had taken over. A ring in his ears began, and grew louder and louder. He moved faster. Stop. He recognised it, the screams of the men who died. He’d seen them lose their limbs, he’d seen them slip in the dirt and blood, he’d seen guts spread around as if it was nothing.

‘Stop!’, he yelled, and covered his ears. It’s not real. ‘It’s my fault, it’s my fault, it’s my fault-’

His foot got caught on a root, and he fell. He grunted. I can’t even walk properly. With a jerk he sat up, clenching his hands into fits and slamming them on the earth of the forest.

‘No, no, no, no, NO!’ He’s been so stupid. How in the world could he tell his father this?! The man already hated him. He had only let him down more.

He hadn’t realised he had started crying, until he noticed droplets falling on his fists. Stupid. He sniffed and got up. I should continue, I need to make the report, and then prepare our next move…

The sound of a branch snapping made him tense. He turned around.

‘Hello, Mirifen’, Loui said.

‘H-how…?’

‘I wanted to face you, but saw you flee the battle field. I cautiously followed, and let you have your little meltdown. But now that you’re done, maybe it’s about time we ended this.’ He raised his sword.

Mirifen took a few steps back, looking around to estimate his chances in running away. He may be exhausted, but he was a lot younger then Loui, so theoretically he could run faster. But the chances of tripping or accidentally getting stuck in tree branches were too high. On the other hand, he could fight. I shouldn’t have thrown away my helmet, that gives me a disadvantage. Plus, Loui was way more experienced with a sword than he was. All too often his father had made it clear that he was the lesser swordfighter between him and his brothers. Even Glorien outshined him, and he was only seventeen.

That didn’t leave many options. Most important now was to sound fearless, so Loui didn’t expect to kill him easily. He clutched his hand around the handle of his sword and said: ‘I-I-I…’ He gulped. ‘I don’t want to fi-ight.’ He wanted to kick himself.

Loui grinned. ‘Fine. If you’re going to surrender, I can kill you here and now.’

He reconsidered for a moment, then bolted. He ran as fast as he could, trying not to look over his shoulders. He jumped over fallen trees, duck for low-hanging branches, all to get to the fort.

He never liked running. The sting in his sides rose too fast, too quickly. The wheezing burned his lungs.

The swish of a sword passed his ear. He clutched his arm from a sudden pain, but realised his hand was drenched in blood. Next, the inevitable happened and he fell to the ground, and everything went black.

…

I’ll get dirt in my wound. It’ll get infected. I have to close the wound.

…

I have to get up. Run.

…

A new pain made his side throb. More blood, just below his breast plate. Slowly, his vision returned. He scrambled onto his knees, but it hurt. He groaned. He wasn’t dead.

‘Listen, Mirifen’, the voice from behind him said. A foot on his back, the cold tip of a sword pressed against the back of his neck.

‘You were always the smarter kid of your Darren’s, so tell me. You can’t possibly support his ideas, right?’

Mirifen let a sob escape his lips. He gasped: ‘I don’t… I don’t know. What you’re talking about.’ He had to find a way out of this. But he couldn’t think. His head resembled the battlefield he had left behind. And he wanted it to stop.

Loui sighed. ‘The bond between you and your father isn’t great, so I assume you aren’t brainwashed by him like the rest. You can still see what he’s actually doing. I know you can.’

Think. Think. No, get rid of the mess. What do I know? He always knew so much. Why was there nothing? He sobbed again. ‘No… He’s trying…’, his voice faltered.

Think. Owls can turn their heads 270 degrees. Irrelevant. The femur is the strongest bone in the body. Won’t help me now. Who am I? Mirifen, son of Darren. I’m 24 years old. Most of our fears are learned. Babies barely know any fear. Fears are shaped by our experiences.

I’m afraid- I’m afraid I’ll disappoint father. So is Felicen, so is Glorien. We walk on eggshells. Every day, he notices small things to preach us about. It’s an almost constant nagging, more so since mother died. He only loves us if we’re perfect. He pushes us to extremes, because we wouldn’t want to disappoint him. That’s why I’m here. That’s why I’m scared.

‘He’s trying to take the throne, just to quench his thirst for power. For glory. For fuck’s sake, that man is deluded, and yet he still has supporters’, Loui said.

If I return to the fort, and sent a messenger to tell about my failure, I’d disappoint him. He won’t ever forgive me. He won’t ever love me.

‘But you have so much potential. You’re better than this. Come on, Mirifen. Help us defeat him. You know his plans, you know how he thinks. You can save Koia.’

‘No.’ He didn’t even hesitate. If I turn against him, he’d be disappointed. I won’t ever be forgiven. I won’t ever be loved. He couldn’t stop shaking. He couldn’t even clear the mess in his head.

‘Too bad’, Loui sighed. ‘Such a wasted opportunity.’

Mirifen stared in surprise at the bloody blade that stuck out from his neck. He couldn’t breathe.

#whump #medieval whump #royal whump #character death #war tw #bood tw #gore #cutting #stabbing #flashbacks tw #ptsd whumpee #losing consciousness #parental favoritism #nech impalement #impalement #rip my uploading schedule you will be missed

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mammoney-honey · 5 years ago

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Humans favored by the 7 brothers

So early in the game we were introduced to the idea by Satan that humans that Mammon favored found themselves suddenly awash in riches. So running with this idea what do the other Lords of Hell favor look like?

Warning: slight mention of abuse/assault

Lucifer

As Avatar of Pride its hard for him to feel a strong connection to any human. His personality just simply wont allow it but every few centuries a human comes along that captures his attention

This human is usually actually pointed out by either his brothers or by Barbatos, they are interested to see how things will play out

Those who he grants his favor find themselves with influence over others. They have always been able to debate people until they see their way, their pride lets them believe they are always right, but its becoming much easier

Now it doesn’t even require much of a fight, just the suggestion that their own way is the right way is enough to get people to sway. As long as the favored believes what they say is true, other humans will be more easily led to believe them

It doesn’t impose their will onto others, that would be more about power than pride, and to most it just makes them seem like the most confident person they have ever met

Mammon

He is the brother who clearly ends up interacting with humans the most currently. He gets summoned by witches a lot, because humans are greedy and they have heard what he can bring to those he favors

But he doesn’t actually like or favor these witches. Summoning him or making a pact doesn’t mean that he grants them his favor

No he would much prefer to grant that to those who may not be looking for it. He likes humans who work for what they want and not demand what they want this doesnt apply to him because he deserves to be rick quick lmao

As mentioned above those that he favors find themselves surrounded with riches. Money comes easy to them but it doesn’t magically appear

Rather opportunities present themselves to his favored for them to take but they have to be willing to take the chance, they have to act greedy and go get what they want

Its not always money either, it could be whatever it is they want, whatever they want most and what drives their greed

Mammon tries to get close to whoever he favors too because he is very ready to take advantage of whatever comes their way lmao

Levi

He is a tricky one because most people don’t like feeling envy, it eats them up and makes them feel pretty bad. Its an abundant feeling in humans, which is why he is so powerful, but not one that most like feeling unlike some of the others

His favored are actually those who usually don’t have anything. Levi actually doesn’t care much for those who have everything and still want more because he actually gets jealous of them because they have so much cool stuff, not fair!

He finds those that have a righteous anger at what they don’t have, those who have nothing and envy those that have so much and care nothing for it

He grants them his favor so that they can start to get what they want but also so he can get his own revenge on people that he is envious of

When he grants someone his favor rather than making them more jealous of others he makes it so that is favored becomes someone that others envy

He sets them up for success, to give them everything they want and then everything the object of his envy wishes they had

He likes his chosen humans but it had less to do with them and more to do with the object of his revenge

Secretly likes that he gets to help people but would never admit it

Satan

Anger was another one of those things that some people hated feeling but unlike envy it was something that some people loved to feel. There were those that based their entire personality around their anger

Those people gave him his power, their anger letting him climb the ranks of his brothers, but he hates them

He was born from anger and its never been something that he enjoyed. He feels condemned by his anger, a horrible gift from Lucifer that he cant escape

So if someone is full of nothing but anger he doesnt see why he has to favor them, they seem to be doing just fine and its not like they can help him in anyway

Instead, like Levi, he turns to those that actually needs a bit of his sin. Humans who have a right to be angry and yet for what ever reason can not voice it or give in

So when he grants them his favor he gives them power. He allows them to for perhaps the first time know that anger can be helpful, to see that they don’t have to take abuse lying down

He grants his favor to those who have never asked for it, giving them the gift he hates so that they can do some good with it

His favor not only allows them to feel anger but it also allows them to know how to act on it. It grants them the knowledge they need to execute their anger and bring down those who have earned it with a fierce precision

It gives those with his favor a new confidence and he loves to watch those who deserve to be knocked down by those they have hurt

Asmo

Everyone thinks that he would be as free with giving away his favor as he is with well ... everything else about him but hes actually the brother who has chosen the least amount of humans

Its not that he thinks that was he has to offer is particularly precious (though of course he thinks that his gifts are the most important) its just that he usually doesn’t come across many humans he thinks need or deserve it

Its mostly because those that he interacts with already seem to have plenty of lust so why do they need more than his usual charm to help them out?

Every so often though he will come across someone who is lusting after him but there will be something else there too, hurt and sadness and pain that fuels their lust rather than actually wanting him. Its already a tragedy to him to have the honor of sleeping with him and not be enjoying it but he knows that another tragedy must have happened to leave them that way

He can feel the scars left on others left from lust gone horribly wrong. Sometimes when that happens it makes people give into the sin fully, thinking that if they sleep with just one more person they will forget the person who took their joy away. Asmo has no use for people who take what should be given with consent

It makes him see red, his rose tinted glasses gone as soon as he recognizes this sort of pain. He doesn’t give any more thought into bestowing his favor, no meticulous planning like some of his brothers, he just gives it

So perhaps he is more free in giving it away, in his own way

The favor he grants in control of lust. His favored humans can control who lusts for them, can make them lust for them or take away that lust. Never again will they have to worry about if they will have this choice, the control is always there

They are also more in control of their own body. It lets them consciously know why they are lusting after someone. Asmo may seem like he just sleeps with whoever offers but he always knows the reason he likes them and gives his favored humans the same knowledge. No more lust just to hide the pain, it should always be about the pleasure first

It also rolls over a bit into their looks, when his favored are feeling confident they are simply radiant with it. They will never have another bad hair or skin day again

Overall Asmo hates to see people in pain, at least pain that they didn’t want, and believes in the power of control and consent. He couldn’t stand those who corrupted what he was about. He was supposed to do the corrupting, not the other way around

Beel

He has a soft spot for humans, always has, but after Lilith passing and Belphie becoming so hateful towards them he felt he had to make up for that

He doesn’t visit the human world much, it makes him sad, but any time a human comes up on his radar from reports from demons of gluttony he takes a look

Those that stand out to him aren’t the ones who, ironically, don’t over indulge in his sin. Its more about those that see they are gluttonous and allow themselves to be at times

Its always about food. Those who cook large feasts for their families or communities before letting themselves gorge on their hard work but also letting everyone else have as much as they need. More than they need

When asked about it he says that its because they humans induce gluttony in others, spreading it making up for the fact that they werent a glutton 24/7

Really its because he sees that the human makes others happy and he very much wants to have some of that food himself

His favor is pretty basic, when granted his favored human will never be without. Food and drink will always be plentiful in any way it can be for the situation

Sometimes that means that they get a job that gives them access to their favorite foods and sometimes its finding the exact ingredients they need for their meals even when its usually hard to find

When his favored sees someone else have food that they want that person also feels a sudden need to share or just give it completely to them

He has granted his favor the most

Belphie

Belphie has never given his favor to a human before. No one was worthy of anything from him. Sure it wasn’t entirely a good thing, infecting humans with sin, but it also benefited the humans until they came to hell for being such a conductor of sin

That is until MC came into his life and he started to realize that humans weren’t the cause of his pain

The first human he ever granted his favor was of course MC, more followed over the years with a bit of help from MC who helped him pick a few

His criteria isn’t as complex as his brothers, he thinks the less he knows about the human the better, so he just picks some people who like to nap as much as he does

When he grants his favor when the human sleeps they will always awaken refreshed, it is always a good nights sleep. The down side to that is that it usually makes them want to go back to sleep as soon as possible since its always so nice

They also become a master of lucid dreaming, completely able to control their own dreams. They can actually astral project with a bit of practice

They can also manipulate the dreams of others, not as powerfully and fully as Belphie can, but they can plant the idea of a dream with just a bit of intent

#obey me #obey me hc #obey me fic #obey me fanfic #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie

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theraptorcage · 5 years ago

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What to do if you see a Spotted Lanternfly and it’s squishing them to bits

As many of you may know I am an envrionmental scientist and end up traveling all over PA/OH/WV for my job. I’ve only recently seen Spotted Lanternfly in the wild at work sites and at my hotel just...chillin’. And I hate them. And you should too.

They’re a species of insect that’s native to China, Vietnam, and India that was accidentally introduced to the US via (probably) a quarried stone shipment from China to my home county of Berks (PA) back in 2012. As of 2019 they’ve been reported in Delaware, New York, Maryland, Viginia, New Jersey, and Connecticut which is not great. They can cause a lot of damage to trees, agricultural crops, and other wild plants, from foliage wilting to dieback to plant death. They also produce a sugary fluid called Honeydew that promotes the growth of sooty mold which can lead to decrease in air quality in areas with high population density of these horrid little bugs.

And okay maybe they don’t deserve to be actually hated, they’re pretty and they’re just doing what good bugs do when they get to an environment where they don’t have many natural predators.

But it’s our responsibility to prevent them from becoming even more of a problem. If you live in any of these states that are impacted it’s important to keep an eye out for them.

Spotted Lanterfly come in a variety of flavors including disgusting, but cleverly disguised egg cases, creepy nymphs, and the gloriously fat adults.

What should you do if you encounter them?

Squish them. To bits. I’ve killed at least a dozen of these little bastards in the two days I’ve been on this side of the state. You should consider getting sticky plant wraps which aren’t like the best if there are high population density, but can be really useful for gauging how much of a problem you have on your hands.

You should also notify your state’s department of agriculture. If they’ve already had reports they’ll have a designated site where you can report when and where you found them.

Also, for those who don’t live in the neighboring states you should also look into SLFs because the suggestions for controlling their spread is WILD. Researchers recently found that two native species of fungus can and will happily infect and kill adults, nymphs, and egg cases.

Also also, there is this lunatic from California that suggests using a PARASITIC WASP to control them: “The California Department of Food and Agriculture recently granted Mark Hoddle, Director of the Center for Invasive Species Research at University of California, Riverside, $544,000 to test whether a tiny parasitic wasp, also originally from China, could be the solution to the looming problem of a spotted lanternfly invasion. Hoddle explained that the wasp has a needle-like appendage it uses to lay its own eggs inside the lantern fly’s eggs. While developing, the wasp larvae eat and kill their hosts, and then emerge after chewing escape holes through the lanternfly eggs.”

Which is a different level of horrifying for me. It would be super fucking rad, but horrifying.

So anyway! Keep an eye out, be responsible, and you should use this as an opportunity to get outside more often in the name of environmental protection!

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tartagilicious · 5 years ago

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Victor - Coming Home (translated date)

Here’s another translated date, requested by @shimizusora! This time, here’s the card beforehand, as I couldn’t find the separate versions to place when they appear ^^

spoilers for a date not released in EN server beneath the cut~

The meeting has lasted for almost 3 hours, and everyone is waiting for Victor’s final decision. In addition to dignity and fatigue, his expression also showed a trace of annoyance: before he came, he did not expect the situation to be so heavy!

Earlier, when it acquired shares in the SE online video platform, LFG issued a circular to the public saying that this was an important and strategic move for LFG to sweep the overseas film and television market.

In just two years, SE was in debt due to a bad project, and the capitol chain was broken several times -- all accounting for a debt totaling 10 billion…

Many insiders in the industry secretly insulted Victor and took a few days to turn a blind eye; after all, this incident was only passable as a joke for the wine table to them. The people of LFG’s public relations department exhausted all available media resources to suppress the negative rumours of this matter as much as possible. Fortunately, the news did not end up flowing out.

Only this time, LFG did lose.

Everyone at the meeting exchanged glances. The president had not closed his eyes for two days -- from his plane landing to now. He had spent a lot of time looking at the report documents, and sometimes the project information. He even tended to sit alone in the meeting room for several hours.

No one dared to step forward and say something, even the question of a cup of coffee seeming threatening.

It wasn’t until everyone came to the meeting room three hours ago that they found the dinner they had sent was still tucked in the corner they had left it.

Goldman: President, the most difficult problem is in the long return period of the project. SE now also has stable advertising revenue and a large amount of copyright resources, which we can fully leverage on their acquisition, wholly owned. (t/n: big words. He’s basically saying that with the deal, LFG can buy the aforementioned things and get complete ownership of them.)

Goldman: With LFG’s resources involved, these batches of information may not be able to go online smoothly, and there will be a turn around.

Victor: There’s no need for this.

Victor closed the folder in his hand and raised his eyes across the conference table.

Victor: Talk about prices with a few funds, don’t make a habit of stepping deeper and deeper.

The lengthy meeting ended at this moment.

When Victor returned to the hotel, the number of unread messages accumulated on his mobile phone exceeded one hundred again. He didn’t pay attention to this information, though, just clicking a single number from the countless list of tips.

Unsurprisingly, it was all nonsense gossip, accompanied by small expressions of different styles.

Victor loosened his tie and read them one by one from top to bottom.

“I made an improved egg omelet for dinner, would you like to try it?”

“What’s Goldman’s circle of friends talking about? I know you’re probably irritated and tired, but I hope the meeting still goes smoothly!”

“Remember to eat…”

“Also remember to sleep!”

Victor’s motion stopped after that line, and soft emotions flooded his eyes.

“The internet celebrity lawyer I told you about last time agreed to my interview invitation, so I have to hurry up and plan the case for this Saturday. Do you want to come supervise the work?”

Victor opened the dialogue box and typed a single ‘good’, and immediately received a cat with a smiling expression. But, he raised his eyebrows slightly when thinking about the time in China.

I sat up in bed and was preparing to have a long discussion about the weekend schedule, but my phone in my hand suddenly rang and shocked me.

Victor [over the phone]: did you sleep or stay up?

MC: haha….

Victor: Why are you laughing?

MC: Because I feel like that’s often asked by me, but now you’re the one asking…

Victor: It’s only 5 o’clock here, but there..

I understood what he meant.

MC: I wanted to wait for your reply and couldn’t sleep well, ok…..

I rolled over in bed and changed to a more comfortable position and held the phone against my ear.

MC: What projects have you been busy with this time? Is it going well?

Victor: Smoothly. But, you should go back to sleep again before it’s too early.

MC: ...I’m not too sleepy. You told me before, but will you still come back Thursday?

Victor: Before Saturday.

MC, sadly: Today is only Tuesday, and today’s sun isn’t even out.

I heard Victor laugh seemingly indiscriminately, and I noticed a little laziness in his low voice.

Victor, softly and groggily: Is it too late?

MC: Don’t you dare, as long as it’s not for something important, postpone your return. But, even if it’s necessary for work, you still have to say one thing, you have to promise me:

A slow sigh fell to my ears, revealing faint fatigue.

Victor: Go on.

MC: You can’t stop eating or sleeping.

The other side of the phone was silent for a few seconds.

Victor, humming: Then, I promise you.

The misty light of Loveland was reflected faintly on the curtains, and in the moments of silence, I closed my eyes to feel the frequency of every breath from him.

MC: ...It has been raining in Paris these past few days.

Victor: It’s the season.

MC: The meetings… Are they cold?

Victor: Not badly.

My consciousness became uncontrollably deeper, but I could still clearly capture his voice from within the grotesque dream.

Victor, sweetly: Sleep if you’re tired. I’ll hang up now.

MC: ..No… I’m not sleepy… Don’t go.

Victor: Your words are slurred but you still refuse to sleep?

MC: …

I can wake up in five seconds.

I hummed gently, not sure if I actually said this.

Soon, Victor’s long and heavy breathing was close to my ears, very close, making me feel calm and almost as if I was next to him.

Victor: Sleeping?

MC: ….

Victor: Go to bed.

Victor: ….

Victor: Sleep peacefully.

On Saturday afternoon, I looked up at the wall clock for the nth time. Until the hour hand reached the number 3, I couldn’t help but call Victor. But after waiting, the robotic voice reminding me that the other party could not be contacted sounded. The doorbell rang before I could react.

Victor, who was standing outside the door, was putting his phone back in his pocket the moment I opened it. I looked hesitantly at his empty hands.

MC: Your luggage…

Victor: I let Goldman take it back, and I’ll go to LFG tonight.

With that said, he entered the door and walked to my bedroom after changing his shoes at the entrance.

Victor: What have you been doing these past two days?

He walked over to the coffee table, and carefully picked up the interview outline that I had been writing all morning. A corner of his lips raised with a single glance.

Victor, teasingly: You said that you worked hard for several days, and listed a few outlines.

MC: Don’t underestimate me, I have read a lot of information in the past few days, see--

I pointed to a pile of hot social cases and legal books on the ground to show Victor.

MC: I did not sharpen the woodworker by mistake. And I’m also very self-knowledged, aren’t I, supervisor?

I busied myself and dragged a chair to the coffee table, and took a medium-sized pillow and placed it on the back of it.

MC: You sit.

MC: I guarantee that from this second, I will devote myself to planning, and I will surely have the first version of the results before the sun goes down.

Victor couldn’t help but laugh, hang his coat up by the door, and pull out the chair. Just sitting down, I remembered what it seemed like, and sighed slightly.

Victor: Let me borrow your computer.

I handed the laptop to Victor, and a thought flashed through me. How could he come here without a computer?

MC: Victor Li, when were you infected with my bad habit of losing everything?

Victor: Only once. I put in the backseat of my car and forgot to bring it down.

Victor avoided my gaze, and opened the LFG website without changing his expression, and approved the documents.

Victor: The sun will go down in two hours.

MC: Maybe the sun won’t want to go home today. (t/n: maybe the sun will stay up a bit longer and she’ll get to work on her report longer)

I sat back in my position and looked at Victor from across the table with a hand under my chin. The light golden slightly projected from the window slowly enveloped Victor. The quiet and warm light was also calmed by his smooth wooden fragrance, which was very comfortable.

Victor didn’t speak, and tapped his fingers one by one, so in the quiet room, even the sound of our breathing was quietly amplified.

Not knowing how long I had taken, he finally raised his eyes to meet mine.

Victor: Will staring at me finish the planning case?

MC: I’m not staring at you, but conceiving a plan in my heart.

As soon as my voice fell, a short ‘ding’ sounded.

MC: Wait for me~

I ran out of the room and to the kitchen, taking out the fragrant cookie from the oven. I put it down carefully to cool, and took it back with two hot drinks.

MC: Afternoon tea time!

Victor took care of his cup, the steam rising up to slightly warm his eyebrows. The milk in his glass was a light temperature, and the similarly warm scent of the cookies melted into the room.

MC: Your dark circles are so heavy, didn’t you at least drink coffee while you were away?

Victor: I’m fine.

I thought Victor didn’t mean to drink the milk, but when the words left his mouth, he still picked up the glass. After watching, I pushed the dish with cookies in front of him again.

MC: Take a look at my new designs. Cute, huh?

I pointed to the painted kittens with different expressions on the cookies to show Victor.

MC: This one is yawning, this one is surprised, this one is asleep, but I like this one the most--

MC: It looks really angry, so I named it “flaming”.

Victor glanced in the direction of my finger.

Victor: It looks like you.

MC: Is that so?

I let air fill my cheeks, trying to look like the cat on the cookie, and raised my face to look at Victor. He didn’t react, and his eyes that were connected with mine were full of silence. I just smiled and picked up “buffoon” and brought it to his lips. (t/n: “buffoon” as in another named cookie)

MC: Can you try it?

Victor took a bite of the cookie in my hands and looked back at the computer.

MC: Would you like to comment?

His lips were pulled into a weak line, and I couldn’t tell if he was smiling or not. Then, he moved a little closer and ate the remaining half of “buffoon” in my hand. Warm lips briefly rubbed my fingertips, leaving a soft warmth in its wake. A fluffy, sweet, happiness suddenly bloomed in my heart.

I patted away the crumbs on my finger with satisfaction and picked up the pen again. The smooth tip made a rustling sound on the paper, and I wrote it down with the same strokes of the previous outline.

But today’s weather is so nice….

The sky is a clean blue, the clouds a lazy white, and the room is full of rich and warm fragrance. I turned away absently, quietly looking to Victor. The sense sunlight was reflected in his dark pupils, refracting the invisible layers of his thoughts into a glorious glow.

He doesn’t have any emotion when he works, and his expression is always calm. But the appearance of deep concentration in his eyes is not the same as usual.

To say what’s different….. It’s probably even more eye-catching.

Victor: It’s only been a few minutes, and how many times have you lost your concentration?

I quickly returned my eyes and scribbled onto the paper, pretending to be like a good student who was caught by the teacher during a lesson. But, my ideas were not connecting, and nothing could be written, so I opted to draw a little heart on the upper right corner of the white paper instead.

I noticed that Victor was still focused, so I kept drawing this little heart, adding a tilde to its tail. But after a short pause, I sighed and raised my eyes slightly.

Victor sighed.

MC, flushed: ..I can’t help it.

Victor: And what can’t you help?

MC: I can’t help but look at you.

I folded my arms and changed to a more comfortable position on the table, tilting my head and looking at Victor. He chuckled almost inaudibly and was about to speak, then a familiar ringtone came from his pocket.

After seeing Victor answer the phone, all the messy thoughts in my head disappeared in one evil stroke, secretly lost.

Victor: the time now is…..

Victor looked at the bottom right corner of the computer during his speech, paused for a moment, and then quickly looked back to the mobile phone.

Victor: It’s 4:30 right now, so let them reply to me by 8pm.

He hung up the phone in a concise manner, and I asked a little hesitantly,

MC: Are you…. Going back to LFG now?

Victor: Don’t worry, I won’t go.

Victor said this, muting the volume of his phone and sliding it to the corner of the table. Facing my doubtful eyes, there was a trace of helplessness in his calm eyes.

Victor: Your computer is in Paris’s time.

I didn’t understand the random topic for a moment, but nodded subconsciously.

MC: Well, it’s more convenient to look at the time like this.

Victor didn’t speak, and glanced at the computer again. At this time, the system pushed out the weather forecast for the next 5 days in Paris -- a continuous rain every day. He smiled lightly and closed the computer slowly.

Victor: ...it’s all getting stupidly convenient.

MC: Yes, yes, taking care of a fool like me really makes the president troubled…

I deliberately stopped talking there, and couldn’t help laughing with Victor as I got up and picked up the two empty glasses.

MC: I’m going to go wash the cups, do you want anything else to eat?

Victor: No need. Do you think I’m you?

I groaned, irritated, and turned my head towards the kitchen.

I originally thought it would take less than a few minutes to wash the cups, but after I cleaned them and cleaned all the tools I used for baking before, a half an hour had passed.

When I came back, Victor was already lying on the bed, still holding my unfinished outline. I walked past him quietly, and whispered near his ear.

MC: Victor, are you asleep?

Victor didn’t answer me, only taking a shallow breath that made his twilight-coloured eyelashes tremble.

MC: Are you really asleep or pretending to sleep?

I climbed onto the bed, approaching him little by little.

MC: ...Victor?

I called him again softly, but he still did not stir. Only the corner of lips raised, into a badly hidden smile.

MC: You didn’t fall asleep!

I laid my arm on the bed and picked up a few strands of his hair. Looking down at his smoother and sharper jawline, my fingertips unconsciously rubbed against the tips of his hair.

MC, whispering: ...Have you been tired recently?

Victor, with his eyes still closed: No.

In his words, there is obviously fatigue. I don’t know if he has rested in these past few days, and the possibility of him fainting after a bit of relaxation crosses my mind.

MC: Didn’t you read the outline of my interview? How does it look?

Victor: I see what you’re written.

I thought of the heart with the small tail, and was suddenly caught speechless.

Victor: You deliberately brought this to your supervisor, but in the time I’ve been here, you wrote so few lines?

MC: Yeah, I guess you should go overseas more often, then. When you are near, the efficiency of my work plummets!

I reached out and pulled away the notebook in his hands, and covered him with a blanket. Victor turned his face and looked at me for a moment with his eyes half open. I rarely saw his tired eyes, but felt that all the emotions in my heart were softened a hundred times by him in that moment.

MC: Still want to go to LFG after a while? I’ll wake you up at 7:30.

With Victor’s degree of rigor in scheduling, this time, he temporarily canceled several important meetings and later flew to Paris while delaying the return time twice. He had already said that it would be before Saturday, but suddenly, it was changed to Saturday…..

It’s not very difficult, it won’t be like that. He’s also very stubborn in insisting he’s not tired.

I put my index fingers on his temples and slowly massaged circles into them. After a moment, a flirty smile overflowed from his lips.

Victor, laughing: …..

Victor pulled my right hand and wrapped my fingers into his palm, and moved me closer to him wordlessly. The close distance has our breaths mixing, and I can’t help but lean down to press my lips to the corner of his forehead. In the silence, all I could hear was our heartbeats and breaths, slowly accelerating together.

Victor, softly: Do not worry about me. I’d never let a fool worry.

MC: Ok, I know…

I responded softly to him, but I couldn’t hide my calm smile.

MC: ...I just can’t help it.

I can’t help worrying about you, whether you’re hungry, cold, or tired. I can’t help but want to see you whether you are in front of me or not. I can’t help but smile, only because of your figure in my mind.

I looked out at the clouds stretching out of the window, spreading out a large dim twilight, the stars looming, the golden sunset and the quiet night meeting at the end of the sky.

The sun is going down.

MC: Victor, I did not finish the interview before the sun set. Will you punish me?

Victor: ….

The only response to me is his even and steady breathing. I looked down at his sleeping face. This familiar face became thinner in just a few measly days. I reached out and stroked his cheek gently. But, still afraid of waking him, I just watched quietly.

MC: Go to bed.

MC: …..

MC: Sleep peacefully.

#mr love queen’s choice #mlqc #mr love #mr love queen’s choice victor #mr love victor #love and producer #恋与制作人 #李泽言 #恋与制作人李泽言 #mr love date #mlqc date #mr love queen’s choice date #mldd #mr love dream date #hes so cute 🥺🥺🥺🥺

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p-artsypants · 4 years ago

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Arcadia or Bust (16) Corner of Main and State

"Yeah, so mom…we made it to New Jersey, and we're all safe...but the Heartstone isn't really...impressive. So, we're bringing what we found home. See you soon!" In Which Arcadia welcomes back it's underground citizens, Jim gets used to mundane life as a Troll, and drama seeks them all out like a magnet.

Ao3 | FF.net

I’m rewatching Trollhunters, because it’s been like a year since I watched it, and the more I listen, the less the plot of Wizards makes sense to me. Don’t get me wrong, I loved it, but there’s some lore and continuity issues. That being said, I’ll continue to write this story using Trollhunter’s lore primarily, with a sprinkle of Wizards and 3Below lore as I see fit. :)

—

Jim had been through a lot of trauma in his life. At least since becoming the Trollhunter. But nothing was as jarring as looking down to his chest and seeing his ribcage, muscles, and heart beating.

They had taken the amulet from where it was nestled, and in return, left the gaping hole wide open, oozing with blood, and exposed. Could trolls get infections? Because humans certainly could, and this was just asking for infection.

He had been lying here alone for a few hours now. It was hard to tell exactly how long in the vast passage of time while drenched in pain.

When Colonel Kubritz appeared at his side, he wasn’t even surprised. Had he fallen asleep?

“How do you get this to work?” She bit. In her hand, she held the cleaned amulet, and it glowed, aching to be back with him.

“You can’t. You have to be chosen by it. Even if I die, it will pick someone else. And it might not be you.”

She slapped him for that, but it looked like it hurt her more than him, by the wince on her face. “Don’t give me that crap. Tell me how to work it!”

“Just speak the incantation inscribed.”

“We already tried that.”

He shrugged. “That’s all it is.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Teach me to use it, and I’ll let you go home.”

Jim sighed. It was pointless, but he may as well try.

—

Claire rang the doorbell at the designated house.

A surly man opened the door. “Yeah? What do you want? No solicitors! Unless you’re a girl scout…no, you’re too old. Are you with the tamale lady?”

“Hello sir, I’m not here to sell anything, I actually came to ask about the car you had totaled a few days ago.”

“Are you here to hunt down that devil that flipped my baby?!” He gestured to the smashed in car in the driveway. It looked drivable, but one bump away from death.

“Not quite...I’m actually here to fix it.”

“Fix it? You want to fix that? My mechanic couldn’t even fix it! And you want to! What are you, 15?”

“17, actually.”

“I doubt you have the experience for this, little lady.”

“Oh, I’m not a mechanic, I’m a sorceress.”

“A what now?”

“Sorceress, a witch! Do I have permission to fix your truck?”

“Girlie, if you can fix my truck, I’ll owe you a huge favor.”

“I was hoping you’d say that!” With a little skip, Claire went over to the truck and rested her hands on the hood. “Ad initium redire...” Her hands glowed purple, and pulsed against the metal, making it groan. Then it began to twist and crunch, popping out dents and welding pieces back together.

The old man stood in shock as his beloved truck knit back together, and when she was done, it was in perfect condition.

“How did—where did you—?!” He rounded the car, circling it like a vulture. “It’s perfect! You even took out that bump from years ago! You’re a miracle worker, girlie!”

Claire fell on her butt on the driveway, dizzy and winded. “Glad to help.”

“You alright?”

“Just a little winded. I’m still getting used to using magic, especially without a staff. It’s exhausting.”

“Well why don’t you take a seat up on the porch instead of the road? I’ll get you a beer.”

“I’m seventeen.”

“You’ve earned it!”

Claire chuckled to herself and climbed to her feet. She followed the man up his steps and took a seat on the porch swing while he went inside.

Only a minute later, he returned with beers in hand. “Here you are darlin’. Summertime ale. I’m partial to dark ale myself, but my neighbor got me this pale ale. It’s pretty good! You have a favorite?”

Claire took a sip and tried to hide the grimace. “I don’t really get to drink very often, unless it’s a special occasion.”

“Right right, we’ll keep it our little secret. Now then, I owe you a favor. You just saved me a whole chunk of change and a basket of anxiety. You must have something in mind since you offered?” He suddenly sat up straight. “Oh god, you don’t want my soul do you?”

Claire snorted. “No no, you can keep your soul! Don’t know what I would do with it anyways...You know the boy that damaged your truck in the first place?”

“I only saw a glimpse of him, that blue devil? What about him?”

“He’s actually my boyfriend, and he’s really very sweet and usually not like this. But he was...fed something he shouldn’t have had and it made him go berserk.”

“Crying shame.”

“I’ll say! So the army came in and took him away! They wouldn’t listen to us at all!”

“So what do you want me to do about it?”

“We are going to run a campaign to get him out. Hopefully, if we get enough attention on the issue, they’ll let him go.”

“Oh, I gotcha.”

“So if you could just...spread the truth around town? He’s actually the one that stopped that troll invasion back at the beginning of summer.”

The man looked surprised at that. “No kidding, that was him? Well, he’s a local hero! He’s been talked about a lot since then! Sure I’ll set the record straight! What’s this kid’s name?”

“Jim Lake Jr.”

“Got it! Don’t worry, I’ll bring it up at the lodge, and the rotary, and the chess club...”

—

The phone was ringing, he had been successfully patched through. Strickler sat in his office after hours, wanting to make the call as private as possible.

“Stricklander, I haven’t heard from you since the fall of the Janus order. What reason have you called on me?”

“Can’t I just call an old friend to catch up?”

“You? No.”

Walt cracked a smile. “Fine. I need a favor.”

“Changeling to changeling, or school principal to army general?”

“The latter, actually.”

The man on the other line laughed. “Color me intrigued.”

“You know of the human Trollhunter, correct?”

“Just what you wrote in your dossier, a human male, 16 years old, lives in Arcadia Oaks, California, turned half-troll by the wizard Merlin. Responsible for the death of Bular and Gunmar. Quite a remarkable young soul. Is there anything else to know?”

“He’s been captured by the United States Army.”

The man let out half a chuckle. “Captured? What dumb trouble did he get into?”

“His deadbeat father left out some cocaine for the boy to find, he thought it was trash, and ate it.”

Distantly on the other line, there was laughter, a strong bark of laughter that lasted far too long. When he came back, he was calm. “How unfortunate.”

“He’s a good kid. Why would there be a kilogram of cocaine in the trash anyways? I fail to see the humor in the situation.”

“Of course. So, I assume, he went on a rampage following his meal, and then attracted the attention of some of us?”

“So you haven’t heard about it?”

“Not where I’m stationed. But give me a moment.” The line went silent, only a very distant and quiet tapping of keys on a keyboard being tapped. Then the man returned. “I’m glad you told me about this. This incident hasn’t been reported to our database. That shows evidence of misconduct. Did you get the name of the commanding officer responsible, by chance?”

“Colonel Kubritz, I believe.”

More typing. “Area 49-B.”

“That name was also passed around.”

“Technically not my jurisdiction, and since she didn’t report it, I’m not supposed to know about it.”

“I’m afraid you will officially know about it soon.”

“Oh?”

“His friends and family, myself included, are going to put on a protest for his freedom. Drawing attention to the situation.”

That echoing laughter was back again.

“It wasn’t my idea, in case you were wondering.”

“I know, you wouldn’t come up with something so bold. Regardless, go ahead in through with it. I’ll make sure whatever protest happens gets brought to my superior’s attention, and then I will take it from there.”

“Thanks. I will owe you one.”

“Oh come now, Walter, we Changelings that survived the Fall of the Janus order have to stick together. Besides, I heard rumors that you’re caring for my familiar?”

“He’s still in the cradle stone, and the moment. One baby at a time, for now.”

“Then we’re even. Besides, this is the most interesting thing that’s happened in a while. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Your kindness is refreshing. I’m glad Gunmar didn’t eat you.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“We’ll be in touch then, Samuel.”

“Of course, Walter.”

—

“How goes the car repair?” Asked Merlin, as he met up with Toby and Claire in the park.

“Ugh, exhausting. First I stopped at the mechanics, and they’re still backed up with fixing other cars. Apparently, Gunmar’s army did a number and backed them up for months. But they gave me the names of all the clients who got totaled from Jim. I had to hit the scrap yard for four of them, and I just finished another two in driveways.”

“How many does that leave you with?”

“Seven more,” she sighed. “How goes the road work?”

“It goes. Now come along, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.” He didn’t wait for them to follow as he turned and started walking away.

Sharing a dubious look, Toby and Claire quickly caught up with him. He led them to a bookstore, where a young man was sweeping outside.

“Hisirdoux, my faithful and loyal apprentice—“

“You're damn straight I’m loyal!” He shouted. “Where have you been? I’ve been cleaning tables for the last 900 years!”

“Calm yourself boy, I’m here now, aren’t I? And I need your help.”

“Finally! What is it? Just say the word!”

“I need you to go with Miss Claire Nuñez and help her restore recently smashed vehicles.”

“What?”

“Or, you can repair street damage.”

Douxie crossed his arms. “What is this? I saw what happened! There were trolls, and evidence of Morgana! And now you need my help? To clean up, several months later?”

“That is correct.”

“Why didn’t you call for me back then?!”

“I forgot.”

“You forgot? About me?”

“Oh come now, don’t take it personally. I was busy trying to prepare the Trollhunter to fight Gunmar. And get my magic back from Morgana.”

Douxie seemed to become more sympathetic at that. “Morgana stole your magic?”

“Yes, but it’s all in the past now. Everything is fine. Well, not really. Seems that the US Army has declared the Trollhunter as a menace to society. We must get the trust of the city on our side if we are to get them to trust us, and agree that his capture is unjust.”

“Please,” said Claire. “We need all the help we can get.”

Douxie sighed. “Alright. Afterwards, you’re training me again.” He gave Merlin a hard look. “And no amateur magic either. I’ve been doing the same drills for 900 years. I think I’m ready for more advanced work.”

“Oh, you will be. Starting with helping Miss Nuñez field her shadow magic.”

Douxie looked at her, in awe. “You’re practicing shadow magic? Truly?”

“It’s a recent development…”

“She took Morgana’s Skathe-Hrün, and wielded it without any training. Because of that she has a tether to Morgana in the Shadow realm, who has been teaching her ever so slightly. I’m not allowed to train her, but she could use the guidance of a Wizard in the physical realm. Do you understand Hisirdoux?”

“I do, and I’ll be happy to teach her…I’m just…I’ll need a moment or two to digest the sentence you just said.”

“Well, don’t take too long, we have a Trollhunter to rescue!”

—

There was a heavy knock on the door, which was never a good thing. Especially nowadays.

Still, Barbara went to the door.

Standing there was Detective Scott and James Lake Sr.

“Does this belong to you?” Asked the detective.

“I don’t claim him, no.”

Her almost ex-husband smiled at her, pleadingly, “Please Babs?”

“What is he even doing out? You arrested him!”

“About that…” Detective Scott winced. “We don’t have enough to keep him on.”

“What!” She shouted. “He confessed in front of a bunch of people!”

“Which would be helpful if we had a case for a trial. But as it stands, he doesn’t actually have any drugs on him. And we don’t have a confession on tape. So…we’re shit out of luck.”

“Oh come on Louis, you know the cocaine came from him! Where else would Jim have gotten it from?”

“Look, the chief’s not thrilled that we didn’t arrest the guy responsible for trashing the town, but we’re supposed to arrest someone else without evidence?”

Barbara threw her hands up in the air. “With probable cause!”

“That doesn’t work with drug dealers. He’s clean, Barbara. All the blood tests came back clean too.”

“Ugh.”

The house shook slightly, and Barbara felt the floor bow behind her. “Is there a problem, officer?” Asked Draal.

“Nothing you can help with, Draal. Thank you.” Barbara sighed. “James is not being charged.”

“But he is a criminal, this degenerate flesh bag poisoned the Trollhunter! He should face banishment for his crimes!”

James withered a little with the glare Draal gave him.

“Well,” said Officer Scott. “Maybe you can keep an eye on him from now on. If you have evidence that he is dealing, like physical traces of cocaine on the premises, call us. But for now, there’s not much else we can do.”

“This is ludicrous.”

“I know, I’m sorry Barbara. How is Jim?”

She frowned. “You haven’t heard? The army came and collected him from the hospital!”

Louis sputtered. “The army came?!”

“Yes!”

“Where were they when Gunmar was terrorizing us?” He scoffed. “Again, sorry Barbara, I can’t help you here.”

“It’s alright. We’ve got a plan.”

“Love to hear it, but I’ve got to get back to the office. I’m sure Toby will tell Darci, and she’ll tell me. Good luck!” And he left James on the porch.

“Babs, I’m sorry…”

“Save it.” Barbara scoffed, but allowed him in the house.

Draal never took his eyes off the man.

“Well, you’ll be happy to know I have no more supply. And after Rudy found out what happened to my last Kilo, she’s not getting anymore for me. So…”

“I’ll have to thank Jim for keeping a kilogram of Cocaine off the streets of Arcadia. We have a fairly low rate of drug use around here, and we don’t need you to ruin people’s lives.”

James sighed, knowing he had dodged a huge bullet by being let off the hook. He’d rather deal with his wife than with his ex-associates in jail any day. “I think I’ve still ruined people’s lives anyway.” He walked into the living room, only to halt at the signs on the table.

Release Jim Lake Jr.

Justice for Jim

Let Lake Go!

“Babs, what is all this?”

“That’s part of our plan to free Jim! I’m friends with the councilwoman, and she suggested that we campaign for his release. Bringing a lot of unwanted attention onto his capture will stir the government to let him go!”

James jutted out his jaw, a sign of barely concealed rage. An expression Barbara had grown very used to in the last few months. “So, you’re going to put his name—my name in the news? You’re going to broadcast what city we live in?”

“Yes.”

He whirled on her, grabbing her arm. “Babs, people are looking for me! Horrible, mean, and ruthless people! If you put his name out there, they’ll know where to look!”

“All the better! Then they can come take you off my hands!”

“You don’t understand! I owe them a lot of money, and they’ll take it anyway they can! That includes extorting you, Jim, and whoever else they connect with me!”

Draal stepped in, removing his hand from Barbara’s arm. “This house is under my protection. If anyone dare tries to enter, they will be dealt with swiftly.”

“You don’t know what these men are capable of.”

“I assure you, I’ve decimated armies of flesh bags in my day. These men are no different.”

Barbara smiled. “If you’re really that scared, I hear Vermont is lovely this time of year.”

James just narrowed his eyes, before storming out of the room.

—

The first rally took place from 3pm to dusk, starting from after school, and leading up to when Trolls would be able to participate. Granted, it was only a handful of people, but standing in the middle of downtown did garner a lot of attention. More than a dozen people walking past had stopped to ask about the cause. They were then given a short synopsis of the situation, as it pertained to them:

“Jim is a 16 year old student who was chosen by the trolls to be our protector. He willingly gave up his humanity to defeat Gunmar the Black, the monstrous troll that attacked the city at the beginning of the summer. Now, he looks like a troll, and was sabotaged to go into a rage and damage the city. The US army took him away without a trial! He’s a hero to the city, and deserves fair treatment!”

Reactions ranged from:

“Oh, he stopped that thing?”

To:

“Oh my god! He’s just a child!”

Overwhelmingly, there was no negative feedback, at least in person. But it was only day one.

—

“This daylight...is it significant?” The colonel asked, as she circled his table.

“It’s just a name.” Jim lied. “A sword with a name is stronger than one without.”

“Interesting. Interesting indeed. According to my notes, trolls turn to stone in daylight. Any correlation there?”

So she already knew? Then what was the point? Was she just playing with him?

“I’m the Trollhunter, and I fight bad trolls. It would make sense to name my sword after something they’re afraid of.”

She hummed. “And what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Are you afraid of daylight?”

“Why would I be?”

The colonel laughed. “Oh Jim Lake Jr. You’re the worst liar I’ve ever met. You are honest and forthcoming with truths that work in your favor. You freely told me of your transformation, and of your victory against a Troll tyrant. But now that I’m edging on the topic of your weakness, you clam up and give me vague answers. I can do this all day, beast. What does daylight do to you?”

“Nothing. It doesn’t do anything to me.”

“Really? Even as a troll? That’s interesting.”

“It’s fortunate.”

“I would say so. Though, now you’ve got me curious. These burns on your skin…where did they come from?” She dragged her fingernail over one of the dark marks.

Jim winced. “I don’t know. I wasn’t aware in my rage state.”

“Then you won’t mind if I find out for myself?” She crooked a finger towards the shadows. Jim could hear the creak of wheels before a lamp with several fixtures was wheeled forward.

“Oh no…”

“UV lights, all different wattages. Let’s see what works the best, hmm?”

—

ARCADIA TRIBUNE

Justice for Jim

By Nadja Chamack

Who is Jim Lake Jr. anyway? This is a question I asked myself as I drove downtown three days ago. No doubt, you’ve seen the crowd of students and teachers holding signs on the corner of Main and State Street. It’s pretty hard to miss, quite honestly. Among the students, there’s also Councilwoman Nuñez, and resident Troll Mascot, ARRRGH! Signs range from ‘Justice for Jim’ to ‘Free our Lake’.

But who is Jim Lake Jr.? And what happened? A precursory search on my end showed only a scant few facts. Jim is a student at Arcadia Highschool, in his Junior year. He was nominated as Spring Fling King last year, and played the part of Romeo in the school play. His criminal record seemed pretty clean too. A misdemeanor for scratching a rental scooter was all that showed up. But hey, who hasn’t done that?

So I went to the source, his family and friends campaigning for him. On Saturday, the group was downtown, campaigning all day long, so I had the chance to interview each and every person about why they were there.

Turns out, Jim Lake Jr. might be the most amazing person in Arcadia.

From his mother, Dr. Barbara Lake, I learned that Jim is an Arcadia native, born and raised here. He enjoys cooking gourmet food, working on his vespa, and acting.

Oh, and he’s the first human Trollhunter.

What? You’ve never heard of a Trollhunter? Me neither. But Barbara and Blinky, another resident Troll, gave me the scoop.

You all remember that night at the beginning of the summer that we all promised not to talk about? Well, I’m going to talk about it. In fact, I’m here to give you all the answers you’ve been craving.

Many months before that fateful night, a new Trollhunter was chosen, after the previous one had perished. “The Trollhunter is chosen according to his mettle, by the amulet of the Trollhunter, as created by Merlin, the wizard of Arthurian legend. Jim was chosen after the fall of Kanjigar, his predecessor. Jim is the first human to be chosen, also the smallest and weakest. But, he was the first to defeat Bular, son of Gunmar!” Said his mentor, Blinky. None of this made any sense to me at first, though it was said with great enthusiasm.

It turns out, the trolls that we’ve gotten used to seeing around town, mostly ARRRGH, are ‘good’ trolls. The bad trolls, ‘Gum-gums’ are what invaded our town and destroyed my car. The Trollhunter’s whole job is to fight off these bad trolls, and gnomes, and goblins, and everything else that goes bump in the night. And so he did. The Gum-Gums invaded from the ‘Darklands’, being led by a fearsome troll named Gunmar the Black, the Skullcrasher, the Dark Lord…he had a lot of names, and it was obviously a bad dude. Gunmar had plans to invade the whole world by blotting out the sun, a.k.a the eclipse we saw. And he would have gotten away for it too, if it weren’t for those meddling kids!

Mainly Jim Lake Jr. and his friends.

And how does a sixteen year old defeat a couple millennia old, bloodthirsty, all powerful tyrant? With a fancy sword? Close. With some magical armor? Closer. By giving up a part of his humanity and becoming a half-human, half-troll hybrid? Now you’re getting it! Yes, to protect Arcadia, to protect us, Jim Lake Jr. allowed himself to be changed. You may have seen him around town. Blue skin, big horns...okay, I just described most of the trolls that are around here.

“Jim works the night shift at my store,” said Stu Harding, owner of Thrifty Furnishings. “He’s a very hard worker, and always willing to do the heavy lifting that is hard for the other employees to do.”

“Despite his appearance, Jim ultimately decided to attend school,” said Principal Walter Strickler. “After the school found out about why he had missed so many days of school, they were willing to move him onto the next grade to be with his peers. He was a good student before all this, and he fought really hard to keep his grades up regardless. We felt he should still have the opportunity to graduate. We were looking forward to having him on our football team, and in our spring production of Beauty and the Beast.”

So what happened to Jim? And why is there such a big campaign for his freedom?

Well, the truth is that Jim is a victim of unfortunate circumstances. In more ways than one, obviously. Trolls eat our trash. That’s why Arcadia has such a small carbon footprint! (Be sure to thank ARRRGH next time you see him!) And this trait was adopted by Jim too, when he was transformed.

“He just picked a bunch of items out of the trash. Cans, an old sock, and what looked like a VHS wrapped in duct tape,” said Jim’s best friend, Toby Dolmzalski. “It was a normal lunch for him. But right in the middle of gym class, he turned crazy town banana pants and took off! I had never seen Jim act like that! Ever!”

After an 8 hour rage through town, Jim collapsed and was taken to the hospital for evaluation. It turns out what Jim had ingested turned out to be a kilogram of pure cocaine!

At this time, it is unknown where the cocaine came from, or if it was planted purposefully. (Seriously, who throws away a kilogram of cocaine?)

But the damage that Jim caused was extensive enough to catch the attention of the US army, who has taken Jim into captivity from the hospital. No trial, no rights, they even took him while he was unconscious. His friends and family have not heard from him since.

“I’m so worried,” said girlfriend, Claire Nuñez. “He was injured from the battle with Gunmar, and didn’t completely heal. In the hospital, he was covered in burns from the sun. I have no idea if they’re caring for him properly, or dissecting him like some creature. But he deserves so much better than this. He saved our town, he saved my life, and the life of my baby brother. That’s why we won’t rest until he’s home!”

“Not bad,” said ARRRGH, long time friend of Jim. “Good troll have bad days, best trolls have worse days. Jim need some good days.”

Couldn’t have said it better myself, ARRRGH.

Friends and family of Jim are asking everyone share #JusticeforJim on social media, hoping to get the attention of someone in charge. All the damage caused by Jim has been repaired, and there were no casualties from his attack.

Of course, the whole ‘troll’ aspect of this story has to be a local legend. So when sharing it to social media, kindly leave that part out.

—

“C-Bomb!” Mary shouted from the other end of the hall. She came running and almost crashed into Claire and Toby, holding her phone up in the air. “My twitter feed is blowing up, girl! Look at all of this!” She held the screen up so they could see.

“Citizen abducted by the government, is this China or North Korea? Neither! It’s the US! #JusticeforJim”

“Imagine if this was your son. So sad, and so scary! #JusticeforJim”

“This is real life, not science fiction #JusticeforJim”

“Whoa, where did these all come from?” Asked Claire. “What did you post?”

“Did you know Snapper Karr did a report on it!?”

“Snapper Karr? From KTTV in LA?”

“Yes! Thankfully, he left out the whole troll thing. I’ll send you a link. In his story, Jim is just a kid that has a rare genetic disorder that makes him look different, and so the government took him away!”

Claire winced. “This is…kind of spiraling out of control.”

“I don’t know why you’re worrying, Claire,” said Darci. “We want people talking about Jim getting abducted. It doesn’t matter if the world outside Arcadia doesn’t have all the facts. They still know he’s been taken away without a trial, and that’s all that’s important. Besides, Jim doesn’t want the whole world knowing about Trolls, right?”

She nodded. “As long as this works, I’ll be happy.”

“And sensationalist stories like this blow up for like a week, and then they die out and are forgotten. This won’t last.” Mary waved her hand. “It should work long enough to get Jimmy Jam out though.” Then she squealed. “OMG you know what we should do?! We should totally have a welcome home party! Or-or a parade! Like they have for veterans!”

“Mary, I don’t think—“

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it! You’re not the only one with ties to the city!” And she hurried off, texting frantically.

“What’s up Claire? I would have thought you’d be ecstatic the hashtag went viral.” Asked Toby.

“Don’t get me wrong, I am happy. And I’m happy that Snapper Karr chalked the troll thing up to local legend or superstition…but I can’t help but worry that something bad is going to come out of this.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. It’s just a gut feeling.” She scoffed and went to her locker. “It’s dumb, don’t worry about it.”

No sooner had she said that, did Strickler appear. “Claire, Toby, come with me.”

“What?”

“I’ve already spoken with your teachers, now come along.”

Claire and Toby shared a look, but followed regardless.

—

They were led to the parking lot, where a black van with tinted windows waited, a huge red flag, if there ever was one.

“Umm…” said Toby.

“Don’t worry.” Strickler assured.

A man in an army uniform stepped out of the driver seat. “Walter, good to see you again.”

“Glad to see you as well, Samuel. And thank you for following through with your promise.”

“As I said, this is the most interesting thing to happen in a while.” He glanced at the two teenagers in attendance. “We’re just waiting for his mother, correct?”

“She should be here soon.”

Toby muttered to Claire, “Who’s Jorgen Von Strangle over here?”

“No idea.”

And just like that, Barbara pulled into the parking lot, haphazardly parked, and ran over to them, still in her scrubs. “I came as soon as I could! We’re going to get Jim?!”

“What?!” Screamed Toby. “We’re rescuing him?!”

“That is the goal,” the man answered. “I’m General Samuel Attila. I’ve been given authorization to intervene in this situation, given that this project, whatever it is, hasn’t been officially recorded. But, bear in mind, you may not like what you see. We may be bringing home Jim, or just his body. I don’t know. So if anyone is uncomfortable with that idea, I suggest you stay behind.”

“I’m going,” Said Toby. “No matter what.”

“Me too,” said Claire. “It’ll hurt, but I want to know what happened to him.”

“Alright, then let’s hurry. The facility is about an hour away.” He ushered everyone into the van, which had two front seats, two benches along the walls, and a gurney in the middle. As soon as everyone was buckled, they headed out.

“Hey, if you know Mr. Strickler, does that mean you’re a…?”

“A what, Toby?” Asked Walt, with a hint of amusement in his tone.

“A…man of culture?”

“Yes, I am a changeling.”

Toby exhaled. “Okay, it’s like super hard to ask that question when you don’t know who knows, you know?”

“I owe the Trollhunter a debt of gratitude for stopping Gunmar. After he ate the entirety of the Janus order, we the few that weren’t present for his return stayed in hiding. Had Gunmar taken over the world, my death as a traitor would have been slow and painful. We were thinking about sending him a thoughtful gift basket, but I think this is more fun. I love to bully those in lower ranks. The fleshbags get a few pretty badges and think they’re invincible. I love watching them cower!”

Toby leaned closer to Claire. “He was so nice and helpful, I was beginning to wonder if he was actually a changeling.”

“Same! But I actually feel better knowing he’s got ulterior motives, and that they have nothing to do with us.”

“Have you heard from Nomura lately?” Samuel asked Walter.

“She was in Arcadia for a while. She helped with the fight with Gunmar. Right now, I believe she’s on her way back from New Jersey.”

“New Jersey? What was she doing out there?”

“After Morgana and Gunmar destroyed the Heartstone, Jim and Blinky went in search of a new one.”

“Oh, yes. I forgot there were rumors of a source in New Jersey. Did they find it?”

“Yep,” said Claire. “But it wasn’t very big, so we brought it back to Arcadia in a truck. The rest of the tribe is making their way back on foot.”

“Ah, that explains it.” Samuel nodded. “You’re both very lucky. Not many Changeling’s are allowed in Trollmarket.”

“Now that Gunmar’s out of the picture, I’m sure you could visit too!” Toby exclaimed, before getting elbowed in the gut by Claire.

“It’d be nice to see it once. I’m sad I didn’t get to see the Heartstone in its glory, but such is life.”

The rest of the ride continued in relative silence. Strickler and Samuel spoke to each other, mostly catching up. But Toby, Claire, and Barbara were far too anxious to keep up with the conversation.

There were no windows in the back of the vehicle, so there was no way of knowing where they were. From the front, they looked to be in a weaving forest trail.

Then there were huge cement walls in front of them.

Samuel pulled in the front gate.

The man at the gate didn’t look up from his computer. “You’re not authorized to be here.”

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t recognize your vehicle, so I know you don’t have clearance.”

Samuel sat up a little straighter, glaring at the soldier at the gate. “How about you scan my badge first, and then tell me if I have clearance, Lieutenant.”

The soldier gave a little shrug and reached out for the badge, his eyes widening as he caught a glance at the four stars on the man’s shoulder. “Oh.”

“Problem?”

“No, sir. I just…I don’t need to scan your badge, you can go in.”

“Thank you. At ease soldier.”

Toby held back a snicker.

“And, let Colonel Kubritz know she has company.”

“Yes sir.”

“As you were.”

The gate rolled open, and they pulled through.

It seemed like Samuel’s message was received pretty quickly, because the woman that had taken Jim was waiting for them, flanked by soldiers with strange weapons.

“Stay in the car.” He told everyone, before getting out.

“I was not aware of any sort of inspection. You are not my commanding general, and therefore not welcome here. This facility holds highly dangerous equipment and confidential projects.”

“Stand down, Colonel. I am here on behalf of general Adele. I’m here to recover Jim Lake Jr. General Adele will be speaking to you about your discharge.”

“What are you talking about?” She demanded.

“You kidnapped a teenage boy from a hospital. Surely you didn’t think that wouldn’t go unnoticed? I have video evidence of you leaving the hospital with him.”

“He’s not a normal boy—“

“I’d say so! His whole town is hailing him as a hero for saving them from an invasion! I thought this facility was for research on protecting Earth from invaders. And you’re punishing a boy for saving a town?”

“He also destroyed it. Don’t give into their little campaign. Jim Lake Jr. may have done something good once, but that doesn’t stop him from being a monster.”

“I was just in Arcadia, Colonel. There is no damage. There’s no lawsuits against Jim Lake Jr. There’s not even any pending arrests.”

“I have video evidence of his destruction!” She barked.

“Then let the local police handle it.”

She growled, then commanded her men to stand down. “Fine. But if he does this again, no one will stop me from taking him.”

“Actually,” he clarified with a smirk. “You’re being discharged. So you won’t have any means to take him again.”

Her mouth opened in shock, as she fought to find an argument.

But he was a general, he was above her.

“Now, Jim Lake Jr.?”

She grumbled something and started off towards a big central building.

Samuel was quick to beckon the others out of the car to follow him, and headed towards the same building as Kubritz.

When Barbara reached them, she spoke, “you didn’t hurt my son, did you?”

Kubritz didn’t even look at her. “I don’t have to share information with civilians.”

Claire clenched her fists in anger, a black haze coming over her hands.

But Toby simply patted her on the back to ground her.

Colonel Kubritz led them through the research facility, ignoring their questions.

They reached the room Jim was being held in, and she entered her code to open the door.

Of course, Jim wasn’t the only thing in the room, being surrounded by specimens of all sorts of living creatures, but he was right in the center, with a spot light right on him.

“Jim!” Claire shouted first as she ran to him.

The poor boy was naked, lying on his back and strapped to the table with thick iron bonds. His wound from Morgana wasn’t the worst on him anymore, as he was covered in blackened burned spots. The spot that had the amulet was now just a hole in his chest, that went right down to the ribs. Claire could see his heart beating, and his lungs moving, thank god.

“Jim...” she cried, seeing the carnage.

“What did you do to him?!” Toby shouted at the Colonel, but she didn’t respond.

“Honey? Jim? Can you hear me?” Barbara asked, as she assessed the damage.

His eyes opened ever so slightly. “Mom? Is that you? Are you...really here?”

“Yeah kiddo,” she wiped some tears from her eyes. “It’s me, I’m here. Toby, Claire, and Walt are here too. We’re going to take you home.”

His smile was just a hint, and he stated, “I’m tired.”

“I’m sure you are. We’re going to get you fixed up!” She turned to the Colonel. “Get me a gurney or a wheelchair!”

She scoffed. “I don’t take orders from civilians.”

Samuel interceded. “Then get me a soldier who isn’t completely incompetent! If you’re going to continue to endanger the life of this young man, then I suggest you get out of my sight before I endanger yours.”

The Colonel didn’t waver, though a tremor went down her spine. “Lieutenant!” She called.

A man hurried into the room, standing at attention.

Kubritz just gave a roll of the eyes. “Follow whatever order the general gives you.”

“But—“

“No, I’m done.” With one last glare to Samuel, she added, “I'll be sending my evidence to General Adele, then we’ll see who’s the one putting the nation in danger.”

“Go ahead, I’ve already given my report.”

She growled at him, turned and left without another word.

The lieutenant just stood at attention in front of Samuel instead. “Orders sir?”

“Get someone to fetch the gurney from the back of our van, and send for the medic! And get someone to get these shackles off this kid!”

“Sir yes sir!”

Meanwhile, Claire stood right by Jim’s side, holding his hand, brushing the bangs away from his face and combing his hair with her fingers. He had a pretty strong fever.

“You’re going to be alright Jim. We’re going to take good care of you.”

“I’m…cold…” He breathed.

Barbara found some vinyl gloves nearby and got to work examining her boy. “I don’t know about the Troll half, but this tissue looks alright. I don’t see any infection yet, or any tissue death. Of course, we need to get this covered immediately.”

“Where’s the amulet?” Asked Walt. “That’s what’s missing.”

“The amulet!” Barbara addressed Samuel. “His amulet, we have to find it!”

He nodded, “we can’t let these psychos have it. They have no idea what magic it possesses, even without being the chosen wielder.”

Only a beat passed before the army medic came with the gurney, and another soldier came with a crowbar to undo the shackles.

“Lieutenant, we’re looking for an amulet that came with Jim. It’s what’s missing from his chest.”

The Lieutenant blanched. “I don’t know anything about it…I can ask the Colonel?”

“She won’t tell.”

The shackles fell free from Jim’s limbs, but he didn’t seem to register it.

“Alright,” said Barbara, “Let’s move him onto the gurney. We can worry about the amulet later.” It took everyone to lift him and carefully slide him over. Then, he was covered up to his stomach with a blanket.

“You’re going home, Jim. Mi amor, you’re safe now.” Claire whispered, kissing his forehead.

“Hmm…” Jim weakly groaned. “…for the…glory…” But before he could finish, he fell back into sleep.

#arcadia or bust #tales of arcadia #Trollhunters #troll jim #jim lake junior #claire nunez #toby domzalski #fanfiction

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