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darkfictionjude · 9 months ago

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[Demonfused MC] Remake: The Dark Lady

The Story behind the Demon Fused with MC:

The Dark Lady is a Spanish Noblewoman who died a really long time ago in Spain she was accused of Witchcraft and burned at the stake (but the real reason for her death was because she feel in love with another woman, a married woman in a bad relationship)

she later woke up in hell as a demon and using her magical knowledge she forced teleport out of hell temporerly into her manor where her extensive library of magical knowledge resides she had made sure they wouldnt have been able to reach her library when they came for her so it was a surprise to find out one of the people responsible was a fey and had managed to get in.

long story short she made short work of the Fay and ate his soul before teleporting her library to hell and killed her lover's husband by eating his soul after torturing him the worst betrayal was her lover she was the one who lead to her death and she knew it was her so she killed her without eating her soul and returned to Hell until....

Its the year MC's parents end up having MC and a reincarnation spell goes wrong and The Dark Lady's Demonic Soul ends up sharing MC's body and Soul which leads to a very painful process of one soul trying to eat the other soul and the other trying to expel them until both them and MC where born it wasn't until MC was 5 when both souls fused.

MC had a burning chest pain all day and until they felt compelled and they ran into the woods on the back of Crown manor until they fall on their knees and let out a blood curling scream as blood ran down their forehead as long black horns started to grow out from under their skin and down their back as demonic wings burst out through the skin and clothes of their back as both eyes turn black and they pass out where MC meets her in their mental space looking like a tired and disheveled 5 year old and they talk.

But onto the ask How would the Parents and Brothers react to getting a call from the hospital letting them know Orla is in the hospital currently undergoing surgery when they get their they see MC in the waiting room covered in blood and MC tells them they found Orla being attacked so they fought the person and rushed Orla to the hospital and then the doctors come out and ask if their the family members of Orla Crown and they tell them she's stable but she's gonna go into the intensive care unit due to her injuries and they then see how the killer left Orla.

The thing with these very long and detailed ask is that they stump me, because the answer is usually that all the characters have a universal response. No room for individual reactions really 😭 also could it be a bit shorter? AUs asks trigger an odd part of my brain that really likes “neatness” its the closest way I can describe it I don’t know maybe I should get tested

The parents aren’t focusing on whatever is going on with mc because they’re daughter is literally between live and death, that’s at the forefront of their mind. Which as cruel as they are, I think its a normal response from partners.

Sally tries to divide his time between Orla and mc but apart from getting mc checked for wounds he does spend more time at Orla’s bed side and asks mc to remain within his eyesight. Orla and Percy are close to Irish twins so he doesn’t even notice mc immediately because he’s afraid for Orla, he does manage a thank you later on.

For now no one is focused on the wannabe killer until Orla is better. And then it’s Victor who goes to talk to the mayor

#demonfused mc #the crowns #we wretched creatures

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thespamman24 · 2 years ago

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what is your favourite form of potato?

I’m glad you asked! These are all the different forms of potatoes, ranked worst to best:

18. Potato Salad

Potato salad is the opposite of fruit salad. Number one: mayonnaise. Mayonnaise is the most pointless liquid in the universe, and I live on the same planet as piss. Second off, there’s a right way to do onions and a wrong way. Potato salad does it the wrong way. Thirdly, potato salad is far too wet. It sticks to my mouth like a blood sucking parasite. However, instead of sucking blood, it just sucks joy.

17. Just a Raw Potato

Too hard. Tastes just like how it looks. I tell raw potatoes just what I told my ex, “call me back when you’ve been near a fire for a long time and also have been lightly salted."

16. Potato Bread

Why would you do that? This is an offense to nature.

15. Baked Potatoes

Baked potatoes have the flavor of a Lewis Capaldi song. Sure, they are one of the most basic form of potato, but that’s what makes them so boring. It’s like playing as Mario in Smash.

14. Smashed Potatoes

These are mashed potatoes, but with the Lovecraftian horror of potato skins in the potatoes added in.

13. Mashed Potatoes

Everytime I eat mashed potatoes, I’m disappointed. They look so creamy and frothy and then I eat them and they taste like how airplanes smell.

12. Hasselback Potatoes

These ain’t much different than baked potatoes, but there’s something about the insane amount of slicing that is so…alluring, sexual perhaps. The amount of slicing is just so utterly ridiculous you know that something must be going on. However, these are just one trick ponies.

11. Gnocchi

Gnocchis taste good, but their appearance reminds me of maggots.

10. Potato Wedges

These are what French fries would be like if they weren't as good.

9. Potato Skins

I like skin.

8. Potato Chips

Ohhh yeah…now we’re getting into the good stuff. A massive jump up in quality from previous offerings. Who doesn’t like potato chips? They set your mouth on fire, they turn your lips into deserts, they cut your tongue, and it’s amazing.

7. Patatas Bravas

Hey, what if potatoes, but spicy? Absolutely genius idea Spain, gold star for you. These taters will set you on fire in all the best ways, and they may also cure erectile dysfunction. You never know with potatoes. These are, without a doubt, the Kid A of potatoes.

6. Scalloped Potatoes

The answer to the question, what if Hasselback potatoes but we added other tricks to the pony? And boy oh boy does this pony have tricks! Cream and onions and sunshine and rainbows and all the love in the world.

5. Hash Browns

How can one bite into a hash brown without instantly being teleported to somewhere where there are a lot of hashbrowns?

4. Latkes

Ain’t no party like a Hanukkah. Obviously, everything is better when you smother it in oil and then set it on fire a bit.

3. Roasted Potatoes

Fuck yeah. I like my potatoes like I like my woman, set on fire for extended periods of time. At least, I assume that’s what roasted means. Nevertheless, roasted potatoes are juicy, succulent delights

2.Tater Tots

Now, sure, your ordinary elementary school cafeteria tater tots might not be anything special. However, those fancy deluxe tater tots? Those are to die, kill, maim, torture, and break the geneva convention for. Every bite just oozes with untold amounts of flavor.

Truely, tater tots are the OK Computer of potato forms.

French Fries

One of the greatest foods known to man. One bite of a single french fry is enough to make all your worries melt into a puddle and then fall down the drain.However, it is here that we must rank the various kinds of french fries.

1d. Normal french fries

Great, but ordinary, like a warm blanket or a cup of hot cocoa. Not anything groundbreaking, but enjoyable nonetheless.

1c. Curvy French Fries

I am literally salivating. Oh god…so good.

1b. Waffle French Fries

One of the best things ever created. Second only to…

1a. Garlic French Fries!

Garlic French fries are the best things ever because garlic.

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fanficshiddles · 2 years ago

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Out Of The Darkness, Chapter 18

Loki was trying to decide on what to do, when there was a soft knock on the door. He grumbled low in annoyance. He was reluctant to answer, but when he used his powers to see who it was, he saw it was Clint and he was alone.

So Loki teleported outside, arms folded over his chest to see what he wanted.

‘Loki, I know nothing we can say will make it better. But Fury is planning to come and get Grace in an hour. I don’t know where you’re planning on going, or if you are going somewhere. But here, take this.’ Clint reached out with a key.

Loki just eyed it up cautiously. ‘What is that?’

‘A key.’

‘I know it’s a key, I can see, but to where?’ Loki snarled.

‘I have a safe house in Spain, no one here knows about it. Not even Fury.’ Clint said quietly. ‘Take it, so you can get Grace somewhere peaceful for a while until you both decide what to do next.’

‘Why are you helping us?’ Loki asked as he hesitantly took the key from him.

Clint sighed and looked down. ‘Because I didn’t want Kilgrave to be taken out of that cell either. But I still let it happen, I should have done something more to stop it. Or at least warned you guys before it happened. But it was so quick.’

Loki breathed out deeply. ‘I need more than an hour. Grace has passed out, I don’t know how long for but she needs to sleep. I don’t want to just take her from here without her permission.’

Clint shook his head. ‘Fury said an hour they were coming to get her to speak about it. He’s really not happy that Kilgrave is dead, even after what he did to everyone. I’m sure Grace will understand why you took her out of here. If you explain the situation and are there when she wakes, I’m sure she will be ok. If she wants to come back then you can take her back. There’s a quinjet that was in the garage for repairs, if you take that I can tell the others it’s just an agent taking it for a test run. I’m sure you know how to disable it’s tracking.’

Loki bit his lower lip in thought for a moment, then realised that Clint was right. He could just take her straight back if that’s what she wanted. But he really just needed to let her rest for as long as her body and mind needed.

‘Thanks.’ Loki said reluctantly.

‘Take care of her, Loki… and yourself.’ Clint smiled and refrained from patting his arm, instead he just turned and headed off down the hall.

Loki took another deep breath and ran a hand down his face as he stepped back into Grace’s room. She was still asleep, as he knew she would be.

He quietly packed a suitcase with all of her belongings, making sure he didn’t miss anything. Then he gently scooped her up into his arms and teleported them both out into the garage. There was a jet there, like Clint had said.

Loki lay Grace on the medic bed in the jet and strapped her in so she was secure.

He softly stroked her hair. ‘I hope I’m doing the right thing for you, petal. I just want you to be happy and safe.’ He whispered and leaned down to kiss her forehead.

Then he got the jet running and quickly turned off all the tracking devices. And to his relief, they got away without a hitch.

‘They’re gone!’ Bruce exclaimed to the team as he ran into the meeting room, red faced from running as fast as he could.

‘What do you mean, they’re gone?’ Fury snapped.

‘Grace’s room is empty, stuff all gone. Same with Loki’s room.’ Bruce said as he sat down.

Clint kept quiet in the background while the team all looked at one another, worriedly.

Fury ran a hand down his face. ‘This can’t be happening. Loki can’t be loose out there. And we need to speak to Grace about what she did!’

‘She did the right thing.’ Natasha spoke up. ‘There was no way we could have ever had that man free, no way we could have ever trusted him. He had the entire place under his control. Until Grace managed to break free from it, something that so far only Loki, a God, could do.’

‘She’s right. Loki was the one who taught Grace to protect herself from him. She finally managed to break free after all those years of torture. I think letting her go and live her life is the least we can do.’ Said Clint.

‘I agree.’ Tony said, surprising everyone. ‘I was so adamant that we could use Kilgrave for our own gain, but I should have seen that it would never have worked. I was a fool to even consider it, and because of that some of our agents are dead and if it wasn’t for Grace and Loki, the death toll could have been much, much higher.’

‘Or if it had been done with more thought and planning, perhaps we could have had the most powerful weapon in the Universe on our side.’ Fury barked.

‘I wouldn’t say in the Universe, since his powers didn’t work on the likes of Loki. And obviously there is ways to fight back, since Grace was able to get her mind back from him.’ Bruce said.

Fury ignored him, he just continued to glare at the team. ‘We need to find Loki and Grace. I need her in. And Loki can’t be left running around loose.’

‘Loki is no threat, you know that just as much as we do. He just cares about Grace.’ Clint said and the others mumbled in agreement.

‘That doesn’t matter. We had an agreement with Odin that Loki was to remain here, under our watch. Or he was to be sent back to Asgard, to prison. He can’t be free on Earth, the world he tried to rule, or have you all forgotten about that?’

Natasha narrowed her eyes at Fury. ‘You know as well as we do that he is past that.’

‘We don’t know shit when it comes to that lunatic.’ Fury snapped at her.

‘That’s my brother you are talking about.’ Thor growled at him, stepping closer.

Fury glared at Thor. ‘Then you should’ve kept your brother on a tighter leash and not let him escape.’

Thor clenched his fists hard, but did nothing as he knew it wouldn’t help the situation. Though everyone was glad when Fury stormed out of the room, barking orders at them all to find Loki and Grace.

Clint looked around the team. ‘I don’t know about you guys, but I am not going to search for them. They deserve a chance to be happy, and they can’t have that here.’

The team all nodded in agreement, even Tony did. Which surprised Clint slightly.

‘I certainly won’t be letting my father know about his disappearance. I will speak to Heimdall, too.’ Thor said.

‘Grace especially deserves to be happy, to be free.’ Natasha said with a slight lump in her throat.

‘She does.’ Bruce nodded in agreement.

#Loki #Tom Hiddleston #out of the darkness #loki x ofc

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platonic-prompts · 3 years ago

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For Worldbuilding: Portals and Time travel? A bit separate, but any tips of rituals for Gods in different domains in a peninsula?

Well the biggest question is: Branching timeline or one timeline?

The difference between the two is basically Marvel vs DC. Sure Marvel has the TVA or whatever, but the timeline is capable of branching off at various points. If you go back in time and kill your grandfather, then it will split off and create a timeline and not affect you personally, this is back to the future style, where Marty accidentally caused a branch. And then the one timeline is DC. In Flashpoint the flash goes back to save his mom, this had the ripple effect of meaning bruce dies instead of his parents, Martha Wayne becomes the Joker and also Atlanteans and Amazons are at war. If you killed your grandfather here, presumably your grandmother would have a kid with someone else to allow for you to end up being born.

This is why Impusle comes to the past and also why in Pokemon Mystery Dungeon Explorers of Darkness/Time/Sky you can have a direct impact on the future

Does time-travel affect one person? What's the extent time travel can be implied? Clockwork from Danny Phantom can stop time and allow people to move through it with a medallion, he can send people to the past

Does time travel mess with the natural order or is it a natural phenomeom? Can you waltz through a door and suddenly find yourself five days in the past? How far back/forward can you go?

How has time travel affected technological advancement? Do future civs bring back tech to the past to hopefully increase the tech they have access to? Can people hop branches of timelines?

If it's a machine built to time travel, what is it? Is it a car, a train, a police call booth, something else? Are there rules people have to follow while time traveling? In Pendragon, the MC can't bring something between the worlds, even from Earth-2 to Earth-1 or Earth-3. Is there an agency to enforce these rules?

Do smugglers use time travel to get goods through customs? Do people use it to trade stocks? How have events been shaped by time-travelers? Do you need to go to school to be allowed to time travel?

How do the portals form? Naturally or man made? Do they have to be anchored somewhere to keep from disappearing? Can people open portals? If they can, do they need assistance from an item? Do the portals allow for travel or only storing items? Can they store skeletons in them?

Can portals only be opened within eyesight without connection to a stationary portal? Like the blink abilites or shadow step in dnd versus using the return spell in Rune Factory or teleport in pokemon (both of which take you to set locations) Does more distance put more strain on the body?

Are natural portals rough while created are smoother? Is there a way to tell where a portal will lead, or will it suck you through when you get close to it?

What causes the appearances of portals? Do gods influence it? Does the moon or sun? Can people predict when the next portal will open? Will eclipses affect portals? Are the portals instant teleportation or a walk through an area (like how the nether can be used)?

As for the rituals, it really depends on the type of god. Festivals for Dionysus involved putting on plays, a lot of festivals in Greece were athletics games dedicated to the gods, other times by animal sacrifices. Other festivals would be with singing and dancing, I'd recommend at looking at the festivals close to the culture you want the penisula to be like. Spain and Florida would have very different festivals

#ask #worldbuilding questions #prompts

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atinydise · 4 years ago

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Too Late

❦ Genre: Angst.

❦ Pairing: Wooyoung.

❦ Word count: 911.

❦ A/N: Day 10 of “Ateez New Year Writings, Edition 2021” 🦋

"Wooyoung!" Entered San in his friend's room, totally worried. "San... I told you I want to be alone." Replied Wooyoung, face buried under his pillow. "Seonghwa-Hyung saw Y/N at the mall! She's leaving!" The young boy threw the pillow away, staring right at San. "Leaving? What do you mean by 'leaving'? "She's leaving South Korea! Today." "I can't believe it... She can't leave this way, she has a job, her college and her friends here." He stood up, running right in the kitchen, sure to find his Hyung here. "Seonghwa Hyung!" He yelled. "I know what you are going to ask me, and I can't say anything." He stopped him. "What? Hyung you need to tell me! I need to ask her to stay in South-Korea!" "She asked me to not tell you. She doesn't want to see you Wooyoung." This information was like an electroshock for him. You decided to erase him of your life. In only few months you were ready to continue your life without him, but he was not. He kept everything; your selfies and pictures together in his phone, you were still his wallpaper, the dozens of frames in his room were still there, all your gifts were hanging in his wardrobe, still intact. But you probably threw away everything, every memory, every gift, every pictures. "I know it will be hard, but she was clear with me." Said Seonghwa, patting his back. "If she sees you, she might change her mind. Let her be happy again Wooyoung." "I've never wanted to break up with her Hyung." Replied Wooyoung. "Everyone is acting like I did it, but no. The company did!" "Wooyoung, calm down." Whispered San, holding his friend by the shoulders. "How can I remain calm when the love of my life is leaving the country? Leaving me alone here?" He asked, his eyes tearing a bit. Seonghwa and San felt really bad for him. With a quick glance, San begged him to tell at least 2 or 3 information, so Wooyoung could maybe find you before you leave. The eldest member sighed and rubbed his forehead, "she's going to Spain for few months, her plane is in 1 hour, maybe less now." With this information, Wooyoung run to the hallway, he put the easiest sneakers he found and grabbed his coat. "Wooyoung you'll never be there in time!" Yelled San just behind him. "I'm going to do my best to stop her." He claimed, slamming the door.

Wooyoung jumped in the first taxi he saw. He apologized to the young couple who was waiting for the same one. "Sorry I need to see my girlfriend before she leaves the country!" He shouted aggressively. Unlucky for him, the beginning of the road might be quick, but the traffic was disastrous in the next minutes. "Sir, do you think we will be at the airport in time?" "I don't know young boy, usually the traffic is stuck for 30 minutes minimum." "30 minutes? I don't have the time to be stuck for 30 minutes Sir!" Panicked Wooyoung. "Sorry, my car cannot teleport buddy." He apologized ironically. Wooyoung's brain was non-stop functioning to find a solution to be there in time. He could never run to the airport, it's too far away and too dangerous. "Maybe you should call her. Just to say that you are coming." Advised the driver. Of course, he thought about this a thousand of times before, but he knew you would never pick up the phone. You probably deleted his number. Just when he was looking for your contact's number, San called him. ["Where are you? Are you with Y/N?"] ["San, I left 20 minutes ago. How can I be at the airport now?!"] He shouted at the phone before hanging up. "Relax young boy." Chuckled the taxi driver. "If she loves you enough, she won't put a foot in this plane." "The thing is that I don't know if she does." He sighed. "If you knew it before you might know it now. Love never disappear in a night." He looked at Wooyoung by the rearview mirror. The was the last words they exchanged. Wooyoung knew that this old man was right. He was probably the wisest here, so all of his advised were welcomed. But he was still doubting, when he told you that you needed to go apart for some time, you just left without saying anything. Like you knew that it would happen one day. 30 minutes later, the taxi driver stopped in front of the airport entrance. Wooyoung asked him to stay here, and on a brave thought, he promised that he would come back with you. The airport was crowded, Wooyoung would never distinct your face with this amount of people. He stared at all the boarding to see your possible flight number. When the Spain one appeared, he run to the gate, bumping into few people. When he arrived on the Spain gate, he saw only few people there, but not you. He rushed to the girl working for the flight attendance service and asked her. "Hello! Can I just check inside the plane, my girlfriend is here! She can't leave. It will take 1 minute!" "Huh... Mr. Jung Wooyoung?" She hesitated. "Yeah, that's me I know, but can I-" he cut her off, thinking she was a fan. "Mrs. L/N gave us a letter. It's for you." She handed him a green light card. On the top, he noticed your handwriting. Completely forgetting his main mission, he sat on the bench just next to the gate entrance. Dear Wooyoung, When I saw Seonghwa at the mall before leaving, I knew I was screwed. He probably said San that he met me, and San rushed to tell you. Wooyoung smiled, you knew all of them so well. You've might be a little bit confused when he told you that I was leaving. To be honest, I am too. I just couldn't stay here any longer. We've been together for few years already, so it's like having memories everywhere you know. Then, I randomly bought a plane ticket to Spain. I don't even know how to speak Spanish, but people are really nice there and I think I'll learn fast.

He knew that you wouldn't get any problems there anyway. You are so lovely that everyone would want to be friends with you. You had this warm and nice aura that nobody else has. If you read this letter, is that I am probably already in the plane or maybe already in Spain. My heart tells me that you run to me just after Seonghwa gave up and said few information about my flight. You were probably stuck in the traffic because I chose the most annoying flight ever. You rushed there, begging the girl at the entrance to let you go in the plane. And now you are reading this.

More and more Wooyoung was reading, he realized that you were decided to leave. Nobody or nothing could change your mind. His eyes became teary, it became hard to read. Don't blame yourself by saying that you arrived too late. Don't blame yourself for having a great career, but strict rules. We both know that it would be hard. Just enjoy your time with Atiny and the boys. You are doing an amazing job as an idol. Few tears dropped on the letter, messing up with the black ink. Wooyoung dried his eyes before the letter end unreadable. Thank you for loving me at the same time. I know it was hard for you, because of your schedule and because I'm probably the clingiest girl on the earth. But you always managed to bring happiness and love to me. I doubt that someone will love me the same way someday. But I hope someone will love you more than I do. Please don't feel sorry, don't cry. Be happy and always this happy crackhead that I love. Your forever biggest fan, Y/N

P.S.: Because I know all of you so well. Look in front of you. For a second, he thought that you would be the one here. But he saw all the group standing here. Seonghwa and San probably tell the other to join them so they could comfort him. Wooyoung busted in tears, hiding his face under the letter sheet. All the boys rushed around him, patting his back and head, saying that everything would be okay. How everything could be okay if you weren't here anymore? If you loved him so much why did you put a foot in this plane?

#ateez scenarios #ateez reactions #ateez angst #ateez sad #ateez wooyoung #ateez x reader #ateez jung wooyoung #ateez imagines #ateez writings

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hetaliashitpostingftw · 4 years ago

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Hetalia Zoom Masterpost

Tag yourself, who are you most like these days?

ALLIES

America: Dresses up as superman for literally every single meeting. Canada: Actually makes sure his place looks nice and might be the only normal person on this platform except sometimes he forgets video so they forget he’s there :(( China: Accidently screen shares and its revealed that hE uSeS iNtErNeT eXpLoReR France: Is using the direct message function to flirt with England and company. England: Trying to be all British and proper without having his face go scarlet. Russia: He put the camera too close so all you can see is a creepy smile.

AXIS

Germany: SHUT UP EVERYONE OR I WILL MUTE YOU!! (he likes being able to actually shut everyone up smh) Italy: Is constantly singing while on mute or eating elaborate spreads of food. Japan: He pinned someone’s video so he can s t a r e into their soul (and draw it ofc).

BALTICS

Estonia: Playing tetris on another tab like a BOSS Lithuania: Keeping his camera turned off so Russia can’t stare at him because its creepier over the computer Latvia: Trying to pay attention but winds up falling asleep.

EASTERN EUROPE

Romania: Doing some magic b/c it’s not like the can stop him, damnit! Bulgaria: Whittling his stick underneath the camera so he can have it look ✨ 𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓽𝓽𝔂✨ Ukraine: Taking notes but also angled her camera wrong so it’s only the top of her head Belarus: *cutely sharpening knife* Oh, you called? Moldova: Playing outside, Romania told him that he could update when the meeting was done

MEDITERRANEAN EUROPE

Spain: Dancing in the other room and not on the call yet because AYYYYY MACARENA!!! Romano: "SPAIN YOU BASTARD GET ON THE MEETING I WONT TELL YOU ANYTHING IF YOU DONT!” Greece: Calmly staring into the camera and has his pet cat sitting next to him, which is becoming a significant distraction. Turkey: Keeps unmuting himself and adding points because he can Cyprus: Direct messaging Greece: s h o w m o r e ✨ c a t✨ Vatican City: Muted and with his video off b/c he’s also on another meeting for a service. Monaco: Keeps turning her camera off every three seconds to fix her make-up

NORDIC EUROPE

Denmark: Texting Norway about what he wants to do after the meeting is done ;) Sweden: Drawing a little sketch of Finland which he’ll probably hide after. Finland: He unmutes by mistake halfway through and the only thing anyone can hear is the sound of heavy metal bLaStInG. He just sits there smiling. Norway: Not responding to Denmark, yelling at Iceland to get back on the call, and studying his magic books Iceland: uUuUghhhH I dont see why we have to do this its soooo lAmE... *aggressive scrolling on tumblr*

LOW COUNTRIES

Belgium: Keeps direct messaging people compliments after they stop speaking Netherlands: At beginning of meeting: venmo me money and I will supply you with 𝓯𝓲𝓼𝓱 Luxembourg: Sitting there and looking pretty, as well as taking notes like any normal person

CENTRAL EUROPE

Austria: Set his computer on top of the piano so he can play without anyone seeing. Also direct messaging people what they did wrong after they stop speaking Slovakia: Messing around with the cool backgrounds Czechia: Reading. She doesn’t care about the meeting that much. Hungary: Sitting beside Austria on his bench and trying to get him to stop playing for the like, three hours for the meeting Switzerland: Makes a reminder that no one is to bother him, then says nothing. Liechtenstein: Didn’t have to go to the meeting, Swiss is looking out for her. Poland: Painting his nails. Nails are prettier than the meeting anyway. Prussia: Constantly jumping in with his ideas, since he likes to talk anyway and Germany has less of a heart to mute him.

ASIA

Hong Kong: Has his camera off and is texting his South Korea and Iceland. Macau: Taking notes and preparing his rant at Hong Kong later because he isn’t dOiNg WhAt HeS sUpPoSeD tO South Korea: Messing around on snapchat even tho his camera’s still on. Taiwan: Enjoying bubble tea peacefully. Thailand: His camera is on but he’s not there. Vietnam: Keeps asking for help from the host because she can’t figure out how it works. India: Playing with the little figurines of elephants on his desk. He pretends different ones are different countries when they talk.

AFRICA

Egypt: Drawing calligraphy on the whiteboard which may or may not be visible to everyone in the meeting Seychelles: Daydreaming of playing volleyball once she’s able to get outside Cameroon: Shooting rubber bands at the camera and waiting for one to actually hit.

OCEANIA + CARIBBEAN

Australia: Feeding a baby kangaroo. He doesn’t care that it’s a meeting. Kangaroos are important and need love! New Zealand: Didn’t come because he was “busy” (jkjk, he’s sleeping in) Cuba: In constant debate whether or not he should go teleport over to someone else and scare the bejeezus out of them.

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pallasperilous · 4 years ago

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Piledriver

Dean/Castiel 1815 words Post-Episode: s15e18 Despair Coda, Fix-It (sort of), Grief is a weird and protean beast, Second Person POV, but also Dean POV, I realize what a tall order that is y’all but I swear it’s mad judicious {AO3 version}

You’re not really sure when you started doing it.

That’s a fucking lie.

You started doing it ten, maybe twenty minutes after.

Not as a conscious thing, not like those snappy comebacks you think of the next day, or like those speeches you practice in your head and then never get the chance to deliver. (Although it seems like other people have better luck in that regard.)

It’s more like a tic — like the way Sam used to pick at his hand, or your mom used to hum the same little bit of Stairway to Heaven offkey. (Which was kind of a trip since she’d come back from, you know. There.)

You think: I love you, too.

It’s just a drumbeat of syllables running in the back of your head. Might as well be shave and a haircut. Which you could use, incidentally.

It eases off a little, after the universe ticks over. You’re so fucking relieved that you basically revert to a lower life form for awhile �� you’re like a jellyfish, or a fungus, or a Yankees fan. For a few minutes there, things are pretty sweet.

Then the clock starts running again, and you and Sam are faced with the frankly fucked-up necessity of needing a hot meal and somewhere to pee.

It kicks back in then — during the peeing, specifically, because goddamn did the dude never get over what a fucking nightmare it is to have a bladder. Like it actually made him mad. Even after he got his batteries back and was once more able to, like, effervesce fluids out of his body or teleport them to the surface of Mars or whatever, he never stopped giving you pitying looks whenever he got up to use the can. On the road he’d ask if anybody needed a bathroom break at every single freeway exit. You chewed him out once that you in fact were not a four year-old or an Alzheimer’s patient and could therefore hold it for more than twenty minutes at a time, and he looked at you with such bottomless patience and empathy that you could’ve thrown him out of the fucking car. I love you too.

Instead of a heartbeat, it’s like a piledriver hitting the ground ten feet away.

I love you too. It rattles your fucking thighs as you wash your hands in the gas station bathroom. None of the other dudes do because dudes are fucking disgusting. This attitude was maybe part of the problem.

I love you too. You come out and the car’s moved and you have a hot second of freakout, then you see Sam’s just pulled it away from the pump and parked in the lot and honest to God (go team!) you almost burst into tears. What the fuck.

I love you, too.

That night you do your absolute best to lobotomize yourself (not to obliterate yourself, which is a sign of progress and for which effort you absolutely deserve a round of applause from…somebody), but the piledriver just keeps on pounding away and you realize that it’s either piledrive or get piledriven. Sam’s asleep six feet away after his own inpatient procedure but you’re really fucking starting to panic so you say it out loud, anyway.

I love you, too.

And something gives, eases off like a gas bubble turning a corner in your gut, and you pass out.

So you lean into it. You make it your thing. You figure you can either be losing your mind, or practicing, so you choose practicing. You’re showing the powers that be that you’re keeping the faith. You’re holding a torch. You’re being the change you want to see in the world. You’ve talked to coma patients before and you’ve prayed to this asshole before and this isn’t any different. Isn’t it?

Washing the dishes: I love you, too.

Checking the oil: I love you, too.

Swinging a machete and hitting that sweet spot between vertebrae where the head just pops right off, like a Lego dude: I love you, too.

Pulling on socks: I love you, too.

Burning that fucking jacket: I love you, too.

Not out loud, or at least, not where anybody can hear you. That would be weird.

And you know, you know, that he doesn’t hear you, either. You know that, worst of all, he didn’t even need to hear it. You’ve heard a lot of shit about unconditional love, but it’s never had any goddamn appeal to you because, what? Somebody loves you the same no matter what fucked up shit you do, no matter how you feel about them?

That’s either (a) some seriously poisoned Kool-Aid or (b) so huge it’s useless, like giving somebody a galaxy for their birthday. You want unconditional love? Get a fucking dog.

I love you, too.

Lately you’ve been swapping in phrases that have the same rhythm or meter or whatever, so you can say them out loud without worrying anybody more than usual. The rain in Spain does some heavy lifting for a couple weeks, then ba-DUMP-bump, tissshh! followed by the king of beers for about half a particularly shitty afternoon and then closing out with you bet your ass, which is a much better fit for your lifestyle.

So fine, great. Life goes on. You were the subject of his unconditional cosmic love-boner whatever and getting that off his chest was all he needed to go happily fucking off into the abyss. And you’re still down here (up here? over here?), drinking coffee and hating Mondays. Awesome. I love you, too.

This is around when you discover the best match for both meter and tone yet, one so close that it doesn’t even feel like a placebo for the real phrase. It’s a whole different drug, actually. It makes you feel like a million bucks, it’s absolute rocket fuel. If the original is whiskey, this shit is meth. You turn a whole nest of ghouls into one big ghoul smoothie and then at the bar later somebody nervously informs you that you were yelling it out loud the whole damn time.

The phrase is: go fuck yourself.

You imagine it at night, lying in the empty bed, your pulse hammering in time: him standing there, one big cow-eyed khaki rumple, and you yell: Go fuck yourself. You asshole. You bastard. You smug piece of shit. Go fuck yourself. How many times have we done this, and every fucking time you find a way to make it worse. Go fuck yourself.

I love you, too.

After a few weeks it loses its edge. You kinda knew it would, having some experience with the limits of amphetamines and your own rage-juice glands. It downgrades from a battle-cry to a slur. At some point you realize you’re not even saying it to him anymore. You’re saying it to you. Go fuck yourself.

You try to imagine him saying it instead. Go fuck yourself, in that nutso Sam the Eagle voice that he must’ve gotten out of a box of Cracker Jacks, because it sure didn’t come complimentary with Jimmy Novak’s dry-ass mouth. Go fuck yourself, Dean.

Somehow it’s still the nicest thing anybody’s ever said to you.

So you go back to the OG version, and this time it feels like it settles in. You do whatever the psychological equivalent is of buying it a dog bed and a food dish and a leash, and you take it out for walkies whenever it starts to chew on the furniture. I love you, too.

You get so used to its presence that sometimes you even forget it’s there. You’re joking around with Sam, eating sandwiches at some picnic grounds on the way to Sioux Falls for a social visit, and you say some dumb thing to him, who knows about what. Sam rolls his eyes and shakes his head in disgust as required by the kid brother certification board and snorts “I love you, man,” in the way that means how are you even allowed to exist, and you answer “I love you, too,” in the way that means I love you, too.

Sam has seen a lot of wild shit, but the look on his face after that is a brand new one to you.

“Checkmate, asshole,” you say, in case he’s worried you’re gonna off yourself in the bathroom or something.

You do get to say it, eventually.

Like most things in life, it happens after you’ve totally given up, and then totally given up giving up, and have achieved the spiritual equivalent of that shrug emoji Claire sends you sometimes. When the phrase is well past thinking about, when the words don’t even carry any meaning anymore; they’re like the thought version of blinking, or swallowing. A background process, until something flies into your eyeball or you try to breathe a tortilla chip.

So the tortilla chip shows up one day. Don’t worry too much about the details here, just take it for granted that it either required a heroic effort of years that nearly broke you, or that he just showed up unsolicited on the porch like a copy of The Watchtower. Or maybe you’re both dead; seriously, who cares, because regardless — he’s there, and you’re there, and for awhile other people are there too, but eventually they go away.

And it’s him, and it’s you. And if you hadn’t absolutely digested this thing in advance, if you hadn’t broken each word down into its atomic particles and cut and pasted them into your DNA so that 45th century forensic anthropologists from Mars could extract it from a fragment of the the mummified marrow of your left ass-bone, you might’ve said something else.

You said: “I love you, too.”

You realize, in the moment after you say it, that you have reached the limits of your preparations. You’re a samurai with a single move; you’re the cannon in the 1812 Overture; your photo’s in the dictionary under one-trick pony and you’ve got frosted tips and you’re blinking.

You say it again, and then a third time, and a lot of times after that. You keep saying it, for years, in varying degrees of franticness and horniness and happiness and honestly still-fucking-angriness and whatever else is on special that week. You say it to his face and to his dick and to his back and to the mere concept of him well after he’s left the room, left the state, left the dimension. Eventually you stop bothering to say anything else to each other. There are maybe half a million words in your native language, according to Sam, who uses them all, and with everybody else you keep on using the two hundred or so you feel confident about.

But with Castiel, you make do with just the four.

I love you.

I love you, too.

#spn fanfiction #destiel #deancas #spn 15x18 #spn 15x19 #spn spoilers #pallas perilous fic #fixit fic #15x18 coda

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mrssarablack · 4 years ago

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1. What’s your sexual orientation?

Heterosexual.

2. What are you obsessed with right now?

Hmm, I really don't know. I have my usual things that would qualify but my "obsessions" but they don't often consume me to a high degree, so I have a hard time dubbing anything I like a full blown obsession.

That being said, it's probably tiktok. The obsession of the moment, I find myself on the app entirely too much because it's just a fun party and oh the things that lead to little research dives are fascinating. Mostly it's the musicians that get me. I love creativity and am forever amazed by the collaborations and straight magic people make in the time allotted... but it takes up way too much of my time when it really shouldn't. I have better things I could be doing.

3. Ever done any drugs?

Yup.

4. What piercings do you want?

None. My ears are pierced to the degree I like and I don't really desire anything else to be pierced.

5. How many people have you kissed?

Enough.

6. Describe your dream home.

The house I live in outdoes anything I could possibly come up with. I'm very happy with my home, but I'd be happy most anywhere. If I'm honest, I'm a bit Aladdin-like when it comes to living arrangements. My dream home list, if I only considered myself, is the very low bar of a roof over my head that has a beautiful view. Bonus it has a pool but it's not a requirement.

Clearly, where I live outdoes that by a longshot and I'm very lucky to have the things I have. I'm not unaware of that fact.

7. Who are you jealous of?

There is no way for this not to sound like a humble brag in my head, but no one. I've never been the jealous type. There's so much unnecessary energy in wanting what someone else has and jealousy is a negative you just don't need in your life. It's much better to focus on your own joy and not worry about what others are doing.

8. What’s your favorite show to binge?

Schitt's Creek

9. Do you watch porn?

I have.

10. Do you have a secret sideblog?

No, I don't.

11. If you could teleport anywhere in the world right now, where would you go?

I don't know, I'm good, but somewhere warm and with a beach, I guess?

12. What’s one of your fantasies?

I really only have one and that's of my mother apologizing for what she did.

13. Do you have/would you get your nipples pierced?

Nope.

14. How would you spend a million dollars?

I probably wouldn't.

15. Are you in a relationship?

Yes

16. Do you follow porn blogs?

No, but I'm pretty sure some have followed me...🙄

17. Are you angry with anyone right now?

My mother. It ebbs and flows between anger and indifference. Depends on the thoughts I'm having surrounding the why of it.

18. What tattoos do you want?

I don't want any.

19. If you could change your name, would you? What would you change it to?

Maybe? But probably not. I don't particularly like my name. It's kind of dull, if I'm honest, but at the same time it's my name and I don't have a replacement in my head for it. So, I'm Sara and I'll forever be Sara. It's alright.

20. What is something you’re obsessed with?

I already answered this, but I suppose my general obsession is pokemon. I like the games and the lore. The whole thing is fun and I enjoy it a lot.

21. Describe your best friend.

She's like sunshine. She's bubbly and sweet. Anna has optimism for days. She can be a little naive but people also see naivety in what is actually her stubbornness. She won't give up on people even if she should. She sees good in almost everything but she isn't unaware that bad exists.

And because of this her kindness shines. She'd help a stranger without hesitation or a need for anything back. She very much is a person who would stick her neck out to save a life. She brings out the best in people and makes it look effortless. She is kind and caring but has a determination that can tackle damn near anything that becomes an obstacle. Anna's a force to reckon with and not many people realize this truth.

22. Tag someone you think is hot.

@nikolascblack

Did you really think I'd pick someone else?

23. Who are five of your favorite bands/musical artists?

This list alternates with moods. I love so many bands and artists. But right now the top five are:

Nikolas Black

AJR

The Beatles

Ok One Rock

P!nk

24. What are three places you want to travel?

I really am that person if given the chance to just pick a plane and go I'd probably take it. I just want to experience all the places so here are the first regions that came to mind...

Italy (like all of it)

Spain/ Barcelona

South of France

25. Describe your perfect Friday night.

It's getting warmer so, right now, it's an evening with Nikolas on our back patio. Fire up the grill and enjoy a meal outdoors. Maybe spend some time in the pool. End the evening with a warm blanket and a cuddle.

26. What’s your favorite season?

Summer. My skin may take issue with the sun but I like it best when it's warm and sunny and being outside.

27. What’s your pet peeve?

When I am listening to music… I probably don't want to talk to you. Leave me alone. I do not like when I'm interrupted when my music is on.

Also, if I'm doing art or sewing … be aware I might get snippy if you choose to interrupt my flow. I like reaching stopping points before I'm asked to change gears.

28. Who is the funniest person you know?

Probably Jakub. He's the king of one liners and his sass gets me.

29. What’s the most overrated movie?

I'd say Avatar, was not impressed by space Pocahontas….

30. Tag someone you want to talk to but have been too shy to message.

... um... I'm not really the shy type. If I wanna get to know someone.... I'm going to be friendly to them and start a conversation.

31. Do you like paper books or ebooks better?

Paper books but I do register I read more electronic ones. The library system is nice in that format… when I actually finish a book. I don't read that fast so I have like 3 waitlisted at any given time three or four times over just so I can finish it … 😅

32. If you could live in a fictional world, what world would you pick?

Pokemon?

33. If money was no object, what would your wardrobe be like?

I dislike questions that make me feel like I'm bragging. Or that could be seen as such but my wardrobe wouldn't really change because my boyfriend allows me to use his funds from time to time to have the nicer clothing items I like. Which sit right alongside my jeans I got from TJ Maxx. Legitimately, it probably wouldn't change at all.

34. What’s your coffee order?

Cold brew or if it's cold I typically, latte it's usually a hazelnut

35. Do you have a crush on anyone?

No.

36. Do you still have feelings for any of your exes?

I don't. Most of them were pretty shit people. So, yeah… nope, I don't think much on them at all really.

37. Have any tattoos?

38. Do you drink?

Occasionally

39. Are you a virgin?

Heh… no.

40. Do you have a crush on any of your mutuals?

Nope

41. How many followers do you have?

Um… I have no idea. Not many that's for sure.

42. Describe the hottest person you know.

I did this once. I'm not going to objectify him again. So instead:

43. What’s your guilty pleasure?

True crime documentaries or horror movies. I do not watch them often. Nikolas isn't into it and I'm not going to be the ass that takes the tv and makes him watch something he doesn't like. So, I save it for when I am alone.

44. Do you read erotica?

I have but I don't seek it out. Typically the erotica I have read has been tucked away in a romance novel and was far more than I expected it to go from the synopsis or anything before that point.

45. What’s the worst date you’ve ever been on?

I have to go with the one where it was clear he asked me out as some sort of revenge date. His ex-girlfriend was at the location with friends and he kept looking over at her trying to see her reaction. It was bad and I dismissed myself as quickly as I could.

46. How many people do you follow?

Again, I don't know. I know it's mostly friends and artists or designers but I'm too lazy to look up the number because I don't care.

47. If you could marry any celebrity, who would you pick?

This guy right here:

48. Describe your ideal partner.

There's a theme here...

49. Who do you text the most?

Anna? Our friend text line is usually an all day back and forth.

50. What’s your favorite kind of weather?

Sunny and warm. Weather that screams "beach day"

#sara reynolds #random questions #bored #been a while since ive done this #oc #roleplay

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residentraccoon · 4 years ago

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✨ esc 2020 top ✨

If only we didn't had corona... 😔😔💔 F

Love them!!

1. Lithuania - my winner of this year by a landslide 💖

2. Switzerland - i'm living for that melancholic athmosphere

3. Bulgaria - hauntingly beautiful, no words needed, so serene and soothing

4. Norway - simply heavenly

5. Denmark - cheerful campfire song

6. Iceland - jamming along to that 80s electro sound

7. Israel - amharic at esc!!

8. Romania - the title represents us romanians the best

9. Italy - got teary eyed when I listened to this the first time

10. Sweden - that harmony, you go queens!! <3

11. Ukraine - ukraine send go_a every year challenge

12. Australia - clown ballerina

13. Belarus - my guilty pleasure of that year

Liked them!!

16. Malta - her better entry, gospel vibes

14. Greece - what disney sitcom is this? wholesome 💖💖

15. Germany - a great pop track I can say

17. Belgium - hypnotic, luka should return solo

18. Finland - that message made me cry, underrated

19. Azerbaijan - cliopATRRRRRA

20. Poland - best vocalist of that year, no question

21. Netherlands - this would have broken the host country bottom 5 curse </3

22. Slovenia - vod(k)a

23. Ireland - pop rock queen

24. Armenia - love her attitude, athena for 2022

25. Portugal - so dreamy 😔

26. Spain - catchy and the mv is so sparkly

27. Serbia - not as good as loco loco imo

28. Austria - austrian bruno mars

29. UK - too short, but it's good nonetheless

They're good

30. Albania - without the revamp it would have been much higher :(

33. San Marino - suddenly we got teleported in the 70s

31. North Macedonia - love the tango elements but that's it

32. Latvia - she's both a composer and queen of the night

35. Moldova - pretty nice but kinda goes nowhere

34. Czech Republic - i remember the 2453 revamps it had lolol

36. Cyprus - liked it the first time, then forgot about it after a while

Not my thing

37. Russia - quirky but not my style

38. Croatia - nice but a lil boring, at least it's in croatian

39. Georgia - aye too screamy for me :(((

40. France - denmark's 2014 songtitle (aka cliche love song)

41. Estonia - denmark's 2014 songtitle but dated

#top of each year

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michelles-garden-of-evil · 5 years ago

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Episode 25 Review: The No-No Generation

{ YouTube: 1 | 2 }

{ Full Synopses/Recaps: Debby Graham | Bryan Gruszka }

{ Screencaps }

Welcome back to my Garden of Evil, where I analyze and snark on Strange Paradise for fun and...well, just fun, really. This week, we will conclude our deep dive into Week 5 with a review of Friday’s episode, in which THE DEVIL JACQUES ELOI DES MONDES continues his seduction of Elizabeth Marshall while inside the body of Jean Paul Desmond.

Night on Maljardin. As Jean Paul drinks in the Great Hall and lightning flashes outside, Raxl draws tarot cards in the Not-So-Hidden Temple of the Serpent.

Here are the cards that she pulls, flipped upside-down to show them from her perspective:

We know from previous episodes that the Knight of Coins/Pentacles is Dan and the Queen of Cups represents one of the women on Maljardin (Matt believes it to be Holly, but he could be wrong). We have also seen the King of Wands used to represent Jean Paul before, but King of Cups arguably fits him better because his constant wallowing in self-pity is a negative water/cups trait. The Queen of Wands represents a woman who plays a supporting, managerial role (sounds like Alison). The Page of Coins is a young person who is observing and learning how to make it in the world (could be Tim or Holly).

The rest probably don't represent specific characters, but instead relate to the situation. The Justice card means exactly what its name implies. Ten of Wands "represents an all-out effort, an obsessive commitment to a task which demands everything you've got.” The Seven of Wands normally refers to a situation where confrontation and daring are necessary, but it is reversed here, suggesting failure, defeat, and even scandal; this seems to imply that Jean Paul will be defeated and/or that his activities on Maljardin will cause the scandal that he fears. The Eight of Coins is about workaholism and may have to do with anyone currently working on Maljardin (Raxl, Quito, Alison, Tim, or Matt).

The Five of Cups is an interesting card: it might refer to the impending losses on Maljardin or to any variety of negative emotions, but it is also associated with "Inheritance, suggesting the cross-generational legacy of such tragedies." This reminds me of the parallels between the events so far and what we know of the Maljardin of the 17th century: the deaths of Jean Paul's and Jacques' wives, the seduction of their wives' sisters, the priestess resembling Elizabeth who sacrifices Holly in her dream. In early Maljardin and in the Lost Episodes, Ian Martin consistently drew parallels between the events of 1689 and 1969, so the intended meaning of "cross-generational legacy" seems highly likely.

Also, for those of you wondering, Vangie’s tarot cards in the next scene appear to be the same, just arranged in a different spread. I say “appear” because it’s hard to tell with the lighting and video quality if they are the same cards, although logically they should be.

"If my father's gift is strong in me and if the Great Serpent so wills it," she prays, "may I be lifted to the ancient temple to help in the fight against evil." She lies down in her bed to attempt to teleport herself there and we cut back to the Great Hall.

In the Great Hall, Jean Paul argues with Jacques. Their dialogue somehow sounds even more forced than Jacques’ line about the time clock two episodes ago:

Jacques: "You're very quiet tonight, but not Mother Nature. I wonder what's disturbing her so?" Jean Paul: "Maybe you are. Maybe she's declaring war on all demons." Jacques: "Wooing and warring, a family heritage." [An odd thing to say in this context.] Jean Paul: "I could do without the family heritages and ancestors like you!" [And an equally odd response.] Jacques: "Do without me and you may be doing without yourself. Who knows? You and I could well be one and the same." Jean Paul: "I am NOT a devil!"

Jacques: "Self-declaration, self-incrimination--and don't drink so much. It dulls the senses."

Backacting with the portrait again, I see.

So we get another hint that Jean Paul and Jacques may be the same man, with a very forced-sounding exchange leading up to it that Martin definitely could have written better. Jean Paul gets ready to throw his glass at the portrait (as one does), but can’t because Quito enters with some ice for the next six gin and tonics that he probably originally planned on downing that night.

*Jacques voice* Jean Paul Desmond, has no one ever taught you that people in stone houses shouldn't throw glass? Tsk, tsk…

And now that plan is ruined, too, because Holly comes down the steps and complains to him that she can’t sleep because she keeps having nightmares. (She doesn’t say what about, so I’m going to assume they have to do with either her father or Tarasca again.) Jean Paul offers her some sherry “to sleep and not to dream,” and she responds that the line was one of her father’s favorites from Shakespeare. No, Holly. It’s “to sleep, perchance to dream” not “to sleep and not to dream,” but you were close.

Jean Paul reveals that he, too, couldn’t sleep because of nightmares. “I guess even possessions don’t make a man sleep easy,” Holly replies and, without warning, the portrait disappears and Jacques enters the chat:

Look! The crew actually remembered to remove the portrait this time!

He’s giving her the poison Jean Paul took from the lab!

Holly tells him about how her mother wants to steal her inheritance, and how she intends on taking as much as she can from her in return. (Does that mean you want Jean Paul, too, Holly? Never mind, of course you do.)

Would that be with a W or with a B?

I suspect that Holly wouldn’t know any different.

Meanwhile, on the stairs above, Elizabeth silently observes. But she doesn’t just observe. She observes while wearing a fur-trimmed velvet nightgown and striking a dramatic evil diva pose. As one does.

Wah-wah-WAH-wah-wah...*fade to black*

After the commercial break, Elizabeth overhears Jacques telling Holly that she may learn to love her, because “one who hates can also love.” (Take it from Jacques Eloi des Mondes, murderer and lover extraordinaire.)

“I'm sure my daughter will make an army of fortune-hunters very happy when she does learn,” she, a fortune-hunter herself, interjects. Looking thrilled to see the lovely Tarasca, Jacques welcomes her and offers her a drink:

Jacques: “Some cyanide, perhaps, fresh from the lab?”

Just kidding. It isn’t cyanide; Mrs. Marshall is too much fun for Jacques to kill off, especially this early on. Holly leaves to drink alone in her room and Jacques and Elizabeth get ready to drink to the fact that they’re no longer children, when Holly freaks out over Quito. It turns out he was trying to guard her from the Devil, which amuses dear Jacquet immensely.

You’re so vain, you probably make toasts about you.

After Holly returns to her room, Elizabeth laments the woman “child” Holly become after the death of her father. “Ever since her father died, virtually overnight, she changed from a sweet, shy child into an impossible shrew,” she sneers. “We were really a very happy family before.”

“Holly told me that you did lots of things together, that you traveled a great deal,” says Jacques.

“Yes, of course.” she responds, “Even then, there were signs. The winter before last, she refused to go on vacation with us, wanted to spend Christmas in the cold snow instead of the warm sand. So we went on without her, but, of course, she ruined the trip for us.”

Holly must have had a good reason to stay home in the dreary winter weather rather than go on vacation with her parents; I say that because I, too, am from the north and I, personally, would kill to spend Christmas somewhere warm or at least not snowy. Either that, or Holly is a romantic, holding a sentimentalized view of white Christmases with treetops glistening and children listening to hear sleigh bells in the snow. If that is the case, then...well...I guess it’s nice that she likes snow, because I sure as hell don’t. But really, I’m sure Holly had a damn good reason to avoid Elizabeth.

This is the perfect time to post some photos of Elizabeth’s incredible nightgown. It’s so luxurious, so decadent, so...her.

“How unfortunate,” Jacques responds insincerely.

“Couldn’t we change the topic of conversation from the No-No Generation? I’m very bored with their beads and bells and songs of love.”

The No-No Generation? Now, there’s a name for the Baby Boomers that I’ve never heard elsewhere. Google, too, seems unfamiliar with it: a search for “no-no generation” (with quotes) mostly turns up chemistry papers about nitric oxide. Subtract these and you get only a few more relevant results, one of which is this meme from June 30 of this year. A search for “‘no-no generation’ boomers” yields this cached page mentioning “a vibrant No-No generation in the wake of the 1968 Paris uprising” but that term appears to mostly refer to French rock musicians of the 1960s and 1970s, judging by this other use of the term on the site and this CD listing on another.[1] Considering the dearth of relevant English-language sources using the phrase and considering that Holly isn’t a musician as far as we know, Martin may have come up with the term on his own.

There’s the question of why Elizabeth calls Holly’s generation the “the No-No Generation.” No rules (which, arguably, better describes Generation X)? No interest in the traditions and codes that her and Jean Paul’s generation follow? (Laslo and Irene in the second Desmond Hall arc criticize the Baby Boomers, especially Susan, for that.) No work and no higher education, like the current use of the term in Spain and Brazil? The fact that Holly just didn’t want to go on vacation with her two years earlier? Or, perhaps, all of the above? I’m going to guess all of the above. All the options fit Holly.

So we have learned that Elizabeth disdains Holly’s generation because of their love songs. Even Jacques is taken aback by this, because it implies that she doesn’t believe in love, but she assures him that it’s different because “you and I are old enough to make our own rules.” He gives her a knowing look--as though he knows exactly how old she really is--and places his beringed hand on her shoulder.

That nightgown looks so soft.

Down in the Not-So-Hidden Temple, we pick up right where we left off with Raxl praying to the Serpent for Vangie’s arrival. Before her eyes, the Conjure Woman Chromakeys into the chamber right on top of the Tarot cards, her arms stretching upward:

Weird.

By some miracle, Vangie climbs off the altar without screwing up Raxl’s Tarot spread. But she’s not pleased about arriving on Maljardin where she predicts that she will die, and so she demands to know why Raxl summoned her there. Um, Vangie, don’t you remember earlier in the episode--perhaps minutes before in show time--when you prayed to the Serpent to transport you there? You’re like someone who passes through the turnstile at a metro station, then changes their mind a second later.

While all this is going on, Jacques gleefully drops hint after hint of his true identity:

I’m not sure how much of this is for the audience’s benefit and how much of it is because Jacques thinks everyone else is dumb.

Tarasca: (thinking) “And my name isn’t Elizabeth Marshall.”

We also get this possible shout-out to Dark Shadows:

Back down in the Not-So-Hidden Temple, Vangie helps Raxl interpret the Tarot cards. “Our spirits will be fused through the Tarot cards and the pentagram,” Vangie says. (What was in that tea/potion that Raxl gave her?) Their spirits fused, they try to make sense of the cards’ message:

Raxl: "Do you see what the cards say?" Vangie: "I see two protectors, Matthew Dawson and Dan Forrest."

I assume that the cards she's referencing are the Fool and the Knight of Pentacles, as in previous episodes.

Raxl: *points to Queen of Cups* "But they are not as strong as this one." Vangie: "Who is she?" Raxl: "I cannot tell. Your powers of the cards are much stronger than mine."

They join hands and concentrate on a flame to determine the identity of the Queen of Cups. And then her image appears:

Raxl: "The witch is not..." Vangie: "Yes! The mother of the blonde child, Elizabeth Marshall! Watch her carefully, Raxl. She’s dangerous."

It's odd that Elizabeth of all people should be represented by the upright Queen of Cups, as the descriptions that I’ve read for the card tell of someone with almost the exact opposite personality. According to Tarot.com, this Queen is "a sensitive, vulnerable, omniscient woman who offers unconditional love. She is supremely empathic -- sometimes to a fault. Her caring nature exposes her to everybody else's emotions and needs." Sounds more like Jean Paul’s and Alison’s descriptions of Erica to me, save for the “omniscient” part (which I don’t think is meant to be taken literally).

What’s ironic is that, if the Queen of Cups were reversed, the card would fit Elizabeth well. This page on The Tarot Guide mentions "insecurity, lack of trust…self-centred…smothering, bitter, vengeful, manipulative, spiteful, [and] disloyal” as the reversed Queen’s characteristics. Now that sounds more like the Elizabeth Marshall I know. I suspect that the Queen of Cups was intended to be reversed and its upright position is a blooper.

In the Great Hall, Elizabeth goes to bed and, after some surprisingly not-silly headache faces, Jacques de-possesses Jean Paul. In truth, I’m a little disappointed that he doesn’t clench his teeth or look like he’s about to vomit this time, because I find Colin Fox’s over-the-top headache faces funny. This time, Jean Paul apparently forced him out of his body himself, although how he accomplished this is not explained.

And what exactly did you do, Jean Paul, to force him back into the frame?

Although I know all episodes of this show were rushed to some extent, this one with its abundance of script continuity errors shows more signs of hasty writing than the others. Ironically, they actually remembered to remove Jacques’ portrait from the frame this time when he possesses Jean Paul, which is shocking. Still, despite the rushed-ness of this one, it has provided me with a lot of interesting material to dissect in my deep dive into the bizarre world of Strange Paradise.

Coming up next: Dan and Alison continue their investigation of Erica’s death and Jacques obsesses over a possibly symbolic fish. Also stay tuned for the Bad Subtitle Special for Week 5 next week.

{ <- Previous: Episode 24 || Next: Episode 26 -> }

Notes

[1] In France, the term “Génération non non” more often refers to French Millennials of Middle Eastern and African descent who live in the impoverished suburbs or banlieue of French cities. It was popularized in the 2006 song “La Boulette (Génération nan nan)” by French rapper Diam’s.

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imaginethebeautifulworld · 6 years ago

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How would Canada, Prussia, and Romano handle every country but theirs dying? And the micronations. Asking since I'm writing a fanfic, and it's set in the future with time shenanigans. [And yes, america dies, italy, Russia, Germany, everyone but those three and the micronations since they're so small]

Hello, lovely!

This ask took me a bit to warm up to; Hetalia is my happy-go-lucky escapist fandom, but the more I thought about this, the more my own curiosity was piqued.

I took the liberty of assuming this was sort of a “sudden death” scenario, and that the lads find out the Others are missing at relatively the same times. I also tried to be optimistic, and I apologize if some of it is unrealistic.

Hope this is sufficient, and perhaps inspires you in your future writing ventures!

Lovi and Gil knew immediately that their brothers were gone.

Lovino felt the hegemony fall to his shoulders as he was watching the sunrise, sitting on a dock with his feet under the water. He was immediate rage, cursing any name he could think of for the responsibilities now falling to him, for daring to take away someone so young.

Gilbert, on the other hand, knew as he was brushing his teeth, bright pink bubbles swirling down the drain as he simply collapsed into himself, crumbling to the floor. “I was supposed to go first. Not you. Never you.”

Matthew was the first one to reorganize, take charge of the situation. With all major world powers gone, Canada was now the leader of what remained of the Free World, and he took his duty very seriously. Having been in Berlin already for a meeting, he hunted down the remainder of Germany, dragging the eerily quiet Gil along with him to find any others.

Mattie played the strong one, keeping a stiff upper lip throughout the first few weeks of the crisis. It’s not until he goes back to his house and sees one of America’s stray Converse and Mexico’s favourite hoodie that he completely breaks down.

The humans are in chaos, the global economy having crashed, and a large majority of them now gone. There is panic of an epidemic, of a possible apocalypse, with looting and strong alliances forming between any survivors.

It has been three weeks.

Gil remains stiff and silent, though he does consent to food, sleep, and bathing. Lovino hovers near him in case the idiot tries to do something foolhardy when he finally overcomes the shock.

Italy, what is left of Italy, ties with what remains of Germany for second in strength in this new world. Lovino keeps a stern face, greets each minute of regrowth with a solemnity that Feli and Toni would have teased him endlessly for. When Marcello bursts through the meeting doors one evening with news about refugees, he nearly loses his composure; Seborga looks more like Veneziano than Romano ever cared to admit.

The panic has mostly settled, and an eerie sense of calm and faux normalcy hangs in the air for humanity. There is no real normalcy- Most continue trying to determine if their loved ones are still alive, many don’t return to work, some carry on as if they had no interruptions.

After months of debate, Rome is once more declared the centre of the world, and Lovino and Marcello move permanently into their family home. Many of the micronations soon join them, adopting Ladonia’s preferred communication strategy of staying in touch digitally.

Lovino takes on his new responsibilities easily. He’s lost half his population before, led empires before, been at the centre of the universe before. So long as he keeps himself busy, he can ignore the missing sarcasm, ignore the missing “Fuck!” tossed around every five minutes. The big house is almost filled to capacity; it still feels too empty.

It has been two years, and Humanity is working together to connect everyone who remains to a proper global network. In times of distress, everyone comes together.

Most migrate nearer to the micronations, seek out shelter in one of the three main remaining nations. But there are some who refuse to leave their homes, and efforts are made to ensure everyone has access to medicine, electricity, and clean water.

There is more progress now, with no real economy to stop it.

Gilbert remains quiet, though he observes everything. He signs whatever forms need his attention, acknowledges any issues to be addressed. But he can’t help thinking that it should be Freidrich or Ludwig here, that they should both be here.

He misses his inside jokes with England, with Scotland. He misses raising hell with France and Spain and Denmark. He misses shit-talking with Japan, Belgium’s bounding energy, Seychelle’s fierce optimism. All gone, with the survivors trying to build a new world order out of the ashes.

Ten years, and Mattie officially moves in with Lovino. Castel Sant’Angelo has once more been renovated- now into a central home, with more than enough space for every representative to keep their own room. Mattie just shrugs when Lovi raises a brow at his luggage. “It was too quiet, and someone has to keep you in line.”

It has been twenty years; Gil still has yet to speak.

Several attempts have been made to create some form of economy. Each was shot down.

Humanity, now interconnected more than ever, has resumed interest in teleportation and space travel.

Twenty-five years, and everyone now understands at least three languages.

Thirty years, and Mattie sometimes swears he can see Ukraine keeping watch over the garden.

Thirty-five years, and Lovino and Marcello are thick as thieves. Seborga is finally as deadly a shot as Romano, and Lovi has started to embrace his more childish ways at his brother’s encouragement.

Forty years, and two of the Big Three are arguing over which Grecian deity most closely fits them. Lovino insists there is no way he could be Zeus, just as there’s no way in hell Mattie could ever qualify as Poseidon. The debate could have raged for hours, but a dark scowl from the unanimously voted Hades left them both feeling too sheepish to continue.

On the forty-fifth anniversary, Lovino snuck off to the north, taking a boat to explore what still remained of Venezia.

Fifty years later, and the first person to Mars smiled for the camera. In a dialect birthed after the Great Disappearance, she sent love to her family, and made a small speech about progress and adventure and all the hopes for the future.

Millions of miles away, from a small kitchen in the Black Forest, a grainy television delivers the message to a soul older than comprehension. The words sank in, the phantom of a firm hand resting on his shoulder. “We will continue to rebuild, and we will grow stronger.”

For the first time in decades, Prussia smiled.

Fifty-seven years, and no one questioned why Matthew is completely smashed during the first two weeks of July.

Sixty-three years, and Mattie was trying to dig Prussia, Sealand, Wy, and Hong Kong out of a mud pit, cursing up a storm as the four continue to throw more earth at their rescuer’s head.

After eighty-six years, Gil has stopped wearing black. He came to breakfast with a vintage white t-shirt that read “Spread Pages, Not Legs (the ace agenda)” across the front, and Mattie nearly choked on his orange juice before he finished reading.

One century later, and no humans are left alive that can remember the Great Disappearance, the only recounts in history books. The world has rebuilt, and the people have learned to move on.

The micronations have grown into their power, now hosting monthly meetings to discuss policy, agenda, progress, shipping- All the things that society needs to function.

Missing from today’s meeting are the three eldest nations, who had left early in the morning without a word. No one is sure where to find them, where they could be. They’re not gone though, so there is relief.

It is 5 am local time. The sun will be rising soon.

Matthew murmurs a chant, golden glow slipping past his lips and circling around the small trio. Lovino harmonizes with his own sounds, some deep, dark, and inexplicably ancient rasping coating each syllable, cold air tying itself to the dancing lights. Gilbert watches on for a moment, holding in his hand a pile of letters and Alisdair’s old lighter, waiting. The moment comes, and he sets the papers ablaze.

The winds of Lovi’s spellwork and the control in Mattie’s ensures not a speck of ash will hit the ground, and all three watch as their words fly up, disappearing in seemingly midair.

They wait until they are satisfied, then begin the hike back to their car, parked on the old A303, Mattie nearly tripping as Gil rushes past him, desperately trying to beat Lovi in their impromptu race. The Canadian snickers quietly as both of them fall in the process, underestimating the steepness of the hill. Taking the initiative, he rushes past them, outright cackling at the outraged squawks of protest behind him.

None of them see the hazy figure sitting atop the bluestone, smiling softly before fading away.

The world is finally at peace.

And one addition, in case anyone was curious:

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mythicallore · 6 years ago

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Bizarre Stories of Teleportation

Teleportation, to move over vast distances within the blink of an eye, has captured our imagination and remained a fixture of science fiction stories for years. Moving from one place to another instantaneously has an irresistible allure to it, and indeed has moved out past the boundaries of fiction to be seriously pursued by science in recent years. Yet are there those out there who have already somehow achieved this amazing feat through means beyond our current understanding? If some truly bizarre and mind-bending reports are to be believed, the answer to this question would be yes. These are cases that in some form or another seem to suggest the possibility that human teleportation may not only be possible but has already occurred, be it through interdimensional portals, mysterious doorways through perhaps the fabric of reality itself, somehow bending the rules of physics as we know them, or through some other strange force that we cannot even begin to fathom.

Stories of people mysteriously teleporting go back surprisingly far back into history and continue right up into the modern day. Some of the earliest accounts appear to have a rather folkloric or religious quality to them but are intriguing nevertheless. In the Bible there are many references to people traveling vast distances instantaneously, often said to be swiftly carried along by angels, and there are other early accounts of teleportation, such as the 1st century philosopher and physician Apollonius of Tyana, who was said to teleport over great distances to treat the victims of a plague.

In the 17th century, there were several such cases. One such case was written of in a 1692 book on Scottish fairies called The Secret Comnion-Wealth, by a Rev. Robert Kirk, which mentions a man who seemed to have the ability to teleport over short distances. One passage explains the phenomenon thus:

His neighbors often perceived this man to disappear at a certain place, and about one hour after to become visible, and discover himself near a bowshot from the first place. It was in that place where he became invisible, said he, that the Subterraneans [fairies] did encounter and combat with him.

There is also the story of a nun called the Venerable Mary Jesus of Agreda, who between 1620 and 1631 was claimed to have made over 500 teleportations from her convent in Spain all the way over to New Mexico, in the New World, an entire ocean away, for the purpose of converting the region’s Jumano Indians. At first these claims were met with skepticism by the Catholic Church, which called her delusional, but missionaries in the New World, as well as the Indians themselves, gave testimony that seemed to substantiate the fantastical claims. For instance, in 1622, a New World missionary named Father Alonzo de Benavides wrote a letter to both Pope Urban VIII and Philip IV of Spain claiming that someone had already been actively converting the Jumano Indians since long before before he had even arrived. When the Indians were asked where they had learned about Christianity they claimed that it had been shown to them by a European “lady in blue,” and that this mysterious woman had given them crucifixes and a chalice that appeared to be have come from Mary’s convent.

At the time, Benavides knew nothing of the claims that Mary could allegedly teleport back and forth over the ocean, and he would not hear these stories until he returned to Spain. So fascinated was he by the accounts that he personally interviewed Mary and supposedly found her to be quite sincere, as well as demonstrating an intimate, detailed knowledge of the Jumano Indians and the area where they lived far beyond what she could have possibly studied through books alone. Mary had apparently kept a diary of her mysterious jumps to the New World but had burnt it at the urging of the church and out of a fear of being labelled a witch. Nevertheless, logs kept by various other missionaries, conquistadors, and explorers in the New World proved to agree with and sync up very well to when Mary claimed to have made her visits and what she had worn there, as well as the activities she had engaged in. There were also claims from other nuns at the convent that Mary would sometimes vanish from her quarters, and that it was during these absences that she was described as being “off with the Indians.” There were also accounts by other disparate tribes vast distances away that gave reports of a similar mysterious European woman, and which were nearly identical despite these tribes sometimes being thousands of miles apart.

This all seemed to lend some weight to the amazing story, and it was also unlikely that Mary would be intentionally making it all up, as she had once almost been tried as a witch as a young girl and so was wary of admitting to her strange experiences, at times even seeming to outright deny them. Nevertheless, Benavides claimed that he had seen proof without a doubt that Mary was indeed able to make these mysterious journeys. At the time, Benavides’ account of Mary Jesus de Agreda became famous all over his country, and the case would become widely debated over the ensuing years. Did Mary Jesus de Agreda have the ability to somehow instantly jump over the ocean and hop all abut the New World through teleportation or is this all just religious myth and hysterics? No matter what the answer may be, it is a remarkable historical account to be sure.

Many early reports of teleportation seem to be inextricably linked with witchcraft or poltergeist activity. In 1661 a woman from Cork named Florence Newton was tried and accused of being a witch. It was claimed that Newton was prone to having violent episodes of demonic possession in which she would vomit all manner of strange objects such as wool or even pins, and would exhibit supernatural strength, easily hurling large men about like dolls. She would also allegedly be constantly barraged by stones that seemed to materialize from nowhere only to vanish once again after pelting her. Perhaps her most bizarre ability was teleportation, and Newton was claimed to often disappear from a room only to reappear moments later in another room or even on the roof or within a locked chest.

Poltergeists make an appearance in a variety of reports as well. In 1722, a farmer family in the small village of Sandfeldt, East Germany, was terrorized by a poltergeist that routinely tripped the children and picked them up to hang them in midair. The children also sometimes vanished into thin air, only to mysteriously appear in a totally different area moments later or sometimes several hours later. The case was apparently quite well documented. There is also the case of a man named Richard Giles, of Bristol, in the United Kingdom, whose children were menaced by a sinister entity that would push, shove, bite, scratch, and throw rocks at them, as well as whisk them away without a trace only to dump them in another location out of nowhere. Interestingly, although onlookers claimed that the children would simply disappear into thin air and reappear, for the kids themselves it was a decidedly more frightening affair, with one of the children saying that she had been carried by a “witch” dressed in ragged clothes who had held an odiferous skeletal hand over her mouth as she carried her along.

These eery early stories may be heavily influenced by myth, religion, fear, or exaggeration, but it shows how far back these ideas go, how persistent they are, and cases of teleportation have continued on in the years beyond. On June 3, 1871, there was a bizarre incident when a London psychic simply known as Mrs. Guppy allegedly spontaneously teleported from her home in Highbury England to land in the middle of a seance being conducted at a home around 3 miles away. Strangely, almost comically, Mrs. Guppy was reported as appearing out of thin air wearing nothing but her underwear.

#paranormal #teleportation #supernatural

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my-keyboard-did-it-not-me · 6 years ago

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The Storm That's Brewing

Summary: They meet Roman's friend and have a chat about powers

Warnings: none? Tell me if I should add any

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Chapter 10- Plants Vs Princes

The weather was splendid, if Roman did say so himself despite the winter rapidly closing in, not like Alicante, nor California, would really suffer from the cold. Still, with the fall sun shining hot, and a warm breeze drifting through the air, it was nice.

The start of their walk began quietly. Roman wasn't sure whether or not Virgil was mad at him. Obviously, he had reason to- Roman had teleported them across the globe, and couldn't get them back. Surprisingly, he hadn't spent too long in any part of America, and had very few places he could thing of teleporting. In his new city, there really were few spots he knew that didn't have cameras, or were bustling with people. In the city he grew up in wasn't too far from his current address, with his roommates, but he'd never really ventured far off of their property; his father feared he'd do something dumb. Imagine was everything, after all. Roman considered trying to go to his childhood home, but thought better of it. They'd surely be caught by some camera, or neighbour. It was barely worth the risk, especially when he had other manors of returning home.

A minute of silence passed until Roman had had enough of his thoughts. Though, he had nothing to say to Virgil that he was sure wouldn't upset him further. Was he upset? Or was it anger? Was it worse to say nothing, or add salt to the injury? He had to do something, he decided. The last thing he wanted Virgil to find him was boring. Rude, annoying? Sure, he'd heard that all before. But boring was something Roman King refused to be.

Untrusting of his words, Roman began to hum. He was vaguely aware of what the song was that he hummed, as he'd never not recognise anything from Heathers. 'Fight For Me', though, held a special place in his heart. He found the song in his dreams, or paintings of people he admired, and he found it stuck in his brain for several weeks on end. The tune was one he knew well, and thought not of, until Virgil joined in.

Virgil's humming was nearly silent. It was timid. It was unsure. It was sweet, and Roman was hooked. He lowered the volume of his own humming a little, to hear Virgil better, without discouraging him. To Roman's amusement, Virgil took the chorus' parts, and ended the song.

"You like Heathers?" Roman asked after they'd finished the song, excitement clear in his voice.

"The film's better, but yeah I love both." Virgil said sheepishly.

"The film's better?"

Virgil looked Roman dead in the eye, almost as a challenge- about to drop metaphorical gauntlet for a duel. "Christian Slater's eyebrows."

Roman had to concede. He looked ahead, seeing their destination looming near. "Fair point. Christian Slater is a snack. But the musical soundtrack is so powerful!"

"Let me guess: you're a sucker for 'Our Love Is God'."

Roman feigned offence. It was, of course, true, but he didn't like how Virgil had pegged him so easily. "It's romantic!"

"If you ignore the two murders in the middle."

Roman spun dramatically in a circle. "Exactly!"

"Dude, that's kind of an important fact to just glaze over."

"Possibly." Roman agreed, he supposed murder was a pretty big thing to just gloss over. "Anyway, I bet your favourite song is 'Freeze Your Brain'. You give off some real JD vibes."

Virgil paused, staring right at him. "I look like a psychopathic serial killer?"

Roman didn't catch the sarcasm. He backtracked, "No, no, no! Well-" He looked Virgil up and down, "Yeah, no, not really. You just have a dark edginess about you-"

"Calm down Princey, I'm messing with you. I do like 'Freeze Your Brain', and you're not the first one to think I give off psycho vibes. I played JD in my highschool's production."

"You're a theatre kid?" Roman practically yelled. He <i>knew it.<i/> Well, he hadn't actually thought about it before, but now that he knew it made so much sense. "I knew you could sing!"

Virgil smiled shyly in response.

"Sing something with me- Disney, you must know Disney."

"Yes, I know Disney. No, I'm not singing." He started walking again, getting several feet in front of Roman before he thought to catch up. For someone so short, he surely walked quickly.

"Please," Roman begged, "From your favourite Disney film. What is it?"

"Black cauldron. No songs, it's perfect."

Roman pouted.

"Not happening Princey."

"Alright, alright." He pointed forward. "Anyway, our destination is right up that hill. The easiest pathway starts from the edge of town, unless you want to hike."

"Can't you just teleport us? Hiking sucks."

"But then we'd miss all the scenery. Besides, I want to see if my friend Bea is around." Plus, I need to save my energy, he thought.

"Fine." Virgil agreed.

Bea was, just as Roman had hoped, around. She sat at her flower stall, looking bored, with a pink flower crown she'd probably spent too much time making on top of her head. She hadn't changed too much since Roman last saw her, despite her hair having grown from a pixie cut to well past her shoulders. Nowadays, his visits to Spain were scarce.

She didn't spot Roman straight away, as she was absorbed in her phone, her face obscured by her hair. Roman took this opportunity to sneak up on her from behind. He snatched her phone out of her hand.

"Hey!" She protested, spinning round to face Roman. The moment she saw him, her angry expression dropped to one of surprise, and then joy. She pounced on Roman, engulfing him in a hug with such power that it almost knocked him to the ground. Despite being thin, she was almost Roman's height, and could really get some force into her hugs.

She pulled out of the hug, wearing an expression of anger again. "Where have you been? You haven't visited in months. No calls, no texts, and you haven't posted in Instagram in like two weeks which I guessed meant you were dead."

Roman passed her her phone. "My sincerest apologies, although you could've texted me," Bea did not like this answer. "I've been busy with work, and you know, moving house."

"You moved? Since when?"

"Since a month ago. I'm living in an apartment with two lovely roommates, and J-Delightful over there." He gestured towards where Virgil was standing a foot or two away. Virgil gave a small, awkward wave in response.

Bea rushed over to Virgil. "Ohmygosh you're so pretty! Sorry I didn't see you, and sorry Roman's so terrible at introductions. I'm Bea."

"Virgil." He smiled politely.

"Wait a sec, I have something perfect for you-" Bea swiftly moved behind her stall and retrieved two more flower crowns: one red and yellow, braided with flowers that Roma recognised to be red carnations, as well as some other smaller blooms, and a crown which consisted mainly of deep purple flowers with kite shaped petals, and some more, pinker flowers in between. As she passed him, she placed the red flower crown hastily on Roman's head, completely messing his hair up in the process. In a less aggressive manner, she kindly offered Virgil the other crown.

"Oh, no, it's alright-"

"Don't worry. I make loads. My friend has been cloning some of my plants for me so I have way more than I need."

"Okay, well, thank you." Virgil said, placing the flower grown lightly on his head. Roman never expected to see Virgil wearing something to colourful. Roman tried his best not to stare, failing horribly. He opened his phone camera to hide his face, and to fix his hair which Bea had rudely ruffled.

"Aw, you look so cute! Purple suits you." Bea said, impressively energetically. Roman knew from several late night adventures in their youth, that Bea had overwhelming stores of energy that never seemed to run dry. Coming from Roman this statement truly held some weight.

"You have a boyfriend." Roman reminded her, a little more defensively than usual.

Bea laughed, "Yeah, and you don't, what's your point?" She looked between Roman and Virgil excitedly. "Unless you two are...?"

"No!" Both boys said, a little too quickly. They stared at one another quickly, surprised. Virgil broke eye contact first, looking down at his feet. Roman noticed a blush creeping onto his cheeks, matching his flower crown.

Roman switched his camera round and discreetly took a picture of the blushing emo, for teasing purposes of course.

"Wow okay, didn't mean to offend anyone." Bea reassured, gently waving a white flower in peace.

"You could never." Roman denied just as Virgil whispered, "You didn't."

"Well, anyway," Bea changed the subject, "I'm running out of space to store all these plants so you're both taking two each home."

Roman had forgotten how bossy Bea could be, even when doing something nice.

Roman slid his sunglasses down onto his nose and peered at Bea over the top."You want us to carry four plants back?"

"I'm sure you'll manage, Maharajah"

Virgil wasn't sure he'd heard right. "Maharajah?"

"Oh, it's a really funny story. So I was hosting this Indian exchange student ages ago because my dad knows like three words in Hindi and thought he could speak to them, which was a disaster. Anyway, literally the second he saw Roman he just says 'Maharaja' so me and Roman are just really confused, obviously, but we don't think much of it. Maybe he has a friend that looks like Roman-"

"He'd be lucky." Roman remarked.

Bea ignored him. "-called Maharajah but then him and his friend keep snickering about if and saying it whenever Roman was being, well, Roman,"

Virgil piped in this time, "So, extra?"

Bea pointed at him. "Exactly! We asked him what it meant and he, in a thick Indian accent, was just like 'In English, I think you'd describe him as an extra bitch' which of course I would but it was hilarious and Roman was moping for the rest of the day."

"I was not moping! I don't mope." Roman protested.

"Hush, Roman. The grown ups are speaking. Go get some plants."

Virgil snickered.

"I'm older than both of you?"

Bea stared at Roman, unyielding, until he huffed and went behind the stall to look at all the plants.

"But yeah so we googled Maharajah and they used that name for their kings-"

"Which I am." Roman said, holding two small plants up to his eye level, as if they were evidence in a murder investigation.

"-or emperors or whatever but now they just use it for extra bitches like Roman."

"That's... Kind of perfect." Virgil said. "At the apartment, we just call him pool noodle, not to be confused with our snake who we call cute noodle."

Roman emerged from the stall with a pot of red flowers, which were just beginning to bloom. "I thought I was the cute noodle."

Virgil smiled apologetically, "Sorry, that's Raman."

"Raman?" Bea asked.

Virgil confirmed, "The cute noodle."

"Ahhhh, makes sense. But why do you guys have a snake? Like, they're cool but a kind of random pet."

"Virgil and his much kinder-" He shot a smug look at Virgil, "brother, Patton, saved it from some birds. It's only staying with us until the end of the week."

"You're just jealous it gets more attention than you, Princey."

Roman poked one of the flower's buds. "I most certainly am not."

"Hey, be gentle with that. It's just starting to bloom, loser. It's a poinsettia, and I knew you'd choose that one." She nudged Roman playfully. "What about you Virgil, which two do you want?"

Virgil looked over the options. The stall was full of different varieties of plants. What first caught Virgil's eye were a load of hanging plants, dropping down from the top of the stall. They looked cool, but Virgil had nowhere to keep them. The table had a huge variety of plants, none of which Virgil could name, though he liked their pretty colours and shapes.

"What's the easiest to keep alive? I suck at gardening."

"I usually have some succulents or cacti which are pretty much impossible to kill but they need repotting so... Okay, this one." She handed Virgil a plastic pot with a few small, vibrant purple flowers. "They're African violets, very easy to care for, but they don't like direct sunlight. What about the other plant?"

"Uh, I don't know, maybe something for my brother? I don't know."

"Aw, that's so sweet, what does he like?"

What would Patton like? A flower? A succulent? One of the leafy ones? "Uh... He likes colourful stuff?"

"Oh, me too. What about a polka dot plant?" She picked up a small bush plant with pink leaves spilling out of the side. "It's pretty easy to keep alive- indirect sunlight, water every few days and it should thrive."

Virgil moved his violets under one arm and took the polka dot plant from Bea, making sure to get a good grip on both. He'd be mortified if he dropped either fragile plant. "Thank you, he'll love it." He said, pouring as much gratitude as he could into the sentence. Roman's friend, who he'd known for a solid five minutes was giving him two free plants which seemed to be what she earned a living from, and seemed to genuinely care about his brother. Plus, she annoyed Roman- that was a bonus. If Virgil had any money he would've given it to Bea, but it was... Right, in another continent. That still hadn't sunk in.

Bea smiled and looked back to Roman. "What about you?"

"Me? What about me? Are we talking about me?" Roman asked. He'd tuned out of the conversation a few minutes ago to continue a daydream. He noticed Virgil trying to cover his mouth to stop laughing with a plant still in his hand, subsequently getting leaves in his mouth. Karma.

Bea merely shook her head, "No, dude, pick another plant."

He glanced at Virgil, who was struggling to spit out a leaf from the plant he'd selected for Patton. Roman considered for a moment, "I should probably get one for Logan."

"Your other roommate?" Bea asked. Roman nodded. "What does he like?"

"Uh..." Roman realised how little he knew about Logan. He could only recall one instance in which he'd spoken to Logan alone, and that was only a short conversation about coffee. He looked to Virgil for guidance, who dismissed him with a shrug. "He likes science and... Robots?"

Bea shook her head very slightly. "I don't happen to have any robot flowers today but this is pretty cool." She showed Virgil and Roman a pot full of stones. Roman waited a moment, wondering whether a bright pink plant would shoot through the rocks and sing the alphabet (or something more scientifically possible) but nothing happened.

"Where's the plant?" He asked.

Bea held the plant closer to them. "Here." She insisted.

Roman and Virgil shared a confused look.

"They're not rocks," Bea explained. "They're succulents. Kinda dull to look at but like, they're cool."

"No way." Virgil whispered, feeling the rock-plant. Roman followed suit, expecting a rough texture. It surprised him to feel that strange rubbery, plastic-like texture succulents all had.

"I don't remember it's actual name but me and Bella call it Rocky, obviously."

"I'm sure Logan will know its name, species, origin and at least two random facts about it." Roman said, no intentions of malice behind his words. He accepted the pot from Bea, tucking it under his spare arm.

Virgil let slip a laugh before he could compose himself back to that neutral, nearly annoyed looking expression he wore most of the time. Why he suppressed his smiles and laughter was a mystery to Roman- he looked so carefree when he laughed. It would have to be Roman's new quest: to cheer up the emo.

Bea squinted up at the sky. "The sun's about to set and I should probably get these plant children inside but it was really nice to meet you, Virgil."

"You too."

Roman was very conscious of the size of Bea's stall, and the little amount of daylight they had left. He offered, "Any help getting the flowers back to yours?"

"Nah, I'm good." Bea lifted the cloth that covered the stall, revealing wheels on the table legs. Roman laughed, what a Bea thing to do.

She kicked at one of the wheels, spinning it to face he same direction of the others. Bea grabbed one end of the stall and pulled it slightly. "Roman, you better text me later, and if either of you or your roommates have any questions about your plants or just want a chat, message me. Visit soon!" She pulled the cart away slowly.

Virgil and Roman yelled their goodbyes after her, then set off down the path up the hill.

As per Virgil's request, they sat under a tree, not too close to the water. Of course Virgil wanted to be in the shade, here was probably melting in that black jacket.

The scene in front of them was beautiful. The number of selfies Roman had taken in this spot was infinitesimal (meaning extremely large, not tiny, as Logan had mistaken a few days ago). They had a perfect view of the sea, and setting sun. And Virgil? He was a view of his own. Of course, he lacked any sense of style at all, clad in black from head to toe, although Roman quite admired that. The juxtaposition of the colourful sunset behind Virgil, with Virgil's black, silhouette like stature looked like an artwork Roman would have painted. Perhaps he would a little later.

"What?" Virgil asked. He placed his plant pots in the space between where they were sitting.

"Huh?"

"Why are you staring, Prince Edward?" Virgil crossed his arms over his chest.

"Prince Edward?"

"Yeah." Virgil said slowly, "From Enchanted."

Roman gasped, offended. "Why of course I knew he was from Enchanted. I was just surprised that you of all people would compliment me."

"Compliment? He's stupid and sings too much." Virgil paused a second. "What do you mean 'me of all people?'"

"He's brave and does anything in the name of love! And he sings a perfectly reasonable amount. Plus, he's handsome. I find him rather relatable." Virgil waited for him to answer his question. "I said 'you of all people' because I don't think I've ever heard you compliment anyone."

Virgil hugged his arms to his chest. "Or maybe you've never done anything that I should compliment."

"What do you mean? I look like this-" he gestured around wildly. "-every day."

[this chapter is so long I'll post the rest in a sec]

#tstb #tstb chapter 10 #part 1 #sanders sides #roman sanders #virgil sanders #oc #prinxiety

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