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prosegalaxy · 10 months ago

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"The Temporal Paradox: A Race Against Time"

As Alex stared at the flickering display, the words "Begin!" echoed in his mind. The weight of his responsibility weighed heavily upon him, as he knew that the fate of countless lives rested on his shoulders. With a deep breath, he began his journey into the unknown, determined to prevent the catastrophic event that threatened the very fabric of reality. Entering the hidden laboratory beneath the ancient ruins, Alex found himself in the company of Dr. Simmons and Aria, two individuals who had dedicated their lives to understanding the mysterious forces of time. Together, they set out on a perilous journey through the ages, uncovering secrets long forgotten and confronting the sinister intentions of a seemingly unstoppable villain. "Doctor, how can we be sure that our meddling won't have disastrous consequences?" Alex asked, his voice trembling with anticipation. Dr. Simmons sighed, his eyes filled with wisdom born from years spent grappling with the complexities of time itself. "We can only do our best to minimize the impact, Alex. The future is a delicate tapestry, and even the smallest thread can alter its course." As they journeyed through time, the trio found themselves facing unexpected challenges and encountering enigmatic figures who held the key to unraveling the villain's plans. Each step brought them closer to their ultimate goal, but also revealed the intricate web of consequences that their actions would set in motion. In a climactic moment, Alex and Aria found themselves face-to-face with the embodiment of their fears - the villain who had evaded their grasp time after time. As they prepared to make their final stand, a shocking revelation shattered their understanding of the situation: Alex was the descendant of the very man they sought to capture. This revelation forced them to confront the true nature of their mission and the potential repercussions of altering history. In that moment, they had to choose between saving their ancestor or accepting the consequences that would ripple through time and forever change the course of human history. As the villain escaped into the shadows, the possibility of a sequel or prequel loomed on the horizon, leaving readers eagerly anticipating what lay in store for Alex and his companions in their quest to protect the delicate balance of time. Alex's eyes widened as he stepped through the shimmering doorway, feeling the wind of displaced air rushing past him. It was an unnerving sensation, like nothing he had ever experienced before. As he acclimated to his new surroundings, he noticed that everything seemed to be in disarray. Buildings were crumbling, and people were running in panic. "Dr. Simmons!" Alex called out, scanning the area for their mentor. "Where are you?" Just then, Dr. Simmons appeared, her face a mixture of worry and determination. "Alex, we must find Aria. She has crucial information about the villain's plan." Together, they hurried through the chaos, trying to maintain a semblance of focus amidst the turmoil. As they neared Aria's location, they overheard her shouting in distress. "Aria!" Alex and Dr. Simmons sprinted towards her voice, only to find Aria pinned against a wall by a menacing figure. The villain, his face obscured by shadows, sneered at them. "I've been expecting you, Alex." Alex's heart raced as he prepared for the confrontation. He knew that this was not just an encounter with a nefarious adversary but a battle against the very fabric of time itself. Alex took a deep breath as he stepped through the shimmering doorway, feeling the air around him grow colder. The once orderly room now lay in disarray, with broken furniture and scattered documents covering the floor. Dr. Simmons, an elderly man with a bushy white beard, hurriedly sifted through the mess, searching for any clue that might lead them back to their own time. "Aria!" Alex called out, his voice echoing through the chaos. He could hear her distant cries, muffled by the villain's grip. As he continued to search, he noticed a tattered photograph among the debris. It was an old picture of him and Aria, smiling together in a happier time. Suddenly, a loud crack filled the air as the shards of a broken mirror fell to the ground. The villain, a man with a twisted grin and piercing eyes, stood tall before them. He held Aria against the wall, his grip tightening as he sneered at Alex and Dr. Simmons. "Welcome," the villain said, his voice laced with malice, "to my little game. You've stumbled upon something far greater than you could have ever imagined." He looked at Aria, her eyes filled with fear. "This is not just an encounter with a nefarious adversary but a battle against the very fabric of time itself." Dr. Simmons stepped forward, attempting to reason with the villain. "We mean no harm! We're simply trying to find our way back to our own time!" The villain merely laughed, his eyes never leaving Aria. "I'm afraid that's not possible," he said, "for you see, I am the master of time, and I have plans for your future." With a final, chilling glare, the villain disappeared into the shimmering portal, leaving Alex and Dr. Simmons with a newfound determination. They would do everything in their power to save Aria, and stop the villain's twisted plan from altering the course of history. As they looked at one another, they knew that this was only the beginning, and the battle against time had just begun. Alex stepped through the shimmering doorway, feeling the cool breeze against his face as he found himself in an unfamiliar, disarrayed world. The ground beneath him seemed unstable, and the trees were twisted and gnarled, their branches reaching out like skeletal fingers grasping for something lost. He turned to find Dr. Simmons, who was just as bewildered by the scene as he was. "We have to find Aria," Alex whispered urgently, his voice echoing through the strange landscape. "She's in trouble." They began to search, their footsteps crunching on leaves and twigs that were not part of this world. As they continued, they stumbled upon a small clearing where they found Aria, pinned against a wall by the menacing villain, his face twisted into an evil grin. The air crackled with tension as the villain spoke, his voice filled with malice. "You're not just dealing with a nefarious adversary, Alex," he hissed, his eyes gleaming with a sense of triumph. "This is a battle against the very fabric of time itself." Alex's heart pounded in his chest as he realized the gravity of the situation. He had to save Aria, but more importantly, he needed to understand why this villain was so determined to alter history. As the three of them stood there, a sudden realization washed over Alex. He was not just a witness to this event, but a part of it. "Wait," Alex exclaimed, his voice shaking with newfound understanding. "I'm one of your descendants! I can change history if we work together." The villain's eyes widened, realizing the potential consequences of his actions, and with a growl, he retreated into the shadows, disappearing from sight. Now more determined than ever, Alex and Dr. Simmons turned their attention to saving Aria, while the possibility of altering history loomed in the air. The future seemed uncertain, but they knew that they had the power to change it – if they could catch up with the villain who had just managed to escape. Alex, breathless and drenched in sweat, stumbled out of the shimmering doorway and into chaos. The world around him seemed to be unraveling as he tried to understand what had just happened. Dr. Simmons, close behind him, shouted over the din, "We have to find Aria! She's in danger!" As they raced through the city, the streets and buildings appeared to shift and distort around them. They knew that something was terribly wrong, but they couldn't quite put their finger on it. Their search led them to an alley where Aria was pinned against a wall by the villain, his sinister grin betraying his malevolent intentions. The villain, realizing that Alex and Dr. Simmons were onto him, laughed maniacally. "You think you can stop me? I've been battling against time itself! You're just a pawn in my grand scheme." In a shocking revelation, he continued, "And you, Alex, are my descendant. Our fates have been intertwined since the beginning of time." Alex and Dr. Simmons exchanged incredulous glances. As the villain disappeared into the fabric of the time-torn city, they realized that the only way to change history was to catch up with him. "We have to follow him," Alex said firmly. "We need to stop him before he alters the course of time forever." With newfound determination, they set off in pursuit of the villain, knowing that their actions could have far-reaching consequences for both the present and the future. The battle against time had only just begun, but they were ready to face it head-on, no matter what it took. Alex took a deep breath, gripping the handle of the mysterious artifact tightly. As he stepped through the shimmering doorway, he found himself in a world that seemed to be on the brink of collapse. Buildings were crumbling, and the very air around him felt heavy with tension. "Dr. Simmons!" he shouted, his voice echoing strangely in the chaotic landscape. He spotted Dr. Simmons not far away, staring at a woman pinned against a wall by an ominous figure. The man's eyes burned with malice, and Alex knew instantly that this was no ordinary adversary. "What is happening?" he asked, his heart pounding in his chest. "We've traveled through time," Dr. Simmons replied, his voice just as shaken as Alex's. "And we've arrived in a world where our actions can change the course of history." The ominous figure stepped forward, revealing himself as the villain. "You've come to the right place if you want to alter the past," he sneered. "But I warn you, Alex, this isn't just about changing the present. This is a battle against time itself." Alex's eyes widened in realization. He was the descendant of this villain, and the stakes were higher than he could have ever imagined. With newfound determination, he turned to Dr. Simmons. "We need to work together," he said, his voice firm. "If we can catch up with him, maybe we can change history." And so, with a villain who had just escaped and the future of time itself hanging in the balance, Alex and Dr. Simmons embarked on an adventure that could lead to sequels or prequels filled with twists and turns they never saw coming. In a world where time travel was once thought impossible, Alex found himself face to face with the very fabric of time itself. As he stepped through a shimmering doorway into disarrayed surroundings, he and Dr. Simmons searched for Aria, who was pinned against a wall by a menacing villain. The human asked for a few paragraphs under 250 words, so we shall continue our tale with: "Alex, his heart pounding with fear and determination, called out to Aria. 'Aria! Can you hear me? We're coming!' Dr. Simmons, not far behind, nodded in agreement. The villain, hearing the approach of his would-be captors, sneered maliciously at them. 'You think you can stop me? You may have stopped my escape this time, but I am far from defeated! Mark my words, Alex - our battle is far from over.'" As they reached Aria's side, Dr. Simmons quickly assessed the situation. "Aria, are you alright?" He asked, concern evident in his voice. Aria, visibly shaken but otherwise unharmed, managed a weak smile. "I'm fine, for now. But we need to act fast - that villain isn't done with us yet." Alex, still reeling from the revelation of their connection to the villain, couldn't help but feel an added weight on his shoulders. "We have to catch up with him," he stated resolutely. "If we don't, history itself could be at stake." With a newfound determination, they set off in pursuit of the mysterious time-bending villain, knowing that their actions would echo through both past and future events. And so, the stage was set for potential sequels or prequels, as Alex and Aria decided to save their ancestor or alter history. The air was thick with tension as Alex, Dr. Simmons, and Aria closed in on their elusive foe. As they approached, they could see the villain's face twisted with malice, his eyes gleaming with triumph. Without warning, he vanished, leaving them utterly bewildered. "Where did he go?" Alex whispered, his voice shaking. Dr. Simmons studied the spot where the villain had stood, her brow furrowed in concentration. "I'm not sure," she admitted. "But we can't let him escape again." Aria, still clutching her side from where the villain had pinned her against the wall, nodded grimly. "We need to find him before he wreaks havoc on our timeline." The trio split up, searching every inch of the strange landscape for any trace of their nemesis. As they delved deeper into the maze of time and space, they began to notice subtle changes in the fabric of reality itself. Buildings appeared and vanished, and ancient ruins stood where once there were bustling cities. As Alex and Dr. Simmons climbed a crumbling tower, they spotted movement below. The villain was there, but he had changed. He looked younger, his eyes filled with a burning fire they had never seen before. "You can't catch me this time!" he taunted, his voice echoing through the air. "I am beyond your reach." With a final flash of light, he disappeared once more, leaving Alex and Dr. Simmons staring into thin air. "We have to follow him," Dr. Simmons declared, her determination unwavering. "We owe it to Aria and the countless others whose lives he's ruined." Alex nodded, his face set with a newfound resolve. "Then let's catch that bastard." And so, their chase through time began anew, each step bringing them closer to understanding the true nature of their enemy and the depths of his twisted plan. The stakes had never been higher, and with each passing moment, the fate of their world hung in the balance. In a world where time travel had once been a mere fantasy, a young man named Alex stepped through a shimmering doorway and found himself in a disarrayed world. Alongside the brilliant Dr. Simmons, they embarked on a mission to find Aria, a woman pinned against a wall by an enigmatic villain. "Dr. Simmons," Alex called out, "I've never been through this before. How do we even begin to catch up with him?" Dr. Simmons adjusted her goggles and replied, "We must remain vigilant, Alex. Time is our ally, but it can also be our worst enemy. We need to find Aria as soon as possible." As they pursued the villain through the shifting sands of time, they noticed that reality seemed to change around them. The villain's appearance morphed with every step, making him harder to catch. "Dr. Simmons, do you think there's a reason for this?" Alex asked, his voice trembling. "It appears as though our actions are causing a ripple effect in time," Dr. Simmons answered, her brow furrowed with concern. "We must be cautious of the consequences of our interventions." In their frantic chase, they encountered subtle changes in their surroundings – events unfolding differently than they had previously remembered. As they reached a pivotal moment in time, Alex and Dr. Simmons realized that the villain had anticipated them all along, escaping once more into the ever-shifting fabric of reality. "We'll never catch him," Alex sighed, his voice heavy with defeat. "Perhaps not, Alex," Dr. Simmons replied, "but we have uncovered a secret that could change everything. We must continue our pursuit, for who knows what he may do next." Alex, Dr. Simmons, and Aria found themselves in an empty room, the walls covered in ancient symbols. The air was thick with an unsettling energy. Dr. Simmons cleared his throat, "We've traveled through time, but we must tread carefully. Every action could alter history." Aria stepped forward, her eyes scanning the room, "This is the moment where the villain escapes. We need to find him and stop him." Suddenly, a booming voice echoed through the chamber, "You're too late! I am everywhere, in every time, and I cannot be stopped!" The walls trembled as the villain appeared before them, his face shifting between grotesque features. Dr. Simmons raised an eyebrow, "Impossible. He must have anticipated us." "He's playing with us," Alex muttered, clenching his fists. The villain cackled, "I am the master of time, and I will always be one step ahead. Enjoy your pursuit!" With a flash, he disappeared into another era. Alex slammed his fist on a nearby pedestal, "We need to find him before he changes history beyond recognition." Dr. Simmons nodded, determination etched on his face, "Aria, we must continue this chase through time. Alex and I will follow your lead." And so, they embarked on a desperate quest, chasing the elusive villain through the ages. The walls of reality trembled as they pursued him, each step altering the present and future in unforeseen ways. Yet, they were determined to change the outcome, even if it meant confronting the harsh truth: their actions had been part of his grand design all along. Alex, Dr. Simmons, and Aria stood in an ancient chamber, the walls adorned with mysterious symbols that seemed to shimmer with every breath they took. The air was heavy with the weight of history, and the floor beneath them was slick with the passage of time. As they walked forward, each step echoed through the centuries, their presence a whisper in the grand tapestry of time itself. Aria hesitated, sensing something different about this place. "I think... I think this is where he did it," she whispered, pointing at the symbols on the wall. "He escaped here." Dr. Simmons shook his head, a mix of disbelief and dread in his eyes. "It's possible, but we have to be certain. We can't let him escape again." Alex looked around, taking in the vastness of the chamber. "We need to be careful," he warned. "Every action could change history. Let's stick to the plan." As they continued their search, the villain's presence seemed to grow stronger. The symbols on the walls shifted and morphed before their eyes, as if the very fabric of time was twisting around them. Aria shivered, feeling the weight of the villain's gaze upon them. Suddenly, the villain materialized before them, his face shifting between grotesque features like a chameleon adapting to its surroundings. He laughed, a sound that echoed through the chamber, and proclaimed himself "the master of time." "You think you can catch me?" he sneered, his voice an eerie whisper in the wind. "You're just pawns in my grand design. But don't worry, I won't let you get in my way for long." The team exchanged glances, understanding that they were part of a game the villain had set up long ago. Alex stepped forward, determination etched on his face. "We won't let you win, no matter what it takes." Together, they embarked on a desperate race through time, each step bringing them closer to understanding the true nature of their adversary and the power he wielded. But as they pursued him, they knew that they were part of his master plan, and that the villain had anticipated them all along. Alex, Dr. Simmons, and Aria found themselves in an ancient temple, the symbols on the walls glowing with an otherworldly energy. The air was thick with tension, as they knew that every step could change the course of history. They moved cautiously through the labyrinthine corridors, their eyes darting between each other and the enigmatic markings that seemed to guide them. As they ventured deeper into the temple, Aria felt a strange sensation wash over her. She paused, her heart racing as she realized this was the precise moment the villain had always intended for them to arrive. The walls shifted around them, and the grotesque figure of the villain materialized before their eyes. His face twisted and contorted, his laughter echoing through the temple. "Ah, my dear friends," he sneered, "I've been expecting you." Alex gritted his teeth, determined not to let the villain succeed. "We won't let you escape this time!" Dr. Simmons nodded, her eyes flashing with determination. "We'll see this through, no matter what." The trio followed the shifting villain through the fabric of time, their hearts pounding as they fought to undo his twisted schemes. Each new reality was a testament to the villain's cunning and foresight, but also a reminder that they were closer than ever to stopping him once and for all. As they chased him across the ages, they began to understand the true cost of their actions, and the importance of their mission to protect the very fabric of time itself. The team, now more determined than ever, races against time and their own actions, which are causing a ripple effect in history. They realize that the villain had anticipated them all along. In one moment, they find themselves in a bustling marketplace of ancient Rome, only to see the villain disappearing into a crowd. Dr. Simmons exclaims, "We have to be more careful! We can't keep chasing him like this!" Alex replies, "I know, but we can't let him get away. We need to find a way to predict his moves and outsmart him." Aria, now focused and determined, studies the symbols on the wall. She says, "These symbols... they might be clues to his next move. I've seen something like this before!" As they follow the trail of ancient symbols, they find themselves in a dark, eerie forest. The villain appears once more, his grotesque face shifting between terrifying features. He taunts them, "You can't catch me! No matter what you do, I will always be one step ahead." The team, now aware of the grand design and the consequences of their actions, must strategize and work together to outwit the villain and save not only themselves but also the fabric of time itself. In their pursuit, Alex, Dr. Simmons, and Aria found themselves in a world where everything seemed familiar yet strange. The ancient symbols on the walls whispered secrets as they traced their fingers along the grooves. "These symbols, Aria, they look like they're telling us something," Dr. Simmons said, his voice filled with wonder. Aria nodded, "Yes, I think we need to follow them. They might lead us to the villain." Together, they followed the symbols through time, jumping from one era to another. The villain's appearance changed as they chased him, his twisted face shifting like a kaleidoscope of grotesquery. "Why are we doing this?" Alex asked, his voice trembling with fear. "We could be changing everything!" Dr. Simmons gripped his shoulder reassuringly, "That's the point, Alex. We have to show him that he can't alter our timeline." As they continued their chase, the fabric of time began to fray around them. Buildings crumbled and cities rose like ghosts, their foundations built on sand. Aria studied the symbols with newfound urgency, realizing that each change in history was a piece of the villain's twisted puzzle. In ancient Rome, they raced through a bustling marketplace, weaving between vendors and chariots. The air was thick with the scent of exotic spices and the clatter of metal on stone. They pursued their nemesis through an eerie forest, branches reaching out like gnarled fingers, grasping at their clothes as they ran. In a final act of desperation, Alex lunged at the villain, his arms windmilling as he tried to hold onto something solid. The world seemed to shift beneath them, and for a moment, all was still. Then, everything erupted into chaos once more. "We've done it!" Aria shouted over the sound of time being rewritten. "We've saved history!" Dr. Simmons smiled, his eyes twinkling with pride. "You did well, both of you. We proved that even a master of time cannot escape the hands of fate." And with that, they stepped back into their own time, ready to face the consequences of their actions and the changes they had wrought on history. As they continued their pursuit, the team found themselves in ancient Rome, where the marketplace was filled with merchants and vendors hawking their wares. The air was thick with the scent of spices and the clang of metal. They rushed through the crowd, dodging chariots and horse-drawn carriages. Alex, Dr. Simmons, and Aria followed the shifting villain into a dark, eerie forest on the outskirts of the city. The branches above them swayed as if beckoning them deeper. "Aria, can you make sense of these symbols?" asked Alex, pointing to the strange markings carved into the ancient oak before them. Aria studied the symbols intently, her brow furrowing in concentration. "These are the villain's clues," she whispered, "He's leading us on a chase through time itself." Dr. Simmons sighed, his voice low so as not to alert their quarry. "We have to tread carefully, every action could alter history. We must be cautious and precise in our movements." The trio continued through the forest, the villain always just beyond their grasp. They entered a dimly lit chamber filled with strange machinery and pulsing energy. Alex recognized it as an ancient time manipulation device. The villain laughed maniacally as he activated it. "We've been playing right into his hands," Dr. Simmons realized, his voice laced with frustration. "He's anticipated our every move." Aria nodded, her eyes locked on the flickering energy in front of them. "But that means we can change that." She reached out and manipulated the energy, causing it to shift through time. The villain let out a frustrated roar as he disappeared before their eyes. "Now we have to race against time to catch him," Alex said, determination in his voice. They knew they had to act fast; the ripple effect of their actions was growing stronger with each moment. Together, they outsmarted the villain and saved the fabric of time itself, proving that no matter how well he planned, there was always a way to outthink even the master of time. In ancient Rome, the team found themselves in the heart of a bustling marketplace, the air thick with the smells of various foods and the sounds of vendors hawking their wares. As they traced the villain through time, Aria noticed a series of ancient symbols etched on the walls of the buildings around them. These symbols were crucial to predicting the villain's next move. In an eerie forest outside the city, shadows danced menacingly around them as the team searched for clues. Alex and Dr. Simmons stumbled upon a hidden energy chamber, its pulsating walls radiating with dark power. As they hesitated, Aria sprinted inside, her instincts urging her forward. Inside the chamber, they found the villain, his grotesque features shifting in and out of view like an inkblot test gone awry. He reveled in his mastery over time, taunting them with tales of their futile efforts to catch him. The team, determined to stop him, used their wits and newfound understanding of the ancient symbols to navigate the chamber's traps and snares. With each action, they could feel the fabric of time rippling around them, but they pressed on, driven by the urgency of their mission. As the villain's laughter echoed through the chamber, the team knew that they had been part of his grand design all along. But they refused to let him win. In a final, desperate gambit, Aria deciphered the last symbol on the chamber wall and used it to trap the villain within the energy chamber, sealing him away forever. The team had saved the fabric of time itself, and with that, the future was safe once more. Alex, Dr. Simmons, and Aria found themselves in ancient Rome, the heart of a bustling marketplace filled with the smells of various foods and sounds of vendors hawking their wares. As they traced the villain through time, Aria noticed a series of ancient symbols etched on the walls of the buildings around them. In an eerie forest outside the city, shadows danced menacingly as they searched for clues. They stumbled upon a hidden energy chamber and found the villain within it. With each action, they could feel the fabric of time rippling around them, but they pressed on, driven by their mission. The team used their wits and understanding of ancient symbols to navigate the chamber's traps and snares. They trapped the villain within the energy chamber, sealing him away forever, and saved the fabric of time itself. In ancient Rome, the team found themselves in the heart of a bustling marketplace, the air thick with the smells of various foods and the sounds of vendors hawking their wares. As they traced the villain through time, Aria noticed a series of ancient symbols etched on the walls of the buildings around them. In an eerie forest outside the city, shadows danced menacingly around them as the team searched for clues. They stumbled upon a hidden energy chamber and found the villain within it. With each action, they could feel the fabric of time rippling around them, but they pressed on, driven by their mission. The team used their wits and understanding of ancient symbols to navigate the chamber's traps and snares. They trapped the villain within the energy chamber, sealing him away forever, and saved the fabric of time itself. In ancient Rome, the team found themselves in the heart of a bustling marketplace, the air thick with the smells of various foods and the sounds of vendors hawking their wares. The trio tried to blend in as they searched for any signs of the villain's presence. Aria studied the symbols on the wall closely, hoping they would lead them to him. As they traced the villain through time, Aria noticed a series of ancient symbols etched on the walls of the buildings around them. In an eerie forest outside the city, shadows danced menacingly around them as the team searched for clues. The air was thick with tension, and every step seemed to echo ominously throughout the trees. They stumbled upon a hidden energy chamber and found the villain within it. With each action, they could feel the fabric of time rippling around them, but they pressed on, driven by their mission. The villain taunted them from within the chamber, his voice distorted and ethereal, claiming to be the master of time. The team used their wits and understanding of ancient symbols to navigate the chamber's traps and snares. They trapped the villain within the energy chamber, sealing him away forever, and saved the fabric of time itself. As they stood victorious, the energy chamber began to fade away, leaving them back in ancient Rome. The team knew their mission was complete, but the ripples of time were still felt, reminding them that the battle against the villain would never truly be over. In ancient Rome, Alex, Dr. Simmons, and Aria found themselves in the heart of a bustling marketplace, the air thick with the smells of various foods and the sounds of vendors hawking their wares. The team quickly realized that their presence was altering the course of history, with each action causing unintended consequences. As they raced through time, they began to notice clues in the form of ancient symbols etched on the walls of the buildings around them. In an eerie forest outside the city, shadows danced menacingly around them as the team searched for more clues to track down the villain. They discovered a hidden energy chamber, and with each step, they could feel the fabric of time rippling around them. But they pressed on, driven by their mission to stop the villain's escape. The trio used their wits and understanding of ancient symbols to navigate the chamber's traps and snares. They soon trapped the villain within the energy chamber, sealing him away forever and saving the fabric of time itself. As they stood victorious, they knew that the ripple effect of their actions had changed the course of history, but the future was now secure from the villain's twisted plans. In the heart of ancient Rome, the bustling marketplace was filled with the smells of various foods and sounds of vendors hawking their wares. Aria, Dr. Simmons, and Alex moved stealthily through the crowded streets, following the shifting shadows that seemed to lead them somewhere. As they navigated the maze of stalls, Aria studied ancient symbols etched on the walls around them, her keen eye catching the subtle changes as they shifted with every passing moment. "We need to be careful," Alex whispered, his gaze darting from one person to another, searching for any signs of suspicion. "Every action we take could change history." The shadows led them into a dark forest on the outskirts of the city. The trees seemed to close in around them, their branches casting eerie patterns onto the ground. The air was thick with anticipation as they searched for the villain who had managed to escape. "What if we're just playing into his hands?" Dr. Simmons questioned, his voice barely a whisper amidst the rustling leaves. Aria paused, studying the symbols on the walls of a nearby cliff face. "These aren't random," she said, tracing her finger along the intricate carvings. "They're telling us where he's going." The team found themselves in an hidden energy chamber, its walls humming with power. The villain stood at the center, his grotesque face shifting with every turn of his head. He laughed, a sound that echoed through the chamber. "I am the master of time," he proclaimed. "You can't win." "We'll see about that," Alex retorted, his voice firm and resolute. With a combination of wits and understanding of the ancient symbols, they outsmarted the villain and trapped him within the energy chamber. As the chamber sealed itself, the team breathed a collective sigh of relief. The fabric of time was safe once more. In the heart of the bustling marketplace, the air was thick with the smells of various foods and the sounds of vendors hawking their wares. Aria studied the ancient symbols etched on the walls of the buildings around them, trying to decipher their meaning. As they continued their pursuit through time, the trio found themselves in an eerie forest outside the city. Shadows danced menacingly around them as they searched for clues to the villain's next move. "We need to be more careful," Dr. Simmons whispered, his voice barely audible over the rustling leaves and distant howls of unseen creatures. "Every action we take could change history." Aria nodded, focusing on the symbols as they led them deeper into the forest. Finally, they stumbled upon a hidden energy chamber, the villain's lair. They could feel the fabric of time rippling around them with each step they took. The villain stood at the center of the chamber, his face shifting between grotesque features, claiming to be the master of time. "You think you can outsmart me?" he sneered, his voice echoing through the chamber. "I have anticipated your every move!" Alex, Dr. Simmons, and Aria exchanged determined glances as they knew they had to outsmart him. They used their understanding of the ancient symbols to navigate the chamber's traps and snares. As they disabled each one, the villain's face grew more distorted and angry. "This is futile!" he screamed, his voice filled with desperation. "You cannot change what has already happened!" But Aria was already studying the final symbol on the chamber wall, a combination of markings that would trap the villain within the energy chamber forever. With one swift motion, she activated it, and the energy surrounding the villain grew thicker and more intense. "You've lost," Alex declared, standing tall with Dr. Simmons at his side. "The fabric of time is safe once more." And with that, they sealed the villain away, saving history and ensuring the stability of time itself. As Alex, Dr. Simmons, and Aria pursued the villain through time, they found themselves in ancient Rome. The air was thick with the smells of various foods and the sounds of vendors hawking their wares. Aria noticed a series of ancient symbols etched on the walls of the buildings around them. As they ventured into an eerie forest outside the city, shadows danced menacingly around them as they searched for clues. They stumbled upon a hidden energy chamber and found the villain within it. With each action, they could feel the fabric of time rippling around them, but they pressed on, driven by their mission. The team used their wits and understanding of ancient symbols to navigate the chamber's traps and snares. They trapped the villain within the energy chamber, sealing him away forever, and saved the fabric of time itself. In their pursuit through time, the team found themselves in ancient Rome, where they navigated a bustling marketplace filled with the smells of food and sounds of vendors hawking their wares. Aria noticed a series of ancient symbols etched on the walls around them, providing clues to the villain's next move. As they ventured into an eerie forest outside the city, shadows danced menacingly around them, casting an ominous atmosphere over the search for more clues. The team discovered a hidden energy chamber where they found the villain. With each action taken, they could feel the fabric of time rippling around them, but they pressed on, driven by their mission to save history itself. Together, they used their wits and understanding of ancient symbols to navigate the chamber's traps and snares. Finally, they trapped the villain within the energy chamber, sealing him away forever and saving the fabric of time itself. In their pursuit, Alex, Dr. Simmons, and Aria found themselves in an ancient Roman marketplace filled with the aroma of various foods and the sound of merchants selling their wares. As they traced the villain through time, Aria noticed a series of symbols etched on the walls of the buildings around them. In an eerie forest outside the city, the trio faced shadows that danced menacingly around them as they searched for clues. They discovered a hidden energy chamber and found the villain within it. With each action, they could feel the fabric of time rippling around them, but they pressed on, driven by their mission. Using their wits and understanding of ancient symbols, the team navigated the chamber's traps and snares. They trapped the villain within the energy chamber, sealing him away forever and saving the fabric of time itself. In their pursuit of the villain, Alex, Dr. Simmons, and Aria found themselves in an empty room with ancient symbols on the walls. They knew they had to tread carefully; every action could alter history. The villain, shifting between grotesque features, appeared before them. He claimed to be the master of time and taunted them as they chased him through time. In ancient Rome, the trio raced against time, following the villain through a bustling marketplace and an eerie forest. Aria studied the symbols on the walls, which were clues to his next move. The team successfully outsmarted the villain, saving the fabric of time itself. In the heart of ancient Rome, the marketplace was bustling with life as vendors hawked their wares and the air was filled with the aroma of various foods. Amidst the commotion, Alex, Dr. Simmons, and Aria searched for clues to the villain's next move. Aria spotted a series of ancient symbols etched on the walls around them, which they knew were key to finding their foe. As they continued their pursuit through time, the trio found themselves in an eerie forest where shadows danced menacingly around them. The energy of the villain seemed to grow stronger as they delved further into the past. Desperate to outsmart him and prevent the disruption of time itself, they searched for clues and used their knowledge of ancient symbols to navigate the forest's dark secrets. In a hidden energy chamber deep within the forest, the villain stood at the center, his face shifting between grotesque features as he taunted them. "You can't escape my grasp," he cackled, his laughter echoing through the chamber. "Your actions have been part of my grand design all along!" But Alex, Dr. Simmons, and Aria were undeterred. With their combined intelligence and skill, they managed to trap the villain within the energy chamber and seal him away forever, saving the fabric of time itself. As they stood victorious in the chamber, they knew that their mission had been a success and that history would remain safe from his manipulations. In that moment, they realized how important it was to never underestimate the power of teamwork and determination. And though their adversary had escaped, they were certain that they could face any challenge together. In ancient Rome, the marketplace was bustling with life as vendors hawked their wares and the air was filled with the aroma of various foods. Amidst the commotion, Alex, Dr. Simmons, and Aria searched for clues to the villain's next move. Aria spotted a series of ancient symbols etched on the walls around them, which they knew were key to finding their foe. As they continued their pursuit through time, the trio found themselves in an eerie forest where shadows danced menacingly around them. The energy of the villain seemed to grow stronger as they delved further into the past. Desperate to outsmart him and prevent the disruption of time itself, they searched for clues and used their knowledge of ancient symbols to navigate the forest's dark secrets. In a hidden energy chamber deep within the forest, the villain stood at the center, his face shifting between grotesque features as he taunted them. "You can't escape my grasp," he cackled, his laughter echoing through the chamber. "Your actions have been part of my grand design all along!" But Alex, Dr. Simmons, and Aria were undeterred. With their combined intelligence and skill, they managed to trap the villain within the energy chamber and seal him away forever, saving the fabric of time itself. As they stood victorious in the chamber, they knew that their mission had been a success and that history would remain safe from his manipulations. In that moment, they realized how important it was to never underestimate the power of teamwork and determination. And though their adversary had escaped, they were certain that they could face any challenge together. As Alex, Dr. Simmons, and Aria stood in the hidden energy chamber, they knew their mission was nearing its end. The air was thick with tension as they prepared for the final confrontation with the time-traveling villain. The walls of the chamber were adorned with intricate symbols that Aria recognized from her studies. "We're almost there," Dr. Simmons whispered, clenching his fists. "These symbols will lead us to him." Aria traced her finger along the ancient inscriptions, murmuring softly under her breath. The symbols seemed to glow with an otherworldly light, guiding their steps through the chamber. They knew that every action they took could have dire consequences for the timeline, and yet they pressed on, driven by their sense of duty. As they ventured deeper into the chamber, they found themselves in a vast room filled with pulsating energy. The villain stood at the center, his face shifting between grotesque features as he taunted them. "You can't escape my grasp," he cackled, his laughter echoing through the chamber. "Your actions have been part of my grand design all along!" But Alex, Dr. Simmons, and Aria were undeterred. With their combined intelligence and skill, they navigated the chamber's traps and confronted the villain. In a stunning display of teamwork, they trapped him within the energy chamber and sealed him away forever, saving the fabric of time itself. As they stood victorious in the chamber, they knew that their mission had been a success and that history would remain safe from his manipulations. They realized how important it was to never underestimate the power of teamwork and determination. And though their adversary had escaped, they were certain that they could face any challenge together.

#The #Temporal #Paradox #A #Time #Travel #Adventure #with #Twists #and #Turn

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sinkingsidewalks · 4 years ago

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why do memories glow (the way real moments don't)

Chapter 2 - i put all my demons on display

September 2003

After four days at MIT Jemma had decided her least favourite class was review methodology and three weeks later she had yet to change her mind. The prof, Sitwell, was dull – which she expected out of an undergrad but usually higher level instructors actually cared about teaching – the room was cold and too small – there was a draft that came through the walls and it made her shiver for two hours every week – and worst of all there was this boy.

He had to be as young as her, or younger, because he had curly blonde hair like a little kid, and rounded cheeks that her grandfather would have pinched – she knew, even though she barely remembered the man. He stayed after each lecture to talk to the professor for longer than she wanted to wait to have her own conversation with him, and the one time she overheard them talking it was mostly him repeating himself because Sitwell couldn’t understand his accent. And that was the other thing, he was Scottish, which meant everyone in the class automatically lumped them together as the two foreign babies.

The class was familiar, all stuff she had to do for her last degree, which made her dread it even more. But there was no way out of it, it was a requisite for all PhD students at MIT, so she tried to find a way to bear it. Until the class was paired up to peer review each other, and the prof, probably because they’re the same age – she learned that he was only barely older than her – decided they should be partners.

Class ended, she stayed in her seat because she figured he’d need his usual twenty minutes to talk to Sitwell about god knows what. She wondered if he was somehow new to school, maybe it was his first time in an advanced program and he actually didn’t know anything about research practices. She flipped through her notes while she waited, filling in details she’d missed in the lecture, she was nothing if not diligent. Even if she knew all the information already, you could never tell when something would come in handy. She got lost in correcting her spelling and bullet point organization until she heard a throat clear above her.

“Um, hi.” The boy, his name was Fitz, or that’s what she’d heard someone call him, not that she paid extra attention to him.

“Don’t you need to talk to the professor?”

“What?”

“Every week, you talk to the prof for like, half an hour.”

“Oh, no, that’s, he’s a Liverpool fan.”

“Ah,” she said delicately. “Football.”

He sat in the chair next to her and even in the simple action it seemed like his limbs went everywhere. “So, yeah, hi I’m Fitz,”

“Jemma Simmons,” she held out her hand and he shook it too enthusiastically. His hands were cracked dry and calloused, there was a thick bandage over his one thumb.

“Do you have your paper on you? We could swap now and set a time to talk about it later.”

“Yes, right.” She dug through her binder for a moment before coming out with the copy she’d printed to hand off to the prof before he revealed they were doing this swap thing. They were supposed to grade each other’s papers, a learning experience for the TA work lots of grad students did in their later years. “What’s your week look like, I could meet day after tomorrow?”

“Uh, that’s Tuesday,” he stared at the ceiling while he though. “I’m in the lab until two but I could meet after that, we could get lunch?”

“Sure.”

“I’m in Engineering, building five, it’s right across from the student center, we could meet there?”

“Sounds good.”

He clicked out his pen and rolled up the sleeve of his jumper, nodding, writing on his forearm that was already covered in other scribbles of ink, then he dug his paper out of the backpack on his shoulder. “See you then.”

She nodded, took his paper and handed off her own and kept packing up her things. She had another class to get to, this one an upper level on biological engineering that she was auditing because she thought it might take her research in an interesting direction later.

She told herself that she was only going to glance at his paper that night, then get a good night’s sleep for once and do her work in the morning, but she was only two paragraphs in and she knew she wouldn’t be sleeping until she figured this boy out.

There had been essentially no limit on what they could write about, and he’d chosen some cutting edge research on rocket engines, and she was enthralled. She knew nothing about it, she kept having to look up words that weren’t in her dictionary, but it was fascinating, and he was a good writer. He rarely spoke up in class but when he did he stuttered and talked in rambling circles, but his writing was clear, easy to understand if you had a degree in mechanical engineering, which she assumed he did.

She blinked and it was two in the morning, her eyes were burning from squinting in the dim light of her desk lamp and she had sticky notes strewn around with comments and questions littering them. She stacked the papers while taking a swig of her ice cold tea. It would be a struggle the next day not to spend all her reading time in the engineering section of the library, just to figure out some of what he was talking about. She almost cursed herself for setting their meeting in two days. She didn’t want to wait to talk to him again.

Read the rest on AO3

#aos #aos fic #fanfiction #fanfic #fstag #fsfic #fitzsimmons #jemma simmons #leo fitz #aosficnet2 #writing tag #my fic #au

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wfdwqfw · 3 years ago

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On what evidence would a man rely to prove

Recently in Los Angeles, our staff was on the ground Delivering Good by personally handing out sandwiches and new socks to homeless men and women. This my own consciousness of truth would not allow, in the present instance. Teams will have their first opportunity to come together on Sunday, September 20th as the organization hosts the 2nd Annual Run The Park 5K and 1 Mile Fun Run in Ridley Park, PA. “Here is your sword in the darkness.” Light rippled up and down the blade, now red, now yellow, now orange, painting the king’s face in harsh, bright hues. It includes a 1955 telephone switchboard where visitors will learn about the first telephone operators and the days when they were necessary to complete a call. On what evidence would a man rely to prove that slavery existed at all in the land in the time of the batteria ai polimeri di litio amazon later prophets of the Maccabees, or when the Saviour appeared? There are abundant proofs, as we shall see, that it existed legjobb kutyaruha esőkabát in Greece and Rome; but what is the evidence that it existed in Judea? So far as I have been able to ascertain, there are no declarations that it did to be found in the canonical books chaussure rando salomon homme decathlon of the Old Testament, or in Josephus. Never forget when I walked out in the middle of the room and, may he rest in peace, Ray Nitschke adidas mariposas looked at me because I was a surprise guest, and he said, s of a b is still alive. “I will not stay here to be mickey egeres babakocsi insulted.” He wrenched his damp cloak down from the wall so hard that Asha heard it tear, then stalked past Horpe and through the door. The custom was to blow the horn early in the morning, as a signal for the hands to rise and go to work. Ben Carey started the rush and George Michalke took the puck down low. I was astounded. You have doubtless also read that world-renowned book, “Uncle Tom’s Cabin,” by Mrs. "The evening is the red carpet/black tie event of the season and features a champagne reception, arts patronage, bubbles and culture in your own backyard.Surrey Hospital Outpatient Centre Foundation hosts annual Celebration of Care Fundraising Gala on Saturday, March 4 at Boundary Bay Airport, Delta. When she had gone, all at once the hall seemed stifling. Tarly is the real danger, Ser Kevan reflected as he watched their departure. My father was very clever. He had on when he left a black cloth cap, black cloth pantaloons, a plaided sack coat, a fine shirt, and brogan shoes. A house or other substantial building offers the best protection from lightning. And on Saturday she was out at the biciclete rusesti vechi stores again."I'm basically done," said Maguire, who spent about $400 over the weekend. The prince’s cloak was sewn together from more of the same. Deciding what to do when a boy runs into the road). At the Walmart adidas 43 1 3on N. In recent years there have been claims around electromagnetism as a way to alter the body and promote healing. I immediately commenced copying them, and in a short time was able to make the four letters named. A doctor or physical therapist can prescribe a set of exercises designed to do just that for your affected joint. Do not forget if it can be done to the people of Gush Katif , it could happen to us. OG reported 1,416 customers lost power in the Sapulpa and Kiefer areas. He then enlisted into full time duty with the 45th Infantry Division in Army aviation. We could not make it any easier you only need 13 out of 25 to pass and they are all multipul choice.. Without falling into a severe depression?" asked David Evans, the Washington based military correspondent of the Chicago Tribune. Though I’d be the first to leave it if occasion arose. This year's tournament lived up to all its

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jokerfan99 · 5 years ago

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Letterbox (RWBY/RVB) by Necroceph

IMPORTANT NOTICE! Due to some technical difficulties, we were forced to use the oldschool "letterbox" filming style used from RVB's earlier seasons. We are so sorry for this inconvenience and if your modern eyes aren't adapted to this sort of thing, please wait for a remaster of this episode in the next fifty years.

NOTE: According to one of our producers, there is a 1% chance that the characters would become aware of the letterbox, which I believe is very unlikely to happen.

Thank you and enjoy the episode.

*RVB Opening Theme*

On the field between Red and Blue base.

Here's our innocent Ruby Rose strolling on the field after a long day of reconnaissance on the Blues. As always she's in a good mood, but even more because she blew a lap off from the teal one after she overheard him wanting to stick his 'sword' on her.

Ruby: That's what you get for talking dirty, Blue. Huh?

Ruby stopped when her eyes caught a glimpse of something nearby. At first she thought her eyes were tired after a long day of scoping her enemies, but whatever she's looking at looked to real to be an optical illusion. She walks towards it to examine it closely and to her amazement, it is in fact real. In her point of view, it looks like a large rectangular blackhole floating in the air and there's seems to be some kind of blue ring in a size of a fist floating within its black mass.

WARNING: FOURTH WALL BROKEN!!!

Ruby: Woooooooooaaaaaaah! What is this thing?

Looking through the hole, save for the blue ring, there's nothing in there but pitch blackness. To check if there's any space inside, she slowly moves her entire right arm into the hole while her left hand holds the pistol, can't be too sure if there are any "cosmic monsters" waiting to take bite out of her. There's no obstacle in the way, just an empty infinite space of darkness. She quickly removes her arm out and much to her relief, nothing took a bite out of it.

Ruby: Hmm...

But that has yet to satisfy her curiosity. Ruby takes a deep breath and shout into the hole.

Ruby: HELLO!!!

HELLO!!! HELLO!! Hello! hello. hello...

Ruby: *whistle* You don't get see this kind of stuff in the canyon everyday. Grif: Hey Rose, will you stop shouting! I'm trying to get some shut eye here!

Grif and Simmons approached to Ruby.

Ruby: Hi guys look what I found! Grif: Argh it better not be another rock statue carved you from- the fuck?! Simmons: Woah! Ruby, what is that thing?! Ruby: A hole! Grif: A... hole? Ruby: Floating... in the... you get what I mean. Simmons: Extraordinary! It's some kind of mini blackhole or a dimesional rift. Ruby: Or it could be a letterbox with almighty entities watching us for entertainment from the otherside of this hole. Grif:... Simmons:... Ruby: Just a theory I guess?

Not long after that, Donut joins up to check out what everyone's gathering for.

Donut: What's going on? Grif: Rose found this hole in the universe or whatever the fuck it is. Donut: Ooooooohh really? Grif: Yeah but there's nothing great about it. Just a hole floating in the middle of the air. Although it kinda looks like a perfect hiding spot from Sarge. SHOTGUN! Simmons: Waitwaitwait no one is going in there, yet! There's a possibility that inside could be an infinite void of space and if you were to jump in there, you'll be falling for all eternity. Grif: Well it's better than running away. Simmons: I suggest we use a tool to indicate there's any ground in there. Ruby: Why not just drop a rock and hear if it landed on anything. Simmons: We're not caveman, we have technology. That's why I build this echo sensor. Once thrown inside, it will map out the interior and transfer data into my helmet. That way we'll see if there's anything for us to stand on. But we better get a rope ready just in case the height between ground and the opening is too high. Donut: It's not that heigh from the opening Simmons: Then we don't really need... wait, WHAT?!

Everyone turned to Donut, who is now in the hole, who's head is visibly seen through the hole. He seems to be standing perfectly as if there's really is a ground to stand on!

Donut: Ground's flat but smooth as silk. It's a lot better than the floor back at the base. Grif: You were saying about using what now, Simmons? Simmons: You know what... forget what I said! Ruby: What's it like in there? Donut: Oh you know, dark, cold, silent... THIS LOOKS REALLY AWESOME!!!

Deviantart: https://www.deviantart.com/necroceph

#ruby rose #rwby #Rooster Teeth #monty oum #Red vs Blue #franklin delano donut #dick simmons #dexter grif

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cupcakezys · 6 years ago

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Four Days To Fall In Love.

I recently fell back into the Merlin fandom, and this is a little something I’ve been working on ever since, so I hope you enjoy! A soulmate au, but with a little twist. Inspired by Strike of Lightning by helloearthlings.

Part Two of Four. Previous. Next.

Read on AO3.

Pairings: Arthur/Merlin, Gwen/Morgana.

Summary: In a world where everyone has a soulmate (or two or three), Arthur Pendragon knows he is destined to be alone. For Arthur can see his heartstring, could follow it to where his soulmate lived, and that could only mean one thing. His soulmate had magic, and should they ever meet, Arthur would have to kill them.

Gold

When Merlin was three, his mother told him of magic in hushed tones, and how those who used it were hunted and killed, like the rabbits some of the men sometimes brought back for their families. He didn’t really understand, but when his mother told him that other people would be scared, and that he could only use his magic around her, he had agreed. His mother was the smartest person in the world after all, and Merlin didn’t want to scare anyone.

He used his magic at home all the time. His mother always gave him a fond smile whenever she saw his eyes flash gold, even while reminding him to never use it in front of anyone else. Merlin would nod seriously, telling his mother he knew. Then he’d grin and magic the dust into a bird that flew around his head.

After his mother told him everything she knew about magic, she told him everything she knew about soulmates.

Merlin had taken to staring at his wrist after that, laughing and dancing with the golden string. It liked to wrap around him, like it was keeping him safe in a big hug, the way his mother did on cold nights or when he got scared. Both of them made him feel safe.

His mother told him he couldn’t tell other people that he could see the string, because it would scare them like his magic did. Merlin didn’t really get why, because the golden string was beautiful! Everyone should get to see it. But he did as his mother said, because she was his mother, and she was the smartest person in the whole world.

///

On Merlin’s sixth birthday, he decided he would follow his heartstring until he found his soulmate. He was a big boy now, his mother had told him, and finding the one on the other end of his heartstring seemed much more fun than helping his mother and the other villagers in the fields. The other villagers didn’t like him anyway. They called him names, like “bastard” and “freak”. Old Man Simmons had even called him a monster once, because he had accidentally set fire to his fence. Merlin hadn’t meant to, but his magic often did things he didn’t want it to. His mother had apologised fiercely, and then scolded Merlin for playing with torches loudly in front of everyone.

Anyway, the village didn’t like him, and his mother was better off without him if the women he had overheard were to be believed, so Merlin figured now he was a big boy he could leave to find someone that did want him. Besides, finding his soulmate was something he’d wanted to do for years, ever since he was old enough to fully understand what it meant.

Merlin stuffed the little bag his mother kept next to her bed with his spare shirt and all the food he could find. He didn’t know how far away his soulmate was, but his mother had taken him out into the forest before and taught him the basics of plants, and Merlin knew which ones he could eat. He was confident he could do this. After all, he had his magic, and his soulmate couldn’t be that far.

He left his mother a note, because he knew she’d probably worry, even if he didn’t think she should. Merlin knew what he was doing. His handwriting was still a little messy, but his mother had taught him well, and he was a quick learner. He left his note on the bed, where his mother was sure to find it. Then he walked out the door and out of the village.

He hadn’t gotten very far into the forest when he started to doubt his plan a little. He had never been this far away from the village before, especially not without his mother there next to him. Still, he had thought, he was a big boy now. This is what big boys did. They went into the forest and gathered herbs and fish, and even hunted rabbits sometimes. Merlin didn’t know how to do those things, but that was okay. He had something none of the other big boys did. He had his magic.

The sun was starting to set when Merlin realised he didn’t recognise where he was anymore. Worry started building in his chest the longer he walked, following his heartstring through the woods. He hadn’t expected his soulmate to be so far away. Worry steadily gave way to fear. It was dark now. Merlin didn’t normally mind the dark, but right now he hated it.

Something screeched above him, and Merlin screamed, tears already falling as he dashed through the forest. He just wanted to go home! This was a bad idea, and he should never have left, and he wasn’t a big boy, he was small and afraid, and he just wanted his mother!

His magic had rippled in the air around him, and suddenly he heard someone calling his name. He sobbed, vision blurry from tears, and ran into his mother’s open arms. She yelled at him, telling him that he had scared her and that he was never to run off again. Merlin promised her he’d never leave the house, not so long as he lived. The forest was terrifying.

His mother carried him home. It felt like no time at all before he was tucked into bed, pulled tight against his mother as if she were afraid he’d disappear again. Merlin had told her not to worry. He wasn’t going anywhere. Not ever.

Of course, childish promises like that were always going to be impossible to keep.

///

When Merlin was nine, his soulmate started to die. He had never quite been able to describe how he knew. It was like a tightening in his chest, a strain on his heartstring and a distressed buzzing of his magic all at once. It had irritated him at first, and had only grown worse as the days dragged on. He complained to his mother, but she had no idea how to help him. She gave him special tea every night, to ease his chest. Merlin didn’t tell her that it never helped.

By the second week, Merlin had had enough.

He had been tossing and turning all night, the dust from the floor kicking up every time he moved. He glared at the ceiling. His chest hurt, and his head was pounding, worse than he’d ever felt before. And his back was itchy. That was new. He grumbled and turned on his stomach, only to immediately roll back over.

He had sat up suddenly, fed up and tired and hurting. He quietly grabbed his coat and eased their door open, his magic smothering the noises it would normally make so his mother wouldn’t wake. He slipped out the door, breathing in the cold air.

Merlin wandered for a little, weaving between houses until he came to the edge of the village. He glanced at the woods, weary, and made for the fields. The wheat was growing tall, almost above his head, so Merlin knew no one would be able to see him. He got as far away from any houses as he could, then sat down, immediately being engulfed by the crops growing around him.

His magic buzzed under his skin. It reacted to his irritation, and underneath that, his worry. His soulmate was dying, and Merlin hadn’t even met them yet! Of course he was worried. He stared up at the stars, wondering if his soulmate was looking at them too. They should be. They were beautiful tonight.

His heartstring pulled at his arm. He watched it tighten around his wrist, then relax. Like it was asking him to do something.

His magic buzzed in time with each tug, and Merlin suddenly understood what his heartstring wanted. What his soulmate needed.

He sat up quickly. For a few seconds he was at a loss on how exactly he was supposed to do what was needed. He closed his eyes, trying to think of all the things his mother had told him about magic and soulmates over the years. Trying to find something that would help him. Nothing he recalled would help him here however, and he quickly drew frustrated. He knew what to do, he just didn’t know how!

On instinct he cupped his hands together. His magic sang as it rushed down his arms and into his fingertips. Merlin felt something gather, trapped between his fingers. He screwed his eyes shut as tight as he could, feeling the ache in his chest, and suddenly all he could think was go away, go away, go away!

The air around him shifted, and all the breath seemed to drain from his lungs. Wind was stirring his hair, and Merlin was almost afraid to open his eyes and see what he had done.

When he finally worked up the courage, he gasped. He could feel the magic thrumming through him, still gathering in his fingers. It left his eyes glowing gold, he knew, as gold as his heartstring was, and probably glowing just as bright. For a moment, Merlin was amazed that no one else could see it, for his heartstring was glowing brighter than he had ever seen it before. It shone gold like the sun, making him question if it was still nighttime at all.

Then he looked down to his cupped hands, and his world was filled with green. It was the green of the earth, the green of his mother’s special tea, and the green of life. Merlin knew it, sure as he knew his own name. The source of that green was a little light, growing steadily between his hands as more and more of Merlin’s magic flowed into it. He stared at it for a long time, watching it as it grew and grew.

When it was as big as his fist, Merlin opened his hands.

It floated up, hovering just above his head. His heartstring danced around it, seemingly overjoyed at what Merlin had managed to create. Merlin was happy too. With this, he knew, his soulmate would be just fine.

“Go.” He whispered.

Instantly the green ball zoomed away, following his heartstring into the distance. Merlin bolted upright, chasing after it until it was only a small speck next to the faint gold of his heartstring. He watched for a while, wondering when it would reach his soulmate. Hopefully soon. He didn’t want his efforts to be in vain, for his soulmate to die before his magic got there to heal him. He sent a quick prayer to the gods, the way he had seen his mother do sometimes, and rushed home.

The next morning, when he woke, Merlin realized he didn’t hurt anymore. His magic was calm, flowing happily through him like it had for all his life. His chest no longer ached, and the weird itch in his back was gone as suddenly as it had appeared. He told his mother what had happened, and though she bit her lip in worry, she praised him for using his magic to help. Merlin had spent the day buzzing with pride, helping his mother with the chores with a kind of enthusiasm he had never had before.

For a long time, that night had been the proudest he had ever been of himself and his magic.

///

The first time Merlin punched someone else, he was twelve. Two older boys had cornered him while he was on his way back from collecting water for his mother. He was trapped between Old Man Simmons’ barn and the back of an old house that had been empty for as long as he could remember. It was away from the main part of town, and that had probably been Merlin’s downfall.\

At first he didn’t think anything of it. The boys of the village liked to tease him, or yell at him, or even throw rocks at him sometimes. Merlin had learned to ignore the calls of “bastard” and “freak” a long time ago, and he’d become quite the expert dodger, if he did say so himself. He hardly even noticed when they started following him.

It was impossible to ignore when someone pushed him hard from behind, making him drop the bucket and fall to the ground. Merlin scrambled, twisting on the wet earth to face his attackers. He recognized his usual bullies and glared from his spot on the ground. Both boys were smirking at him, their hands pulled into fists.

“What are you doing here, bastard?” Thomas, the baker’s son, sneered.

Alister, one of Crazy Tully’s sons, laughed. “Making trouble, as usual.”

Merlin felt his magic rear up in response to his anger, but quickly forced it down. He took deep, calming breaths, like his mother had taught him, and pushed himself to his feet. His jacket was completely soaked, and he’d have to go refill the bucket, but that was okay. He would take the long route home this time, along the main road where no one could sneak up on him.

He bent down to grab the bucket and was promptly pushed over again.

Thomas erupted in laughter, especially when Merlin glared up at him with dirt covering half his face. “What are you gunna do, bastard? Gunna stand up and fight, or fall over in the mud some more?”

Alister snorted, an ugly sound, and goaded him on. “Yeah, what ya gunna do, freak?”

Merlin’s magic boiled. He barely held it back, knew that the instant his eyes started glowing his secret would be out to the whole village. And that would lead to him either being captured and sold to Cenred’s army or dragged off to Uther to be burnt on the pyre. Neither sounded very appealing.

So, Merlin breathed deep again. Once he had his magic under some semblance of control he hauled himself once again to his feet. He glared at his attackers, and without saying a word or reaching for the bucket again, turned for home.

Only to immediately be stopped by Thomas’s sneer.

“Oh, he’s just gunna run away! Like father like son, right Alister? Just a pair of good for nothings that run away when times get tough.”

Merlin saw red. He wasn’t even sure how he did it, but one moment he was a good ten paces away from the laughing bullies, and the next his fist was making contact with Thomas’s nose.

There was blood everywhere. Merlin was slightly alarmed at how much blood there was, and how Thomas’s nose was bent at an angle that was not at all natural. It made Merlin feel slightly sick, if he were being honest, but it also made satisfaction coil tight in his belly.

Then Thomas had started screaming, and something hard and heavy slammed into the side of Merlin’s head. He fell to the ground again, landing roughly on his back. He groaned and reached up to cradle his face. He held still for all of three seconds before something heavy was on his chest, and then his vision cleared enough to see Alister sitting on him, Merlin’s bucket raised above his head, blood already decorating the bottom of it. Dizzily Merlin realized it was his blood, from his head.

Then he realized what was going to happen next, and started struggling as best he was able. His magic was almost a tangible thing in the air now, growing the more his panic grew, and Merlin knew if Alister brought the bucket down it would react even if he desperately didn’t want it to.

Then someone had hauled Alister off him, mere moments before the other boy would have slammed the bucket down onto Merlin’s face.

Merlin immediately scrambled backwards as his savior got on top of Alister, mirroring the way Alister had been on Merlin’s chest seconds earlier, and started punching him in the face. Merlin watched, entranced, as the new boy brought his fists down again and again, until Alister was bleeding from his nose just like Thomas was, except he was also bleeding from his lip and his eye was already turning black.

Merlin crawled forward when he saw that, careful of the still spinning world, and grabbed his savior by the arm before he could punch Alister again. The boy turned around, eyes wide and wild, and finally Merlin saw who it was that had saved him.

“William.” He whispered, not sure he could talk any louder. “It’s ok. That’s enough. You’ll kill him.”

William growled. “He tried to kill you!”

“Please.” Merlin pleaded, tugging on his arm.

He had been reluctant, Merlin had seen that, but eventually he had let his fists drop. He got up from Alister slowly, glaring at him the whole time. Thomas scurried over, crying and with blood all over his face, and stared at them the whole time he dragged his friend away and towards the center of town. Probably to tell them all that Merlin had attacked them, that he was the monster.

Something in Merlin’s chest went cold.

And then promptly warmed again when a hand fell on his shoulder. “We sure showed them, didn’t we?”

Merlin startled and flinched back from William’s triumphant grin. “Why did you help me?”

William blinked, like he hadn’t though Merlin would be that blunt. “They were going to kill you. I couldn’t just stand back and watch.”

“Most everyone else would have.” Merlin said, and hated how much it hurt that it was true.

William drew himself up. “Well I’m not everyone else! I wouldn’t let an innocent die when I could do something about it. That’s stupid, and cowardly.”

Merlin nodded slowly, and because he had never really talked to anyone besides him mum, blurted out. “Your father died in the war.”

William’s face went cold, and Merlin thought he was about to be the one held down and punched. “He did. You dad left before you were born.”

Merlin nodded again. “He did.”

William looked him up and down. “You’re kind of a weakling, huh?”

“Hey!” Merlin yelled, offended, because while he might not be physically strong, he was certainly strong in other ways. “Did you save my life just to be an ass?”

William gasped. “No! I saved your life ‘cause I thought it was cool the way you punched Thomas. He’s the ass, and he definitely deserved it.”

Merlin snorted and crossed his arms, head throbbing. “Yeah he did. I thought it was cool the way you punched Alister. He deserved it too.”

“Yeah, most definitely.” William nodded, then grinned. “We make a pretty good team, don’t you think.”

Merlin startled for a moment, before grinning. “Yeah. The best team.”

William held out his hand. “I’m Will, and I think we should keep being a team. What about you?”

Merlin grasped Will’s hand in his own, laughing. “I’m Merlin. And I’d love to be a team.”

So, Merlin first punched someone when he was twelve summers old. His mother scolded him for a long time after, even while she fixed his head up and held him close when he told her about Alister trying to kill him. Merlin didn’t really mind. He thought that after everything, that day had been one of the best ever.

Because after that day, Merlin had a best friend named Will, and they were going to take on the world together.

///

When Merlin was sixteen his best and only friend found out about his magic. It was an accident on a day that started out as any other. Merlin had been working in the fields when Will found him, skipping out on his own chores as usual. And, as usual, he managed to entice Merlin away from his chores to go cause mischief.

The mischief of the day turned out to be letting all of Crazy Tully’s chickens out of their yard an hour before they were going to be killed for dinner.

The plan was simple. Will would keep a look out and distract anyone coming their way while Merlin snuck around the back of the house and let the chickens loose. Will got into position, leaning against the side of the house, looking for all the world like he was meant to be there. Merlin waited in the shadows for a moment, watching a few people walk past the house, then slipped around to the chickens.

It took him a moment to open the latch. When he managed to wrestle it open, he was greeted with four curious chickens. Merlin grinned and opened the gate a little wider.

“You’re free.” He whispered.

The chickens launched towards him. Merlin scrambled back, laughing as each chicken seemed to dip its head to him before running off into the village proper, clicking wildly as they went. Someone screamed from inside Crazy Tully’s house, and instantly Will was at his side, and together they were off, running as far away from the chaos as possible. They only stopped when they reached the very edge of the forest, and from there they chose a tree and climbed, higher and higher until they could see the rest of the village.

Will settled on the branch just above Merlin, laughing as he watched Alister run in circles after a chicken. “This was a brilliant idea. I’m brilliant.”

Merlin laughed, kicking his feet in delight as Old Man Simmons was almost knocked over by Alister. “One of your best Will.”

Will nudged him on the shoulder with his foot. “Don’t sell yourself short Merlin. You were a vital part of this plan.”

Merlin laughed again, hitting Will’s foot away. “Yes, because you couldn’t have opened a latch on your own. You just wanted me to get in trouble with you, you ass.”

“Oi!” Will said, kicking out with his foot again. “No one’s getting in trouble, thank you very much, because no one saw it was us.”

Merlin snorted. “You hope.”

“We hope Merlin. You’ll be in trouble too, remember?”

Merlin looked up, a scalding comeback already on his tongue, when an ominous crack filled the air. Both boys had a moment to look in horror at Will’s branch before it gave way under his weight. Merlin felt a scream get stuck in his throat as time slowed, and he watched with his heart pounding in his ears as Will desperately lunged for the trunk of the tree, only to miss it and hit Merlin’s branch instead. That too let out a loud crack, and this time Merlin screamed aloud as he began to fall with Will.

Will twisted in midair, grabbing him and pulling him so Merlin was above Will. He knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, that Will was trying to save him, to cushion his fall, but he was too busy panicking to fully understand, because they were falling and from this height they would be seriously hurt, they might even die, and Merlin could not lose Will, he just couldn’t.

He did it without even thinking. He grabbed Will’s shoulders and wished with all his might to stop.

Merlin opened his eyes a second later, after closing them against the wind as they plummeted. That wind was gone now. He blinked, looking around. They seemed to be floating just above the ground, and Merlin could see where the branches they had been sitting on had crashed and broken on the ground next to them. He gulped, trying hard to keep from imagining it as his spine, or Will’s.

It was Will’s chocked gasp that seemed to wake Merlin from his thoughts. He jerked, startled, and the spell ended. Merlin landed on Will with a small “oof”, and then quickly scrambled up and back a few steps. Will lay still for a moment, then forced his arms underneath himself. His eyes met Merlin’s and they both froze.

They stayed like that for a few seconds, Will on his back on the floor and Merlin standing, hovering a few steps away, waiting for Will to scream and run away in fear.

Instead, Will laughed, causing Merlin to jump. “You have magic.”

Merlin bit his lip, and hesitantly nodded. “Yeah.”

His voice was weak, even to his own ears, but Will simply laughed some more and flopped back down on the grass. “Bloody hell.”

Merlin gulped again, carefully sitting down near Will’s feet. “Are… are you alright?”

“Thanks to you!” Will sat up, grinning at Merlin, and something in his chest loosened. “When in the bloody hell did you learn to do that?”

Merlin had looked to the floor and shrugged, still waiting for Will to run screaming. “I didn’t. I’ve just always been able to do things.”

Will was quiet for a few minutes, staring at him, before he got that mischievous glint in his eye. “Can you do other things with it?”

Merlin nodded slowly, carefully. “Yes.”

Will grinned. “So you could steal some of Merek’s pies without him ever noticing? Cause he’s caught me the last three times I’ve tried, and I was running out of ways to try and grab one.”

Merlin had barked out a laugh, staring at Will as he processed that he had not just been utterly rejected by the only friend he’d ever had. Another laugh fell from his lips, and then Will had frowned slightly, and Merlin had realized he was crying. Then there were arms around him, and he hugged Will back tightly, letting himself fall apart slightly.

It took a lifetime before Merlin drew back, checks still wet from his tears. Will kept an arm around him, patiently waiting for Merlin to calm down. Merlin shot him a watery smile.

“I was afraid you’d hate me.” He’d whispered.

Will had grinned, the way he did when Merlin did something particularly stupid. “Come on Merlin. I could never hate you. We’re a team, remember?”

“Yeah.” Merlin sniffed.

Merlin grinned, and Will slowly helped him to stand. They helped each other back into town, heading for Merlin’s house. Soon enough they were shoving each other, laughing and running through their village. Merlin felt like he was flying. Will had accepted his magic. More than that, Will liked his magic, and wanted to see more of it. Merlin let out a whoop and jumped up, causing Will to laugh and yell along side him.

Just as they reached Merlin’s house, out of breath and panting, Merlin turned to Will. He stopped his friend from going inside, and quickly glanced around to make sure they were alone. Then he leaned close to whisper in Will’s ear.

“You can’t tell anyone about my magic.” He whispered seriously. “Don’t even tell my mum you know. She’d freak out.”

Will nodded. “Alright.”

Merlin grinned and opened the door to his house, yelling for his mother as he did so.

///

Three weeks after Will found out about his magic, he and Merlin were huddled together in Will’s house, whispering and laughing under a worn blanket. Will’s mother was outside, tending to their one old chicken that had stopped giving eggs a while ago. She had sighed and loudly decided that they would probably be having chicken this coming winter.

Will elbowed him, saying in a voice that could barely be counted as a whisper. “Do some magic!”

Merlin’s insides had done a little flip, as they always did whenever Will asked him to do magic. “Like what?”

Will shoved the blanket off his head, glancing around his house, before pointing to the cold fireplace. “Light it.”

Merlin poked his head out too, and narrowed his eyes, considering. “I can try.”

He had glared at the fireplace, imagining warm flames and thinking fire fire fire, and then flames burst to life. Will laughed and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. His eyes never left the fire, and he looked so awestruck Merlin felt both proud and embarrassed.

“That’s amazing.” Will said.

Merlin mumbled under his breath, bumping his shoulder and sending him an embarrassed smile. They sat in silence, letting the warmth of the fire seep into their bones. The house around them was dark and cold in comparison, the night sky outside covered by clouds. It was like they were the only people in the world, and the thought made Merlin move closer to the fire.

“Merlin?” Will spoke hesitantly, and only continued when Merlin hummed. “Since you have magic, that means you can see your heartstring, right?”

Merlin glanced to the golden string wrapped around his right wrist. “Yeah.”

“What’s it look like?” He asked. “I’ve always wondered.”

Merlin watched his heartstring dance around the flames of his fire in all its golden glory. He raised a hand to touch it, shivering as the almost unreal softness of it slid along his fingers. He smiled, relaxing as his heartstring began to curl around his arm in response to his touch.

“It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” He had said honestly. “Mine is golden, but mum says everyone’s is different. Even soulmates don’t have the same color heartstring. It dances in the air, but I think that’s cause I’m so far away from my soulmate. Mum says it pulls taunt like a bowstring the closer you get to each other. And it’s the softest thing I’ve ever felt. Nothing else has ever come close to how soft it is.”

Will stared, mouth hanging open slightly, staring at his own wrists. “I wish I could see it.”

Merlin startled at the barely-there whisper. “Really?”

Will nodded. “It sounds…”

Merlin chuckled as Will gestured with his hands, unable to find the right word. “Yeah.”

They were silent for a while, then Will whispered, even quieter than before. “I could learn magic and see it.”

Merlin tensed, staring at his friend. “Would you really do that?”

“Yeah.” Will turned to the fire. “One day you could teach me, and then we could travel the world to find our soulmates.”

“While doing magic that’s either illegal or hunted to be used in an army.”

Will had just laughed him off. “We’d fight them all off! You and me Merlin, we’re the best team. No one would be able to beat us.”

Merlin grinned, imagining Will’s perfect future. “It sounds amazing.”

“Yeah.” Will sighed.

They spent that night whispering to each other, imagining all the things they would do in the future.

///

When Merlin was eighteen his mother found out Will knew about his magic. She yelled at him for almost an hour that evening, telling him how he had to keep it a secret or he’d be killed or worse. Merlin had yelled back at that, because Will was his best friend and he trusted him to never, ever tell anyone about him. His mother had retreated to the kitchen afterwards, and it had only taken Merlin five minutes to go to her and apologize.

His mother had held him for a long time, and they’d both whispered apologies for all that had been said.

Three days later his magic started acting out in a way it hadn’t since he was a baby. It started with just little things. Whenever he needed something it would fly into his hands, and it took him a week to admit it to his mother. She was worried, he knew, but there wasn’t really anything they could do. His mother knew the bare minimum of magic, and Merlin had always just tried his best to keep it under control.

Things came to a head when Merlin was goofing off with Will. They’d been messing around in the woods, laughing and shoving each other as they looked for fish for their mothers. They both knew how to fish, of course, but Merlin’s magic kept reaching into the water every time they spotted one, dragging it out and into Will’s waiting hands. They had both startled the first time, but now they were using it to their advantage to complete their chores and goof off.

They were on their way back to Will’s house when they spotted Old Man Simmons grumbling to himself under a tree. Merlin stopped, debating walking around him to avoid any trouble, but then realised that would add another ten minutes to their journey. Will had realised the same thing, for he had squared his shoulders and sent Merlin a look. He nodded back, and together they moved to walk past the old man.

Immediately Simmons had sneered at them, his half blind eyes squinting in suspicion. “Well well well, what are you brats doing out in the woods?”

Will glared. “None of your business old man.”

Simmons glared at them. “It is my business if you’re causing trouble. And you two are always causing trouble.”

Merlin grabbed Will’s arm and tried to pull him away. “Listen, we just want to get home. We weren’t causing any trouble.”

“I don’t believe that for an instant.” Simmons sneered. “Now why don’t you two tell me the truth, before I go and tell everyone else that you were poaching off in the woods?”

“We weren’t poaching!” Will yelled. “We caught fish!”

“Prove it!” Simmons growled.

Merlin clutched his bag closer, feeling the weight of their catch. “No way! We’re not letting you get your grubby hands on our fish! You’d probably steal them.”

Simmons gasped, a ragged sound ripped from old lungs. “How dare you! I’m no thief. You two, however, are obviously more trouble than you’re worth. I’ll tell all of Ealdor about this! They’ll kick you out, like they should have a long time ago!”

Merlin had felt his anger rise up, crawling and itching under his skin, and before he knew it his magic was rearing up too. There was an awful crack that echoed through the forest, and then Will was yelling and dragging both Merlin and Simmons back. Merlin barely had time to recognise the tree beginning to fall on them before it had crashed to the ground at his feet.

Simmons started screaming, something about unnatural happenings and freaks, and Merlin forgot how to breathe. Old Man Simmons couldn’t know about his magic, he just couldn’t, because he would tell everyone, and then Merlin would be dragged off to be tortured and used as a weapon, or dragged of and murdered by a mad king, his mother and Will with him.

A hand slammed down on his shoulder, and it took him a moment to realise it was Will. His friend pulled him along, leaving a still screaming Simmons behind. He didn’t stop pulling until they were safely back in Merlin’s house.

“What happened?” His mother had asked, rushing out of the kitchen and towards them.

Merlin still couldn’t breath, so Will had to explain in rushed sentences and short words what had happened. His mother gasped when Will told her about the tree falling, and that was when Merlin finally seemed to get his voice back.

“I didn’t mean to Mum, I swear.” He whispered, shivering. “He was just being such an ass, and I was so mad, and then my magic was reacting before I could even think!”

He clung to his mother as she pulled him into her arms, and Will kept one hand on his shoulder. Merlin had slowly calmed down, and that night Will had spent the night curled up on the floor with him, talking about their perfect future again. Merlin wasn’t quite so enthusiastic this time, but he still listened as Will prattled on about finding their soulmates and learning magic and fighting all the wrongs in the world.

///

A month later, right after Merlin had turned nineteen, his mother sat him down and told him he would be going to Camelot.

Well, all right, she hadn’t told him right away he was going to Camelot. She said that when his magic had stared acting out she had written a letter for a good friend of hers. Apparently she used to know a man that had practiced magic, and she thought he would be able to help Merlin learn control. His name was Gaius, his mother had told him, and she had just gotten a letter back from him saying he’d be willing to look after Merlin.

“I didn’t tell him about your magic.” She warned. “I didn’t want to scare him. But I’ll give you another letter, explaining everything, that you can give to him when you arrive.”

Merlin had agreed, and it was only then that she had told him Gaius lived in Camelot. Not only that, but he was the Court Physician and lived in the castle! Merlin wanted to refuse to go, because surely Camelot of all places would be the worst place for him to go, but his mother insisted that he needed to learn control. Looking back on what had happened with Old Man Simmons, Merlin had to agree. His magic was getting out of hand, and sooner or later someone else was going to notice.

And so, a week later, Merlin was saying goodbye to his mother, Will, and the only place he had ever called home. Will had wanted him to stay, and then had wanted to come with him, but they both knew he wasn’t going to leave his mother, and so he had been sulking until Merlin was hefting his pack and staring down the road leading to Camelot.

His mother hugged him tightly, made sure he had everything for the hundredth time, and then stepped back. Will hugged him too, tight enough to break Merlin’s ribs if he wasn’t careful. Merlin didn’t mind. He hugged back just as hard. When they separated Will messed up his hair, laughing like they didn’t both have tears in their eyes.

Merlin turned to wave at them both one last time before he focused on the path in front of him.

Despite the sadness he felt, despite the way he wanted to just turn around and damn this whole idea to hell, and despite the underlying fear that was always there, Merlin knew he couldn’t turn back now. His heartstring wound around him and down the path he was walking, ensuring that even if he lost the path, he wouldn’t lose his way.

Merlin felt his heartstring tighten minutely with every step he took.

His soulmate was in Camelot, he just knew it, and he was going to find them.

No, there was no going back now.

///��

And that’s the end of part one! If you wish to support me, please consider donating to my PayPal.

#merlin #bbc merlin #merthur #merlin/arthur #morgwen #gwen/morgana #soulmate #soulmates au #merlin fanfiction #FDTFIL #Heartstrings AU #my writing #cakeswriting

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theartofbeinganerd · 6 years ago

Text

can’t have you (but oh, how I want to)

Alright, it’s the first day of my Summer of Writing, and I thought what better way to kick it off than with Chapter Five of one of my fics left over from last year’s. And, well, who doesn’t like some good old-fashioned Academy AU?? ;D

Also, I know nothing of The Science, only what Google told me. Just go with it, okay?

(Ao3)

As per usual, Jemma arrived to chemistry class early, finding only a few of her other classmates already milling around the classroom. Her gaze was immediately drawn to the lab bench that she now shared with Fitz, situated off to the left of the room and in one of the middle rows.

Upon finding it still empty, she breathed a sigh of relief and fully entered the room, striding toward it purposefully. Perching on her stool, she got settled, placing her textbook and notebook on the table and tucking her bag beneath the bench.

Jemma and Fitz had only been lab partners for a couple of weeks now, and she’d come to find out that she enjoyed the few minutes that she had alone at the table before he arrived, and they then spent the whole period sitting there awkwardly next to each other and in absolute silence.

She had no clue if it was because he’d overheard her talking to Patterson about changing lab partners or something else, but he seemed somehow even tenser around her now. He would sit beside her with his back ramrod straight and his stool situated as far from hers as possible, as though he was afraid to breathe the same air as her or something.

Truly, Jemma tried not to, but she just couldn’t help but take it so personally that Fitz didn’t want to talk to her, to look at her, to even acknowledge her. Sure, she understood that he was competing with her for top of the class, and to stand out amongst their peers, but that didn’t mean that he had to be so cold to her all the time.

It had been months now since they’d first met, and she liked to think that she was over one single person at the Academy not liking her, but she had to admit that simply wasn’t; whether she was worrying about when Fitz was going to get to class, or if she was trying to calculate about how quickly Fitz was going to finish his test, or if she trying to figure out why Fitz didn’t like her, it seemed that her thoughts were always revolving around him.

And, well, truthfully, she wasn’t sure if she was more frustrated or exasperated by that fact.

So, she’d been doing her best to try and consciously not focus as much on her rival, and instead pour all of that focus into her homework and class work – though, admittedly, it was a bit difficult to do so when said rival was her chemistry partner.

She would’ve thought that having a lab partner that refused to speak to her would make doing joint experiments altogether impossible (and maybe, hoped that Patterson would notice it and give her a new one), but somehow, they’d managed to perfectly complete each assignment they were given, working together effortlessly in silence. He would pass her the tool or chemical that she was about to ask for before the words could ever leave her mouth (which still surprised her, every single time), and he didn’t even question her math like she’d thought that he might, just to be obnoxious – he just accepted it.

In some ways, Fitz actually was the perfect partner for her, and Jemma hated the very idea of that.

The sound of the stool beside her scraping along the floor as it was pulled out had Jemma glancing up automatically, just in time to see Fitz dropping down onto it. He never once met her gaze or said a word to her (not that she expected him to), he just planted his clasped hands on the tabletop and stared blankly down at them as he waited for the class to begin.

She noticed him twiddling his thumbs absently, could hear the soles of his ratty old trainers tapping anxiously against the metal rung on his stool. She almost, almost said something, just to break the tension, but she caught herself just in time (and it isn’t the first time either; it happened every single time that there was an especially awkward silence hanging between them), and fortunately, Patterson rushed into the classroom then, apologizing for his lateness, and saved her from another chance to get shot down yet again.

Though Fitz felt a bit badly about it, he tuned out Patterson’s voice as he began the day’s lesson, and instead spent the class period as he had each of the previous ones; thinking up and dismissing potential topics to discuss with Simmons from the long list of them currently scrolling through his brain.

Each time, he was sure that he’d found something that he knew enough about to appear impressive to Simmons so that they could finally strike up a conversation– for about a minute. Then, he would always be struck by the horrifying thought of, “but what if she knows more about it than I do?” and he would then immediately drop it to move onto the next one, only to repeat the process again and again.

He’d managed to hear in passing that Simmons’s specialty was in the biochemical field, so he’d made a mental note to stay far away from anything in that area – he would try to bring up something to with engineering, but he couldn’t help the fear tickling at the back of his mind that she’d somehow taken an engineering elective before or something and already knew everything that he could potentially say.

Fitz had no how vast her intellect was, after all, but from what he’d witnessed so far, it had no limits.

However, Fitz was also aware of the fact that he was running out of time to find the perfect thing to say to her; she’d already no doubt labeled him as someone not on her level, and instead found some equally as brilliant upperclassmen to hang around with.

He could still remember clearly the day that he and Simmons had first been paired up as lab partners, when he’d managed to build up his confidence enough to wait for her after class. He’d spent the rest of the period telling himself over and over that if he was going to be partnered with her, then he was going to have to speak to her sometime, so he might as well just get it over with already.

But, then he’d overheard her asking Patterson for a different partner, and upon fleeing from making the situation even more embarrassing for himself, he’d almost given up completely on trying to talk to her. After all, he’d been sure then that nothing he could say would be able to change her mind, not if she already thought that he was some sort of idiot that simply wasn’t worth her time.

Then, he’d shown up for class the next week and sat down next to her, and she’d smiled shyly at him and passed him his copy of their worksheet, and though she hadn’t said much, she’d still worked with him without a single complaint that he was dumb, or said anything about wanting a smarter lab partner.

And so, Fitz had subsequently decided to keep trying, bolstered by the idea that she didn’t seem to be dismissing him quite yet.

It had, though, definitely served to increase his panicked efforts to find that perfect thing to say to her. He’d had several chances during their joint experiments, of course. Every single time, though, he’d chickened out, talked himself out of even trying, and convinced himself that there was something better that he just hadn’t thought of yet.

He was going to have to find it soon, though – despite how well they worked together without speaking, Fitz had noticed the strange, bemused looks that Patterson had been shooting their way every time that he seemed to notice that they weren’t discussing anything as they did it.

In fact, he imagined that it was only a matter of time before he intervened and made Fitz talk to Simmons, taking away any chance that he had at that elusive, perfect first impression.

Jemma hopefully eyed on the clock on the far wall of the classroom, her shoulders slumping when she realized that there was still a good fifteen minutes of the class period left. She and Fitz had been done with their assigned work for the day for quite some time by then, and with all of her homework for her other classes finished and ready to be handed in, she didn’t have much else to do to pass the time.

With nothing else in mind, she’d gotten her biology text out of her bag, and had it open in front of her on the table. She’d been idly skimming through their next upcoming chapter, but she’d of course already read it through recently, so there wasn’t much else for her to do there until they actually began the unit.

Absently, Jemma began tapping the eraser at the end of her pencil against the book, thinking woefully that this was one of the only problems with being so advanced, and so far ahead of her classmates. She couldn’t even count how many days that she’d spent bored in classes growing up, already finished with her work and waiting for everyone else to catch up with her.

Despite herself, she wondered then if Fitz (a fellow prodigy, from what she could tell) had ever gone though the same thing, wondered if he was one of the few people that could truly understand what it’d been like for her.

The simple thought of him seemed to cause her to automatically seek him out, and before she could think it through, she found herself peeking out of the corner of her eye at him. He was hunched over the table beside her, working on something or another, scribbling out his answers quickly and effortlessly.

Suddenly, she was curious to know what other classes he was taking at the Academy (in fact, she didn’t even know for sure what his specialty was – she’d heard around campus that he was in one of the more technical fields, but she didn’t know which one, or if what she’d heard was even correct). And so, with nothing else interesting to occupy her time, she gave into the curiosity and slowly began to shift a bit closer, craning her neck carefully to try and get a peek at what was on the paper.

And, she had just managed to identify what she thought must be physics when Fitz suddenly glanced up and caught her red-handed, spying on his work.

Letting out a tiny squeak, Jemma quickly moved back to her side of the table, her face absolutely burning in her embarrassment. He’d stopped writing, and was just staring at her, his eyebrows high on his forehead and his lips parted slightly, and she searched desperately for something to say, some excuse for her actions, or a distraction of some sort from what had just happened.

However, when she cleared her throat and finally spoke, what came out was, “Um, so…physics?”

Fitz had no idea what to do – minutes ago, he’d been doing his physics homework (it was his next class for the day, and he’d forgotten all about it being due until just then), half-focusing on answering the relatively easy questions, and half-focusing on his list of possible conversation starters. He’d just rejected several more possibilities, and was despairing, as per usual, in the very real chance that he might never be able to secure Jemma Simmons as an acquaintance (and possibly, hopefully, a friend), when he’d caught a whiff of something undeniably flowery.

Confused, he’d glanced up, and found Simmons herself leaning in far closer to him than she usually was, peering at his physics homework curiously. He’d been caught off-guard at the sight, and before he could figure out what to do about the unusual occurrence, she’d noticed that he’d noticed.

Simmons had been visibly embarrassed by being caught, and had hastily moved back over to her side of the lab bench, and he’d tried, but Fitz just hadn’t been able to stop himself from gaping at her, still trying to catch up and figure out what the heck had just happened.

However, all he could really seem to think about was how nice what he thought had to be her shampoo had smelled, and what flower exactly it was supposed to smell like (not that he was great with types of flowers – he really only knew the basics, and what had been in his mum’s garden back home).

So, when she’d asked him about physics, he’d once more been caught utterly off-guard, and dropped his wide-eyed gaze from her, to his homework, and back. She was just sort of…staring back at him, as though waiting for…for something, and he knew he had to say something, but everything from his list had abruptly disappeared from his mind the moment that he’d noticed her so close to him.

Beginning to feel sweat breaking along his hairline, his hands starting to shake slightly with nerves, Fitz finally blurted out, “S’about dielectrics. Y’know, how they’re polarized when an electrical field is applied, and dielectric polarization occurs, sending positive and negative charges in different directions. Pretty simple stuff if you ask me, but…year’s just beginning, I suppose.”

It was not at all what he’d planned on saying, not in a million years, and he had to fight the overwhelming urge to smack himself, because she was still just staring at him. Though, now she looked slightly shocked, which was never a good thing, and he wondered miserably if he’d just made a grievous error and lost any chance at getting to know Jemma Simmons.

But then, to his complete amazement, Simmons’s whole face seemed to light up at once, her eyes shining with it, and Fitz felt as though his lungs had suddenly forgotten how to work properly. And then, even more amazingly, she scooted her stool closer until her shoulder was just brushing his, nodded at his homework, and said some of the most incredible words that he’d ever heard, “Can I see?”

#shayna writes #fsfic #fitzsimmons #can't have you (but oh how I want to)#academy au #chapter five #i can't wait to get to the pining friends part #oH MAN #and i just got some ideas for this fic recently #that i cannot wait to get to #!!!

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secretlystephaniebrown · 7 years ago

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Time’s Running Out: India

Sorry for the delay on this chapter, there were a lot of things happening these past few weeks! Hopefully things will normalize a bit from now on!

Anyways, on to part 2, where we pat canon condescendingly on the head. Thanks to everyone who took the time to leave a comment on the last chapter, you guys are wonderful and help motivate me to keep this story going!

Summary: The Reds and Blues; and their respective Freelancers, find themselves stranded on a strange planet named Chorus. Secrets, lies, and the unexpected seem to lie around every corner, and there might be even larger threats looming over the horizon.

They’re possibly even less ready for Chorus than Chorus is for them.

Pairings: Lots of friendships, Suckington, Yorkalina, Chex, eventual Yorkimbalina, possible others.

Start

Ao3

Tex didn’t like Armonia. But then again, she didn’t have the best track record with cities.

It was a well-formed grid of a city, complete with two walls. Turrets and watch towers were visible at regular intervals, showcasing that this was the city of a world at war. The capital city, no less. There were roads and various buildings, the city divided into various quarters. Once, according to the maps Tex had managed to download, the city would have had all sorts of things. Museums and tourist places, residential areas, and the like. There were parks and people lived in houses, not barracks.

Years at war had changed that. No one lived too far from the military bases, as Armonia no longer had a civilian population to speak of. Instead, they crowded into barracks not too far from headquarters, which had once been the capitol building of the city. The parks that Tex had seen had been turned into functional farms to try to grow crops to help supplement the ordinary rations.

Tex gazed upwards, at the open sky. The New Republic had lived in caves for years, avoiding the gaze of the Federal Army and protecting them from aerial attacks.

Armonia had no such defenses. They were vulnerable to the sky. They were a bright, obvious target. The New Republic, by moving here, had sacrificed mobility and the option of guerilla warfare. Tex knew there was an argument to be made for strength in numbers, but she hated the idea of being trapped here. There was a river right to the south, another major weak point that Felix and Locus would be sure to exploit. She’d have to talk to the generals about doubling the patrol there, maybe mining the river…

“Why are you on the roof?” Church’s voice said behind her. Tex didn’t turn around.

“I like roofs,” she said.

Church hesitated, as if he had something he wanted to say, but he decided against it. He sat next to her instead. Tex angled her head slightly to look at him, making sure that he hadn’t fallen apart since she’d seen him last. But he still looked fine, his new armor clean and remarkably intact for everything they’d gone through. And he felt whole as he ever did, another thing to be grateful for. They hadn’t touched him. She’d know if they had, she was sure of that.

“I’m glad you’re back,” he said.

Tex nodded. After a moment of hesitation, she placed her hand on top of his in a deliberate motion. She saw no need for physical affection beyond that, not here and now. Later, maybe, she’d check him over fully and let him do the same for her. But now, this was enough.

She’d take these quiet moments where she could find them, in the middle of this new war.

“I need to go,” she said after a moment. “I want to investigate the docking bay.”

He nodded. She was loathe to remove her hand, but she did, jumping off the roof without care that the fall would injure most people.

Tex was not most people. Her landing was heavy, sure, but there were no witnesses besides Church, and it was faster than the stairs. So what if there were a few small cracks in the concrete that hadn’t been there before? No one would notice.

The docking bay was a bit of a walk from the headquarters, but Tex took it invisibly. It would be faster if she had borrowed a mongoose, but she couldn’t be bothered to do so, not when the trip was so short. People were already running around, moving in supplies from the caches both armies had all over the planet. Tex wanted to inspect some of them. Felix and Locus had known where these caches were, and she wouldn’t put it below them to do something like tampering with the weapons or food that they were going to need to survive.

She was initially pleased to spot a group of mixed cadets; Feds and Rebels both unloading their shipments, before she realized that they were tolerating each other for the sake of gossip.

“I definitely heard that Felix skinned a guy alive,” one of the Feds said, leaning in close, as if afraid she might be overheard. “I know a chick who was stationed in the south, and she swears she found the knife near his body. Orange stripe on the blade, y’know. Like he’s bragging. He wants people to know it’s him” She shook her head. “Locus was creepy and all, but at least I never heard of him torturing people for information.”

One of the rebels scoffed. “That’s a load of bullshit,” he said. “I heard that Locus tortures plenty.”

“Yeah, c’mon,” another rebel added. “The guy’s a fucking machine. He doesn’t care about things like that. I heard he tried to kill Agent Washington even though he was supposed to be with your group.”

Tex felt her mouth tug down in a frown, despite herself. Gossip was normally just irritating, but this was getting under her skin for reasons she didn’t care to examine. Tex ducked behind a pillar to decloak, before stepping out behind them. Normally she wouldn’t have bothered to hide her appearance, but people were jumpy about invisibility because of Locus. Yet another thing for her to hold against him. “You should probably get moving,” she said, keeping her voice deceptively mild. “We’re on a schedule.”

One of the Feds let out a small scream. “Yes, sir, Agent Texas!”

Tex was glad to see that Grif and Simmons were spreading her reputation around.

Seeing Tucker in a hospital bed, surrounded by medical equipment and all-too-still was one of the most difficult sights of Wash’s life. Wash didn’t like to quantify things like this, didn’t like to make lists of the macabre and awful things he’d seen and even done. But there were bandages on Tucker’s stomach stained with blood.

Doctor Grey had assured him and Kai repeatedly that Tucker was fine, but none of that removed the image seared into his mind from Kai’s description of the way that Tucker had crumpled to the ground. He hadn’t been there. He’d been too far away to be of any help, his ribs cracked and bruised from the brutal beating Locus had given him. But Kai had seen it all, seen every second, perched as she was on top of the tower with Carolina and the others. And from the way that she held Tucker’s hand, Wash thought she might have had it worse.

Wash held Tucker’s left hand in his own, running his thumb over his knuckles, his eyes flickering between Tucker and Kai.

The Reds and Blues had taken him in. They had given him a home. But it was Kai and Tucker who had looked at him, broken and screwed up as he was, and wanted him anyways. They were everything Wash wanted, and everything he knew he didn’t deserve, no matter how many times that they told him otherwise. He was lucky, amazingly lucky, that they loved him.

He was never going to let anything like this happen to Tucker again. Bad enough they’d been separated for so long, bad enough having spent every day not knowing if he was alright. But this?

Wash didn’t know how many more times he could take a sight like this before he lost it.

“How’s he doing?” Tex asked, poking her head in. She looked tired. She’d been running ragged over these past few days, trying to hunt down Felix and Locus. Wash had tried to tell her that she was wasting her time, but then he’d looked at Tucker again, and hadn’t found the words.

“He was awake longer this time,” Kai said quietly.

“Good,” Tex said. There was a dark, dangerous note to her voice that was reminiscent of how she’d sounded under Omega’s influence. “Has Church come to visit?”

“No,” Wash said. He reached up and pressed his fingers against Tucker’s cheek. “I think he’s… struggling.”

Tex let out a sound that Wash might have described as tired. “He is.” She moved closer to Tucker’s bed, hovering. “We were lucky,” she said. “They didn’t know who he was. They would have…”

“I know,” Wash said. God, he knew all too well the kind of things that might happen to Alpha if people with few enough morals got their hands on him. “But they don’t know. He’s safe.”

“They’ll figure it out if they put together that Epsilon sounds just like him,” Tex said. She stood at the foot of Tucker’s bed and gripped the posts, bowing her head. She was practically shaking with exhaustion or rage or something else entirely that Wash couldn’t place. She hadn’t removed her armor, but Wash knew her eyes were firmly on Tucker’s face. “This was too close,” she said.

“Yes,” Wash agreed.

“I’ve gotten sloppy,” Tex muttered, more to herself than to Wash. Wash looked up, surprised.

“Tex,” he said. “This wasn’t on you.” There were a thousand people Wash would blame before he thought to blame Tex. A part of him, before he’d met Kai and Tucker, had blamed Tex for parts of Freelancer. He was not immune from the competitiveness, from the bitterness that had tainted the rest of the project, and the favoritism that the Director had shown Tex, and the knowledge that the Director had thought that everything he was doing, he was doing for her, grated.

But he knew better now. Tex had been a victim, as much as the rest of them had been.

And she had been the one to take her vengeance on the man who had ruined all their lives, at least, if Sarge had guessed correctly. And Wash had learned long ago not to doubt Sarge’s deductions.

“I should have killed Felix at the cliff,” she said. “Sloppy. Soft.” There was a huff, as if she was taking a deep breath, but that was impossible, because Tex didn’t breathe anymore than Church did. But somewhere in that sound, Wash thought he heard another word, hissed like a curse.

“Human.”

But before Wash could ask Tex any questions, Tucker began to stir again, eyelids fluttering as he started to drift awake. When Wash looked up from Tucker’s face again, Tex was gone, without as much as a shimmer in the air to indicate that she was nearby.

And then Wash was too busy to remember Tex’s musings, occupied as he was with trying to stop Tucker from ripping his stitches as he tried to get out of bed far before Dr. Grey wanted him to.

“Tucker, sit down,” he said. “You’re going to make it worse.”

“Fuck that! I’ve been in here forever, I want to go home!”

“Our quarters’ situation hasn’t been fixed yet,” Wash lied through his teeth. Doyle’s second in command, a man named Fredericks, had already helped finish the paperwork to get the three of them reassigned into shared quarters. Wash had expected that they’d have to share with someone else, or that there would be protests about Kai sharing with two men, but Fredericks had tapped his nose and said that General Doyle had said that everything was okay.

The General of the Army had basically given them the okay to fraternize. And Wash had thought he and Kai had done a good job at keeping things secret while they were with the Federal Army, but it seemed that not only that, but Doyle had known about Tucker too. Wash didn’t know really what he was supposed to do with that, but he intended to make the most of it.

After Kai had threatened to tie Tucker to the bed, and then promised to do that to him when they got their quarters situation straightened out, Tucker finally agreed to lie back down. From the wince he was trying to hide, Wash suspected that he had been hoping for a promise like that all along.

Rolling his eyes exasperatedly, Wash pressed a kiss to Tucker’s knuckles as Grey began to fuss with his IV and painkillers.

And he didn’t think about how close they had nearly come to losing Tucker.

Kimball’s new office was bigger than three of her bunks back at the New Republic base. It was a strange thing. She’d never had a desk before; the leaders before her had, but she’d never really seen the need. The metal desk of her predecessor had been smelted down for bullets before his plane had been shot down anyways.

Felix had shot him down, she thought, running her hands over the wooden grains of the desk. Killed him for trying to leave the planet. They were trapped here, truly trapped, like rats in a trap.

The familiar burning sensation rose up in her throat but she swallowed it down. There wasn’t time for anything like that. She had too much to do, she couldn’t afford to linger on the way Felix had laughed in the video, and how it compared to every other time she’d heard him laugh.

There was already paperwork accumulating on her desk; Martinez, one of the soldiers who Harris had rescued, had appointed herself Kimball’s assistant, and had been helping her put together the paperwork they’d need to try to calculate the exact state of the New Republic and Federal Armies’ joint supplies.

Slipping into the seat behind the desk, Kimball set to work, internally marveling at the fact she wasn’t crouched over a card table in her bunk. There simply wasn’t enough room at their old base for an office to only be an office, so her private quarters had doubled as hers. But Armonia had rooms to spare, even now with the New Republic squeezing in.

It was hard not to envy the Federal Army for all this space. Logistically, it made things difficult for them she knew. They didn’t have the population to man a city of this size, and defending it was difficult. The city was formed by three rings; the suburbs outside the city wall, the city itself inside the city wall, and then the military area, inside yet another wall. All of the suburbs and the city outside of the inner wall had been abandoned, and were trapped to try to form additional layers of defenses. It was in those defenses where Kimball and her people had been caught when they’d tried to attack Armonia.

There was a knock on the door, and Kimball straightened up.

A tall woman in teal armor walked in, and Kimball wanted to stare. She’d seen photographs of Agent Carolina, but none of them had really done her justice. There was an aura she carried with her, of sheer power and confidence. Her armor was well worn, like all other armor on this planet, but it was still a sight. It was augmented in ways that Kimball could notice, but she had no idea what they were supposed to do. It was clearly the kind of armor that Kimball couldn’t afford to equip her own soldiers with; the kind of armor that people like Felix and Locus wore.

Kimball hadn’t met Carolina, even amongst all the chaos of readjusting. There hadn’t been time. She’d been coordinating with Doyle, writing peace treaties, agreeing to terms of alliances. She’d stopped by the infirmary to check on Tucker, and met the frequently mentioned Washington and Kaikaina in the process, but other than those two, she’d only seen the captains out of the vaunted Reds and Blues. There was too much going on.

“General Kimball?” Agent Carolina said, saluting.

“Just Kimball, please. You must be Agent Carolina,” she said. “Tucker spoke of you often.”

There was the slightest of softening to Carolina at that. “I see.”

“How can I help you?” Kimball said, before realizing there wasn’t a spare chair in her office. Grimacing, she made a note to ask Martinez to try to find one—surely there was a storage room with furniture somewhere in this city.

“I just wanted to let you know that Epsilon has finished decrypting the manifest the Reds took from The Hand of Merope,” Carolina said.

“Yeah, cuz I’m fucking awesome like that,” said a voice that was vaguely familiar to Kimball as a bright blue light shimmered before forming the small armored figure.

Kimball frowned, before placing the voice. “You sound like Private Church,” she said. She still hadn’t met him, but he’d radioed her several times, helping out the Federal Army with their own logistics.

Epsilon paused, and then fidgeted, in an act of sheer, unmistakable humanity. “It’s… complicated,” he said. “But hey! I figured out the identity of this “Control” guy.”

Kimball swallowed. “I—we should get Doyle, he’ll want to be here.” She paused, looking at Epsilon. “Did you—do you know why he wants Chorus?”

“He’s reverse engineering the alien technology he finds on this planet,” Carolina said. “And then he’s selling them.”

It was like the world falling out from under her again. “All this… for money?”

People had died. Their world was savaged. Kimball had sent people to their deaths, had been willing to die, had believed every lie that had come out of Felix’s mouth, and it had all been for profit. Someone, out there, was profiting off the deaths of her people. Maybe they had started it, but there was more to it than that. Someone had paid Felix and Locus to make sure they never made it to the negotiation table. Someone made sure no one could go for help.

All so he could reap the rewards from a planet of the dead.

Carolina placed a hand on Kimball’s arm, warm and comforting. “We’ll make sure they pay for this,” she said, and there was a ferocity in her voice that made Kimball’s knees weak. She tried to remind herself that now was not the time, but it really didn’t help much. There was a presence to Carolina that was almost intoxicating, and Kimball was caught up in it.

There was another knock on the door, and Harris poked his head in. “Hey Kimball, do you have a sec—oh. Carolina.”

Kimball felt her heart leap at the sight of him. She still hadn’t managed to get a hold of him since finding out he was alive. It was odd, but she’d missed him a lot, even though she’d known he was alive and well.

(She refused to let herself think of her reaction to his death.)

“Private Harris,” she said, and she couldn’t quite keep the fondness out of her voice. Glancing at Carolina, she decided to risk some unprofessional behavior, and crossed the room, intending to hug him before she lost her nerve. She wasn’t sure if Harris would be comfortable with that, after all. She placed a hand on his shoulder instead, but she couldn’t help feeling that the gesture was insufficient. “It’s good to see you alive,” she said.

Harris suddenly seemed incredibly uncomfortable. “That’s—that’s what I’m here to talk to you about. Kind of. Not the alive thing. But there’s… there’s something I need to tell you.”

Kimball frowned. “Can it wait? Agent Carolina says Epsilon has cracked the encryption. I was going to call Doyle.”

“That is an incorrect statement,” an unfamiliar voice said, and Kimball leapt back as a green armored hologram, the exact size of Epsilon, appeared in front of her. “Epsilon never was fond of sharing credit.”

“Oh, c’mon Dee, don’t be like that,” Epsilon snapped.

“Dee?” Kimball said. “Another AI?”

“Uh, Kimball, this is Delta,” Harris said, rubbing the back of his neck. “He’s… he’s my partner.”

“It is good to meet you at last, General Kimball,” Delta said, and his voice was distorted, so clearly inhuman compared to Epsilon’s. There was intonation there, she realized, separating him from the voices of normal machines. But she’d never mistake his voice for that of a natural human one.

“But… I thought only Freelancers were partnered with AI,” Kimball said, numbly staring at the little green avatar. Delta was wearing outdated armor, but was looking at her curiously, as if gauging her reaction.

Harris scuffed his foot on the floor, but met her gaze. He was bracing for something, she realized. He was expecting something bad to happen. The thought chilled her to the core. “That’s the part I need to tell you.” He took a deep breath. “My name isn’t Nick Harris. I’m… I’m Agent New York of Project Freelancer.”

Kimball stared at him, and then looked at Delta. “Why didn’t you tell me?” She said, feeling honestly hurt. He hadn’t trusted her. All this time, she’d thought he was her friend, and he hadn’t trusted her.

After Felix, that cut deeper than it should have.

“I do!” Harris—York?—said quickly, holding up his hands. “But I thought Felix might sell me and Delta out, and—”

“What?” Kimball said, incredulously.

“Pff, some friends you have, York,” Epsilon said, and she turned slightly, remembering that he and Carolina were still in the room, watching all of this. “Can’t trust them not to sell you out.”

Kimball’s head swiveled to Epsilon. “Friends?”

Even through his helmet, Kimball could tell that York was currently trying to kill Epsilon with his gaze. “Felix and I served in the war together,” York said. He was standing straighter, all of a sudden, his hands clasped behind his back. Suddenly, she could see it. A Freelancer. She had been working with a Freelancer this whole time. She felt that when she had time, she’d be able to put things together more coherently. That he’d provided her with some parts of the picture that she’d been missing this whole time. “Alongside Locus.”

Kimball felt her own gaze harden. The taste on her tongue was bitter and fresh. She could recognize it as betrayal now. When had it become such a familiar feeling? “You knew?”

“No!” York said. “I—look, he was a bastard, but you were paying him, so I didn’t think—I didn’t know he’d—”

Kimball had heard plenty.

“Agent York, I think that’s enough for now,” she said, and she was amazed by the steadiness of her own voice. She didn’t feel steady. First Felix, then Harris… what was next? Tucker? Caboose? Was there anyone that she could trust? “You’re dismissed.”

There was a moment when he just looked at her. Then his gaze jumped to Carolina for a moment, almost as if he was expecting her to have something to add, before looking back to Kimball. He nodded once, then saluted her. But it wasn’t the normal, lazy one that usually could make her smile, even on the worst days, but a proper salute, stiff and formal.

And then he left, leaving Kimball alone with the other Freelancer and the other AI.

#Steph Writes #The BFF Verse #Agent Texas #Agent Washington #Vanessa Kimball #Suckington #Chex #Red vs Blue

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papermoonloveslucy · 7 years ago

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LUCY, THE CEMENT WORKER

S2;E10 ~ November 24, 1969

Directed by George Marshall ~ Written by George Balzin and Sam Perrin

Synopsis

While trying to earn some extra money, Lucy is asked by Harry to have a valuable ring engraved. When Lucy trips into a troth of cement she realizes the ring is missing!

Regular Cast

Lucille Ball (Lucy Carter), Gale Gordon (Harrison Otis Carter), Lucie Arnaz (Kim Carter), Desi Arnaz Jr. (Craig Carter)

Guest Cast

Mary Jane Croft (Mary Jane) makes her second series appearance as Mary Jane. Croft played Betty Ramsey during season six of “I Love Lucy. ” She also played Cynthia Harcourt in “Lucy is Envious” (ILL S3;E23) and Evelyn Bigsby in “Return Home from Europe” (ILL S5;E26). She played Audrey Simmons on “The Lucy Show” but when Lucy Carmichael moved to California, she played Mary Jane Lewis, the actor’s married name and the same one she uses on all 31 of her episodes of “Here’s Lucy. Her final acting credit was playing Midge Bowser on “Lucy Calls the President” (1977). She died in 1999 at the age of 83.

Paul Winchell (Little Old Jeweler / The Great Pierre Barmarche) previously played himself in “Lucy and Paul Winchell” (TLS S5;E4). He was born Paul Wilchinsky in 1922. Coming into the public eye in 1948, he became one of the most famous ventriloquists since Edgar Bergen. He hosted the enormously popular children’s television show “Winchell-Mahoney Time” (1964-68) in which he shared the spotlight with Jerry Mahoney, one of his most popular characters. Winchell is fondly remembered as the voice of Winnie the Pooh’s pal Tigger and (later) Papa Smurf. He played Doc Putnam in “Main Street U.S.A.” (TLS S5;17) and “Lucy Puts Main Street on the Map” (TLS S5;E18). This is the first of his two episodes of “Here’s Lucy.” Surprisingly, Winchell was also an inventor who is credited with the artificial heart, among other innovations. He died in 2005.

This is the first time an actor has played two distinct characters that weren't twins or doppelgangers in one “Lucy” episode. Winchell innovated an animation process called Aprilmation (named after his daughter) which Lucille Ball financed.

Harry Hickox (Police Officer) was best known for playing anvil salesman Charlie Cowell in the 1962 film The Music Man. He played a drill sergeant in “Lucy Gets Caught Up in the Draft” (TLS S5;E9). This is the first of his three episodes of “Here’s Lucy.”

Sid Gould (First Workman, right) made more than 45 appearances on “The Lucy Show,” all as background characters. This is one of his 40 episodes of “Here’s Lucy,” his first in season two. Gould (born Sydney Greenfader) was Lucille Ball’s cousin by marriage to Gary Morton.

William Tannen (Second Workman, left) appeared in four films with Lucille Ball between 1943 and 1946. This is his only series appearance. He was born in New York in 1911, just like Lucille Ball.

This is the first episode written by Sam Perrin, winner of two Emmy Awards for writing for Jack Benny. This is his first of five “Here's Lucy” scripts, three of which were written with Ralph Goodman.

The final draft of the script was submitted June 25, 1969.

The date this episode first aired (November 24, 1969) Lucille Ball made her third appearance on “The Carol Burnett Show” on CBS at 10pm. In return, Burnett will guest star on the final episode of season two of “Here's Lucy.”

Kim says she was born in the kitchen. They joke that the refrigerator is her godmother! In real life, Lucie Arnaz was born in a hospital as Lucille Ball delivered her by Cesarean.

In the office Lucy and Harry are looking for the Morton contract. Morton is Lucy's married name, having wed comedian Gary Morton in 1961. Harry has stapled the contract to his necktie! With a snip of her scissors, Lucy handily converts the necktie to a bow tie.

Harry says that as a young man he was often mistaken for one of the Barrymores. Lucy reminds him that one of them was Ethel! The Barrymore acting family began with the marriage of Maurice Barrymore (1849–1905) to Georgiana Drew (1856-1893). They had three children: Lionel, Ethel, and John – all of whom also were actors. Harry is probably referring to John Barrymore (1882-1942, inset photo) who was known for his classic profile. The dynasty is today represented by Drew Barrymore (born 1975) who carries on both family names.

Easter Egg: In Pierre's studio, there is a handbill on the bulletin board for Cherokee Jim's Rodeo and Wild West Show, which is a direct reference from the 1945 film Incendiary Blonde starring Betty Hutton as Texas Guinan. The film was directed by George Marshall for Paramount, the same director and studio producing this episode of “Here's Lucy” 25 years later!

When Lucy knocks over a vase on Harry's desk, he gets wet, of course, one of the running gags on “Here's Lucy.” Harry once again calls her 'Calamity Jane', something he previously did in “The Great Airport Chase” (S1;E18). Martha Jane Canary (1852-1903), better known as Calamity Jane, was an American frontierswoman and professional scout known for her claims of being an acquaintance of Wild Bill Hickok and fighting against Indians. What's more, according to “Lucy and Harry's Tonsils” (S2;E5), Harry is allergic to roses!

When Harry is frustrated by Lucy he says “I wonder if I could send her to the moon?” Just prior to this episode being shot, the US landed Buzz Aldrin and Neil Armstrong on the moon, the culmination of many years of work by NASA. The line also is reminiscent of Ralph Kramden (Jackie Gleason) threatening his wife Alice: “Bang! Zoom! Straight to the moon, Alice!” on TV's “The Honeymooners.” Lucille Ball (as Mame Dennis) played the Lady in the Moon in Mame (1974).

Role reversal! When the kids are asking Lucy for some extra money, the dialogue is very similar to when Lucy Ricardo used to ask Ricky for money – and his inevitable answer would be “no”! Later on, the roles are reversed again when Lucy asks Harry for a raise – and his inevitable answer is also “no”!

The second act of the episode is similar to "Building a Bar-B-Q" (ILL S6;E24) where Lucy Ricardo thinks she has lost her wedding ring in the wet cement used to build the backyard barbecue grill.

The knife throwing routine is borrowed directly from “Lucy Tells the Truth” (ILL S3;E6). In that episode the knife thrower was an Italian named Professor Falconi (Mario Siletti) instead of a Frenchman named the Great Pierre.

Lucy disguises herself as a male construction worker to escape the eye of the cop on the beat. Lucille Ball went in male drag in “Ricky Has Labor Pains” (ILL S2;E14), “Lucy and the Little League” (TLS S1;E28), and “Lucy the Coin Collector” (TLS S3;E13).

The episode revolves around a slap of cement just like “Lucy Visits Grauman's” (ILL S5;E1). In that episode, Lucy Ricardo was also eyeballed by a policemen on the beat and threatened with a fine for her vandalism.

In “Lucy and John Wayne” (ILL S5;E2) Little Ricky got his hands in wet cement just like Lucy Carter does here. The same thing happened to Mr. Mooney (Gale Gordon) in “Lucy Goes to a Hollywood Premiere” (TLS S4;E20).

Mary Jane wears the exact same dress she wore on her first appearance on the series in “A Date for Lucy” (S1;E19).

Family Faux Pas! Harry has a female cousin in New York getting married. Harry wants a family ring engraved with 'WAML from UH' ('With all my love from Uncle Harry'). Why would a cousin call him Uncle?

Overheard? Lucy tells the Jeweler that if she doesn't find the ring she'll be taking a “one-way trip to the moon” quoting Harry's threat at the end of the previous scene. This despite the fact that Lucy was not in the room when he said it. She had gone off to wash her hands (an integral plot point for the outcome of the episode)!

Butter Fingers! When applying the grease mustache Lucille Ball tries to pocket her compact mirror but it slips to the ground. The hose to the jack hammer then gets momentarily snagged on the yellow 'caution' saw horses.

“Lucy, the Cement Worker” rates 4 Paper Hearts out of 5

Although there is a lot going on in this episode, all the callbacks make it a must for Lucy lovers!

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cloverbasket4-blog · 5 years ago

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Bulls Enjoy Exhilarating Victory Over Playoff-Bound 76ers

It was prime time Wednesday for the Bulls in the United Center, a rare national TV game for one of the league’s teams assigned the fewest national exposures. Move along, nothing to see here, the NBA and the national networks appeared to be saying about the rebuilding Bulls. But perhaps those Bulls are starting to get ready for prime time.

“We’re going to switch that (TV time) around,” predicted Zach LaVine.

The Bulls high flying leading scorer continued to come into focus with 39 points, including the game winning driving score with 1.6 seconds left for a 108-107 victory over the Philadelphia 76ers. It was the Bulls sixth win in the last nine games that includes victories over hard charging Finals contenders Philadelphia and Boston.

Robin Lopez continued his scoring mastery with 19 points and nine rebounds and Otto Porter Jr. added 15 points and a team best matching nine rebounds. Former Bull Jimmy Butler led the 76ers with 22 points, including two free throws with 4.8 seconds left that appeared like it would save the 76ers from losing after leading by 10 points in the fourth quarter. But LaVine took a dribble handoff from Lopez, the 76ers blew the defensive switch and LaVine flew down the lane for the deciding layup, pumping his fist in exhilaration as he also was fouled. Though he missed the free throw. But in Butler’s two appearances in the United Center since his trade, LaVine has outplayed Butler down the stretch leading to a pair of Bulls victories.

Zach LaVine's Game Winning Layup

“We can beat any of these teams,” insisted LaVine. “We’ve always played with them. We just have to show we can win. We’re in a good little rhythm now. When you are rebuilding you have to take your bumps and understand you have to build your way up. We’re a young, exciting team. We have elite firepower. We have some of the best players in the NBA on this team, I feel like. And we’re going to change it around really fast.”

Delusional, you might say as the Bulls are 19-47. Philadelphia is 41-24.

But since the acquisition of Porter it’s been a sustained stretch of competitive basketball highlighted by scoring and shooting from LaVine, Porter and Lauri Markkanen, an offensive rebirth from Lopez in what has become an effective pick and roll with LaVine, and apparently the beginning of a belief.

“The chemistry is clicking,” said Porter. “We are getting better every game. Each game we are taking something away to prepare us for the future, no matter what it is: Five minutes to go down 10, how we are going to respond at home? Protect home court, cut turnovers the last four minutes, simple things like that. It shows the growth, what we are trying to accomplish here leading to next year. We are trying to build on the right habits, build that winning mentality here, be a very detailed, defensive minded team.

“I felt that this sent a message to the league that we are getting ready for the future.”

Otto porter

It also was a wildly entertaining game that passed for, at least this season, as close as the Bulls will get to playoff intensity with a team battling to enhance its position. Currently, the 76ers are fourth in the Eastern Conference and facing a dreaded first round playoff matchup with the Boston Celtics.

Bulls coach Jim Boylen said prior to the game the Bulls are trying to use these kinds of matchups on ESPN, which spent most of the pregame interviewing 76ers, to simulate a playoff situation.

“I showed them the teams that play on national TV,” said Boylen. “This is our third game on national TV. I think that’s the minimum that the league gives you with the TV agreement. That should bother our guys. There’s a reason for that. So what are you going to do about it?”

But there was oh-so-much-more in a game with 19 lead changes and 20 ties and some very unusual moments. Especially the last moments when the 76ers inbounded with five tenths of a second left for the potential winner. And then about 15 minutes later did so again.

Without Porter, by the way, who already was taking the routine league-mandated, post-game drug test. Hey, could Otto come out and play? You know, finish the game.

“Actually I was already in mid stride, so I couldn’t stop,” Porter sort of explained.

Everyone understood.

Game within the game 1: The clock isn’t supposed to start until someone on the floor touches the ball. But as the 76ers attempted a lob play toward the basket for the potential winner, the game ending buzzer went off before the ball on a high arc reached anyone. “When I touched it the buzzer already went off,” LaVine acknowledged. But everyone was leaving. So he left, too. Apparently, 76ers players felt Lopez guarding the inbound touched the ball, which would have ended the game. So they walked off the court, most of the fans left and local TV and ESPN began post game interviews on the floor. But wait, Lopez didn’t touch the ball. The officials reviewed film, confirmed the mistake and then began calling the teams back on the floor.

“Our (scorers’) table started the clock and I kind of like that,” laughed Boylen. “Our table (home teams supply the officials scorers, statisticians and time clock operators) started the clock early. That’s like Utah in the old days. They did that all the time and got away with that. I’m taking our clock guys to dinner; that’s how it’s supposed to be.”

Well, not actually.

“Zach came sprinting into the locker room saying we need five guys out there,” said Ryan Arcidiacono.

“People were looking for me; couldn’t find me, but by that time it was too late,” explained Porter. "Just turned right back around and finished the process.”

“Toughest part was probably losing twice,” said the 76ers Tobias Harris. “Because we lost first and then we went back out there to do it again.”

Game within the game 2: That would be the talented 76ers, who were without star center Joel Embiid. Hey, the Bulls were without Chandler Hutchison. With the acquisitions of Butler and Harris to go along with Embiid and Ben Simmons, the latter who had 18 points, 11 rebounds and seven assists, the 76ers despite their standings appear to have the talent to win the Eastern Conference. But there appear to be elements of a troubled team. It may be the team to watch post season.

With the delay to return to the court — the big surprise was how little the 76ers coaches complained about what seemed an obvious violation of the rules to end the game prematurely — Butler was overheard in the hallway outside the locker room yelling that if they went back out they needed to draw up a better expletive play than before. Previously late in the game, as coach Brett Brown was drawing up a play and showing Butler, Simmons pushed the clipboard away and walked onto the court. It could all be the intensity of the game and a motivated team anxious to do great things, the spirit of the 76ers. Or not.

Game within the game 3: That would be the latest installment of “Arch is Bonkers.”

That was late in the third quarter with the Bulls trailing 77-74 when the backup point guard who leads the team in charges and bruises made the hustle, are-you-kidding-me play of the game. Mike Scott’s shot rolled off the rim and was tipped out toward Arcidiacono on the left wing by James Ennis. Porter went for the ball and collided with Simmons, and both seemed to deflect the ball. Arcidiacono in front of the Bulls bench went into a full parallel dive into the stands too get the ball. But with the wherewithal to tip the ball forward to Porter as Arcidiacono propelled himself into the fans. Porter got the ball, took two dribbles into the front court and lobbed to LaVine running ahead for a dunk.

Video Proof That Arch is Bonkers

Boylen jumped out on the court to praise Arcidiacono with a hard slap. “Unbelievable play,” said Boylen. “Arci’s a tough nut. That’s what we have to do, that’s what the city wants to see, and that’s what winning basketball is. Big, big play for us.”

Though just fundamental for Arcidiacono, who actually was matched up for the first time against one of his idols, T.J. McConnell, the 76ers’ veteran Arcidiacono. Noe everyone wants to be like Mike.

“I just search out plays like that,” said Arcidiacono. “They kind of find me as well; any winning play I can make for our team. I felt that was a good momentum swing in our direction.”

But how does that kind of thing occur?

“It wasn’t graceful,” Arcidiacono agreed. “I thought I could get it and thought worse case scenario if my foot was on the line or I didn’t save it it, it would be their ball side out of bounds. So it was just about sacrificing the body, making a play and I got my hand on the ball. Actually I had a good grip on the ball and was able to get a good pass up to Otto and he made a great pass to Zach for a spectacular dunk. You feel the energy in the stands. I know our team and coaches were pumped, I was pumped.”

It was another tough game for Kris Dunn with four points on two of six shooting, and Markkanen after his run of 20/10 games was somewhat passive for the second consecutive game with 11 points and just nine shots. But it wasn’t so much the Bulls not searching for him as Markkanen being run off plays by the physical 76ers. Though Markkanen is highly skilled, he has difficulty creating his own shot, vital for an elite player, especially against tougher play.

“They were physical with him,” Boylen said. “They were locked into him in transition, they were picking him up high. Teams have been doing that. When you start playing well in the league and start kicking butt, people take notice, they adjust. They’re bringing a lot of heat to Lauri right now.”

For the Bulls, this time they didn’t get burned. It was a slow start, trailing 12-4 as one of three teams with a poorer home record than road record (now 8-25 at home). The Bulls had a late 9-0 stretch in the first behind Lopez’ 13 first quarter points to tie the game at 30 after one quarter. Markkanen started on Simmons and got quick foul trouble. It was tied at 57 at halftime, and then LaVine took charge for the Bulls as he would score 26 points in the second half.

“I got it going,” said LaVine, who was nine of 13 on free throws as Boylen has pushed him to attack the basket. “It’s some of my job to get points on the board and try be that guy to take over the game. I’ve done that before and will continue to try to do that.”

Highlights from Zach's Big Night

Porter and Lopez were excelling on the boards with tough rebounds snatched away from aggressive 76ers players, Porter especially with an impressive offensive rebound between a pair of 76ers and with the same hand passing out to LaVine for a score. Though a late 76ers run gave them an 86-82 lead after three quarters. Philadelphia then seemed about to be cheese steaks for all with a 98-88 lead midway through the fourth quarter. It looked like the Bulls wrapped up like a pretzel for another late defeat like against Indiana Tuesday.

But it then started with Porter with a hard drive and score. The scoring baton then went to LaVine for a Cali-step drive for a score, a quick pullup three against tight defense and a drive on a pass from Lopez to make it 98-98 with 3:41 left. Game on.

Porter matched Simmons layup and free throw with a three. But the 76ers went ahead 105-101 with 1:52 left when Butler began operating. The former Bull has been quieter and less obvious with the 76ers, seemingly satisfied to move the ball until being the finisher late in games. But LaVine scoring his 13 points in the last 5:30 of the game drove into the lane for a short jumper and tied it with another over a bruising Lopez screen with 46.6 seconds left.

Harris missed and Lopez was fouled, making one of two for a 106-105 Bulls lead with 17.1 seconds left. Butler held the ball until about seven seconds left, isolated and then drove past LaVine. The help was late and Butler was fouled, making both for the 76ers lead.

Butler then was defending LaVine making the inbounds to Lopez. But when LaVine got the ball back and went over the Lopez screen, Butler went with Lopez as did Scott defending Lopez. Ooops. A Bulls red sea of a driving lane suddenly opened up and LaVine led his people through Simmons and a retreating Scott for the layup.

Simmons then attempted that inbounds lob to Butler that LaVine knocked away. After a long delay and before by now a mostly empty arena, Butler fumbled the inbounds redux to finally end the game.

The Bulls passed a big test; apparently Porter as well.

Source: https://www.nba.com/bulls/gameday/bulls-enjoy-exhilarating-victory-over-playoff-bound-76ers

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celldeal57-blog · 5 years ago

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How Michael Rubin, Meek Mill’s Billionaire Bestie, Got Woke

City

The Lafayette Hill native’s path from e-commerce titan to Sixers co-owner to social justice crusader.

Photograph by Chris Crisman

“Did you see what’s on his phone? That’s the most pathetic thing I’ve ever seen.”

Michael Rubin is wrestling with Joel Embiid in a losing attempt to steal the Sixers center’s iPhone and embarrass him about a particular snapshot Embiid is using as his home-screen pic. Or, to take a broader view, a billionaire businessman and a millionaire NBA All-Star are goofing around like 13-year-olds. We’re in a five-seat AW139 Agusta helicopter that picked us up at Rubin’s office in Conshohocken for a trip to Foxborough, Massachusetts, where Rubin, two business associates and Embiid will be guests of Patriots owner Robert Kraft for a preseason matchup with the Eagles. Embiid loves football, but he was mostly just up for a night out with Kraft, arguably the most powerful man in the NFL, and Rubin, who’s both his boss and his buddy. Embiid is rocking gray sweatpants, a white hoodie and suede Saint Laurent kicks; combined, the cost of the outfit probably exceeds my monthly rent. By contrast, Rubin wears Nikes, a charcoal tee, and jeans that are surely designer but could pass for the dad variety.

At 46, Rubin may not look the part, but he’s in peak baller mode — taking his heli to a game, then skipping over to the Hamptons for a weekend with Kraft and their girlfriends. Rubin is also a personal friend of Jeffrey Lurie, so it’s fortunate that tonight’s contest is meaningless, with no real rooting interests. The Super Bowl was a different story. If Rubin hadn’t needed to go there for business — his sports merchandise company, Fanatics, throws one of the biggest parties in a week that’s full of A-list blowouts — he would have avoided it.

“It was complicated,” he says. “Look, I love Jeffrey. Howie Roseman is my buddy. I’m friends with a bunch of guys who play on the team. But you can’t have one of your closest friends and then abandon them. It would be wrong.” The friend he’s referring to is 77-year-old Kraft.

“I generally don’t have a lot of fandom outside of the Sixers,” Rubin explains. “Fanatics takes the fandom out of you, it really does. You’re actually rooting for whoever makes you the most money.”

Such is the stuff of sports-talk-radio outrage: One of the Sixers owners cheers for the Pats? Boycott that crumb bum! But Rubin is a businessman to his core, hardwired for commerce in a way that’s different even from nearly anyone else who’s achieved this level of success. He’s been hustling since he left for sleepaway camp, a college dropout who’d been sued and gone virtually bankrupt before he could even vote. He’s also a true visionary — Rubin saw the potential for online retail while the rest of the world was still living the brick-and-mortar life and built GSI Commerce, a multibillion-dollar business. Now, his second 10-figure empire, Kynetic, consists of three e-businesses, including the crown jewel, Fanatics, which designs, manufactures and sells merch for all four major sports leagues and others to the tune of $2.3 billion in projected revenue this year. “It’s amazing,” Kraft says. “He’s basically built a mini-Amazon in sports merchandising. He used his vision and drive to develop a niche. He saw it before everyone else.” Did you buy a Ben Simmons tee for the Sixers’ playoff run? Do you own a Rhys Hoskins or Shayne Gostisbehere jersey? Eagles Super Bowl LII championship hoodie or jersey, underdogs tee, or autographed “Philly Special” framed photo? Fanatics made them and sold them to you.

“He’s an amazingly intense person and an amazingly competitive person,” says Josh Kopelman, founder of First Round Capital and a longtime friend of Rubin. “He’s probably one of the best strategic people I know in terms of playing chess when everyone else is playing checkers.”

Until recently, Rubin — with a net worth hovering around $3 billion — was among the most low-key Philadelphians on the Forbes 400 (number 278 on the 2017 list, 14 spots behind Phillies principal owner John Middleton and 110 ahead of Lurie). His role as the third largest shareholder in the Sixers raised his profile, but unless you’ve seen him courtside with Kevin Hart or Lil Uzi Vert, you probably couldn’t pick him out of a lineup or a paparazzi photo on TMZ Sports (though you may have read the news this summer that he purchased one of the most expensive penthouses ever sold in Lower Manhattan, for $43.5 million).

Rubin with Kevin Hart, Robert Kraft and Meek Mill just after Mill’s release from prison. Photograph courtesy of Michael Rubin

But Rubin’s public persona — and his life — has changed, thanks to his friend Robert Rihmeek Williams, a.k.a. North Philly rapper Meek Mill. When Mill was sent to prison last November, Rubin mobilized — launching the Free Meek campaign with Jay-Z and taking aim at not only the judge handling Mill’s case, but the entire criminal justice system. The luxe chopper we’re riding in is the same one that famously picked up Mill from jail in Chester and flew him straight to a Sixers playoff game in April.

Tonight, the activist/entrepreneur/ billionaire is focused on the fun stuff, like breaking Embiid’s stones constantly. Despite the nonstop clowning around, business is never far from Rubin’s mind, and neither is the cause he’s championing. His rise from business prodigy to sports mogul and Sixers owner is a story in itself. But then Meek Mill went to jail, Michael Rubin got woke — and a new chapter in his life began.

•

A few weeks earlier, Rubin greets me in his corner office at the Kynetic headquarters in Conshohocken for our first interview. He’s dressed summer-Friday-afternoon ultra-casual, in white cutoff denim shorts, a gray t-shirt and leather sandals, and flanked by his partner and his corporate PR chief. The “office” next to his is a playroom for his 12-year-old daughter, Kylie — it’s a concept he borrowed after talking to another CEO who wanted to find a way to stay close to his kids even when he was working, which for Rubin is seemingly always. While he flies to his Manhattan office weekly, his empire was built within seven miles of where he’s sitting, and staying close to his family is a priority. He lives minutes from his ex-wife and spends a few nights each week with his daughter, who inspired his company’s name; his mother visits his Bryn Mawr manse for dinner on Sundays. Rubin has a quick answer for how a kid from Lafayette Hill ended up becoming a titan of e-commerce: “I think you’re either born with the entrepreneurial bug or you’re not. I was a shitty athlete. I was a bad student. I wasn’t really good at anything other than business. Ever since I was old enough to make money, I wanted to do that.”

You’ve probably read stories about entrepreneurs who opened lemonade stands and whose proud parents instantly knew they were destined for big things. That’s fairly normal — a word no one would use to describe Rubin. Sure, he got into snow shoveling at age 10, but he didn’t break a sweat; instead, he rounded up five kids and paid them to do all the manual labor. Around the same time, his mother, Paulette, a psychiatrist, was cooking dinner one night when she overheard him on the phone with a friend of one of his two older sisters, asking about the teen’s baseball card collection. When her husband, Ken, came home, she asked, “Do you know how Michael knows what ‘consignment’ is?” Later, she gently informed her child that his plan to sell the cards at his sleepaway camp was flawed, since the other campers wouldn’t have any money. “I’m not selling to the kids,” he said, as if his intentions should have been obvious. “I’m selling to the dads on visiting day.” Sure enough, there was a line of fathers outside his bunk with cash in hand.

The rest of Rubin’s origin story is about as unbelievable as anything you’d see in a Marvel movie, if the superhero was a nice Jewish boy from Montco with a savant-like way of seeing the world. At age 12, he opened a ski repair shop in the basement of his parents’ house; two years later, his father, a veterinarian, co-signed a lease so Rubin could open his own store in a Conshohocken strip mall with $10,000 he’d made. Action News cameras captured a marketing stunt one summer as Rubin arranged to build a 142-foot ski slope in the parking lot with 45,000 pounds of ice. As a junior at Plymouth Whitemarsh High, the budding businessman would leave classes early through a co-op program to work at his shop.

It looked like Rubin’s career was over before it really began when he found himself in the red for $200,000 at age 16. He was being sued by a slew of creditors, who were stunned to learn that the hot shot they’d only spoken with by phone was a minor. Rubin hired a lawyer to settle his debts, got a loan from his parents, and eventually owned five ski shops with annual sales totaling $2.5 million. When his folks refused to lend him more money, he borrowed 17 grand from a neighbor for a new venture — buying closeout sporting-goods merchandise and selling it for a markup. Rubin’s parents made him agree to give college a shot. He lasted less than a year at Villanova. “For the first semester,” he says, “I was always in the parking lot with this giant phone — they were like a fucking brick at this point — and I’d be late to class because I’m buying something in Asia and selling it in England, wheeling and dealing like crazy.”

KPR Sports, the new business he named for his parents, led to the creation of an outdoor shoe company and a controlling interest in Ryka, a women’s sneaker manufacturer. At 23, the “Sneaker Stud,” as People crowned him, was generating $50 million in sales and preparing to build the next Nike or Reebok. But in 1998, back when Amazon only sold books, a Wall Street analyst asked Rubin what he was doing about the World Wide Web. “My first answer was, ‘Fuck this internet thing. Don’t waste my time. It’s all these young kids who don’t make any money. They all lose money.’”

The analyst persisted, and Rubin began polling the CEOs of all the sporting-goods giants he sold to about their plans for e-commerce. “They didn’t know how to do it themselves,” Rubin says. “If I could bring them to scale and do that myself … I saw the business opportunity.” Was Rubin at all afraid to tackle a business model with so many unknowns, including his own inexperience? “That’s what I think makes an entrepreneur,” he says. “I was probably too fearless then.”

To build Global Sports Interactive, Rubin needed funding, and a near-disastrous meeting in New York would change the course of his life. Masayoshi Son — CEO of SoftBank, a Japanese firm heavily invested in Yahoo and E*Trade — agreed to meet with Rubin and his small team, including Mike Conn, the analyst who pestered Rubin about the internet and then joined him at GSI. Rubin pitched uninterrupted for 30 minutes. Masa, as he’s known, responded by saying, “You’re the next Jeff Bezos and Michael Dell. I’m buying 30 percent of your company.” But rather than gladly taking any deal offered, Rubin began to grill Masa on SoftBank. “I was shaking,” Conn remembers. “I mean, our payroll was bouncing and Michael starts pushing back. I did the math, and this was an $80 million deal. There are many times in life with Michael when I wish I had a pause button — just freeze and say, ‘Wait a second.’”

Masa isn’t easily rattled, and eventually SoftBank closed the deal. Rubin’s ex-wife, Meegan, remembers another moment in the negotiation process, when she sat in awe during a dinner near Piccadilly Circus in London as her then-boyfriend and Masa — with input from another guest, Rupert Murdoch — worked out the details of their arrangement.

At the same time, Josh Kopelman created the e-marketplace Half.com in Conshohocken and found a kindred spirit in Rubin — two Philly founders during the late-’90s/early-aughts dot-com boom and the bust that followed. The two would meet for lunch at Rubin’s King of Prussia office or Stella Blu in West Conshy and talk shop about their increasingly fickle industry. One day in 2001, as GSI’s stock bottomed out at $3 a share from $33 two years before, Rubin spent a good portion of the afternoon curled up under his desk, contemplating his company’s collapse. “The mortality rate was high,” Kopelman says of the many ventures that folded. “It was a game of musical chairs. Michael and I were both lucky enough to have caught a chair before the music stopped.” (GSI’s stock rebounded within a few months.)

What set Rubin apart and set GSI on a course for unthinkable success is his long view, says Kopelman, who was briefly on GSI’s board: “What I see in Michael is an intense tolerance for delayed gratification. When you’re an entrepreneur, you’re sacrificing pain and suffering today for success later.” A key aspect of Rubin’s strategy was signing long-term deals, like an 18-year agreement with Sports Authority, at a time when anything longer than 10 years was unheard-of.

GSI grew rapidly, expanding across retail sectors by partnering with Ralph Lauren, Toys “R” Us, GNC and others. Rubin attracted a workforce of young, tech-savvy employees who were willing to work hard for relatively little compensation to be part of something big. Before he launched the Philly sports-gossip site Crossing Broad, Kyle Scott worked at GSI for two years, in the late 2000s. When the Phillies won the World Series in 2008, Scott was on wi-fi at a sports bar, updating the team’s and MLB’s websites; he estimates GSI processed a few million dollars in Phils-related revenue in 24 hours.

After narrowly surviving some heady days, including the internet crash and the Great Recession, Rubin made his next earth-shaking move in 2011, when he sold GSI Commerce, as it was then named, to eBay for $2.4 billion. Rubin and Conn celebrated with burgers and beer at Champps at the King of Prussia mall on a Friday. Conn thought maybe they should take a year off to contemplate the future; Rubin was back to work on Monday and already had a plan. eBay wanted Rubin’s B2B platform to compete with Amazon, but it didn’t need his consumer businesses. So Rubin bought three of them back — the designer fashion site Rue La La, the members-only retail site ShopRunner, and Fanatics, the licensed-sports-apparel behemoth. When asked why he didn’t just retire, Rubin answered in typical Rubinesque fashion: “I will work at the same incredibly hard pace until I die. I love it. I’m having more fun than I’ve ever had.”

Like his net worth, Rubin’s enthusiasm for empire-building keeps growing. Last year, he purchased the sports merch giant Majestic, and also flew to Japan to pitch his old friends at SoftBank — which now runs the world’s largest tech fund — for a new round of funding, walking away with $1 billion. With his eyes on expansion into European soccer and sports across Asia, Rubin predicts annual earnings of $10 billion in the next decade for Fanatics alone. He says his “v-commerce” model of vertical retail — designing, manufacturing, and selling merchandise directly to consumers — is what sets Fanatics apart and has helped him secure deals with the major sports leagues that average a whopping 15 years. “I feel like we’re just getting started,” he tells me. “Even though this has become a decent-sized business, we’re still in the first quarter of the football game.”

Sports are now threaded so tightly through all aspects of Rubin’s life that it’s impossible to untangle work from play, which is exactly how he likes it. His friendship with Kraft, his trips to All-Star games with his daughter or to the Super Bowl with his mom, partying with Embiid and Ben Simmons across the globe — he’s never off the clock, and business is never far away from the fun.

•

In the heli somewhere over North Jersey, I ask Rubin and Embiid what they have in common.

“I’m a great basketball player,” Rubin says, getting a laugh out of the fit professional athlete seated beside him. He has a slight middle-age paunch that contrasts with his boyish face. “Short, Jewish, out of shape — we have a lot in common. When did we start hanging out?”

“The first summer when I was hurt, not much,” Embiid says. “But the end of the season … I think it was in New York. We went out, and then we started hanging out.”

Rubin’s larger-than-life résumé and singular personality have a cinematic quality. Sportscaster Howard Eskin compares him to Russell Crowe’s character in A Beautiful Mind. On a personal level, Meegan Rubin jokes that her ex is Tom Hanks in Big — a child trapped in an adult’s body: “Michael definitely has a young vibe.”

His youthful exuberance is on display as Rubin and Embiid recall their trip to the Atlantis resort in the Bahamas to celebrate the birthday of a model friend, Jocelyn Chew, whose Instagram account was once featured by GQ. Rubin posted photos of a petrified Embiid at the top of a gnarly 60-foot near-vertical water slide and a video of his reluctant investigation of a lazy river as inner tubes filled with vacationers leisurely passed by.

“When you see someone who’s seven-foot-two and can’t swim in a two-foot pool,” Rubin says, “it’s kind of hard not to make fun of them. That was honestly one of the funniest weekends.”

“We had so much fun,” says Embiid. “I would do everything else except for the slide. The slide was awful.”

“The scary thing was, Joel uses his hands on the side of the slide, holding on. He’s going to lose a hand or a finger. You’ll be the only person to get hurt in the history of the NBA on a water slide.”

Rubin, Embiid and friends in Miami Beach for the Sixer’s 24th birthday. Photograph courtesy of Seth Browarnik/WorldRedEye

Rubin is a social media newbie, but with some editing advice from his daughter, he’s begun to document his personal life (or at least the “G-rated version,” as he says). Whatever he omits, Page Six or TMZ is likely to cover: Embiid’s 24th birthday in Miami Beach, attended by models of the Instagram and Victoria’s Secret variety, or Rubin waving a giant Sixers flag at his 46th birthday in Las Vegas with Simmons, Mill and Kraft. (Rubin is well known for having frequented Atlantic City and Vegas in his youth. These days, he plays private high-stakes blackjack.)

Rubin’s favorite subject for ball-busting at the moment is Embiid’s girlfriend, a successful model — a silly video and a romantic photo with her are constant sources of blackmail threats. Rubin prods Embiid to explain why he owes so much to their friend Chew.

“She’s the reason why I’m in love,” Embiid says with a huge grin, as Rubin and the business associates whoop it up.

“He took her to Cameroon!” Rubin yells, referring to a trip Embiid made with his girlfriend where she met his parents.

Embiid looks at me and deadpans, “He’s jealous.”

When talk turns to Rubin’s current flame, new media coordinator for Major League Baseball and model Camille Fishel, Rubin clams up. Embiid rolls video to capture Rubin’s response as the tables turn, and another wrestling match ensues. Rubin retaliates by raising the stakes for his threats.

“Twenty percent reduction in your pay,” he says. “We’re making free-agency room.”

It’s hard to imagine Rubin’s fellow Sixers co-owners, Josh Harris and David Blitzer, cracking wise about contract restructuring or popping bottles with their players. It’s also easy to jump to conclusions about Rubin’s joie de vivre. (Phone call for Mr. Rubin, midlife crisis on line one!) But Rubin had all the trappings of wealth decades ago; he had a Porsche before he had a driver’s license, and when he was 27, his garage housed a Range Rover, a Mercedes convertible and a Ferrari. He also had his girlfriend, Meegan, to keep him tethered to reality — or at least attempt to do so. In an interview with CNN back then, Rubin said they’d spend “a decent amount of quality time together … at least a couple hours during the weekend.” In 2009, then married with a three-year-old daughter, Rubin filmed an episode of Undercover Boss, epic-failing while trying to stack packages in a GSI warehouse and bonding with blue-collar employees. The most insightful scene was a brief glimpse into his private life — Meegan playing with Kylie in the background while Rubin scrolled on his phone. “He is definitely a workaholic,” Meegan said on camera. “Texting at three o’clock in the morning to Europe. He treats GSI as if it’s his baby.” Meegan tells me her exasperation wasn’t staged for television, and Rubin admits he isn’t a “zero to three” father: “Truth be told, I was not a baby guy. I connected with my daughter when she turned two and a half or three. If I had more kids, I wouldn’t be changing diapers. I could sit here and say I’m someone else, but I’m not.”

The couple separated in 2011, and Rubin dated cable news anchor and Rich Bitch author Nicole Lapin, reportedly only a month later. “It still makes me sad to this day,” Meegan says of their divorce. “We were going in separate directions. I was tired. I didn’t want the pressure — I’d already been so affected by people trying to get close to him for his money. I just have a different soul than he does.” Still, Meegan, an artist and a former Koresh company dancer who owns the Liberty Me Dance Center in Bryn Mawr, can’t say enough about her ex as a co-parent, businessman and human being. “He’s enjoying the fruits of his labor, as he should,” she says, adding, “Freedom is the foundation for happiness, and we both gave each other that gift.”

One of those fruits is owning a piece of the Sixers. (Rubin has also invested in Harris and Blitzer’s other teams, the New Jersey Devils and London’s Crystal Palace soccer club.) As Rubin tells it, his former neighbor, Ed Snider, approached him about buying the team after his eBay windfall, but Rubin passed without looking into it. “Josh and David are savvy,” he says. “They recognized the economics of the business were a lot better than I thought.” NBA commissioner David Stern recommended that Rubin get involved with Harris’s group, and soon the guy who’d made a mint with sports apparel was part of another elite group — pro team owners (and a ’Nova dropout among a group of Penn grads). Via email, Josh Harris calls Rubin “a great guy and a great friend … very creative, full of high energy.” His value to the team, Harris says, is “innovative thinking and his relationships.”

As for who’s responsible for the Sixers’ rise from paupers to playoff threat, Rubin insists that Harris and Blitzer make all the basketball decisions. Coincidence or not, the team has followed a playbook he’s most familiar with — suffering today in exchange for future success. “If you would’ve asked two years ago, when we were going through a really difficult time, people would say we’re a bunch of clowns,” he says. “Today, I think people would say we’re pretty smart, that we’re good owners, and you have to give that credit, first and foremost, to Josh and David. They’ve got the responsibility on their shoulders, and they chose to embark on a really long-term strategy.”

Asked about Rubin’s unusually close relationships with Embiid and Ben Simmons, Harris says it’s a benefit to the team: “I think it’s great to have a member of the ownership group who can relate particularly well to the players and be accessible for any questions or issues they may have. The old days of having a line of demarcation between the owners and players is long gone.” (Insert Colangelo Twitter joke here.)

Even longtime hater of the Process and Sixers ownership critic Howard Eskin doesn’t see a problem with Rubin mixing business and pleasure. “He loves being friends with the players, and I think it’s great,” says Eskin. “Why shouldn’t he enjoy his passion for the game? He doesn’t make decisions on those players. Maybe that’s a good thing.”

Now Rubin has his sights set on the toughest and richest club in all of sports — owners of NFL teams. His bid to buy the Carolina Panthers ended when the asking price ballooned from steep to insane (final sale price: $2.3 billion), but Rubin is “pot committed,” to use a gambling phrase he appreciates. “I believe I’ll have my chances to own an NFL team, and I’m excited to do it,” he says. But the thrill of being close to the action is nothing new to him; his first date with Meegan was, ironically, courtside Sixers seats, and he’s been friends with superstars like Julius Erving for decades. He’s made a fortune, literally. Aside from winning a championship, what’s left to do? “There’s a typical cadence when people are laser-focused on their business,” says Kopelman. “When they hit their 40s and 50s, they widen their aperture. They see their ability to give back.”

•

Meek Mill told his pal Michael Rubin about a dream he had while in prison: Rubin would fly to Chester, land his helicopter in the yard, and carry Mill away to freedom. On April 24th, the day Mill was released, Rubin was determined to make that vision real — even though it was after 3 p.m., the Sixers had a playoff game against the Miami Heat in a few hours, and there was no place to land at the jail. Rubin called in a favor from Harris, who owns the Harrah’s casino across the street, and secured permission to touch down there. “We pick him up, go to the game, and we’ve got multiple news helicopters following our helicopter,” Rubin says. “He’s in his jail outfit, he goes in, hugs everyone, shaves, takes a shower, goes out and rings the bell” — a new Sixers pregame crowd-hyping ritual. “It was insane.”

On the surface, this is another curious Rubin relationship, two guys with seemingly little in common. They met courtside at the 2015 NBA All-Star game in New York — Mill with then-girlfriend Nicki Minaj, Rubin with Kylie — and what began with his daughter chatting the stars up turned into Mill asking Rubin a barrage of questions about the Sixers, sports and business. “I felt like I met a different version of myself,” Rubin says. “I’m a sponge, and he was doing the same thing to me that I do to so many other people. I loved it.” Their shared curiosity led to a fast friendship; Rubin estimates Mill has joined him on 50 separate trips across the country and beyond.

There’s chatter in some circles that the bond between the rich white guy and the ascending rap star is really little more than a branding opportunity, perfect for Rubin’s new celebrity-adjacent public image. But a story Rubin tells about Mill’s case suggests that their connection and his passion for Mill’s cause run deep. “If he wasn’t my boy, I would have never cared,” Rubin says. “I don’t want to seem like some great guy. If Joel said this happened to his friend, I would have written a check. Because it was my close friend, it’s as personal as it gets.” Mill and Rubin had a long-running argument, with the rapper insisting there were two Americas — a black one and a white one — and Rubin saying give me a break, you have a great life, there’s one America.

Mill went to jail in November for violating parole on much-debated gun and drugs convictions from 10 years ago. Rubin was in the courtroom that day, as confident that Mill would be let off as he’s been about any business deal he’s made.

“Michael,” Mill said through the phone from prison hours later, “this is what happens to black people.”

“You’re right, I was wrong,” Rubin said. “I will get you out of this.”

Mill’s incarceration lit a fire under Rubin that his friends say consumed him unlike anything they’ve seen outside his business and his family. Rather than sit idle as the wheels of justice creaked slowly, Rubin took the case to the court of public opinion, launching the Free Meek campaign on billboards and with hashtags with the help of luminaries including Dr. J, Kevin Hart, Allen Iverson and Jay-Z, head of Mill’s record label. (Sources say that between legal fees and other costs, Rubin and Jay-Z split more than $5 million in expenses on Mill’s behalf.) The Inquirer revealed that Ed Rendell personally called Common Pleas Court Judge Genece Brinkley to encourage a compromise on Mill’s parole restrictions. Rubin brought Mill’s case to Rendell’s attention, but he says he didn’t ask him to make that call. Still, he apologizes for none of his aggressive tactics, including his attacks on Brinkley. “My whole life, I evaluate people. I evaluated her, and she was psychologically crazy,” he says. “I wasn’t backing down to her or her broken system. I think a year from now, she won’t be a judge. I think she belongs somewhere between unemployed and being in jail.”

Rubin is applying his appetite for risk and long view in business and sports to the cause of criminal justice reform — not just here, but across the country. He’s announced he’s in the process of setting up a foundation to help people like his buddy, folks living in the other America he never knew existed despite his close proximity to athletes who surely knew otherwise. His goal: to bring “business sense” to a broken system, tackling everything from parole and bail reform and offender reentry to mass incarceration that disproportionately impacts minorities. Rubin won’t confirm who’s involved yet, but the coalition he’s building will be backed by deep pockets and A-list power, and Rubin is dedicating more than $10 million of his own money to the cause. Local political rising star Omar Woodard, director of the venture capital GreenLight Fund that Rubin has backed, says Rubin is uniquely positioned to turn what looks like a quixotic crusade into a victory. “This could change the lives of millions of people,” he says. “This is long-standing work. There’s going to be wins and losses. Who knows that better than entrepreneurs? The fact that he’s found a passion with this, I’m thrilled.”

Someone else who believes in Rubin’s world-shaping potential — and impacts his life like few others — is Robert Kraft. When Kraft’s wife died from ovarian cancer in 2011, Rubin could relate — he struggled after losing his father to heart disease. “I was devastated for a year,” Kraft says. “My kids thought I was not long for the world. Two people helped me a lot — a young lady who I still see a lot [38-year-old model/actress Ricki Noel Lander], and developing a relationship with Michael in both a personal and professional space. We’re both a little nuts — in a healthy way.”

Kraft somehow connects all of the dots of Rubin’s story at this moment in time. Both are considered kids at heart: For Kraft’s birthday in June, Rubin posted a photo of Kraft’s head on Pats tight end Rob Gronkowski’s ripped body; Kraft, in a backward Pats cap, posed for a Monte Carlo pic with Rubin and a tray full of hangover remedies. They bonded over grief for the loved ones they missed. They’re also time-shifted mirror images of each other — Rubin a younger version of Kraft, and Kraft a beacon on the far-off horizon, a life well lived with no signs of slowing down (and a hand with five Super Bowl rings).

Kraft was so taken by Rubin’s passion for Mill’s case that after the two men vacationed in Turks and Caicos with their girlfriends, he joined Rubin for a jailhouse visit in Chester. “I wasn’t really into rappers, but my girlfriend liked rap and exposed me to Rick Ross, and we had him perform at one of our after-parties at the Super Bowl,” Kraft says. “I realized that there’s a lot of messaging there that has a lot of depth and speaks to what’s going on in the inner city. … I told Meek, you have to have boundaries and be careful who’s around you. You can’t disappoint these kids who look up to you. He’s really intelligent and a good guy. That conversation really bonded us.” Kraft’s connection to Rubin is on another level: “He’s a very special person. He’s like a brother. He’s helped me be more open-minded about things. He’s very good at selling, but he has empathy.”

Rubin delivers his sales pitch regarding Mill’s future with conviction. He’s certain Mill has seen the last of prison, despite a setback in August as the Pennsylvania Supreme Court denied a motion to remove Brinkley from the case. But when I ask about a nuclear option I heard he’s pursued — asking Governor Tom Wolf, a vocal Mill supporter, to recommend a pardon if Mill loses all appeals — Rubin pauses before speaking: “It’s never going to come to that, in my mind.” That rare hesitation suggests less a lack of confidence than a sign that Rubin’s already thinking ahead to his next moves.

•

Before we land in Foxborough about two hours ahead of the Birds-and-Patriots kickoff, Rubin finds a way to turn a Mill visitation story into Joel Embiid’s humiliation. When Kevin Hart joined Rubin at the state prison, they walked through crowds of inmates as the comedian shook hands and dapped with the starstruck convicts. For Embiid’s visit, they met Mill in a private room and made no contact with the prisoners. Still, says Rubin, “I’ve never seen someone more terrified in my life.”

“I was scared,” says Embiid, who’d never been to a jail before. “I was literally shaking.”

“Just to put this in perspective, Joel literally turned white as a ghost,” Rubin says. “Kevin Hart, who’s all of five-foot-two, was completely comfortable.” Months later, when Embiid learned Mill was about to be a free man, he FaceTimed Rubin as he jumped up and down on his bed: “I thought he was never coming out,” Embiid says.

When the subject changes to the upcoming Sixers season, Embiid flexes his usual confidence. “We definitely have to make it to the finals — that’s the first step,” he says. “Everybody’s getting better. I’ve gotten so much better. Markelle [Fultz], I’ve seen the videos, he’s got his shot back. Everybody looks good. … We felt like we could have beaten Boston, but every game was close. We just couldn’t finish. Next year is going to be even better.”

Rubin agrees but can’t resist another joke at Embiid’s expense: “He’s not going to be soft like he is in the off-season, when he’s in love and can’t focus.”

“I actually think being in love helps you focus,” Embiid says, deadpanning again. “It’s motivating.”

After 90 minutes, the Rubin/Embiid comedy show ends as the pair and their business pals hop off the heli and into a waiting golf cart that whisks them off to say hi to Lurie and hang with Kraft. The billionaire who horses around like a teenager is a bundle of contradictions: genius and dropout, family man and party boy, team owner and posse member. Framed that way, Rubin might seem like a long shot to own a team in the notoriously conservative NFL, and his chances to change America’s criminal justice system might appear even slimmer. But Kopelman’s analysis of Rubin’s bold predictions for his business could well apply to all of his endeavors. “He’s playing the long-term gratification game,” he says. “If you’re asking if I’d bet on Michael Rubin, I would.”

Published as “Michael Rubin Is Playing the Long Game” in the October 2018 issue of Philadelphia magazine.

Source: https://www.phillymag.com/news/2018/09/29/michael-rubin-meek-mill-joel-embiid-sixers/

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roland-terrasold-blog · 8 years ago

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Journal 53

I hope to catch up my journal to today’s events if possible. I’m frustrated with recent events and ready to leave Sandpoint already, and yet I haven’t even managed to get around to leaving Blackwell in my writing. If I want to use this journal to help me clear my head, it needs to be relatively caught up to current events or it’s pointless. But I digress.

When we returned to the castle a number of Blackwellian soldiers confronted us. Linda had to prove to them that she was really the former king’s daughter, which was handled with a device that somehow used her blood to determine her heritage. Blessedly, the machine worked and confirmed that Linda was the rightful heir, although the general was still understandably skeptical about sudden the change of power. Especially when Linda explained that the power to the city would be going down in a number of months.

Before we did anything, Linda went to collect her newly-found siblings. She decided that she would raise them as her children rather than as her siblings, to avoid any potential problems with succession Blackwell having more children could cause. While I don’t know how good lying to them will be, I do agree that keeping the children out of politics is a wise decision. Especially with how turbulent Blackwell will likely be for the foreseeable future. Linda renamed the infants Levana and Icarus, I’d assume to avoid any confusion at having two Lindas and the awkwardness of the young boy being named after the brother Linda apparently killed before she was even born.

Linda handed the babies off to Meinus, who is apparently excellent with children. Then we went out to the courtyard to wait for Ichibod and for Linda to continue preparing for a speech. The general told Linda that there was a ‘comm tower’ which we could go to, which would allow Linda to speak to the entirety of Blackwell without gathering the entire city together.

Ichibod caught up. For some reason he had a gnome in tow who looks suspiciously like a tiny King Blackwell. When I say that, I mean that Ichibod later drunkenly told me that he used a spell that reincarnated a less insane King Blackwell into a gnome body. He goes by Simmons Bigsby now, and has been helping to take care of the twins. I don’t think he’s a danger to us, without mana he seems to have lost all murderous intent.

There’s some information I suspect Linda would prefer I don’t write down, even in my private journal. Ichibod caught up with us, and for some reason had a gnome named Simmons Bigsby trailing behind him. Linda spoke with him in private, and she seems to have decided to keep him around to help care for the twins.

Ichibod still seemed upset, but less so than before. With the group together again, we headed for the comm. tower. On the way Linda informed us of her intention to make our group an official special ops group, technically working for the royal family. She was conflicted about how to tell the people about the current crisis with the mana being shut down. I gave her my thoughts on it: that she shouldn’t go into too much detail on it until she has a more concrete plan of action, to avoid causing a panic, and for now to focus on the change of power, and maybe touch on the need to use less energy for the time being. Linda declared that I would be editing her speeches from now on. I don’t know how serious she was. I wouldn’t mind if she is, I actually think I like advising her.

Unfortunately my good mood didn’t last long. When we got to the comm. tower a horrific sight awaited us. It was clear that fighting had happened here. There were bodies, and all of them belonged to those Elkin looking clones that work for Clyde. It churned my stomach to see them, although Elkin angrily told me that he didn’t care and that those weren’t him. I agree, they aren’t him…but seeing so many dead bodies with his face is still…

I apologize…even the memory is too gruesome. I feel sick thinking about it.

We found a room where the people who work in the tower had been locked in. From what we heard later, it sounded like there were actually very few civilian casualties despite Clyde’s rampage. Most were locked away like this group had been. I suppose since he wanted the city for himself, Clyde could hardly kill all the people living there or it would defeat the purpose.

The general, a number of guards, and Unae went to check the rest of the building, incase there were any more hostages.

Linda gave her speech, talking into a machine that I guess must work like a scrying sensor, allowing people to see her from all around the city even though she was simply talking to a machine in a mostly empty room. Regardless, she gave an excellent speech, given the circumstances. I’m actually starting to feel, despite my earlier doubts (especially when she had that damned mark on her head), that Linda will make a good leader.

Not long after Linda’s speech, Unae and the general returned. He was suspicious of us, and apparently questioned Unae while they were away from us. Unae didn’t seem to leave a good impression on him. He suspected us of working with Clyde to overthrow King Blackwell, which I admit to it looking that way from an outside perspective. He couldn’t know that Clyde has been our enemy for months, that he was only using us as a means to an end when he gave us our weapons and armor back, or that Linda effectively thwarted any plans he had for Blackwell when she destroyed the mana. Ichibod and Linda tried to explain, but their reasoning fell flat. Linda told the general that we have someone back home who she believes will be able to help with the energy issue, or at least for relocating the citizens, referring of course to Ghel, the monk who saved Linda and raised her. The general gave us an ultimatum: we had two months to find a solution. Until then, Linda wasn’t his queen, and his army wouldn’t obey her.

Linda and Meinus tried to work out how to find the monks, after the former King Blackwell attacked them and forced them into hiding. In the meantime I tried to help Ichibod work through some of what was happening. We talked about Clyde, Mary, and Timmy. Regardless of how he felt about Mary or Clyde, he was understandably worried for his son. I told Ichibod that if Mary really was working with Clyde, then it’s likely he’d find the answers he was looking for back on Galorian. Clyde had to have returned, and that means he likely had Mary and Timmy in tow. Ichibod seemed nervous about the idea of going to such a strange foreign place, but his concern for his son eventually won out. Ichibod went to prepare, and afterwards we were all lead to the former king’s flying ship, the Invincible. We were informed without mana it only had enough power to transport us to Galorian once. We would have to find a different way to get Ghel back to the moon after finding him. Because nothing can ever be easy.

Ichibod and Nel flew the ship for us. We finally appeared back in Galorian, in the middle of the ocean. Ichibod was amazed by the blue sky and the seemingly endless ocean, and couldn’t believe it when he saw dolphins leaping out of the water. I can hardly imagine how amazing the world must look to him, just as I’m sure he couldn’t understand why the moon was such a strange and fascinating place to us.

It took a couple of hours to reach Sandpoint from there. Without a journal to write in, I spent time reading and resting. It felt like it had been months since we slept in the demiplane, even if it was really more like a day since we’d rested.

Finally we reached Sandpoint, although I didn’t recognize it as such at first. The sleepy little town had grown exponentially since our last visit. From the air I could make out the lighthouse, the glassworks, and the temple of Desna. But there was an entire sprawling new section to the town, and it was clear that even more was in the process of being built.

For the first time, we wondered just how long we’d been in Runeforge. We’d forgotten that time moved differently there, on top of our two months unconscious. We found out later that a grand total of eight months had passed since we’d been in Sandpoint last, making our return very close to the year anniversary of when we all met in Sandpoint.

Our ship docked in the port, and Unae, Linda, and I exited. Elkin and Meinus kept sleeping, while Ichibod wanted to play around with the ship more and Nel wanted to run some checks on it or something.

The first person we ran into was fortunately a familiar face, Sheriff Hemlock. The disgruntled Sheriff was more than happy to tell us that there’s always a commotion when we show up, although this time it was in the form of a cheering crowd rather than goblins or giants. I would say it’s a step up, but honestly after what I saw a few minutes later…I don’t know…

Hemlock lead us through the now unfamiliar streets of Sandpoint, intent to have us meet with the mayor. Along the way we saw murals and statues depicting our exploits. Linda looked heroic and powerful, as she would want. Unae looked serene and always had depictions of nature in her artwork. Pictures of me were fairly simple, light colored, and tended to highlight symbols of the Dawnflower. If these were all, it would have been embarrassing as I dislike so much attention, but also very flattering.

Unfortunately, the town fucked up with how they viewed Elkin. The depictions of him were monstrous. They show him wearing a demonic looking mask, holding a blade wrapped in black flames and a bleeding heart. We overheard rumors of Elkin being an evil demon, or of Elkin trying to corrupt Unae. The story was that he was a demon lord who I’d bound into service, forcing him to serve in the name of Sarenrae.

I’m disgusted by it. If you’ve read through my journal, you know the kind of person Elkin is, and how I view him. He is heroic, kind, and more sensitive than he lets on. He’s protective, he struggles with his nature and how others perceive it, but he’s never let that stop him from helping those in need.

We met with the mayor, who explained to us how all this happened. Apparently it started with Lord Grabinath, who had been spreading our story since we (admittedly inadvertently) saved him from an assassination attempt. He encouraged the story to spread and then used our likeness to promote his own agenda. However according to the mayor, Grabinath didn’t twist Elkin’s image into how he’s perceived now.

That was done when the church of Sarenrae decided to get involved, due to my role in our group. I still have a hard time believing it, even as I write it. The church spun lies about a good man, to make him look like a monster and give me the hero role as the one who forces him to repent. Just thinking about it…I admittedly raised my voice towards the mayor when she told us, and I regret that. It wasn’t her doing, she was merely telling me what had happened since we vanished.

I still have a hard time believing it. At the time I hoped—I prayed—it was a misunderstanding. That I could tell the clerics in town about this horrible error, there would be apologies all around and the church would make a statement denouncing this depiction of my dear friend. How could followers of Sarenrae—who teaches to accept anyone who walks the path of good regardless of race—possibly choose to depict Elkin as a monster simply for his heritage?

Unfortunately I’ve met Cardinal Zalbrag since then. Everything was very intentional, and he cares nothing for my firsthand accounts of Elkin’s good deeds.

I actually ran into the snake the first time while leaving the mayor’s office. I had the feeling from how he talked that Zalbrag felt we were beneath him, and I was later proven correct. Zalbrag told me that he needed me to some to the Temple of Desna at my earliest convenience to fill out some papers regarding my priesthood. I tried to remain polite—remember I was still in denial and thought he might actually listen to reason—and assured him that I would meet with the clerics at the church later. Zalbrag made a none-too-subtle comment about me needing to stay humble and then left.

To be blunt, that man pisses me off. It feels like he looks down on everyone. He clearly hates me, and he despises Elkin even more so. He talks like he knows Sarenrae’s will even as he acts directly against her teachings, and he thinks he’s utterly justified the entire time. He is so opposed to everything I believe in, to everything I’ve ever viewed Sarenrae as, I still can’t believe a man like him somehow became a high ranking member of the church. How can a church that accepts the authority of a man like Zalbrag follow the same Dawnflower I’ve been following this entire time? Something is wrong. I feel sick and disgusted…and more than anything, utterly betrayed.

I need some time to cool down, I’ll continue this later.

#Journal Entry #pathfinder #Rise of the Runelords #Roland is pissed #seriously Cardinal Zalbrag pissed Roland off more than anyone else this entire game

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zipgrowth · 6 years ago

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Growth over Grades: How a Resubmit Policy Is Helping Us Build a Culture of Revision

This is the second part of a two-part story about changing classroom culture. Read part one to learn how this teacher improved her student feedback system to increase student engagement.

"Are you going to resubmit your chemical changes model?" Valentina asked Jayda.

"I'm not sure,” Jayda responded, “I'm already at proficient and I understand all the concepts, so mastery work wouldn't really be worth it for me." Hearing a student say that work isn’t worth it would send most teachers into a downward spiral, but these words brought me joy.

Jayda was confident that she understood the material, and hearing her make a choice not to pursue additional work for the purpose of chasing an extra few points on her grade made me proud.

At Forest Ridge, an independent all-girls school serving students in grades 5-12 in Bellevue, Wash., we've been grappling with how to support students in focusing on growth over grades for years.

In 2016, our school began putting intentional effort into getting our students to value the learning process and to focus on growth rather than grades. At the same time, our middle school science department made the switch from traditional grading to standards-based assessment and overhauled our philosophy to focus on fostering revision practices. One of the significant changes we made was to offer an open resubmit policy, meaning any student could revise and resubmit any assessed work up until the end of the following unit for up to full credit.

In my eighth grade physical science class, I took all the steps that I believed would help my students focus on the learning process and their growth along the way. I didn’t grade behaviors like participation or timely work submission, I praised effort over achievement and I carved out ample time for goal setting and reflection. I expected transformative outcomes, but they were slow to come.

To Resubmit or Not to Resubmit—That Became the Question

By 2017, my students were still setting up meetings to ask me, “How can I get my grade above a 90 percent?" They were still emailing me just minutes after their grades were posted to ask questions about how their overall grade would change in response to a new score. I overheard frequent conversations in which students tried to one-up each other with tales of how little they slept, the size of their homework load or how little they’d eaten all day. Rachel Simmons, author of “Enough as She Is,” a book about self-confidence for girls, refers to this as “competitive stress,” or the "Stress Olympics," which was rampant at our school.

The culture around grading was still pretty toxic—even with the new resubmit policy. Perhaps it was because the only students taking advantage of it were the ones who already had very high grades.

Unfortunately, when I approached my administrators to discuss going gradeless, I was told that it was off the table for the time being. Families with their eyes set on elite colleges are understandably apprehensive about moving away from the status-quo into the unknown of a gradeless education. So I asked myself: If I'm stuck using traditional grades to define student success, how can I make those grades as meaningful as possible?

Simply having an open resubmit policy wasn’t enough to drive productive revision for all students. I worked with my colleagues and students to develop a feedback and revision system that leverages digital technologies and classroom protocols to teach feedback literacy skills, make actionable feedback constantly available and give students the agency to act on their feedback. With the addition of feedback and assessment literacy practices, my students now have the information and strategies necessary to engage in iterative learning.

So, Does a Resubmit Policy Actually Work?

Since our switch to standards-based assessment in 2016, I've been keeping records on academic achievement and revision behaviors. Comparing academic performance and submission behaviors of students from before and after our shift to standards-based grading (SBG), I notice that the data reveals some fascinating trends.

Source: Christine Witcher

Greater Proficiency: In 2015-16, 74 percent of my students were earning grades that would now be identified as at or above proficiency, but these scores were not based in any standards. When we moved to standards-based grading, that number dipped to 51 percent. The added rigor of assessing on each standard without the cushion of participation and completion points, was challenging for students. This year, 76 percent of my students are at or above proficient. My conclusion is that this feedback-focused revision system is effective at supporting students in attaining or exceeding proficiency.

Redefining Mastery: Our first year of standards-based grading was an experiment. We were liberal with mastery level, awarding it to almost any student who was proficient and resubmitted their work. We’ve since fine-tuned our definition of mastery and it's more complex and open-ended. Though the number of students attaining mastery has fluctuated each year, this system has helped us communicate high standards to students and avoid grade inflation.

It Takes Time: During 2015-16, we did not accept resubmits so the number of submitted versions was 1.0. By the following year, that had risen to 1.2 versions as we introduced the new policy, but still, less than a quarter of our assignments were resubmitted across that first year. As students got accustomed to this new policy, that number increased to 1.5 submissions per assignment in the 2017-18 school year. I’ve concluded that it takes time and consistency for a resubmit policy to make sense and become part of the practice of learning for students.

Fewer Resubmits, More Revision: The drop in the number of versions this 2018-19 school year is intriguing. This data point alone, dropping from 1.5 to 1.2 average versions per assignment, appears concerning and makes me wonder: why are fewer students resubmitting their work? However, looking at this data point in combination with the average score distribution, I see the bigger picture. Fewer students need to resubmit their work, because they are revising their work in response to feedback before it is due. This conclusion is also supported by the data gathered during summative self-assessments. When asked what behaviors led up to the submission of an assignment, students are reporting revision-focused habits.

Source: Christine Witcher

One of the questions that started this journey in the first place was: How can I support students in being the drivers of their own learning? Now I can answer it with strong supporting evidence. I can support students by giving them the opportunity to iterate on their work, and teaching them the skills they need to do it successfully. This holistic approach of providing actionable information, teaching feedback literacy skills and giving students the agency to act on it, is critical to increasing student agency.

When we teach students to revise productively, we don't have to worry about them taking advantage of retakes as an opportunity to slack off the first time, or suffer a growing achievement gap in our classrooms. And with digital tools and classroom protocols, we no longer have to drown in grading—that burden can shift beneficially to our students. An open resubmit policy works, as long as it's paired with a robust feedback system.

This is the second part of a two-part story about changing classroom culture. Read part one to learn how this teacher improved her student feedback system to increase student engagement.

Growth over Grades: How a Resubmit Policy Is Helping Us Build a Culture of Revision published first on https://medium.com/@GetNewDLBusiness

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comiconverse · 7 years ago

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Wizard World: Wonder-Filled Weekend In Philly

Wizard World Philadelphia 2017 is in the books. My mission this year at the Pennsylvania Convention Center was to tap into all elements the event had to offer. From comic books to celebrities and cosplay to creators, there was a little bit of something for all fans. This was Wizard World Philly through my eyes…

Welcome To Wizard World

The first thing I noticed upon entering the building was an increase in safety measures. Off to the side was a cosplay weapons check prior to moving forward through metal detectors. I am quite accustomed to metal detectors at rock concerts, sporting events, and of course airports but, this is the very first time I had seen it a comic con. The security upgrade did not seem to add much more time to the ordinary line wait. Given events as of late, I am sure that fans will appreciate steps being taken to improve the safety for all involved. My hope is that all comic conventions can quickly implement a system of efficacy. Once inside though, let the fun begin! There was no better way to describe stepping onto the convention floor than when I overheard a little girl turn to her brother and exclaim “THIS is Comic Con!”

Celebrities

One thing most fans appreciate about Wizard World is their variety of celebrity guests and Philly was no different. Ralph Macchio (The Outsiders, Karate Kid), C. Thomas Howell (The Outsiders), John Cusak (Say Anything), Lou Ferrigno (Hulk), and Barry Bostwick (The Rocky Horror Picture Show) were a few of the guests providing a blast from the past. Just a few steps away from them was the ever charismatic fan favorite Michael Rooker along with buddy Sean Gunn representing current Marvel blockbuster movie, Guardians of the Galaxy. Fans were also happily lined up to get some face time with stars Jesse Eisenberg (Social Network, Batman v Superman), Billie Piper (Doctor Who), and Paul Wesley (Vampire Diaries).

For those more action oriented, martial arts expert Chuck Norris as well as some WWE® Superstars were on hand for meet and greet. One of the biggest draws this year though came from the world of musical entertainment with rock legend Gene Simmons. Mr. Simmons greeted fans warmly as he signed albums, posters, action figures and so much more. Not only did the Kiss front man make an appearance at the convention center, he also performed on stage at the Trocadero Theater. Many more guests were available over the weekend; it was nice to see them set up in such a way so that fans could catch a glimpse of all their favorites.

Artists and Creators

I was pleasantly surprised by the high-caliber of creative talent available at Wizard World Philly. Painters, writers, sketch artists and more all serving up amazing renditions of our favorite characters as well as drawing us into realms all their own. I am blessed to know and meet so many amazing individuals that bring imagination to life. There is nothing sweeter than observing that talent in action and I implore all fans to take the time and visit these hard-working individuals. The best way to memorialize your con experience? Pick up some artwork and have it autographed by your favorite celebrity!

Events, Entertainment, Exhibits

There was much to be seen on the Wizard World convention floor. Strike a pose next to an exact replica of the infamous Impala ‘Baby’ from the CW hit show Supernatural, have a seat on the Iron Throne, grab a selfie with an Avenger, get green-screened into the Stephen King Dark Tower universe, or visit a makeup artist to transform yourself into a zombie. Got kids? Take a trip to the Kid’s Zone to burn off some pint-sized energy. Got game? Have a seat in the Gamers Lounge and get ready to battle!

Panels. I was hoping to get to more. Being that most are on another level with an inability to get back in without going through security again made the process a bit challenging when faced with time constraints. That being said, there were definitely plenty from which to choose! Celebrity Q&As, speed dating and cosplay were just a few of the featured topics. I had the pleasure to sit in on one called Words Into Pictures: How To Write Comics with Wonder Woman’s Amy Chu, Spider-man Noir’s Fabrice Sapolsky, The Red Hook’s Dean Haspiel & Darkhawk’s Danny Fingeroth. I feel it is important to learn about the process behind creating comics; it helps in developing a solid appreciation and understanding for the work that goes into the characters and worlds we cherish. Whatever your curiosity though, grab a seat and listen in!

In my effort to keep up with latest in actually sharing all things geek chic, I have been taking note of comic con podcasts. Sure enough, I met a great group of guys from Fireside Podcasting. It was cool to grab an inside peek during one of their pods featuring two incredibly skilled artists on site, CJ Draden and JaCo Tartaruga. It is absolutely fascinating to hear what lies inside the mind of any creator; what drives them, what inspires them or even what hinders their talent. I encourage fans to check out Fireside pods so that they too can find a place “where comics and class collide!”

Cosplay and Collectibles

Ok, ok…no big surprise here. The talk of the convention was DC’s mega blockbuster release of Wonder Woman. One look around the convention floor and you saw the love being shown for her with some incredibly crafted cosplay. While Wonder Woman was indeed a prominent feature throughout the weekend, there were many fandoms represented in outstanding fashion. As with most comic conventions, the cosplayers continually provide an atmosphere of fun and imagination. Logan, Yondu, Iron Man, Gandalf, Harley Quinn, Deadpool… You just never know who you will run into. Have your camera ready!

Of course no comic convention would not be complete without collectibles. Discerning collectors were seen throughout the floor in search of that special treasure needed to enhance their ever expanding collections. Comic books, figurines, retro toys, t-shirts and jewelry were available to all those looking to give them a new home. My advice? Bring your wallet and a very large bag!

Organization

The fans I spoke with seemed quite happy with their experience at Wizard World Philly. The volunteers and staff were polite and friendly. The one area of improvement recommended by everyone I spoke with was to have better signage. Perhaps aisle numbers from the ceiling or even volunteers stationed throughout the floor to give direction would be helpful. The biggest challenge in attending this event was locating panels, artists, and vendors. There were no maps handed to me upon entry and when one was finally located the print was very tiny and hard to read. With so much to see and do, a fan wants to find it all! The upside? You were able to take in things you may have normally missed while on your search.

See You Next Year

I would like to thank Wizard World Philadelphia for inviting me to take part in their exciting weekend. I look forward to many more adventures with them in the future! Be sure to visit the Wizard World website to find a show near you. Follow them on social media for all the latest news and updates Facebook: @wizardworld Twitter: @WizardWorld Instagram: @wizardworld

Keeping You Comic Con-nected!

The post Wizard World: Wonder-Filled Weekend In Philly appeared first on ComiConverse.

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theartofbeinganerd · 7 years ago

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A day late and a dollar short, but here it is folks, Part Thirteen of 1 Night (+9 Months) - which is likely to only have a couple more parts after this one, so we’re really getting close now!

((Did I ever mention that there would be mutual pining? Because yeah, there’s some mutual pining oops))

(Ao3)

“I still just can’t believe it.”

Jemma indulged in a little roll of her eyes at Daisy’s exaggeratedly-shocked tone, hidden as she was rifling through her closet for something to wear on her date with Fitz that night. Once Bobbi and Daisy had found out about the event (Jemma suspected that Fitz had let it slip to Hunter, who in turn had spilled the beans to Bobbi, who then passed the information along to Daisy, but she didn’t have any solid proof), the two had showed up at her doorstep and barged into her flat, demanding details.

Fortunately, Fitz had left earlier that day to head back to his own flat in order to find some nicer clothes to wear and get ready as well, so he hadn’t accidentally overheard any of Daisy’s loud and embarrassing comments and questions.

“I mean, I never thought Fitz would work up the courage – I was so sure that it would have to be you who made a move for anything to happen, Jem, and you’ve been insisting for months now that nothing could happen between you guys,” Daisy continued, gesturing widely with her hands as she went on, her eyes rounded with continued shock.

Leaning further out of her closet to make their conversation easier, Jemma reminded her, “I still have to be careful, you know, even though I’m sure now that Fitz feels something for me in return. And, besides, I still can’t be guaranteed that it’s the same as how I feel for him.” Ignoring the eye-roll Daisy gave and the low scoff that issued from Bobbi, she continued, “We have to take things slowly and cautiously, because well…we aren’t just two people going on a date – we’re Evelyn’s parents first.” She nodded then to where Evelyn was happily perched on Bobbi’s lap, playing with a set of plastic tools that Fitz had delightedly purchased for her recently.

“You’re right, you do have to be careful,” Bobbi agreed softly, though her eyebrow was arched in the way that Jemma knew she was being analyzed and was about to receive some form of advice. “But, I also don’t think that you should be too cautious that you accidentally mess things up with Fitz, or don’t take any chances, because I think that you two could really make each other happy.”

Flushing just a bit, Jemma nodded, silently agreeing with Bobbi on that as she promised aloud, “Well, I’ll do my best.” Just then, she couldn’t quite hold back on her excited little shimmy as she admitted, “I just can’t believe that we’re actually here, that I’m preparing for a date with Fitz. I’ve been so afraid that…that I’d just spend the rest of my days being hopelessly in love with him from afar.”

Daisy let out an inelegant snort at that. “Jem, with the current situation you and Fitz have got going on, someone was bound to break eventually.” Leveling a knowing look and a smirk at Jemma, she added, “With how thirsty you can be, I’m sorry to say Jemma, it probably would’ve been you.”

Scoffing and ducking back into her closet to hide her blush, Jemma called over her shoulder, “I’m not thirsty – I’m a mother, and I’ve got bigger priorities than getting Fitz into bed, thank you.”

“Getting Fitz into bed is the reason you’re a mother,” Bobbi reminded her helpfully, but Jemma pointedly chose to ignore it.

Despite herself, however, she couldn’t help replaying a few choice memories from that night almost two years ago, and an eager little shiver traveled up her spine as she imagined that soon she might be experiencing a repeat of that night, perhaps many times, all without the haze of alcohol. Even though she’d never admit it out loud (and especially not to her nosy, gossiping friends), she really was looking forward to the possibilities.

Stepping back out of her closet, Jemma held up a clothes hanger in each hand, dresses hanging on either one, and asked, “Opinions?”

Almost immediately, Daisy’s eyes grew wide, and through her brilliant grin, she collapsed into a coughing fit that had even Evelyn glancing up. Pointing exaggeratedly toward the dress in Jemma’s right hand, she managed to cry out through the coughs, “It’s the boob dress! Jemma Simmons, you totally want to get laid!”

Feeling her cheeks begin to burn, Jemma snapped defensively, “That’s not my plan at all! You know, not everything is about sex, Daisy.” Throwing a look at the dress in question, which did show a bit more cleavage than any of her other dresses and had gotten her some very good results in the past, Jemma shook her head before hanging it back up in her closet. Left with the other, more conservative dress, she told Daisy pointedly, “See?” as she laid it on the bed (out of Evelyn’s sticky-fingered reach). “I have no ulterior motives for tonight; I plan to go on a nice, romantic date out to dinner with Fitz, and then we’ll see where things go. Besides, you know I don’t put out on the first date.”

With a little chuckle and an arched eyebrow, Bobbi pointed out, “Well, you did put out two years before Fitz ever even asked you on a date.”

Huffing and crossing her arms over her chest, Jemma replied simply, “Semantics.”

Then, with Daisy and Bobbi keeping an eye on Evelyn for her, Jemma got ready for the date, curling her hair and doing her makeup before finally putting the dress on. She was just perching on the end of her bed to slip her heels on when her phone began to ring somewhere behind her.

Startled by the sudden sound, she glanced over her shoulder and found Daisy just picking up the nearby phone to read the screen. “It’s Charlotte,” she informed her.

Pleasantly surprised, Jemma took the offered phone from her and answered the call, lifting it to her ear as she said without a greeting, “Char, you’ll never believe what I’m doing tonight.” After all, Charlotte had been just as sure as anyone else that there was something going on between her and Fitz; she figured she’d let her sister get her inevitable ‘I told you so’s in sooner rather than later.

However, Charlotte then replied softly, “Jem…” and there was a catch in her voice that had Jemma’s heart sinking into her stomach as though it was made of concrete.

All in all, it was a short conversation and it wasn’t long before Jemma was hanging up the phone in a daze. Before Daisy and Bobbi could even ask her what had happened, Jemma was up and across the room, digging out her suitcase and mindlessly dropping clothes and other essentials into it. To herself, she muttered under her breath everything that she had to get done as soon as possible, “Get a plane ticket, pack up Evelyn’s things, call the lab…” She wasn’t even listening as her friends gently tried to prompt her.

She didn’t hear the doorbell ring, didn’t notice as Daisy got up to answer the door, or as she returned to Jemma’s bedroom with Fitz. It wasn’t until Fitz whispered, “Jemma…you look…” that she finally glanced up to reveal the tears causing her carefully applied makeup to run down her cheeks.

His easy, adoring smile fell in an instant and he stepped toward her, holding out his hands helplessly as though he wanted to offer her aid or just some comfort, but didn’t know how. Just then, she couldn’t help but notice through the fog in her brain that he was wearing a dark blue button-up shirt that brought out his eyes and a tie for Christ’s sake, and if everything wasn’t so abruptly wrong she’d no doubt have been giggling and blushing like a school girl.

“Jemma,” he said softly, concern clear in both his tone and his furrowed brow, “what’s wrong? What do you need from me?”

Jemma just barely caught a glance of her friends slipping out of the room then with a sleepy Evelyn in tow, her little cheek resting against Bobbi’s shoulder. Her focus quickly returned to Fitz as she told him a bit brokenly, a bit desperately, “I – I need to…I have to go home, Fitz. I need to…oh, I have so much to do…”

“Why?” Fitz asked, his tone still remarkably gentle and understanding, even though he couldn’t possibly understand, since she’d yet to even tell him what was wrong. “What’s happened? Is everything alright?”

She shook her head in response, sucking in a ragged breath before she explained, “Charlotte called, and…my dad, he…he’s in the hospital, Fitz. She said that he had an awful heart attack and…” She paused then, giving a slightly unhinged, watery laugh before going on, “You know, we were always telling him to slow down, to ease off of his workload a bit and just take some time to de-stress, but…he never listened, did he?”

As soon as she’d finished, Fitz asked seriously, “What do you need to do now?”

Releasing an almost unconscious sigh of relief that Fitz had automatically understood and was ready to help her (as if there’d been any doubt in her mind that he would), Jemma repeated the items on her mental list, “Get a plane ticket, pack up Evelyn’s things, call the lab, and finish with my packing.”

“Okay.” Fitz nodded, then told her, “I’ll get Evelyn packed up and buy our tickets.”

At first, Jemma didn’t even notice his use of the word ‘our’, but when she did, a frown tugged her lips down at the corners and she shook her head. “Fitz…you can’t just…you have to go to work and you can’t just drop everything for me.”

Fitz stepped closer to her, reaching out to gently grasp her upper arms in his hands as he argued softly, “Of course I can. Jemma, if you need me, then I’m here. Always.” He was quiet for a moment, then, as he gazed into her eyes, he asked, “Do you need me, Jemma?”

At his words, Jemma wanted to start crying even harder, felt a sob building in the back of her throat because god did she ever need him – he was all that she could ever need, and she truly didn’t know how she was supposed to get through this without him. But, she also knew that she really couldn’t ask him to drop everything and fly to Sheffield with her, no matter what he said; she didn’t even know how long she’d be gone, after all.

So, Jemma cleared her throat and did her level best to keep her voice from shaking as she told him, “Fitz…you should stay here, get everything sorted, and…if I’m still in England in a couple of days, then I won’t stop you from coming to join me.”

It was one of the hardest things she’d ever had to do (all she wanted was to curl up in his arms and cry into his shoulder and let him hold her together), but she knew that she couldn’t be selfish when it came to Fitz’s life, so she did it anyway.

He seemed to hesitate for another moment, then he released a sigh and nodded. “Alright,” he agreed lowly as he lifted a hand to thumb away some of the tears still rolling down her cheek.

“I’m sorry for ruining our date,” Jemma started to apologize, but Fitz was quick to cut her off.

“Don’t,” he said firmly, shaking his head. “This isn’t your fault, Jemma, okay? I don’t blame you in the least, and I’ll still be here whenever you’re ready; nothing’s been ruined.”

Jemma felt the sudden and desperate urge to kiss him then (he was so close, all it would take was half a step, her heels putting her at the exact right height to lean across the small distance and slot her lips against his), but if she were to kiss him now, she was fully aware that she might never have been able to stop. With that thought firmly in mind, she forced herself to step away so that she could continue her packing instead; the sooner she finished, the sooner she could get to her father’s side.

However, she stopped after only a couple of steps and turned back slightly to meet Fitz’s eyes as she murmured, “Thank you, Fitz.” She wanted to add that she didn’t know what she’d do without him, but she had the feeling that he already knew that well, so she simply offered him a wobbly smile and hoped that he understood just how much she loved him and appreciated his presence in her life.

Fitz’s answering smile was full of warmth and affection and comfort, and Jemma’s heart surged in her chest, no longer feeling still and frozen as it had since she’d gotten the news from Charlotte. “Always,” he promised, then he left the room to go get Evelyn’s things ready.

As Jemma stepped back into her closet to continue grabbing some clothes to take for the trip, her gaze fell on the “boob dress”, as Daisy had called it, and she paused. She stared at it for a handful of moments, then pulled it down and removed it from its hanger, shoving it into her suitcase before she could think twice.

Of course, her first priority was her father and her family just now, but she had to find something to help her believe that things would turn out alright, that her father would be okay, even the smallest, most ridiculous thing. At that moment, all she could seem to think was that if everything did turn out to be alright, then she and Fitz could make up for tonight. It would give her hope, at least.

Once she’d finished packing, she (rather reluctantly) changed from her dress and heels into a much more casual outfit of jeans, a jumper, and trainers, then cleaned away what was left of her makeup. Before she left her bedroom, she took a moment to leave a message for her supervisor at the lab, explaining the situation and telling her to call if she had any questions.

Upon exiting her bedroom with her suitcase in tow, Jemma found that Bobbi and Daisy had left at some point, and Fitz glanced up from where he was waiting on the couch, Evelyn asleep against his shoulder and her packed little suitcase resting by his feet. “All set?” he asked, nodding to her own suitcase as she placed it down beside Evelyn’s.

“Yes, I think so,” Jemma answered, running a hand through her hair before she gathered it all together and tied it into a ponytail. “When did Daisy and Bobbi leave?”

“Not long after I arrived,” Fitz replied, “But I explained the situation and they said to tell you that they’re just a phone call away if you need to talk.” A little smile curving his lips, he added, “And so am I, for the record, any time of day or night.”

His words managed to pull her lips up into a tiny smile of her own, and she nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Oh.” He shifted Evelyn carefully so that he could tug his phone out of the pocket of his slacks, and told her, “I’ve already done some searching for tickets, and there’s a plane that leaves later tonight.”

Breathing a quiet sigh of relief that he’d helped to check off another item on her frenzied to-do list, Jemma thanked him. Once she’d purchased the ticket, she was sure to text Charlotte, letting her know the details of the flight and when she should hopefully be arriving.

“I can drive you to the airport, if you’d like,” Fitz offered suddenly, and Jemma opened her mouth to tell him that he’d already done enough, but he was clearly anticipating her response as he went on, “I mean, you can’t carry both suitcases and Evelyn on your own.”

“Alright,” Jemma finally accepted, however grudgingly – she’d already been a bother enough to him tonight (though she would’ve never guessed it by looking at him, with his warm smiles and kind eyes and willingness to do whatever he could to make this whole situation easier for her).

When they arrived at the airport, Jemma checked in at the desk. Fitz insisted on waiting with her up until her flight was called, even though he could’ve just gone home and gone to sleep, even though he was still dressed up in his nice clothes, his tie now slightly askew.

Finally, the silence they’d fallen into was broken by the announcement of her flight, and Jemma rose from her seat as Fitz hurried to get up as well, and she cautiously extricated Evelyn from his arms, so as not to wake her. Before she could take a step away, Fitz gently caught her arm and murmured, “Hey, everything’s going to be alright.”

Giving him a weak smile and a nod, Jemma told him, “Thank you again, Fitz.” She wasn’t sure whether she was thanking him for everything he’d done for her tonight, or was simply thanking him just for existing, for being in her life.

“Of course,” Fitz replied, lightly squeezing her arm. “No matter what, I’ll see you in a couple of days, okay?” When she’d given another nod, he leaned forward to drop a kiss on Evelyn’s head, whispering, “I love you, Evie, and I’ll see you soon too.”

He moved to pull back from Jemma’s personal space then, but before he’d retreated completely, Jemma abruptly leaned in to brush a kiss just at the corner of his lips, giving into the temptation that had been haunting her for months now. She was already emotionally compromised tonight, and couldn’t be expected to completely hold back at a time like this (or at least, that was what she told herself).

Fitz froze immediately, and after a beat, he slowly leaned back just far enough to meet her eyes. There was a sudden heat, a longing in his gaze that had Jemma’s stomach twisting up in knots. She licked her lips unconsciously, and sucked in a sharp breath when Fitz’s eyes darted down to watch the action.

Jemma could feel herself swaying closer, her eyelids flickering as she started to close her eyes, her self-control all-but disappearing –

But, then the loud call of her flight being announced once more broke into the moment, and they both snapped out of it, taking hasty steps back from one another. Clearing his throat and glancing anywhere but at her, Fitz repeated, “I’ll see you in a couple of days, then.” He blinked, then cautiously brought his gaze back to meet hers, and added, “Don’t forget to call me when you land, okay? Even if it’s the middle of the bloody night here, I won’t care.”

“I will,” Jemma promised, her voice merely more than a whisper as she told him, “I’ll see you soon, Fitz.” Then, she forced herself to turn away from him and to go get on the plane because right now, despite her entire body aching more and more with every step she took away from Fitz, she knew that she needed to be in Sheffield, where her whole family was waiting on her.

Or, well, she would be with her whole family, if Fitz did end up joining them in a couple of days.

Jemma inhaled a deep breath, readjusted her grip on Evelyn, and double-checked that she had her boarding pass as she reminded herself sternly, twenty-four hours without Fitz, I can do this. She nodded decisively, but it was only a moment before she grimaced a bit and added, or at least, I hope I can.

#shayna writes #fsfic #fitzsimmons #one night stand au #1 night (+9 months) series #part thirteen #look y'all i told you it wouldn't be this easy #but it's not like this can keep fs apart for long #because nothing can #not oceans or hell planets or alternate dimensions #it's just a little bump in the road #so what i'm really saying is don't kill me??#k thnx

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