#played board games with a bunch of people mostly men and none of them were douchebags

[metatheatre]

i started going to UU services, an action that can be traced directly back to good omens. this is the funniest possible outcome.

[isbus]

The House Of Villains Chapter 1

Tags: (insert the prologue tags), slice of life, Walmart, card games, Kars doesn’t know things, not so subtle foreshadowing, references to later chapters, card games, board games,

Chapter 1: Game Night

They were all doing their thing- Diavolo and Doppio chatted together, Dio sat on the couch watching an animal documentary with Kars, Santana was still in the attic, Esidisi and Wamuu talked at the table, and Pucci dusted. They didn't do much else until Kira opened the door when coming home from work. 

Dio turned off the TV, bringing Kars back to reality. Everyone turned to Kira when they heard the television shut off. "Kars, could you get Santana?" Dio asked politely. Kars immediately went up to the attic. 

.

.. 

...

"Put me down!" Santana shouted. Kars went down the stairs, holding Santana on his shoulder. Kars put the younger of the four pillar men on the couch, then sat on his bean bag. 

"Now that Kira is home, I have an idea to share." Dio began. Kira had an idea about what Dio was going to say. It was going to be something outrageous. "We are not normal, and if we continue our ways, our neighbors are going to see it. What we need to do is act normal, and what better way than a family tradition? We are going to try something called 'Family Game Night'." 

Silence... Was it from awe? Or disgust? Or even- 

"Okay. It's simple, all you have to do is play board games." Kira stepped towards the stairs before being stopped by Pucci's question. 

"Do we even have board games? The closest thing we have to a game is tarot cards but we don't have a full deck." Enrico asked simply. 

Kira didn't think about that. He wasn't the type to play games, he was the type to do work, so he sold his board games. "Well, we can always get some. It's not like we're too poor for it. Let's go to the store. Besides, I have things to pick up for me and my girlfriend." 

"Ooh, I didn't know you had a girlfriend!" Dio exclaimed. 

"Congratulations, you finally got one!" Doppio smiled from ear to ear. 

"Don't tell me it's the cat." Wamuu closed his eyes disapprovingly. 

Kira scoffed. "You all are so rude." Yoshikage began to put his work stuff back in his room then stopped. "She's human by the way." 

- Time Skip brought to you By: Disrespecting Businessmen -

Getting dressed like normal people, which they obviously were not, and a few getting their parasols, led them out the door. Kira began to lead before Dio rushed to the front. "Let me." He smiled. As the leader of this group, Dio just HAD to lead. Dio started to walk in front of the Joestar house before he stopped. 

"Why'd you stop?" Kira spoken quietly, partially glaring at the captain. 

Dio smirked sweetly, as if he was in front of a lover of his. He appeared bold to the others, but to the cat lover, he looked like his title was "Super Stupid". "Where's the store?" The blonde vampire fluttered his eyelashes, holding the parasol between his jaw and shoulder while his hands held his knees as he crouched to be at eye level.

Kira sighed. "Just follow me." They continued, this time with Kira in the lead and Dio right behind. The villainous cast spoke to each other as they walked behind Kira. Dio started to strike up a conversation with Pucci, but Pucci immediately dismissed him. 

They looked around at their neighborhood, several houses and people were around the area. The homes on one side of the street had a bunch of friendly people- like that kid in a baseball player outfit around house number 1506, or the teen with a mostly shaved head and pompadour with the older blonde boy that has the braid. 

All that friendliness was enough to make some of the villains question this neighborhood. With those happy faces, it was hard to be in a bad mood. It's like the happiness was rubbing off on them while rubbing them the wrong way. Dio thought about it then shrugged. Kars was glancing around for squirrels that he saw on TV. Kira stayed serious, and continued leading. Doppio and Diavolo spoke back and forth with each other. Pucci strutted as if he wasn't a sucker for God. 

It was taking five-ever. Everyone, excluding Kira, wished it was right around the corner. Past the "For Sale!" homes, and past the other blocks, it took at least three minutes. Well, it would've taken three minutes but Kars found a squirrel and a hawk started following Dio. The hawk presumably got the chain holding it broke and flew away, looking for a new owner since it had a collar and purple scarf. What a fancy bird. 

But the bird may or may not be important. The hawk followed them all the way to the store, then waited by the door. The villain group stepped inside, Kars and the two older pillar men struggled a bit (especially Kars) Santana fit through perfectly though. 

The part of the group that was foreign to this place (that is totally not Wal-Mart) looked around in awe. They put away their parasols and held them by their sides. "Hi welcome to Wal-Mart!" A lady at the front said with a smile. 

As if the woman smashed a bottle and yelled "scatter!", they began walking around. Dio read the sign that said "woman's" and just HAD to see the panty section. Pucci joined him, hoping he wasn't doing what he thought he was doing. Diavolo and Doppio went to the technology section. Kars and Wamuu gone to the pet area. Esidisi and Santana went to the toy section. Leaving Kira alone. Yoshikage looked behind him and saw nobody. 

"This is just great. Everyone left faster than me saying 'Bite the Dust'." Kira spoke to himself. "Come on darling. Let's find them." He looked in his jacket pocket to speak to his girlfriend. 

- Time Skip Brought to you By: Bite Za Dusto

Since Kira was going to the game area and it was right next to the toy section, Kira grabbed a few games and put it in the cart that he grabbed off screen. He heard the angsty teen's voice. "I don't want dolls, I want- wait that one is actually kinda cute... Can I have him?" Santana nearly shouted at first but his voice died down after he found the most handsome doll. 

Kira gone to the doll isle and saw the two- Esidisi was explaining how Kira would get it for him as Santana held a doll with blonde hair and blue eyes. The blonde cat lover coughed. "Come on you two, let's find the others." Santana slightly pouted like he REALLY wanted the doll. "Put it in the cart." The redhead thanked Yoshikage and put the doll in there.

The three gone past the technology section but paused when seeing the pink haired boys looking at phones. They seemed to be agreeing on something, when Kira got closer, the men saw a figure of a manga character in Doppio's hands. 

"I could always get it for you. But I forgot my wallet." Diavolo explained before Doppio started looking glum. 

"How much is it?" Yoshikage's serious voice cut through to their ears. Doppio's face lit up from the darkness of the other's words. 

Doppio checked the price on the bottom and read it aloud. "Twenty dollars." Kira nodded to the cart, signaling him to put the figure in the cart. The pink haired boy done as he was "told", and set the manga character in the cart. 

"Now, where are those last few?" Kira asked himself. Suddenly, he remembered Kars' love for animals. To the pet section! 

The pink haired boys joined the party! 

They all moved forward to the pet section. Moving in different walks, past the fabric and sewing area, to that isle with supplies for small animals, reptiles, and fish. To their avail, they saw the long purple hair and short blonde hair of Kars and Wamuu. The isle also had Jolyne and Jotaro, looking at fish. 

Wamuu and Kars looked at the group, holding a play pen for small animals. "Put it in." Kira sighed. They done just that. "Now, where's the last two?" 

"No! I refuse to wear female underwear!" The group heard none other than Pucci, shouting about panties. "I am clearly a man!" 

"Why is a man shouting about underwear, dad?" Jolyne tried to contain her laughter. 

Jotaro smirked. "Good grief." 

Oh no. The villains thought and rushed to the feminine area. Once they got there, Esidisi covered Santana's eyes so that he couldn't see the- um- interesting area. But everyone else there could see, clear as day, Dio grinning while holding a thong and bra and Enrico blushing with wide eyes. 

"It would look great on you..." Dio spoke in a sing-song voice. 

"No it would not! Besides, that kind of underwear is so sinful!" 

"Would you prefer cheeky?" Pucci's blush darkened at the words that spilled from the blonde's mouth. 

Kira groaned. "Shut it. If he doesn't want it, leave it be. We have to buy this stuff, so let's go to check out." 

"Alright~" Dio sang. Enrico moved towards the check out. "Let's get it anyway." He whispered. 

"Fine but if I wake up to screams of terror, I'm throwing you out." Yoshikage threatened. Dio shrugged and followed Enrico after putting the underwear in the cart. Esidisi removed his hand from over Santana's eyes, and walked with the group. 

- Time Skip brought to you By: I can see your panties... (SICK JOJO REFERENCE) -

As the cashier scanned items, Kira couldn't keep his eyes off of her hands. The lady tried handing the bags to him, but he was too focused on her lovely, dainty hands. "Sir?" She asked, snapping him back to the real world. "Your bags." 

"Oh, thanks." He felt awkward but took the bags and paid up. "Have a nice day, Adrian." He took back his card then speed-walked to the door. 

"Ugh, Kira wait up!" Dio nearly stood for to long until realizing Kira was nearly out the door. The cashier giggled and smiled. 

Kars and the other pillar men followed. Enrico was close behind. "Thank you so much!" Doppio blushed. 

"Here's our number." Diavolo held out a piece of paper with numbers written on it for the lady to take. Before she could take it, Doppio snatched it away, then ran away. "Doppio, don't try to leave me!" He shouted and ran to the exit. 

The cashier sighed. "Cute, aren't they?" A Burger King worker spoke to the cashier. 

"Yeah, Aimi. They sure are." She responded. 

"Miss? Do you know where this address is? I'm not from around here." 

- Time skip Brought to you by: An Unnamed Man asking a cashier for directions! -

Once they got home, they immediately looked at the games Yoshikage got. Monopoly, Uno, The Game Of Life, etc. But one definitely caught their eyes. A game called Villainous. But (to avoid copyright) they played Uno. 

"Ok. We are not allowed to use our stands to cheat. That's the only rule I have." Kira set up the game by handing out seven cards to those who were playing. Santana played video games in the attic, Esidisi watched Santana play those games, Wamuu and Doppio cheered on their leaders, as the other five played Uno. "And to make sure we aren't cheating, they will be watching us play." 

Dio already knew what he would do. "The World!" The World came out of the card and stopped time. "Will you help me? All you have to do is stop time when I give you a signal." 

The World stared, then shook his head. "I refuse." 

"What?! No! I have to win!" The World resumes time after Dio exclaims. 

Kira put the collar on the pink housecat and Killer Queen appears. "Let's win this Kira!" 

Diavolo rubbed the gem and King Crimson stands behind him. "We got this." Diavolo and King Crimson both say in unison. 

Pucci puts the disc in the portable DVD player and crawling out of the screen was Whitesnake. Once he gets out, he sighs. "It sure was cramped in there..." 

Everyone looked at the cards that were handed out and the game was decided. A green nine. Dio was first, and he played a green seven. "Easy as that." He said cockily. 

"So, we have to match colors?" Kars asked. 

"You can match colors, or numbers. If you don't have a cards that match the number or color, then you draw from the deck until you get something to play or until you reach four cards." Kira explained.

Kars nodded. "What does this card do?" He pulled out a plus four. Kira's eyes widened, knowing he was next. 

Dio burst out laughing. "If you play that card then the next person gets four cards and you change the color." He tried to stop the laughter by talking but he nearly coughed when doing so. "So, what are you going to do?" 

Kars hummed in thought, then he took a card. Before placing it down, or even where the others could see, he looked at Wamuu. "Of course, sir." Dio felt he knew what card he was going to place, so he smirked and crossed his arms. He would have the upper hand against the ever-so-lucky Yoshikage Kira. 

Kars soon placed the card after Wamuu gave the signal of approval. Or what I, the Narrator, like to call "The F*ck Yes Do it!" signal. Only be- oh sh*t. 

Dio, I'm sorry, but your prediction was incorrect. 

A blue seven. 

Dio looked at the card Kars placed, then at Kars, then back at the card, Kars, card- this could go on. 

But before you continue... 

Try saying "Kars Card" ten times fast. 

Ready? Cool. 

Dio saw what was going on. Kars was trying to get the turns reversed so he could play the plus four on Dio. But Kars didn't understand much about human culture, right? He only really understood animals. Dio thought to himself about how HE'S the ultimate being and how Kars shouldn't be called that. 

When he smirked, Kira knew what was going through the vampire's mind. I don't need to repeat. 

Kira's turn was a simple blue three. Killer Queen pouted. I know. I could've done worse. Kira thought to him and the Queen. 

"Oh! That one!" The younger pink haired boy pointed at a card and the older of the two placed it. The game continued and rage ensued until a winner was decided. The winner was Kira. Who wouldn't have guessed that the ever-so-lucky Yoshikage Kira would win? 

[zarcake-writes]

Maria

This is a kind of sad story. It features a female spirit that haunts part of a freeway and the human woman she falls in love with. 

Warnings: mention of death, attempted kidnapping, car crash, a subtle reference to homophobia

There’s a stretch of freeway near my house that is haunted. I think the spirit is a banshee. If she is a banshee, I’m not sure how she got here. Maybe she followed someone from Ireland and is now stuck on a new continent, lost and far from home. Is that even possible?  

Another possibility is that she’s La Llorona, crying for the children she killed, wailing and begging for them to come back. This would make more sense since Mexico is closer than Ireland. But there's no riverbed near the freeway. Well, at least none that I’m aware of.

If I’m being honest, both of these options’ kind of freak me out. Banshees always seemed so far away, but the idea of one literally being down the road from me is incredibly unsettling. And I grew up on stories of La Llorona. She’s not something I want to think about.

In the mornings when I drive to school, I hear her sometimes. The only way to drown out her wails is to turn up the radio. This repeats on my way home in the evenings. She appears to be more active at night or early mornings.

The first time I feel her presence, it terrifies me. I’m driving down when I feel something in the car with me. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Cold breath lands on the back of my neck, sending shivers down my spine. I grip my steering wheel until my knuckles are white. I don't dare look in any of my mirrors, I'm too scared.

While her presence doesn’t feel evil, I’m hit with a wave of depression and pain. The sudden change in emotions leaves me gasping for air and gripping my steering wheel for life. By the time I get off the freeway, I’m in tears. I’m sobbing so hard I’m out of breath and hiccupping. While her presence vanishes when I get off the freeway, these feelings linger for the rest of the day. The pain she feels, I can’t forget it. I spend the rest of the night beneath my blankets crying and clinging to a stuffed animal.

Everyone knows about her; the spirit that haunts a section of the 405 freeway. Many people get off before they come to her stretch of the freeway. I guess they prefer taking side streets and falling behind schedule rather than risk encountering the spirit. Others just speed up and hope they don’t encounter her.

Some people refuse to talk about her, and if they hear someone mentioning the strange wailing, they’ll look away. Most of the time, people play dumb and claim they heard nothing. Others say it’s just the wind or the car making funny sounds. But everyone has that same unsettled look in their eyes.

Despite the reluctance to speak openly about her, there are many rumors about the spirit. Some claim the wailing woman was killed on the freeway in a bad accident. Others say she’s a murder victim whose body was abandoned on the side of the freeway in a suitcase. They always embellish and say no one discovered the body for several weeks. These people are always overly descriptive when it comes to what her body supposedly looked like when it was found.

While everyone seems to have heard her, only a few people claim to have seen her. One lady I met, an elderly woman, said the spirit is evil and will chase you. She claims it happened to her, but I doubt the validity of her story. A cop once told me in a bar that he saw a woman walking down the side of the freeway one night. He pulled over and approached her, thinking she was hurt. He said she turned to him and just vanished. He was a bit buzzed, so I wonder how truthful his story is.

It never crossed my mind to wonder if she was good or evil. I knew she was sad and in pain, but I assumed she was just a remnant of something terrible that happened. Just an echo of some terrible crime that happened long ago.

I discover the type of spirit she is one night.

Finals are fast approaching, so my nights have been spent mostly in my university’s library studying and working on essays. While the campus is usually very safe, tonight was the exception. I was being followed and I didn’t notice it until I got on the freeway.

The car behind me turns on their brights and they speed up. They are so close to my rear bumper, and the reflection of their brights in my rearview mirror is nearly blinding. When they start honking behind me, I switch lanes and hope they speed past me.

I can feel my heart sink and stomach twist when they change lanes with me. The front of their car bumps my rear bumper, jolting my car slightly. In a panic, I speed up in an attempt to put some distance between us. But they stay on me.

I reach for my phone and dial 911. As I frantically speak to the operator, telling them where I am and what’s happening, making sure to say it’s just our two cars on the freeway, the car chasing me slams on their breaks. I watch in my rearview mirror as they swerve all over the road. I gasp when their car goes off the side and crashes nose-first into the ditch on the right side of the freeway.

I pull over and tell the operator what happened. A few minutes later, the emergency vehicles arrive. A cop takes me to the side and starts speaking with me. In the distance, I see my pursuers being taken from the car and put on stretchers. The ambulances take them away. I go home in a daze, not fully understanding what happened.

It isn’t until a week or so later that I hear from the cop in charge of the case. He tells me I got lucky because those men have kidnapped women before. I was to be their next victim. Them chasing me and trying to hit my car was a game to them. I feel sick. But it isn’t until he’s leaving that he says something that confuses me.

“Good thing you have a friend on the other side,” he said.

“What?”

He looks at me, a sheepish look on his face. “Look, everyone knows the rumors about that stretch of the freeway. And those men said they lost control because they saw… her.”

“Her?”

“Yeah, you know, her.”

“And you believe them?”

“I don’t know. But they said she appeared in the back of their car, screaming.”

Ever since that day, I wonder more about the spirit. There are many videos on the internet of supposed ghost hunters and teenagers parking on the side of the freeway attempting to speak with her. Some used Ouija boards, while others just shouted at her. Nothing ever seemed to happen, just a bunch of kids scaring themselves.

I wonder if she did die on that part of the freeway, so I started doing research. However, I could find nothing. Yes, there have been many accidents and deaths on that freeway, but no women died on that stretch. And the rumor that a body was left undiscovered in a suitcase seemed just like that, a rumor.

This wailing spirit wouldn’t leave my mind. I want, no, need to know who she was, what she is, and why she helped me. My curiosity got the best of me, so one night, I go to see if I can find her.

It’s the weekend when I make my way to her stretch of the freeway. I pull off to the side of the road, right where the men who were chasing me crashed. Leaving my hazards on, I get out of the car.

A few cars drive past me, going no less than 80mph. Other than that, the night is quiet. The bright white lights on the freeway illuminate the road. Along the side of the freeway I’m on, there is nothing but a large, dark empty field. It’s unsettling how dark and empty it is. On the other side of the freeway are buildings and some homes.

The night is cool, but standing on the side of the freeway I’m nearly shivering. The wind from the passing cars hit me hard, forcing me to stand on the side of my car facing the large empty field. I pull my sweater tighter around my body, not really knowing what I’m doing here.

A few more cars pass by me, then everything gets quiet. No cars are in sight. The emptiness and silence are strange, it almost feels wrong. I clear my throat before I speak.

“I-I don’t know if it was you but thank you. Some bad men were following me that night and, they said you appeared in their car, causing them to crash. Whether you did it on purpose or not, I don’t know. But either way, I just want to say thank you.”

As soon as I’m done talking, I feel something behind me. The hairs on the back on my neck stand on end and a familiar chill runs down my spine. Turning around, I see her. The 405 Spirit.

She’s short, with long, wavy black hair. She’s wearing a long-sleeved white dress from a period and location I can’t place. Her skin is a pale gray and her dark eyes are rimmed with red like she’s been crying. The first thing that comes to my mind when I see her is La Llorona, next I think banshee.

“Holy shit, you’re real,” I gasped.

Her head tilts, but her face is emotionless. “Did you think I was not?” Her voice is low and broken.

“I don’t know. I’ve heard you, sensed you even, but I’ve never seen you. And that night, I didn’t hear or feel you.”

“I was there. They were going to hurt you.”

“I know, the cops told me.”

She nods and says nothing. She looks away from me, towards the large empty field. I can see how sad she looks, so sad and broken.

“Who are you? Why are you here?”

“I’m stuck.”

“Are you La Llorona?”

She thinks for a moment then shakes her head. “No.”

“A banshee?”

“No.”

I nearly sighed in relief. “Then, what are you?”

“I’m a spirit, I think. I don’t know.” She turns back to me and blinks slowly. “You should go, it’s getting late.”

After that first encounter, I drive to that stretch of road a few times a week just to speak with her. Some nights she appears, barely talking and always so sad. Other nights, I never see her. But regardless of her being there or not, I always speak.

These visits last all summer. For a long time, I wasn’t sure if she liked when I would show up or if she was bothered. I figured if she wanted me gone, then she would ignore me or tell me to leave.

The nights I see her; I do most of the talking. I tell her about what I’m studying, my hopes, and dreams. I mention my family and friends, tell her about my pets. I even talk about that new baking show I’ve been hooked on. She always listens politely to my ramblings, nodding her head and occasionally asking questions.

It is towards the end of summer that I notice a change in her. Her physical features are still the same, grayish skin and a blank face, but her eyes aren’t so red and she doesn’t seem so sad. By then, she appears most nights and is talking more and asking me questions. The more I talk to her and see her, the livelier she becomes.

When the fall semester arrives, she appears in my car and accompanies me to the offramp I take to school. She starts out sitting in my backseat, sometimes asking questions, but usually silent. Eventually, she begins to sit in my passenger seat. She’s always a comforting presence in my car.

She likes music, particularly Hozier and Adele. If any other artist is playing, she changes the station. I was curious about her past, so I tried playing old Spanish songs, but she had no reaction. The same thing happened with a playlist of Irish songs I found. She would change them with no reaction or comment.

The first time she touches me, we are stuck in traffic. I was heading home after a long day, tired and hungry. She’s sitting beside me in the passenger seat, slightly bobbing her head to the song. I was starting to doze off when a cool hand touches my arm. I jump and open my eyes.

Her face is as blank as usual, but something in her eyes makes my chest warm. “Don’t fall asleep.”

“Right.” I wipe my face and force myself to stay awake.

The next time she touches me is during one of my late-night visits to her stretch of road. We’re sitting in my car, simply enjoying each other’s company. I was dozing off again, and she must have thought I was fully asleep. Her cool hand touches my cheek, causing goosebumps along my skin.

I open my eyes and turn to look at her. Her hand is still on my cheek and her face is inches away from mine. The usual sadness in her eyes is gone, she looks scared and hopeful. Slowly, she leans forward and presses her lips to mine. I immediately kiss her back.

Her lips are cold and she tastes faintly of honey and wildflowers. I reach for her, surprised to find her body is solid. The more we kiss, the warmer I get, even she’s feeling warmer than usual. As the kiss deepens; my lower stomach twists and tingles. When we pull away, I’m breathless and she looks winded. She’s beautiful, with slightly swollen lips and a hazy look in her eyes.

I slide my seat back and motion for her to climb onto my lap. She does slowly, bunching her dress around her waist. Her hands rest on my shoulders and I place my hands on her waist. She’s so cool against my body that I can’t help but shiver. Her eyes soften as she leans down to kiss me; she seems almost hesitant.

As the kiss deepens, our hands are all over each other. We’re mapping each other’s bodies over our clothes, grabbing and squeezing. She’s squeezing my breasts, twisting and pulling my nipples through my shirt. I run my hands along her back, tugging at the fabric. She pulls my hair at the roots, grinning at my gasps and whimpers.

When my hands come to the swell of her ass, she groans. I squeeze, enjoying her noises and the thickness of her ass. When she pulls away, her face has more color. Her cheeks darken and her lips are swollen. Her dark eyes are needy and wet. She looks torn, scared and excited, by what we are doing.

“Please, don’t cry,” I whispered.

“I’m so scared,” she confessed.

“Why?”

“I’ve been alone for so long. I don’t remember my name or who I was, and this,” she gestures between us, “Scares me.”

“We can take this slow, whatever this is. We don’t need to give it a name. I like you,” I confessed.

She frowns. “I’m not even alive, how can you like me?”

“I don’t know, I just do.”

She sniffs and wipes her face, then climbs off my lap and sits in the passenger seat. “You should go home.”

The monotone sound of her voice scares me. I blurt out my next words without thinking. “Would you want to come home with me?”

She shrugs and refuses to look at me. “I don’t know.”

I try to ignore the pain in my chest and nod my head. “Ok. You can always come home with me, I told you how I feel.”

She nods then disappears. I sit alone for a while, wiping the tears from my eyes. With a heavy heart, I go home.

I don’t see her for a few weeks. She doesn’t appear in my car when I’m driving to school, I don’t hear her wails anymore. At night, I go to her stretch of the road and wait. Sometimes I talk to her like she’s there, other times I just sit there in silence. She never shows up.

While I’m used to being alone, I’ve never felt this lonely. My heart aches and it feels like there’s a gaping hole in my chest. I never realized how important she in my life. I don’t know how it even happened, but it did. And my heart hurts because she’s gone.

At night, I lay in my bed and remember the way she tasted and felt in my lap. My lips and stomach tingle at the memory. It’s during these nights, as I remember what we did, I blame myself. I should have let the soft kiss be only that, a soft hesitant kiss. Never should have motioned for her to straddle me. Never should have kissed or touched her so passionately. Never should have offered for her to come home with me.

The next time I see her, it’s a surprise. It’s a boring Saturday and I’m spending it at home alone. I’m watching tv in my room, some cooking show is playing, but I’m not watching it. I start to doze off, the show is just noise, and my body relaxes. Just before I’m fully asleep, I feel something in the room.

The hairs on my arms stand on end, and my heart begins to pound. For a moment, I can only hear the tv and blood rushing in my ears. There are no other noises in the room, and I begin to think I imagined something. That is until the bed dips and something lays beside me.

I jump and turn, expecting an intruder or some creep who broke into my house. Instead, it’s her. She’s here, laying on my bed. She looks the same. Long, dark wavy hair pools around her head like a halo. Her dark eyes are rimmed with red and filled with tears. That same sad look on her beautiful face.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

I don’t know if I should be angry or happy to see her. I sniff and wipe my eyes. “What happened?”

“I… started remembering my past. My name and how I died.”

That took me by surprise. Her lost memory has never been addressed between us, but I’ve always wondered who she was.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She nods. “My name is Maria. I was killed for loving a woman.”

“What?”

She gives me a sad look. “I loved a woman once; she was sent away because of our affair. I was killed by men who wanted to… to ‘fix me.’”

That revelation is like a punch in my gut. She… she was killed for loving a woman. The implications of the pain she suffered during her last moments, it breaks my heart. Tears stream down my face, tears of anguish and rage. I’m so angry, angry at the world that she lived in. I’m so angry about what those men did to her.

I understand now why she ran and the fear she had about us. I understand why she saved me all those months ago.

“Maria, I’m so sorry.”

She gives me a teary-eyed smile. “There’s no need for you to be. The world has never been kind to women, and it will probably never be.”

“But you… oh god, Maria.” I’m sobbing fully now.

She cups my face and wipes away my tears. I pull her to me and hold her tight.

“That’s why you saved me that night, from those men chasing me.”

Maria nods. “When we kissed that night, I started to remember the woman I once loved. I felt… guilty. And I was afraid.”

I nod. “I understand. But what brought you back to me?”

“I just missed you. I’m so sorry.” She pouts and wipes the tears from her face.

I scoot closer to her, taking her cool hands in mine. “It’s ok. Thank you for explaining to me what happened. I missed you too.”

“Can… can I still stay with you?”

“Yes. If you ever need time away, please tell me. Don’t just vanish on me.”

She smiles and nods. “Ok.”

The rest of the night we spend in bed together. The tv is still on as background noise. But my attention is on the beautiful, sad spirit in bed with me.

We kiss each other’s tears away that night. We touch each other, rubbing and squeezing until we’re both out of breath. Her mouth is on mine, my hands in her hair. We only stop when I’m oversensitive and exhausted. I fall asleep in her cool embrace, the feeling of her fingers running along my back is the last thing I feel. 

[7deadlycinderellas]

If the summer of our lives could just come again, ch11

AO3 link

 On the Kingsroad

Just as she feared, Sansa is black and blue at the end of each day’s riding. They’re not even going very fast, but every time she climbs out of the saddle she feels like it’s become part of her.

When they stop to eat in the evening, Ned mentions,

“I’m surprised you chose to ride.”

“I didn’t last time,” Sansa admits, “And I feel like I missed out, like there’s so much of Westeros I haven’t really seen. Every other time we’ve traveled, it’s been under duress, so I couldn’t appreciate it.”

Traveling at peace, she’s grown to appreciate the landscape. Everything is green, at its peak of growth, not yet touched by the winds of autumn, though they are on the cusp of it.

There’s a special sort of pain that comes to linger in Sansa’s gut caused by traveling alone with her father.

Once, when watching him speak to some of the men, she feels a sob crawl it’s way out of her throat.

When Ned looks at her, alarmed, her words spill out.

“The last thing I said to you before...you died thinking I hated you.”

Ned freezes, and then hugs her. He tries to assure her,

“There comes a point where as a parent, you accept that your children won’t stay little and perfectly adoring of you forever. I know you don’t hate me, and whatever it was over I’m sure I wouldn’t have held it against you.”

Sansa sniffs.

“Gods, I must have been an awful child to deal with.”

Ned laughs.

“You had your moments, all of you did. Some days we would have you swooning, Robb grandstanding, Jon sulking in the corner, Arya yelling and running away from the septa and Bran climbing something he shouldn’t all in one day. Rickon could do all of those in a single day himself, save maybe the swooning.”

When they pass through the Neck, it begins to rain lightly. The chill it brings puts Sansa’s mind back into her worst place. When they’re huddled under the covers of the tents one night, Sansa finally asks.

“The Boltons are really gone?”

Ned looks at her gently. None of them had been forthcoming about how Sansa, in particular, seemed so threatened by the Boltons. And after what he had seen at the Dreadfort, he feels he really doesn’t need to know.

“I swung the sword myself.”

Sansa lets out a breath, and leans forward to hug her knees.

“You should make sure to keep an eye on Ice,” she says, changing the subject rapidly, “Valyrian steel works on white walkers as well.”

“Not too many of those left in Westeros,” Ned comments. Sansa doesn’t tell him what became of it after his death.

“The recipe for making more was found,” Sansa admits, “and Gendry knows how to do it, but it requires dragon’s fire.”

Dragons. It should shock Ned more than it does.  

He stares off into the woods a lot that night. Dragons on his mind.

When they finally reach King’s Landing, the smell assaults them both like a slap. Sansa steels herself, and walks to her place with dignity.

The keep is as it was, huge and full of historical lore, but also intimidating and sitting atop a city crawling with unrest.

The king too, is as he was. Fat, drunk and thoughtless. Thankfully he doesn’t give Sansa much notice. She looks out of the corner of her eye at him on occasion, seeing the resemblance to her good brother in what seems a near mockery. Sansa watches as he drinks and hunts his way throughout his days, laying all of his work on her Father and the council. Why did he even want to be king at all? Sansa thought, he fought a whole war, so many people died for it. What did any of this mean to him?

Cersei and Joffrey are much as they were too. Joffrey doesn’t pay her any mind, and Cersei only takes a moment to hold her chin in her fingers, nails sharpened to a point, and ask her if she had reconsidered the idea of marrying her eldest son.

“Oh, no, “ Sansa assures her, “Joffrey is a prince, and I belong in the north. I simply did not wish my father to have to make this journey alone. “

After that, Sansa tries hard to steer clear of her. If she can escape the queen’s notice, it will be easier to escape her wrath. It’s much easier than cutting and running every time she spies Lord Baelish on the premises. She feels her stomach tighten every time, and Lady follows her when she walks the halls alone.

Tommen and Myrcella both have changed some in the last not quite a year since she’s seen them, having grown taller and more into themselves. Sansa hadn’t paid Myrcella much attention before, being so blinded by the attentions of her older brother, but she now finds the girl a bright-eyed and willing companion.

“None of the servants have daughters my age, and Mother likely wouldn’t let me play with them anyway. Joffrey won’t let me join him and Tommen in anything they get up to either.”

Sansa looks at Myrcella, the girl having gotten close to hitting a growth spurt and already becoming lovely. Sansa reaches in her mind for any memory she has of what became of her once she’d been sent away to Dorne. All she remembers is that it hadn’t ended well.

But for now, she thinks the both of them could use a friend.’

“Do you know how to play cyvasse?” Sansa asks, recalling one of Gendry’s suggestions of past times.  

Myrcella’s eyes light up.

“My uncle Tyrion has been teaching me, I’m sure he could teach you too!”

It’s strange to admit that Sansa has found herself avoiding Tyrion too. He’s back to the man she first met, and while she isn’t repulsed by him like she had been, she has to admit her feelings are mixed.

He doesn’t mention anything about what she told him before he left Winterfell, or of the letter, but she can feel him watching her, like he wants to ask but can’t find the words. She knows the feeling.

Myrcella convinces him one day after breakfast. They sit at a table in one of the gardens, over the board. After describing the movements of each of the pieces, Tyrion sits back to watch the two of them.

“Remember, the goal for all the pieces is to protect the king from being killed.”

Sansa picks up one piece, the dragon, examining it. The set they’re using is made of up of ivory and jade, lovely craftsmanship.

“Strange how the whole game is about protecting the king,” she comments, “But he’s not even the most powerful piece on the board.”

There’s so much reality to her comment, she thinks as Myrcella nods, and they begin to play.

She watches the board, and their hands moving the pieces around the board, fighting for the death of an imaginary monarch. What did all of that even mean to them?

She sighs, play stupid games, she thinks, win stupid prizes.

 At Winterfell

Gendry has been getting into the rhythm of the days at Winterfell. He eats in the Great Hall with all the others, then he works. It’s usually in the afternoon, after the bulk of the rest of the work is done, when him, and usually Meera, and sometimes one or two of the others, will continue on the stockpile of dragonglass weapons.

The other girl didn’t pay him too much attention. She would chatter sometimes, idly, while they were working, but she seemed to focus on her work. The chip and whittle method she uses is time consuming, but her work always comes out well.

One day, she surprises him by asking if he could make her some metal fish hooks.

“I asked Arya if she wanted to go fishing with me in the Wolfwood in a few days,” she explains.

It is odd, Gendry thinks, seeing them together. The morning that they choose to leave, Arya asks him if he wants to come with them.

“That’s alright,” he says, never having really been a fan of nature. There’s something else too.

“It’s nice seeing you with friends. Not sure if you ever had those, aside from us. And let’s be honest, Hot Pie wasn’t so much a friend as he was dead weight that occasionally produced delicious food.”

Arya leaves him off with just a hug, and he adds,

“Be careful out there though.”

Meera had pulled down the pair of ash branches the day before and whittled them down. They were strapped to her back when she unsteadily joined Arya on their horse and left Winterfell through the hunter’s gate.

Arya feels Meera shifting uncomfortably in front of her.

“Still not quite steady?” she asks.

Meera shakes her head, tight lipped.

“I’m used to stepping carefully, for marshes and quicksand and unstable ground. It feels like I’m not quite in control up here.”

Arya pats the dappled gelding on the rump.

“You will eventually get used to it. Horses aren’t the smartest of beasts, but they’re very predictable.”

It’s a short ride though, the stream isn’t far from the keep. It’s fairly deep, but not too wide. As children, the Starks used to dare each other to try and jump over it. Only Robb was ever brave enough to try, and he got soaked for his bravery.

“What’s out right now?” Arya asks her, while she’s digging in the bank for worms for bait.

“Trout mostly.”

When they bait their lines, and throw them out, Arya sits back against the tree they’ve parked by.

“Did you really grow up doing this all the time?”

Meera nods.

“If you were trying to get a bunch at once, to salt or something, it was usually easier to cast a net. Rod fishing was mostly for relaxing on nicer days, and bringing back something to fry just for dinner that day.”

Arya sits back and looks at the sky. It is a nice day, clear and sunny if awfully cold. The leaves on the trees are starting to turn towards golden towards autumn.

“I wish I could have done that,” Arya muses, “Growing up here, everything I wanted to do I was told wasn’t for ladies. If my mother had had her way I would have never even gone outside.”

“There were perks,” Meera agrees, “It’s very different in the Neck, a lot more goes into ensuring our day-to-day survival. There were girls like you’re sister there too, girls who hated hunting and swimming and the like. Girls who probably thought I was insane to still do those things even though I was highborn and likely could have elected to never.”

That is something Arya has come to understand; that there are girls like her everywhere, and girls like Sansa everywhere. She does kind of wish she’d known Meera the first time around, when she was younger. It might have helped to know there were other girls like her at all, that she wasn’t some kind of freak.

They’ve caught three trout that Meera has gutted and strung up when the sun is high in the sky.

“I’m going to go down stream to bury the guts,” she stands and tells Arya, taking the bucket to dump.

When she’s done and goes to return, she feels the hairs on her arms stand up. She’s not sure why, but when she approaches, she, quietly as possible, climbs a nearby tree to get a look.

There’s three of them, she realizes, two men and a woman, dressed in shabby skins and furs. One of them has a knife on Arya, who through some miracle, just looks bored.

Meera clutches the knife she’d used to gut the fish in one hand. She can’t get the drop on three of them, she knows that. She loosens the grip, and reaches out, finding a cluster of acorns, pulling them loose and throwing them across the clearing.

The distraction works, when the man with the knife nods to the woman to check it out, Arya reaches out to grab the knife.

It’s a quick move, and from the yell the man lets out, Meera guesses Arya must have broken at least one of his fingers to get it. She flails out and slashes at him violently, cutting his face deeply before the other man grabs her from behind.

Meera eyes the end of the branch she’s on. It’s just a bit too far, if she could just get a little bit closer, she might be able to jump on top of one of them…

It’s not an issue. Less than five seconds after the other man grabs Arya, there’s a rustling and a fierce howl before the wolf bursts into the clearing and leaps atop the man holding Arya back, and takes a deep bite out of the side of his face.

Meera jumps down carefully into the fray, while she watches Arya, suddenly free, tackle the man she had slashed, who is still clutching his face. In one swift movement, she slashes his throat with his own knife.

Arya is breathing heavily, and when Meera hits the ground and pulls her own knife. There’s still the woman to deal with.

Though with the wolf, it’s muzzle covered in blood, standing beside the two corpses, she’s frozen, seemingly with no desire to try and fight it.

The woman drops her knife, and Meera goes to grab it. She gets a good look at her then, and stops short.

“Osha?”

If Osha is at all disturbed by her calling her by name, it doesn’t show.

“Do what you will with me,” she says, “Just don’t let that thing kill me.”

Meera looks over at Arya, who’s got her hands on both sides of the wolf’s snout, and has her forehead pressed against its own.

“That thing has a name,” Arya insists, “And it’s Nymeria.”

Nymeria was huge, Meera thought, bigger even than Summer had been full grown. She’d heard tell that Arya’s wolf was wilder than others, but it was apparently no less loyal.

“What do we do with her?” she asks Arya, nodding in Osha’s direction.

Arya points to the where they’d tied the horse.

“I have rope in the pack. Tie her hands and we’ll bring her back to Winterfell.”

Meera does what she says, pulling Osha’s hands, which are still raised in surrender, to tie them behind her.

Arya has paused, and is looking at the two corpses.

“We’ll have to come back and burn them,” she comments, taking out her knife again, “but first…”

She takes the knife to the one who’s face she slashed. Meera watches in horror as Arya cuts the man’s face from his skull in one piece.

Osha curses loudly, and starts muttering about witches. Meera understands.

“What on earth are you-”

Not even looking up, Arya quietly asks,

“Have you ever heard of the Faceless men?”

Meera’s stomach goes cold. There had been muttering about how Arya had spent her years missing before, but...

“You’re not-”

Arya laughs.

“Not officially, but they did teach me a thing or two. A wildling face could prove very useful, even if it’s all cut and scarred.“

Once she’s done, she takes the rope Meera’s holding and pulls Osha back towards the horse.

“You’ll walk.”

 At the Wall

It had been, truly, for Jon to keep up his training at the Wall under the knowledge that his siblings had dropped upon him. The most effective route, he had discovered, was simply to try and forget he had learned any of it at all.

Sometimes this was harder than other times.

It’s hard enough when he’s getting mocked by the others, for his birth (which he now wants to throw back in their faces) or the burgeoning friendship he’s developed with Sam.

The worst is whenever he overhears some of the senior night’s watchmen speak of the intelligence they’ve gathered from over the wall. The wildling villages being abandoned, the burning of some keep that Jon has never heard of, the movements of a group of wildlings that they cannot assign a motive to. These are when the words of his siblings echo in his head.

He wishes uncle Benjen had stayed at Castle Black, just so he could see a familiar face.

But then they find the bodies of the other two rangers, and the corpses rise, and attack Lord Commander Mormont, just like the younger Stark’s had said they would.

Jon, in the moment, does not think. His training and instinct take over. When Mormont presents him with the sword, Longclaw, afterwards, he finds that he tries not to accept it.

When the older man pushes it on him anyway, he wonders about the certainty of what else they had told him.

And so, one night, he seeks out Maester Aemon.

After the older man offers him a chair, Jon cuts to the chase.

“You never talk about yourself, where did you grow up? And why the Night’s Watch?”

Aemon chuckles, and comments,

“First real brush with danger making you question your life choices? Well, if there’s nothing else that could…”

The old man tells him of his youth, growing up in King’s Landing.

“I knew wealth, and women. I could have even been king…”

Jon’s stomach seizes.

“You- your…” his mind reaches out into his history lessons, guessing at the man’s age. “You’re Aemon Targaryan.”

The old man chuckles. The rest of the words he tells Jon are a mess. Jon doesn’t even have the presence of mind to ask him about the Others like he had intended.

When he wanders back to the barracks, he realizes, that if the old Maester is in fact who he told him, then Jon is his blood family, who may be the only family the old man knows he has left.

 Over the Wall

Henneh was the one they had sent out to blend in. She hadn’t bled yet, and would have been the old man’s next wife. Young enough to not be considered a viable threat.

Gilly clutches the baby and waits for her to return. She finally does at sunset.

“Is it true?” they ask her when she does.

Henneh nods.

“It’s true, the rumors. Mance Rayder is seeking the Horn of Winter, he wants to use it to bargain with the crows, to threaten to bring down the whole wall.”

“We can’t allow that,” a raspy voice interrupts. The woman who spoke it was old, though no larger than Henneh. Her skin was still gray and the leaves growing from her head were beginning to droop. She had told them that her name was Rowan, and she was the last remaining of the Children of the Forest. She had come to them one night, whispering the stories of the deaths of the rest of her people, and how she was trying to put into motion a plan that might save the rest of the realm.

“My magic can keep the illusion on the cave as long as we need, it’s small magic. But if the Wall comes down our plans with shatter. “

“Do you even have enough magic left for the plan?”

Rowan smiles.

“Most of its long gone. Opening the rift back here took a lot out of me, but it was necessary. Very little magic is involved in the plan we made, but we will need help. We must get to Castle Black before Mance Rayder, and before he can even think to bring down the wall.”

All of the women nod.

Before they leave that night, Gilly rocks her baby to sleep, wondering what they will call this little group after the fact.

[sunstriderling]

5, 15, 24, 35, 58 ♥ :>

5. Who had the biggest positive impact on you?I. Could go a lot of ways with this - I could say my mom, who’s been the most patient and caring person in my life, or my friends, who’ve taught me everything in life, or the various men I’ve looked up to and grown comfortable with over the years who’ve taught me about being a man the way I want to be rather than the way others expect when my dad wasn’t there to do the job. Most recently, my gaming group for sure - they’ve been there with me through what has been the hardest time in my life so far, and they’ve each taught me something new about being a friend, being a member of a team, and they’ve helped me grow as a person, even though I’m still very much a work in progress and... don’t really know what the fuck I’m supposed to be doing.

15. Describe your ideal world.Abolish greed.

24. What’s the bravest you’ve ever felt?I don’t feel brave often. I don’t - really remember a single occasion where I’ve felt brave, only a lot of times when I’ve felt incredibly scared but endured that and went through it. I would say, overall, the bravest period in my life was around six years ago; what I went through then took an insane amount of courage, and it was something the majority of people will never have to deal with, so I had neither a guide or a comfort in it. I had to do it alone, blindly trusting my own gut where nobody else could help me, and I think that... would probably do it.

Also, yo, my first and only tattoo was a full sleeve. While I was getting set up for the first linework on it, another tattooist in the shop walked in and looked at it and asked about my other tattoos and when I said I had none he chuckled to himself and went “good luck” and later, like multiple sessions later, that same guy was talking with my tattooist while he was working on me about how a lot of people come in for large projects like that and just drop off the face of the earth a while later, and also how not that many guys would be in for staying on the table for six hours a go like I was doing. Apparently most men are cowards when it comes to ink, lmao. I was also on medication at the time which made the ink literally just bleed out of my skin so that I had to basically sit through the same sessions multiple times for it to stick (I counted that overall, it took around 42 hours to complete the tattoo), some of which were... not so pleasant.

35. What are you proudest of?Making it to 26. I should be dead by now, but turns out, I’m hard to kill.

58. Have you ever experienced something supernatural or unexplainable?The scariest fucking thing happened to me when I was a kid, around, I’d say 8 years old - we were playing a board game with my friend in my living room, the time was around half past two in the afternoon and my mom was still working so nobody else was home, when the fucking bookcase slammed open and there was this loud laughter that scared both me and my friend out of the house in the middle of the winter in our indoors clothing; we stood around without shoes on in the ankle deep snow until mom came back at four pm. I used to get a lot of shit like this as a kid, leading to me adopting a bunch of animals around the ages from 10 to 13 just to learn to ignore the weird ass shit that was going on in this house - there were often children’s running footsteps around 4am in my next door neighbour’s house, but she was old and all her children were adults and didn’t have kids, or footsteps passing doors, the sensation of presence nearby with chills when nobody was walking by, music distorting while I was playing my CDs that didn’t result from a broken player, etc. Literally the single biggest reason I have a bunch of animals to date is simply that I’d go crazy living alone in this place. I believe, to the extent that I believe, that if you choose not to sensitize yourself to the things that happen around you they’ll mostly ignore you in turn or they can’t get to you the way they can if you allow yourself to connect to them, so there’s that. So far, it’s worked.

Some nights, though, I still do get those feelings and even though my bedroom is offlimits to my furbags, I do recruit my dog to sleep next to me pretty often.

Overshare asks?

[attina-the-responsible]

JEFF Triton -- Character Sheet

Archetype — The Ruler Birthday — April 25, 1967 Zodiac Sign — Taurus MBTI — ISTJ Enneagram — 6; the Loyalist Temperament — Melancholy Hogwarts House — Huffleclaw (with a Slyth model) Moral Alignment — Lawful Good Primary Vice — Pride Primary Virtue — Diligence Element — Earth

Overview:

Mother — JODY Triton (nee Poole) Father — Cyrus Triton Mother’s Occupation — homemaker? Father’s Occupation — mer-government? Family Finances — uh all mermaids are rich are mermaids a communist dictatorshiP? Birth Order — Oldest Brothers —  None Sisters — JEAN, JUNE, JULY, JANE, JILL, JADE Other Close Family — Octopian, Trent -- brothers in law; Jewel, Jasmine, Jetta, Jem, Jennite, Jasperine, Julia -- nieces; Jordan -- nephew; Athena’s family. Best Friend — Sebastian and Scuttle Other Friends — Mufasa, The Prince ??, Benjamin Enemies — uh humans? lmao Pets — nah fam. Home Life During Childhood — More introverted but still friendly, didn’t get in much trouble (Athena was the #rebel). Kind of a nerd, his sisters’ deaths made him stoic. He loved them a lot and was kind of the peacemaker of them. Liked to explore, spent time collecting things/cleaning. Loved the environment.   Town or City Name(s) — Boscombe Reef off the coast of Bournemouth; Swynlake, England What Did His or Her Bedroom Look Like — it was under the ocean?? do they live in caves?? do they have infrastructure? do mermaids sleep in dens do they have "blankets" (makes no sense) and mirrors and toys??? BUT UH pretty clean and neat?? like if he did have toys and, sure, he had toys, they were always put away. Any Sports or Clubs — mer-debate, mer-student council, stuff like that Favorite Toy or Game — mer-chess, mer-monopoly (and the regular versions) Schooling — fish school? HAHA get it? puns. Favorite Subject — history but also really liked science and finds it v applicable to his job Popular or Loner — was very friendly and had friends, but they were mostly “school” friends. liked to be rather solitary, but lots of people liked him. Important Experiences or Events — his sisters’ deaths, moving to land, marrying/meeting athena, athena’s death, his daughters’ births Nationality — er English? I guess? Culture — Merculture Religion and beliefs — Merreligion  

Physical Appearance:

Face Claim —  Sean Bean Complexion — had acne and has scars, but otherwise dark, tan, leathery skin and kinda red sometimes Hair Colour — Copper-y brown/red but going grey Eye Colour — Blue Height — 5’10 Build — Stocky and powerful Tattoos — a whale across his chest, multiple smaller ones--probably all the girls’ birthdays somewhere listed under a fancy letter “A” Piercings — had a nip piercing, ear piercings -- still wears ear piercings when dressing up Common Hairstyle — on the longer side but nicely groomed--def going grey but still pretty brown/red, beard is super nicely groomed it is his best feature ofc (alana makes him special beard cream) Clothing Style — DAD™ wears cargo pants, sandals and socks, CROCS, hawaiian shirts, etc Mannerisms — strokes beard when thinking, talks with hands, frowns when deep in thought Usual Expression — resting bitch face, but he’s actually so soft

Health:

Overall (do they get sick easily)? — decent, probably gets colds every now and then but overall pretty robust health-wise Physical Ailments — n/a Neurological Conditions — depression, PTSD, anxiety Allergies —  seasonal allergies Grooming Habits — rather good, sometimes falls to the wayside bc depression, but mermaids pride themselves on their appearance, esp concerning their hair Sleeping Habits — insomnia which gets worse the more worried he is. Goes and sits in his office a lot at night. Doesn’t sleep very well at all. It makes him tired. Probably falls asleep watching TV in the evenings Eating Habits — eh, he can forget to eat if he’s busy and is a snack addict. But he always has dinner with the girls when he is home.   Exercise Habits —  not suppppppper active, but he swims which is really good for you, isn’t unhealthy but isnt like JACKED Emotional Stability — about a 7. He’s pretty stable unless the girls are giving him hell or something happens in Swynlake that throws off the sense of safety. Body Temperature — Normalish Sociability — 4-5, pretty average. He has been masquerading as a human for al ong time but sometimes he makes little mistakes and says weird things. Doesn’t really seek out conversation but can hold one very well. Not shy, just quiet. Addictions — uhh coffee probably Drug Use — nah Alcohol Use —  occasionally, likes a good craft beer; RARELY gets drunk

Your Character’s Character:

Bad Habits — indulges with food, dwelling on the past Good Habits — good grooming, good listener, organized, quick learner Best Characteristic — the biggest heart, he cares deeply about his fam and community Worst Characteristic — stubborn, suspicious, anxious Worst Memory — his sisters and athena’s death Best Memory — marrying athena! His daughters’ births! Proud of — his daughters, his company Embarrassed by — his daughters -- benjamin probably lol Driving Style —  too damn cautious, grandma, soccer moms you if the car stops too fast, Safe Driver ™ Strong Points — resilient, strong, detail-oriented, smart, studious, hard worker, meticulous, community-oriented/family-oriented Temperament — stoic, laidback til u piss him off Attitude — cautious, realistic, lil sassy but like subtle Weakness — his fears and anxieties Fears — losing his daughters Phobias — ?? Secrets — he’s a MERMAID Regrets — not being with athena/being able to save his sisters/wife, def relationships w lana and ariel Feels Vulnerable When — when he doesn’t know what is going on, lack of control, when his girls are upset with him Pet Peeves — littering, not being listened to, putting their feet on the dashboard Conflicts — wants his daughters to be independent v wants them to be safe; family versus community: mermaids are community oriented and it is hard for him to not fully be himseLF and not be useful -- would choose fam over community. Motivation — be a good community leader, keep his daughters safe, give back, keep the lake/ocean/community safe and clean, be a good dad Short Term Goals and Hopes — daughters succeed academically, board stuff, community safe Long Term Goals and Hopes — safe and happy for his fam, WANTS GRANDBABIES Sexuality — heteroflexible/demisexual Exercise Routine  — swims p regularly Day or Night Person — wants to be a day person, but his depression/insomnia force him to be a night person Introvert or Extrovert — extroverted introvert Optimist or Pessimist — pessimist with realist leanings

Likes and Styles:

Music — Jimmy Buffet and dad rock, also Jazz Books — biographies! Magazines — nat geo, home improvement magazines, men’s health, takes teen vogue quizzes w the girls Foods — p much likes everything, lots of fish, also likes sweets and junk food Drinks — craft beer, water, coffee Animals — his marine counterpart is a turtle!! But he likes most animals--just not in the house w a bunch of daughters,, Sports — eh not particularly Social Issues — left-leaning on most social issues, but more fiscally conservative. Big running points are always SAFETY SAFETY. Big on environmental stuff Favorite Saying — “if life gives you limes, make margaritas” - Jimmy Buffett Color — Green, like Athena’s eyes /tear Jewelry — wears bracelets, rings, necklaces, mostly hemp and beaded stuff, occasionally metal if Dressing Up Websites — watches TED talks, loves youtube (for animal vids), is that dad that comments on everything on facebooks, decent w the internet bc y’know he runs a company, TV Shows — home improvement, cooking shows, bad reality telly, historical dramas (mad men, house of cards), sitcoms Movies — tbh likes romcoms on the lowkey, hates horror, will watch anything hte girls want (but horror) Greatest Want — keep his family safe, happiness for his girls Greatest Need — learn to let go, safety/security/peace

Where and How Does Your Character Live Now:

Home — lives in the Woods, five bedroom, three floors, mansion Household furnishings — relatively modern but also homey Favorite Possession — his photo albums and his wedding ring Most Cherished Possession — HIS DAUGHTERS!!! Married Before — to the LOVE OF HIS LIFE Athena Significant Other Before — probably one girlfriend Children — Attina, Andrina, Adella, Arista, Aquata, Alana, Ariel Relationship with Family — has a good relationship with his sister who is still alive and that fam, they live on land these days tho closer to the shore tbh?? They probably work together. Really close with Attina, Andrina, Aquata. Has a good relationship with Arista too. Strained relationships with Ariel and Adella and Alana (in that order of most to least strained lol) Car — 2012 Honda Odyssey in grey -- “The Humpback” Career — CEO of Triton Industries, a nonprofit that works towards ocean clean up. Dream Career — Uh, probably exactly what he is doing tbh Dream Life — being able to move between the land and the ocean freely without fear of repercussion, athena alive, all his daughters happy, retired with grandbabies Love Life — non-existent /tear; tho tbh probably gets hit on all the time. This makes him uncomfortable. Talents or Skills — good at chess, good cook, handy around the house, knows sign language/french/spanish, can sew a bit, play an instrument ?? (something brassy maybe the trumpet or drums) Intelligence Level — 8, he’s v intelligent. Finances — they rich af holla @ sunken treasure

Your Character’s Life Before Your Story:

Past Careers — uhhh worked in mer-government tbh probabyl like environment conservation   Past Lovers — like one girlfriend, he was not very smooth w the ladies Biggest Mistakes — being too controlling, letting athena out of his sight Biggest Achievements — watching attina and adella graduate, all his daughters being safe and (mostly) happy!!, his company, his solid place on the board

[robin-hood-for-freedom]

Its been a LONG time since I’v done anything regarding Anita Sarkeesian.  And to be honest, I wasnt going to make a response to this.  But I feel like he actually raises some interesting points that are worth discussing.  

to the skeptics and anti sjw's she'sseen in all ways as a force for bad adishonest critic opportunist a scamartist and ideologue a huge dick 

I guess thats fair.  At this point I dont think most anti-sjws really care about her though.  I will say that, I, personally never got on board with the whole idea that she was a scam artist(though I can see why some people came to that conclusion).  Imo, even if its true(and I doubt it), its largely a red herring.  

so what I'll call the Internet left however she was broadly understood as an all-around decent critic who was unfairly maligned harassed and abused because she was a woman who spoke about feminism and about her unfair treatment on the Internet

Since you are part of the ‘internet left’ I’ll take your word for it.  

I genuinely like Anita sarkeesian I agree with lots of her points and thought she was pretty cool before I knew she was somebody who everybody hated

I’m gonna be honest: Even if I was inclined to agree with anita’s criticism(I’m not), I dont know if I would really like her as a person or say she was ‘cool.’  Her videos and public appearances to me just come across as boring and uninspired.  

To be fair though, my only interaction with her has been through those videos/appearances.  So its possible she’s actually really nice and funny in person.  

even if I didn't like her though I still wouldn't think she deserved the ire of the public you know threats and harassment from people who hated every fiber of her being

Looking back I’m actually somewhat inclined to agree with you.  Aside from the obvious that nobody deserves threats and harassment(although those were grossly exaggerated), I actually think the attention given to her was unwarranted.  That said, I think most of was less hatred for Anita as a person, or even as a woman, and more concerns about her potential influence and how that might affect games(and other media) we love.  

Looking back that influence turned out to be ‘basically none’ but you know what they say about hindsight.  

I'm gonna be looking closely at a few people mostly Thunderfoot and sargon of akkad

I’m going to point out at this point that I’m not really that interested in defending Sargon or Thunderf00t(especially not Thunderf00t).  I have my quibbles with their takes on Anita.  

the first big argument that Anita sarkeesian wants to make that looking at games we can see a general tendency toward centralizing narratives of male and particularly straight male empowerment and what's more that this narrative tends to place the women of video games into some pretty weird positions women are less likely to be the protagonists of games they're more likely to be presented as sexually appealing to have their bodies put on display they're more likely to take on passive or victimized positions as damsels their to be rescued by predominantly male heroes

You cold argue that there are games that do this.  I could point out loads of counter-examples of games that dont.  

But, more importantly, I think, is that she doesnt really make an argument for why this is bad.  And even the limited attempts she does make, you explicitly reject later in this video.  In other words, we’re left with no reason to accept this as a criticism, unless we’ve bought into feminist ideology prior to clicking on Anita’s videos.  

If you want to argue that these videos were meant to be specifically for a feminist audience and that its silly for non-feminists to care, I guess thats fair as far as it goes.  But I dont think thats what you are getting at with this video.  

not being an expert in games myself I can't really go through er work fact-checking each and everyone of those examples besides that's not really something that interests me

I guess thats fair as far as it goes.  I’m actually glad you acknowledge that you dont know that much about games(unlike anita).  But I think you’ll miss a lot of the criticisms of her in that case, which tended to focus on how fairly she was presenting the games she looked at(not very in most cases).  

He then posts and summarizes a Thunderf00t video here, I’m only gonna respond to one point then pick up later(watch the full video for context)

Jamie's girlfriend didn't need to get beaten up we didn't need to see her panties as she was taken away

I pointed this out when I responded to Anita, but compare the amount of Marion porn, to the amount of Chung-li porn, and then tell me how much men desire weak or disempowered women(granted this isnt overly relevant to anything he said, but it was something that always bugged me about anita’s arguments).

Double Dragon might be a story about heroism in some broad sense but it's also a male power fantasy it makes you feel good because you get to play as a badass

No, it IS a story about heroism.  I can agree that the game sidelines and ‘damsels’ Marion(although again I’m not sold on the idea of that being inherently a bad thing).  But the fantasy isnt just about beating people up for no reason, its about being able to protect and save the people you care about.  I’m seriously skeptical that Double Dragon(or most other games) would resonate as much without that aspect.  

I’m skipping most of the rest of the Thunderf00t stuff, because I dont think thunderf00t made the best arguments, and dont have much desire to defend them.  

here's her second and much more important position that games being like that that's a problem Anita isn't just here to make a bunch of neutral statements about what video games are like she wants to say that video games have some relationship to things like sexism misogyny the patriarchy negative and pervasive stuff she sees in our culture

And since I’m not convinced that games can cause people to become sexist or other have other negative views(and neither are you as we shall see).  The only problem is that the games in question offend her feminist sensibilities.  

[these youtubers] nitpick small errors in her analysis see she spoke too broadly about hitman her general observations about video games must be totally off-base

Its not just hitman.  That was just one of many, many examples of her misrepresenting or deliberately using game mechanics to painting games in a worse light than reality is.  Also she shows no understand of how gameplay affects player attention and focus(presumably because she doesnt know as a result of not playing them)

cultivation Theory cultivation theory is an area of research and psychology that attempts to study and demonstrate the impact that media has on people the sorts of behaviors and dispositions it cultivates and when these youtubers talk about this theory it is always to point out that the research has proven it false

Not so much that its been proven false.  But that the effects shown are much more subtle than is commonly portrayed, tends to reinforce previously held beliefs rather than implanting new ones, and may not even apply to games.  Liana Kerzner(funny how you dont cover her despite the fact that she got a decent amount of attention for arguing with Anita), and AydenPaladin have both discussed this extensively, so I’ll just leave links to their videos.  

let's say for the sake of argument that these people are absolutely right about their science every study we've done shows that video games cause no shift in behavior or disposition our research into cultivation Theory has given us nothing but a bunch of bummed out psychologists now assuming all this let's ask a question what exactly would these findings mean to Anita sarkeesian's claim that video games can be harmful

It would mean she’s wrong.  Actually she’s wrong even in the real world where cultivation is a thing, just more subtle and might not apply to games.  

but to me it would mean absolutely nothing and why is that well here's one big reason I don't think that science is actually capable of disproving obvious facts about the wa ypeople work media's abilities are cultivate behaviors emotions and dispositions isn't some incidental point about it that requires further proof rather it's the entire reason why media exists in the first place

You’re conflating two very different things here.  Nobody denies that media has an ‘effect’ in the sense of causing an emotional reaction or giving some new information to people.  But thats a VERY different thing than saying media can alter peoples long-term attitudes, beliefs or behaviors.  

I agree the former is obvious.  The latter isnt.  And in fact the effect media has is pretty small.  

let's do a little thought experiment say a film is made that is unabashed Nazi propaganda let's call it Lubin'sLubin

You obviously dont speak German, but okay.  

every moment in this film conveys an anonymous and an explicit hatred of Jews let's say that this film is so horrendously racist that nobody in society can possibly be influenced by it to become Nazis the vast majority of people watch it critically tear it apart maybe even reflect on how silly and gross Nazism is

So you’re saying this film may, unintentionally, have a net positive effect on society.  Go on.

now if what's argon and Thunderfoot says is true if the only way to say a work of art is toxic is to look at its literal impact on society then we would be unable to condemn Lubin sh Lubin since the film has no tangible effect on anyone's behavior

Oh we could absolutely condemn the film, say its gross or bad or stupid or whatever.  What could not do is say its harmful.  Because it isnt.  

everybody with a brain knows that this movie is bad politically not in a way that means we should ban it but in a way that is worthy of our scorn and disgust

Sure such a film would be disgusting.  But disgust isnt harm.  And to conflate the two is not only disingenuous as fuck, but potentially dangerous.  

By this logic, Anita Sarkeesian’s videos are harmful, because lots of people are disgusted by them.  

watching Anita sarkeesian's videos she does site cultivation Theory a few times says there's a causal relationship between video games being the way they are and people being sexist and to be honest I kinda wish she hadn't said those things

Do I even need to comment?  

you can see that she means something very similar to what we described in our thought experiment we can see this whenever she talks about games it's pretty obvious

Indeed.  Her main reason for condemning video games is that they offend her feminist sensibilities.  So non-feminists have no reason to accept her criticism.  

she didn't wait for the Double Dragon studies to come in and prove that the game causes regressive behaviors and of course she didn't do that because she doesn't have to she is a person who experienced this work of art and she's claiming here that what she saw in it

Or in other words:

it stipulates that violence against women can be understood as erotic

Again, who is the bigger sex symbol: Marion or Bayonetta?  hint: its NOT the one who is passive recipient of violence.  

it just doesn't make sense to reserve our judgments of media to only those things that the work is actively calling for we also have to look at subtext and coding

And the subtext here is ‘kidnapping and beating up women is bad.  And real manly badasses protect and care for the ones they love.’  

keeping with our Nazi propaganda theme which I guess we have here let's use let's use this boy as an example:

image posted for reference.

this image obviously sucks because in the society it was used in it conveyed terrible ideas it serves to implicitly justify racial hierarchy and to normalize the idea that Jewish people were subhuman it

The difference here is the image in question was used in explicit anti-semitic propaganda.  There is a history here that directly links this imagery to Nazism and anti-semitism more broadly.  

Video games dont have such a history.  Even the tropes anita discusses that pre-date video games, such as the damsel in distress dont really have such a history.  The story of Saint George and the dragon(one of the earliest DiD stories, and the oldest anita cites) was about faith and knightly duty, not gender relations.  Hell Double Dragon isnt ABOUT how helpless your grlfriend, but about being the hero who is willing and capable to protect her.  

Skipping some more, because I dont care:

what he[thunderf00t] seems to have forgotten is that you can buy cigarettes under capitalism and you can buy an apple under capitalism cigarettes kill 400,000 people every year but apples they don't do nearly that much damage it's actually said that they keep the doctors away you might think that cigarettes should remain legal and I'm sympathetic to that idea but you'd have a hard time convincing me that they're not harmful to the people who use them

The difference is that we have loads of evidence that cigarettes cause real, tangible harm.  The same cannot be said for media.  Even cultivation theory says that media tends to reinforce existing beliefs than implant new ones.  And its not always clear that those beliefs translate into tangible actions.  

And I’m gonna say it again before anybody brings it up:  disgust is not harm.  

you may think that you can talk about the worth of art from a political or moral perspective but in fact that's just a mirage anything you say about media is just an unverified and likely unsupportable position and you should probably forget about

I would phrase it differently:  You can talk about media from a moral or political perspective all you want.  However, anybody who doesnt share your perspective would then be perfectly justified in simply dismissing what you have to say.  

hate Anita sarkeesian not because of what she says but because of who she is and the damage she causes

More precisely the damage we thought she might potentially cause.  Which admittedly in hindsight was an overreaction.  

they talk about how she sucks because she released her video slowly

Usually its less about her being slow, and more about she failed to keep her kickstarter promises.  I dont really go in for that because because I frankly dont think its that big a deal.  

didn't like being harassed on the Internet

Look, what she has shown as harassment is no worse than what most people(men and women) experience.  The vast majority of it wasnt even harassment but responses and criticisms.  

I guess you could say that online harassment shouldnt be a thing at all.  But I also dont think thats very realistic.  

talk about how she's a fraudulent grifter who gets her lackeys to phony bomb threats so she can make more money

I dont know about the bomb threat thing specifically.  I DO know that she used the harassment she received(real or not) to get attention and money.  

about how she's a fake gamer and so she shouldn't be talking about games

Thats a perfectly valid criticism though.  Media criticism is best done by people who actually have knowledge of the media in question.  

these guys are unapologetically anti-feminist and because of that they see no reason to change media to make it more feminist

So you DO get it!  

and they don't criticize and Anita sarkeesian's work because of cultivation theory I mean where are the studies that show that these videos are causing murder rates to increase

I honestly dont know what you’re getting at here.  The only reason anybody ever brought up cultivation theory is because Anita did first.  

And they dont criticize Anita  Sarkeesian's work because she explicitly calls for immoral actions

Nobody said she did?  Although I think if you read between the lines she has some really negative views towards men.  

and they don't criticize Anita sarkeesian's videos because they exist outside some benevolent capitalist structure I've got some hot news for you Anita sarkeesian's work is actually facilitated by capitalism

I’m not sure what you’re getting at here.  But it does make Anita a massive fucking hypocrite.  

no they hate Anita sarkeesian's work mostly because she says stuff they think is bad she's a feminist who wants various things about games to change and they disagree with her vehemently about it

And more importantly, that with all the attention she was getting at the time we thought the kind of changes she wants might actually start to happen.  Not that her videos would turn game developers into feminists(because lets face it, theres basically zero chance of her videos turning anybody feminist).  But because they might become convinced that there is an audience for the kind of games she wants.  

Like I said multiple times:  We were mostly mistaken about that.  

Theres not really much else here.  he just repeats himself.  so thats all for now.  

[badbackgroundscience]

Okay, who totally miscalibrated the Enterprise’s sensors?

Episode of the Week: The Corbomite Maneuver

Planet of the Week: n/a Villain of the Week: a tiny man with a puppet fetish Redshirt death count: 0

TL;DR: The Enterprise gets chased by a glowing cube of death and Kirk attempts to bluff a puppet. An incompetent navigator becomes an ambassador despite having no experience (Does that sound timely to anyone else?). Leonard McCoy is not a moon shuttle conductor.

Our episode opens with the Enterprise boldly charting where no one has charted before. Soon, it runs into a mysterious...“device” (Spock’s word, not mine). It doesn’t look particularly intimidating, but it does go out of its way to block our ship in any direction it tries to travel. No, Sulu doesn’t ever try to go backwards, but I guess he can’t think of everything.

Kirk wanders up to the bridge from sickbay without his shirt on (Well, I guess it’s on), and we learn this glowing, rotating cube is solid, but made of a completely unknown composition.

This is further confirmed when Sulu provides its size and mass: 107 meters on each side, and “a little under 11,000 metric tons”.* That makes its density, if we round to 2 significant figures, 9.0 kilograms per cubic meter (kg/m3).

The density of water, for comparison, is 1000 kg/m3; the density of air (it varies by temperature and pressure) is about 1.2 kg/m3.

In other words, this “solid” is barely denser than most gases (Tungsten hexafluoride, for example, is a whopping 12.9 kg/m3. It’s toxic and forms hydrofluoric acid when it contacts water. I do not recommend breathing tungsten hexafluoride. Sulfur hexafluoride, on the other hand, can be used to freak out reality show judges).

Some of you might think the cube could be made of an aerogel, which sometimes goes by the nickname “frozen smoke” because they’re all usually at least 90% air, and the original material used (silica) produces a translucent blue color. The least dense aerogel, according to Guinness, has a density of 0.16 kg/m3 (not pictured below, but pictured here).

I would argue it’s technically not entirely solid, because, as the name suggests, aerogels are basically gel with the liquid part replaced by a gas (making it a solid full of a bunch of ‘holes’), but I’m sure there are people who would disagree with me. I’m okay with that.

But anyway, a definition: 

“An aerogel is an open-celled, mesoporous**, solid foam that is composed of a network of interconnected nanostructures and that exhibits a porosity (non-solid volume) of no less than 50%.” 

(The “open-celled” part means that the air isn’t trapped inside solid pockets, but the structure of an aerogel’s solid bits does make it difficult for air to move through it. That’s partly what makes it a great thermal insulator:)

We can infer that, from something Spock says later in the episode,*** the cube is metallic. Aerogels can be made out of a lot of substances, including metals, which is great if you need them to do different things (like conduct electricity, or not conduct electricity). 

Many might feel like what you’d expect - that green foam you put in pots for flower arrangements. And many of them are pretty fragile (They are mostly air, after all). Traditional silica aerogels can support an evenly distributed weight a couple thousand times their own, but special aerogels (called, perhaps unsurprisingly, “x-aerogels”) get a lot stronger.

You can read more about aerogels, including how you actually make them, here.

When the Enterprise tries pulling away from the “buoy”/”flypaper” (again, Spock’s words), it starts emitting radiation. Our first officer reports said radiation comes “from the short end of the spectrum”, which I like to think means ‘gamma rays’ - the shortest of all wavelength types on the electromagnetic spectrum. Also, it’s dangerous, and gamma rays are nothing if not dangerous to people who aren’t behind, like, a meter of packed dirt or many many centimeters of lead.

No one (unfortunately(?)) turns into a giant green rage monster, but Kirk gets desperate enough to finally order his crew to fire phasers**** and destroy it. 

After an unspecified amount of time - enough for a couple of practice drills and for Kirk to get mad at a salad - they come across a much larger object. Instead of a cube, it’s a sphere with a bunch of bumps all over it.

Here’s both the original and the CGI!update versions:

Spock says the sphere’s mass goes off his scale (which is rather odd...I mean, hopefully they’re be able to measure the masses of stars with a bloody spaceship, let alone something not massive enough to engage in nuclear fusion), and "must be a mile in diameter”.*****

Mr. Bailey, the navigator who gets relieved of duty later in the episode for failing to remain calm under pressure, reports the Enterprise is 5000 meters away, yet the object fills their viewscreen. If you immediately wondered if the math works out on that, well, you’re me.

We can measure how big it would look if the viewscreen were really a window. We’re looking for the object’s angular diameter, which comes out to be roughly 18 degrees of arc. That’s pretty close to how big a basketball looks when you hold it out at arm’s length.

Feel free to draw your own conclusions from that analogy.

Sulu says this is what it looks like at “magnification 1-8-point-5″:

That would, of course, mean they’d actually be zooming in on the object, instead of out. So really he meant -18.5 (aka 1/18.5 the original size, or 18.5 times smaller. Was that a typo in the script, or George remembered the line wrong? No one will probably ever know...

Kirk has Uhura hail the object. They receive a message that they’re going to destroy the Enterprise in 10 minutes because they trespassed into their territory and destroyed a warning buoy. Kirk tries to run away, but the baddie Balok ain’t havin’ none of that.

Kirk eventually realizes (thanks to a random comment from Dr. McCoy) the two vessels aren’t playing a game of chess, but of poker. He then delivers the following bluff, providing us the title of the episode -- The Corbomite Maneuver:

“Since the early years of space exploration, Earth vessels have had incorporated into them a substance known as corbomite. It is a material and a device which prevents attack on us. If any destructive energy touches our vessel, a reverse reaction of equal strength is created, destroying the attacker! It may interest you to know that since the initial use of corbomite more than two of our centuries ago, no attacking vessel has survived the attempt. Death has little meaning to us. If it has none to you then attack us now. We grow annoyed at your foolishness.”

Balok decides not to fire on the Enterprise, and instead gets inside the equivalent of a shuttlecraft (only 2000 metric tons, according to Spock) to come tractor the Enterprise to an M-class planet in Balok’s territory.`* Kirk plays along for a bit, then has Sulu try and break away. They do, with damage to their engines, and apparently damage to Balok’s ship as well.

Rather than let Balok die from a lack of life support, Kirk, McCoy, and Bailey transport over to help (Note he did not bring an engineer, which I might have thought of doing...). Turns out what they thought Balok was was a puppet.

Instead, Balok is a bald child with funky eyebrows, and very (very) obviously dubbed over by a grown but weird-sounding man.

Balok offers the three men a drink called tranya (actually grapefruit juice for filming), and confesses his distress signal was a test. He also reveals he’s the lone occupant of the entire mile-long ship, and very lonely. He asks for one of Kirk’s crewmen to stay on board and hang out for an extended period of time. Bailey volunteers...

...and we never see him again (in canon).

*insert scary music*

* A metric ton, for the uninitiated Americans, is 1000 kg, or 2200 pounds.

** “Mesoporous” means it contains pores ranging from 2-50 nm in diameter

*** He’s reporting on the ship that sent it out. The line: “Exceptionally strong contact. Not visual yet. Distant spectrograph. Metallic, similar to cube. Much greater energy reading.”

**** Despite being completely solid, it’s somehow capable of warp travel...I cannot explain why, nor can the humans or half-vulcans living several centuries beyond me.

***** A mile-wide sphere with the mass of the Sun (which is by no means the most massive star in the galaxy, and hopefully easily measurable by the Enterprise’s sensors) would have an average density 750 times greater than that of the most dense non-black hole matter in the known universe, i.e. a neutron star. The Enterprise and its crew would be experiencing about 540 billion g’s of acceleration from their stated distance of 5000 meters away.

That’s heavy, doc.

`* He doesn’t actually say “M-class” - that hasn’t been established in the canon, yet. He just says it’ll be one that can sustain their lives.

Enjoy the blog and have a dollar to spare? I have a Patreon, now.

TOS s1e10 - Written by Jerry Sohl, Directed by Joseph Sargent

Image credits:

aerogel 1 NASA/JPL-Caltech 

aerogel 2 Lawrence Berkeley National Laboratory 

[sudsybear]

Mark

Eventually that fall, I hooked up with Mark. He and I attended art class together. As a senior, I wanted an easy course. The department had a great reputation so I signed up. I was one of a few upperclassmen in with a bunch of sophomores and juniors.

 Mark has incredible drawing talent. He doesn’t use it much anymore, but he retains a wonderful artistic eye. It takes him forever to complete a project. As we were in the art classroom finishing up our projects to make our deadlines, we chatted. I flirted shamelessly, and got him hooked. He was mine.

 Mark was still growing into himself when we dated. He may have grown an inch or two during our time together – he stopped growing when he reached 5’10”. He has a slender build, topped with dirty blonde hair and at age sixteen, was already showing signs of premature balding. He suffers that Northern European receding hairline that so many men have. Put that high forehead with a long straight aquiline nose, full lips, and a receding chin, and that’s Mark.

 He is an only child. As a young woman, his mother married a man twice her age. And consequently Mark’s father died when he was quite young. When I knew Mark, he was very protective of his mother. She tried to date, but he was having none of it. “Putz” was his word. Reminded me of David a bit. (Will some psychologist please explain about teenage boys and their mothers? What is it that prevents them from letting their mothers have social and personal lives? Is it hormonal, Oedipal, what?)  A loner, Mark does his own thing, and yet has a quiet fascination with the social interaction of his peers. Standing quietly in a hallway, he acutely observes and absorbs everything going on around him. He works hard to maintain his independent identity, and yet nurses a private insecurity, a longing to be part of the “in” crowd.

 He didn’t have his driver’s license, or a car to drive even if he did, so I drove everywhere. Mark remembers riding in the Pinto. Stopped at the red light at the corner of my street and the main street through town (The one red light in the eight hundred yards between the high school parking lot and my house.)  Wish you were here was in the tape player. He thought it was so cool that a girl knew (and liked!) Pink Floyd. That’s it. That’s the memory. A nice one don’t you think? And provides a great transition as well. No longer with David, I took up with Mark. No longer driving the Buick, I traded a ragtop for a tape player. I still liked to drive, even a Pinto. And I took something of my own away from David and Christopher. I actually enjoyed a little Floyd.

 Mark was a year behind me in school, and best friends with Scott (Ross’ younger brother). So, through Mark, I got to know Scott a little better. Ross had mentioned Scott in one of his previous letters, but it took six months from the time Ross first mentioned him before I actually spent any time with Scott. But even then, it wasn’t Scott I spent time with, it was Mark.

 We didn’t have any money to spend (babysitting money only went so far – filling up gas tanks, and buying fast food) so we made our own fun. Mark and I played board games together, Scrabble mostly. We sat on the floor of my parent’s living room with the board between us, and battled. We picked letters and created words. I don’t remember who won or even if we ever finished a game. We may have gotten tired of playing and just poured the tiles back in the box.

 I was a Scrabble fiend that winter. I was in a mood for battles of letters and words. I lobbied hard to convince the Corral Board to put on a Saturday night game night: Scrabble, Monopoly, penny poker, but no one else rallied with me. I was bored with the live bands and DJ’s at Corral, I had been there, done that, and was tired of jumping around the dance floor. Even so, my friends were all dancing, so I packed up the Scrabble box and drove to the Civic Center to play. Mark and I got a game going, friends surrounded us, kibitzing and soon the room was split between the dancers and the band in the front of the hall near the stage, and the Scrabble game going on in the back of the hall. Exclaims of “Good Word” were shouted over the drum set. Mark and I reveled in the attention.

 Mark and I talked. He didn’t own a computer and we practiced the fine but fading art of personal conversation. While he was a loner, that didn’t mean he lacked opinions, or interesting things to say. His observations provided a perspective I hadn’t considered in my young life. Of course we listened to music – Mark likes stuff with a harder edge. For whatever reasons he’s angrier than other people I have known. Dead Kennedy’s, Adam and the Ants, The Kinks, The Clash, Sex Pistols. Some I like, some I don’t. It’s fun to listen and learn. After school, while his mom was at work, we sat on the floor of his room and listened.

 One evening Mark was over at our house for dinner – or stopped by shortly after – and while I sat at the dining room table, Mom cleared some dishes and got coffee for Dad. We asked about dessert, and somehow the conversation turned to chocolate chips. The next thing I know, we’re sitting around the table – all of us, Mom, Dad, Mark and myself – balancing chocolate chips on the end of our noses trying to then catch them in our mouth. We got the giggles – I think Dad was the only one who could master the task. My nose is too pug to be able to get the necessary angle.

 Another afternoon we decided not to play Scrabble, but to try Trivial Pursuit instead. We started the game and were playing when Dad arrived home from work. After changing clothes, he walked into the living room to visit and watch what was going on. Dad started feeding me answers…I picked the most obscure category – Entertainment most likely (Despite the fact that I love movies, I cannot retain names. So knowing who starred in what movie, or which song made the top ten in 1958 was well beyond my ken.) I impressed the hell out of Mark. We kept playing, and he kept giving me these looks like, “How in hell did you know that?” Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore and burst out laughing. Poor guy.

 Mark was not David. While David and I were occasionally public with our displays of affection, Mark and I were quite private. Most never knew we dated. Quietly, discreetly with music playing in the background, some afternoons teen passion got the better of us and we explored each others’ bodies. Shy and nervous with each other, our unfamiliarity desperately wanted to become familiar. We reached for each other, kissing tenderly.

 He was brave and trusting enough one afternoon to let me cut his hair. Sitting on a chair in his mother’s yellow kitchen, he wrapped a towel around his shoulders and let me dampen his head and run a comb through his hair. Then slowly and more than a little anxious, I snipped away at his locks, trimming them to the best of my untrained ability. We laughed and talked through our nervousness, and the experience turned sensual. I was his first girlfriend, his first kiss, and I didn’t realize until much later what a responsibility that is.

 *          *          *

 My brothers were home for Christmas that year – a now rare event to have all of us in one place for a holiday. Jack had been away for eight years. Tom and his wife lived in Oregon - he’d been gone for six years. My grandmother (we called her Mommer) was over for dinner with the whole family and the phone rang. Mother answered it, “Hello? Oh, just a moment. It’s for you Susan.”

 “Hello?”

 “Hi! I was wondering if you’d want to go see a movie tonight. Dune.”

 “Well, I’ve got family here, visiting. Let me check with my Mom and Dad. Hold on.”

 “Mom, Dad, is it all right if I go to a movie tonight? Dune.”

 “Sure, if you want to.”

 “Okay. What time? Who’s driving? You’ll pick me up? Great. See you then.” Click. Pause.

 Uh oh. Panic. Now what do I do?

 Confess.

 To my parents:  “I just did a silly thing. I have no idea who I’m going with. I have no idea who I was speaking to on the phone. I think it’s Victor, but I’m not sure. What do I do?”

 We discussed the predicament (added an interesting twist to the conversation anyway) and decided that should he call back, Mother would ask, “Who is calling?” before turning the phone over. Second choice was to investigate who would be coming to the door before I was ready.

 Turns out I was right. It was Victor, and his brothers Igor and Alex and their neighbor Matt. We all piled in the “Grenade” to see Dune. Fun movie. But why was I the only girl? Could it be those letters I wrote to Victor while he was at boot camp?

 I was still firmly entrenched in “the group” despite the falling out with David and others. Victor’s overture of friendship brought me back into the fold. It helped that Mark and Scott had friendships with Igor.

 Victor and Igor hosted a New Year’s Eve party. Upstairs in the living room, dining room and kitchen, the adults had their revelry with wine and cheese, and fancy hors d’ouevres. While the adults were tipsy upstairs, the teens were in the basement with our own loud music. Igor liked David Bowie, Victor played ELP, and of course the other 80s pop standards. Competing with the party upstairs, we had our own fun. Somebody mixed “reveler’s rot” a punch of Everclear mixed with whatever fruit juice was around – most often Welch’s with fruit slices thrown in for effect. A ghastly grape flavor that night, it was our illicit means of intoxication.

 Julie and I decided to get drunk. In all of our seventeen years we’d never had the experience, and decided it was about time. Teen Counseling pledge be damned. She and I gingerly stepped into the storage room where the punch was hidden and filled our Dixie cups. We tasted the concoction, grimaced, and tossed it back our throats. We drank 2-3 cupsful – who remembers exactly?

 I drank until the room started spinning and stopped. I got silly, and started dancing, then my bladder kicked in and I had to pee. (That’s how I remember that the lone john in the basement had nothing but a curtain in front of it. I had to pee a lot, and felt like I was on display every time I did.) As my curfew time approached, Victor took me up to his dad’s office so I could call home. Sitting on Victor’s lap, it took me several tries to punch in the numbers. Dad answered the phone. I told him I was having a lot of fun and asked to stay later. The guys sobered me up and I was able to drive the half-mile home by 2 a.m. or so. Overall, it was a most pleasant evening – my first drunk in the midst of friends who loved and respected me for who I was, lumps and all.

 Poor Julie got too much for her system and started vomiting. Her parents came and picked her up early. I don’t even remember her leaving the party. I learned about that later.

. The P���

[horror-movie-blog]

HMB: ABC’s of Death 2

Original Publishing Date: July 11th, 2015 

A long time ago I did a THMB on the ABC's of Death, a collection of shorts that felt out of place and its only connection was that people died in them. The sequel is the same thing. Terrible shorts that have no relation to each other besides the fact someone dies in each one of them. I stated this doesn't work as horror because we need time to establish characters, atmosphere and conflict in order to pull someone into a scary story. These shorts range from two minutes to at most five minutes in length and that's not enough time to establish those important elements. It can be done, but's its insanely difficult to pull off. One thing I didn't touch up upon when I was blogging about the original was how limited the direction was. From what the film tells us all the film makers had the creative freedom they desired, but keep in mind, they have a short amount of time, have to include a death and that death has to relate to a letter of the alphabet. Those kind of requirements really take away that "creative freedom". Some shorts felt like the death was tacked on at the end so that it can be in this film while other felt like they bullshit their letter, like they made the film, realized their film has nothing to do with the letter they were assigned and looked for the simplest letter that lines up with their movie. One thing I didn't do in the other blog, again, was that I didn't talk about each one of the shorts, I just said which were my favorite and which ones weren't. Well, since I have time to spare, let's go over all of them, shall we? Spoilers. A. Amateur: One of those shorts that tries to be a wise ass by fooling the audience into thinking what the death related letter will be. It's about an assassin, so we think assassin, but no. It's amateur. Because the assassin is an amateur, even though he was very successful in killing a bunch of guys in the beginning of the short. B. Badger: A snobby TV host gets killed by a radioactive badger. That's it. C. Capital Punishment: A town executes a man they think killed a little girl, when really the girl ran away with her much older boyfriend. The girl was caught as the man was being transported to the woods to be executed. Two men tried to drive over to stop the misunderstanding, but were killed in a car crash, again, to fool the audience into thinking the C in this short stood for "car". D. Deloused: I kind of like this one mostly due to it being stop motion, but boy does it not make sense. A faceless man is strapped on a board by other faceless men. The strapped man is killed, but a bug on one of the faceless man's face falls off and turns into a foaming puddle, and a bigger bug comes out of the puddle and starts eating the corpse of the man, but the man isn't dead and is watching this happen... You know what. I can't describe this short. It's too fucking weird to put into words. E. Equilibrium: Two men are stranded on a deserted island when a woman is washed ashore. One of the men takes a liking to this woman, causing the other man to get jealous. This climaxes to the men fighting and killing the woman. There's even a little reference to Cast Away in it (of coarse its fucking Wilson, it's always fucking Wilson). F. Falling: A rather attractive Israeli woman who is a paratrooper is stuck in a tree and is discovered by an Arab boy. The Arab boy decides to cut the woman down to bring back to his village. During the short few minutes together, they seemed to be starting a bond, perhaps a romance. But no, the woman falls down and breaks her leg (even though she was like a foot off the ground) and the boy shoots himself because guns do that apparently. Men from the village come, see the body, assume she did it, and cuts to black because the film makers ran out of money, I guess. G. Grandad: A young man's grandfather sleeps underneath the grandson's comforter (not bed, comforter), and kills his grandson because he's cramping his style. Or, you know, the short had to have killing in it. Also the grandad has no dick. Thank you for showing that movie, that effect must have costed your entire budget. H. Head Games: Another animated one, this one is hand drawn and is about two people kissing each other, which escalates into a abstract explosion which is usually common in experimental animation. I like this one, reminds me of something I would see in Ottawa. I. Invincible: Four people try to kill their 125 year old grandmother to gain her inherence. She can't die for some reason. Thought "I" was for "Inherence"? Nope. "Invincible". J. Jesus: A gay man is tied up and beaten in order for Jesus to cure him of his gayness. His dead lover comes back and kills the bigots. That's it. K. Knell: This one starts off great actually. A woman wakes up to find a large black orb of some oil like substance hovering in the sky. Once it disappears, the people in the building across from her starts killing each other. We see this from all the various windows in the building, and its really effective. They all suddenly turn to the girl as if they sensed her presence. The oil then comes after her, and then weird shit happens. I kind of like this one for the beginning. L. Legacy: An African tribe that speaks English for some reason tried to sacrifice a man, but then they don't, and that some how summons a demon that kills a lot of people. This one was sloppily put together, and "legacy"? Really a stretch on that one. M. Masticate: A man high on bath salts attacks three people and gets shot in the face. It's artsy because its in slow motion. That's it. N. Nexus: A man and child are hit by a car. That's it. O. Ochlocracy (mob rule): Zombies have taken over the world, only a drug allows them to regain their conciseness, so they gather all the people who were defending themselves by killing zombies and had them all tried as murderers. A woman is sentence to death in the electric chair, but that only turns her and a row of dead bodies in front of her into zombies, which then attacks the other zombies. Meta. P. P-P-P-P Scary (oh, OH, BOO! BOOOOO! YOU WEREN'T EVEN TRYING ON THAT ONE): This one is the worst. Hands down. Three annoying shit heads with prosthetic noses encounter another shit head with a baby with the face of a man. They all have a lisp and are fucking annoying. Hated this one. Q. Questionnaire: A man takes a test that proves he's very smart. Then the test makers kidnap him and put his mind into that of a gorilla. That's it. R. Roulette: A man, his wife, and a random guy play Russian roulette. At the end the man shoots his wife for some reason. This upsets something upstairs, which we never learn what. S. Split: A man calls his wife, who is attacked by someone with a hammer. Hammer person kills his baby and at the end we discover hammer person was a woman, and she is the husband of the man the man on the phone was having an affair with. What a twist. T. Torture Porn: Three perverts film a woman getting undressed. She turns out to be some sort of demon and rapes and kills the three men. That's it. U. Utopia: A man is killed by a robot for being different, I guess. V. Vacation: A man goes on vacation with his friend and are killed by a prostitute. W. Wish: Two kids get wisked away to a fantasy land inspired by their toy set. One of the boys get killed and the other gets mistaken for a princess by an old man in a speedo. You know, the last movie had two shorts revolved around old men fucking young boys, it was only a matter of time it happened in this one too. X. Xylophone: A little girl plays on a xylophone, because that begins with the letter X, and her babysitter kills her. The end. That's it. End of story. Y. Youth: A whiny little bitch complains about her average parents and fantasizes about killing them. Fuck off. Z. Let's save the worst for last. A woman is pregnant and her husband leaves her, but gives her a root that supposedly will keep the baby in her as long as she eats it, which would last enough until the man gets back. 13 years later, the woman has a preteen girl who speaks English still in her womb because the husband didn't return yet. She runs out of root, which apparently was what's been keeping the girl insider the mom the whole time, and burst out of the mother and wears her skin. The father returns, doesn't acknowledge he's been gone for 13 years, and the 13 years old girl, wearing her mother's skin, tells the father the baby was aborted and the father proceeds to have sex with his 13 year old daughter in order to "try again". So to sum it up, all of these shorts are terrible, the only good ones are the animated ones, gore, sex and violence does not equal horror nor does it equal entrainment and I hope none of these film makers put these movies on their resumes.