#properly identify everything I said and uh i’ll… i’ll figure it out later | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

soveryanon · 5 years ago

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Reviewing time for MAG156 /X_X/*

- I can’t believe that Simon was actually (not) foreshadowing this statement:

(MAG151) SIMON: I’d say “anytime”, but honestly, if you see me again… I may just throw you off something for a joke. How do you feel about… rollercoasters? MARTIN: Uh… Neutral. SIMON: Oh… [CHAIR SCRAPING] You’re no fun.

(MAG156, Adelard Dekker) “This was all too much for our witness, who had decided that whatever was going on in this place, he wanted no part of it. But as he turned to look for a way out, there was a sound that cut through the background din of the park: it was a scream from the rollercoaster, but not the joyful cry of adrenaline and mock terror, but a dreadful, piercing wail flying through the air. It seemed one of the riders, unable to properly benefit from the safety bar, had been thrown from the car at the height of a loop, and was sailing through the air, landing on the unforgiving ground of the main avenue with a horrendous crunch.”

(It’s like “rollercoasters” became part of Jonny’s imagery book in recent episodes only – there was this episode, there was Simon, and there was also Annabelle: “But by then, you’re away: the roller coaster is dropping and you’ve no real choice but to hold on and hope that… I don’t crash you.” (MAG147) We didn’t really have any before that!)

(I got Roller Coaster Tycoon flashbacks – you could get accidents so easily in your rollercoasters with badly controlled velocity, you could trap your visitors forever, they could be miserable, you could bury them in never-ending holes, they could drown… How come, except for this statement and The Stanger’s circus, the entities haven’t really banked on theme parks to get their hands on many unsuspecting people?)

- HEY, that’s so cool:

(MAG156, Adelard Dekker) “It’s a little too out-of-the-way to be a common destination for teenage delinquency, but has become, I’m told, quite popular with what could be described as “rural urban exploration” groups. Apparently, the lack of – well – actual urban areas to explore means that locations such as this? Become quite a draw for those in the area with an interest in abandoned places. And of course, its rather forbidding appearance, after ten years of decay, has led a few ghost hunters out that way as well; though I’m not aware of any specific tragedies or stories about it that would give them much to go on.”

I don’t even need Tim to be mentioned to feel Sad About Tim. (=> spontaneous feeling since “urbex” was mentioned.)

- Updated chronology of Adelard’s letters regarding The Extinction:

* MAG134: Statement of Adelard Dekker, taken from a letter to Gertrude Robinson dated 22nd January, 2006. * MAG156: Statement of Adelard Dekker, taken from a letter to Gertrude Robinson dated 4th January, 2009. * MAG144: Statement of Gary Boylan, given October 3rd, 2009. * MAG113: Statement of Adelard Dekker. Statement undated, likely circa 2012. * MAG149: Statement of Judith O’Neill, given May 13th, 2013.

Adelard was a biiit less affirmative and dead-set on the existence of The Extinction in this one – he did mention that Gertrude wasn’t absolutely convinced, and the statements&letters he sent her way were precisely supposed to back-up his theory:

(MAG134, Adelard Dekker) “I am now certain my theory is correct: there is something new emerging. A fifteenth Power. I didn’t want to believe it either, not at first, but I was alerted a few months ago to the case of a woman named Bernadette Delcour. […] Now I know what you’re going to say, Gertrude: odd doors are signs of The Spiral, empty worlds tend towards The Lonely, and eschatology is almost literally the study of The End. But this is different. I feel it. This Fear is new. This is a fear of extinction. Of change. […] I know you don’t credit my theories, and I’m sure you’ll have plenty to say on this one, but I’m going to need your help with this at some point – I’m sure of it. […] I’ll keep searching for evidence, trying to find… instances and manifestations of The Extinction. I’ll keep you updated.”

(MAG156, Adelard Dekker) “I’d be inclined to chalk this up as a genuine Extinction manifestation. But I don’t know. Am I drawing wild conclusions, trying to fit the account into my own preconceptions? Keen to know your feelings on the matter.”

(MAG113, Adelard Dekker) “I was pursuing my researches into the new emergence I mentioned earlier. I know you are dismissive of the possibility, but if I’m right, the sudden urgency of these “immediate dangers” you are so focused on could very well be a direct result. But that’s for another day, as this particular instance turned out to be unconnected.”

(MAG149) MARTIN: There’s… hum, a, a note here as well. [PAPER RUSTLING] Looks like Gertrude’s handwriting? Start of a letter to… Dekker, thanking him for sending Judith to her, though… it doesn’t look like it was ever finished or sent. [PAPER RUSTLING] “I assume this is another one he was trying to use to prove The Extinction? It… certainly has something in it. Mankind’s trash giving rise to something terrible. And again, fear of the other, inanimate humanoid figures. That’s all very… Stranger, isn’t it?”

Had Gertrude managed to temper him a bit, at first, after his initial conviction that there was a new Fear? Given the 2013 statement, what he found later was proof enough for him, at least.

- It’s cool that, thanks to the dates and the mention from Adelard, we can fit this letter in the broader scheme of Gertrude’s own actions:

(MAG130) GERTRUDE: Gertrude Robinson recording. December 19th, 2008. … In your own time. LUCIA: Right, okay. So. Hum. I was on holiday, actually. […] When a deal came up in the middle of October, the five days in Istanbul, I jumped on it. […] GERTRUDE: Dekker really came through with the explosives! It almost felt like cheating. Sad about the loss of history but Miss Wright didn’t seem to think the old Gnostic church got many visitors anyway.

(MAG156, Adelard Dekker) “Gertrude, I wanted your opinion on an encounter I’ve had described to me recently, and given your recent dealing with Viscera, I would very much value your input. Good job on that, by the way; I’m sure the gnostic temple was a great loss culturally speaking, but I can’t help but admire your directness when it comes to dealing with this sort of thing. I often find myself locked in a bit of an esoteric paralysis about how to proceed.”

(Could have just been “viscera” as the English noun, but given how he had called The End “Terminus” in MAG113, I think it was “Viscera” for The Flesh itself, and that he tends to favour Latin names?)

That statement was sent shortly after stopping The Flesh, then! I’m a bit curious because, from what Gertrude had said, I had got the feeling that Adelard had been present on the scene and had been the one to activate the explosives, although Gertrude herself was there in the flesh (ha):

(MAG130) LUCIA: It was barely more than a ruin. More than that, I seemed to be almost entirely alone. There’d been an old woman coming out of it when I arrived but… I hadn’t seen anyone apart from her. […] GERTRUDE: Well…! That – is – a relief. When I heard there’d been survivors of “The Last Feast”, I was rather concerned that one of them might be able to positively identify me, [CHUCKLE] which could land me in all sorts of trouble! But she doesn’t seem to remember me at all.

But it seems like Adelard wasn’t really involved in person… Did he really just supply the explosives and/or manage to get his hands on some because Gertrude has specifically asked? With what they both said, I couldn’t help but entertain the thought that they were both congratulating each other for… something a third party actually did, without either of them realising.

(If it wasn’t for Adelard’s quick comment in MAG134 (“Sorry I can’t be there in person to go over all this with you.”), I would still doubt that Adelard and Gertrude ever met each other face-to-face. It sounds like they were penpals, but kept a lot of distance – was it a way to try to avoid The Eye’s surveillance? I’m fearing a bit that Adelard will turn out to be yet another deceptive figure ;; Well. At the very least, he was a bit old, or at least had grey hair already in 2001 (MAG078: “his short hair was iron grey”), and Eric did point out that people who manage to get old in this business tend to, uh… not be the Greatest People Around.)

- So, were the teeth marks around the mirrors there because the park’s attendees could see through to the other side, and were really craving some of that (our) meat…?

(MAG156, Adelard Dekker) “Everything seemed more or less maintained, with paint that was old and starting to peel, but a long way from the bare, rotten wood it had been before. The only thing in worse condition were the mirrors themselves, the frames of which were now pocked with tiny, irregular indentations all the way round. It would be some time before the idea would come to him that they were teeth marks.”

Adelard pointed out that he had been reminded of Flesh with this one, and, indeed, there was the overall idea that “meat is me(at)” in the random outburst of cannibalism as soon as an opportunity arose – that part made me think of The Slaughter a bit (because… they were coexisting beforehand? It was a plain amusement park, with a few oddities), though I mostly got a Stranger vibe all through it (because of the fact that it was the familiar made unfamiliar, that these people were not-quite-people but meant harm anyway, and an overall wrongness to the whole experience).

(MAG156, Adelard Dekker) “There were people striding down the main avenue, past the well-lit booths trying to entice them with coconut throws and hoop games. The rollercoaster rattled along in the background, the faint screams of its riders drifting over the crowds below. For a few seconds, it seemed almost legitimately joyful. But as he watched, a certain wrongness began to become clear – meaningless details, if they were confined to a single punter, but all the park-goers seemed the same. […] A sudden silence fell over the place. The rides still whirred and rang and jangled, but every person there had gone completely still, their eyes locked on the mangled mess of broken limbs and shattered bone. It was the carnie that went first, vaulting over the side of the coconut shy with an unexpected agility. Then, it was as if a dam had broken, and every half-wasted figure descended on the twisted corpse. […] He tells me he was suddenly very aware of just how much flesh was on his body. […] So: what are your thoughts? I’m keen to hear your own interpretation of this account. My first assumption would have been The Flesh, based on the cannibalism and strangeness of the bodies involved, but… something about this idea of some sort of “famine world”, its location within a made-man ruin, the whole… societal aspect of it… I’d be inclined to chalk this up as a genuine Extinction manifestation. But I don’t know. Am I drawing wild conclusions, trying to fit the account into my own preconceptions? Keen to know your feelings on the matter.”

I’m glad that Adelard expressed a few doubts about his methodology regarding The Extinction, the fact that he’s not quite sure it’s actually a thing and not his own fantasies slapped on “usual” Fears-stuff, because I’m really getting this feeling too? At the same time, we know that the classifications have always been arbitrary, and Jon still might have provided the best summary (MAG111: “An infinite amorphous blob of terror bleeding out in every direction at once.”) – so The Extinction is a thing and is not a thing at the same time, it would always be impossible to perfectly nail it down and put it in a box?

The exploitable data is mostly the reoccurrences in the statements Adelard felt were Extinction:

* Appearing in abandoned places, or (man-made) places that have lost their purposes: Garland Hillier’s flat, which had been forgotten by history (MAG134); the old Bright Lake amusement park (MAG156); Gary Boylan’s emptied rural land in the countryside (MAG144). The only exception would be Judith O’Neill’s statement in the Amazonian forest (MAG149), though it shares the fact that it was isolated and not visited (it actually sounded like the reverse, a man-made-ish thing contaminating another place?).

* It’s never a solitary monster, but always multiple creatures that seem indistinctive.

(MAG134, Adelard Dekker) “But honestly, trying to get a description of these… things, these “Inheritors” from Bernadette Delcour made me wish I could just pull the image from her lips, like you would have been able to. In the end, she would say nothing of them, except that [STATIC]: “There is nothing done in the history of humanity that deserves the things that come after us.””

(MAG156, Adelard Dekker) “There were people striding down the main avenue […]. all the park-goers seemed the same. The first was how baggy their clothes were: it almost seemed as though everyone was wearing some sort of oversized novelty t-shirt. But it was the same with the shirts, jackets, dresses – until it became apparent that it was not the clothes that were too big, but the wearers who were too small. Their limbs were painfully thin to look at, their flesh stretched tight over jutting bones, and the fabric hung off them like great flaps of skin. The hair on each head was thin, and wispy, often missing in great chunks, and their eyes were sunken so hollow that from a distance, they seemed almost empty.”

(MAG144, Gary Boylan) “There are terrible things coming. Things that if we knew of them, would leave us weak, and trembling, with shuddering terror at the knowledge that they are coming for all of us. We all made them, and their course is already plotted. You can see them in the numbers. If you’d only learn how to read them.”

(MAG149, Judith O’Neill) “There were no people in there, but… that’s not the same thing as it being empty. Instead, there were… figures. From a distance, they looked like human beings, standing impossibly still. But getting closer… quickly revealed the lie. It was just the rough shapes, cobbled together out of a hundred different pieces of garbage: a broken metal clotheshorse for a ribcage; a… plastic chair leg for an arm; rusted screws for teeth. In some cases, it looked like someone had gone through a lot of effort to match anatomy with construction. I saw one with a broken water-cooler where its stomach would be, and another had a pair of oxygen tanks standing in for lungs. They were completely still, but there was something about them that made my mouth dry up, and my mind scream to run. [STATIC] It didn’t feel like they were statues. It felt like they were choosing not to move.”

* People who had an encounter were trespassers who… were thrown into another “world” at a distinct moment, and had to go back the same way. Exception would be Gary Boylan, who apparently received a message without crossing the line – but the message was performative and harmed his community?

(MAG134, Adelard Dekker) “She turned to leave and that, she says, is when she started to get the sense that something was wrong. The door had been damaged by the builders who uncovered the place, and there were several distinct gaps in the wood. But as she walked back out, the door appeared to be whole. She ignored it, and left anyways, trying to reason it all as a strange quirk of memory. Just one of those things. Unfortunately for her, it was not the only thing that had changed. The walls of the stairwell were discoloured, as though covered with a dusting of some… faint yellowish dirt, and the stone steps were ever so slightly sticky beneath her shoes. There was no sound, no sign of life other than the squeaking of leather as she descended, trying desperately to convince herself that nothing was wrong; that it had been just as quiet on the way up; that this building had always had a thick, humid feeling to the air. […] Remembering Hillier’s words about the door, she had just enough time to retreat back to the apartment and barricade herself inside. Then, she waited until the entrance changed again, and she could emerge back into the world she remembered. At least, that’s my interpretation of events.”

(MAG156, Adelard Dekker) “It was the third mirror that did it. The one that expanded him into a short, squat reflection caused no problems; neither did the one that bent him out of shape. But the third mirror, the one that squeezed him, made him thin, and gaunt… that was the one which took him. He outright refused to tell me exactly how he was pulled through it, but by the look in his eyes, I have no doubt it was a powerfully unpleasant experience – so much so that he claims to have lost consciousness. […] He then took what I consider to be his only sensible action in the entire affair: rather than running straight to the mirror which distorted him into a thin, angular figure, he took a moment to look at each one, and one of them showed no reflection at all. His next action of running full-pelt into it was perhaps less inspired, but it does seem to have been effective, since when he regained consciousness, covered in blood and broken glass, he was once again in the silent darkness of the abandoned Bright Lake amusement park he had made the unwise decision to break into.”

(MAG144, Gary Boylan) “I was passing by an old cheap metal barn when I heard it. I’d been listening to music as I walked, when my iPod abruptly cut out. I stopped where I was, and took it out of my pocket, assuming I’d knocked it or somehow turned it off. But the screen was on, apparently playing music, though I didn’t immediately recognise the song. I got a pretty sizeable music collection, but I feel like I do know it pretty well. This one had no artist, no album, just the track name: “Numbers”. […] I ran as fast as I could to the pylon, that ruined place that knew all of the numbers, and I fell to my knees and wept. I begged it to spare us, to spare me, as I stared at the flesh I knew would redden, and bubble, and blister away to the bone beneath. I didn’t need headphones to hear the numbers now. They were pouring from the air around me and threaded through my mind, and no matter how I begged, they would not stop.”

(MAG149, Judith O’Neill) “He shifted his leg, trying to keep his footing, but slipped on the now muddy ground, falling and pulling me with him. I instinctively grabbed Fernanda for support, but ended up pulling her down as well, the three of us tumbling down a short and muddy decline and landing hard in the foliage. It took a few moments to pull ourselves together. It wasn’t a huge fall? But I felt strangely disorientated as I clambered to my feet, shaking my head in an attempt to dispel some of the… mm, fuzziness, that had settled over it. The others clearly felt it too, although… checking ourselves over, it seemed we’d been lucky: all we had broken was our equipment. Although Dr. Anastas whined about that almost as much as if it had been a bone. I tried to get my bearings, but… even though we’d only moved a few meters laterally at most, I was finding it really hard to get a solid idea on where we were. I couldn’t figure out exactly which way we had come, and… I couldn’t get a clear read on the sun through the canopy and clouds. Fernanda wasn’t having any better luck with the compasses, as they were either broken, or something magnetic in the area was messing with them. They just generally span around and around. […] That was when I noticed how quiet it was. Aside from the rain, the jungle cacophony had… simply stopped. […] I don’t know how long we ran, but it was hours before we felt even remotely safe. The jungle looked normal again and, more importantly, it sounded normal.”

* The things from the other side marked the people who had escaped, and might be coming through our world because of them?

(MAG134, Adelard Dekker) “I may try to interview her again later, though I have my suspicions she may find herself disappearing. She has that… quality about her, I’m sure you know what I mean, o–of an unfinished meal. And I can only hope that when the second course starts, she can remember her way back to Garland Hillier’s apartment once more. But of course, the evidence suggests that, in the end, even he wasn’t able to.”

(MAG156, Adelard Dekker) “He told me, near the end, that he had recently been worried he was being followed. He keeps catching glimpses of a thin figure in the distance, or disappearing around a corner, and I can’t quite get past the detail that there was no reflection at all in the mirror he used to return. If my suspicions are correct, there’s little either of us could do for him; but do take care, should you make contact.”

Peter also insisted that The Extinction would be coming through from a particular point (“where”):

(MAG156) PETER: Well. There’s something at the centre, a… let’s call it a “device”. Now – our biggest problem with The Extinction is lack of information. We know it’s emerging, but we don’t know how, or where. MARTIN: And this… “device” will help. PETER: Yes…!

… and I’m a bit surprised by that because, so far, the only case of Fears coming through a specific space was during rituals carried out by their servants? So, The Extinction’s birth should require servants in the first place, and that should be the focus? Or are Fears actually tied to spaces and places, as Smirke used to believe? Yes, the Powers have strongholds, but those were created by avatars (and the Fears people felt, such as with the taxidermy shop) – so how could The Extinction come through at a singular, located point…? (Or is Peter absolutely wrong? Or is there a human-made punctual catastrophe approaching in their world, and that would be The Extinction’s cue to sneak in? Once again, Peter: where did you get the info and your theories about The Extinction being “active” and trying to annihilate the world, when the only statements Martin read were these ones…)

- I’m once again reminded of the Not!Them in the way “something” was pursuing Adelard’s statement-giver:

(MAG156, Adelard Dekker) “Oh – one more thing: if you do try to follow up with my source – and I know you have your own ways of finding him should you wish – please be careful. He told me, near the end, that he had recently been worried he was being followed. He keeps catching glimpses of a thin figure in the distance, or disappearing around a corner, and I can’t quite get past the detail that there was no reflection at all in the mirror he used to return. If my suspicions are correct, there’s little either of us could do for him; but do take care, should you make contact.”

And it’s still interesting to me that Adelard had been the one to bind the Not!Them to the table prior to his research about Extinction? The way The Extinction had been described in MAG134 had already reminded me a bit of the Not!Them:

(MAG134, Adelard Dekker) “This Fear is new. This is a fear of extinction. Of change. It used to be part of The End, perhaps, when The End of humanity was to be the end of all things; but now, the fear is not of a rapture or a revelation; it is of catastrophic change. A change in our world that will wipe out what it means to be “us”, and leave something else in its place.” […] PETER: The Extinction is… different. It’s active. It will seek to create a lifeless world, in a way that none of the other Powers ever would. Some interpretations suggest it might replace us with something new, that can then fear annihilation in turn. But I and those like me would rather that did not happen.

Although Not!Sasha admitted to being a creature from The Stranger (MAG079: “Once upon a time there was a monster, but no one realised. Sometimes someone did and then they were scared, so that was good. […] So the monster got its friends to carry the table all around, and it still got to take faces and scare people.”) – it specifically fed on the Fears of people noticing that someone they knew was now a stranger. And I still can’t help but feel like maybe Adelard was right on a new Fear emerging, but off in his description of it, of what it does and what it feeds from, mostly because his past experiences were colouring his interpretation…?

(Adelard acknowledged it could be the case in this episode, which, nice! But is it supposed to joss the idea that he could have been wrong, or precisely to introduce the idea that he was…)

- … I kinda hope that Adelard is not dead because the SOLIDARITY with Jon…

(MAG076) MELANIE: I was actually a meme for a day or two. … You… do know what that is, don’t you? ARCHIVIST: Yes, I know what a meme is. You were saying?

(MAG156, Adelard Dekker) “My young friend was specifically intending to use it as the site of a party they were planning to throw. Based on his description, I would have called it a “rave” but when I said so, he looked at me like I didn’t understand what he was talking about. […] He was very interested in the hall of mirrors. According to him, if it was still in good shape, it would have been an amazing place to put on a light show, and let his guests dance their way through the maze. Sounds like a good way to get injured to me, but apparently I used the word “rave” wrong, so what do I know.”

(Ahahaha, 36th episode of a season in both cases.)

I’m so glad that Martin got to read this statement because his voice can get SO nasal and petty in these occasions, and it was Beautiful.

(What was the thing, if not a “rave”, though? Was the guy only squinting because he wasn’t expecting Adelard to use the word? Because uh, if not a rave, what was it supposed to be? An orgy?)

- Confirmed by Word Of Jonny that that mention was indeed there to be heard as Adelard being religious and !!

(MAG156, Adelard Dekker) “I often find myself locked in a bit of an esoteric paralysis about how to proceed. Still. God grant me clarity to act when I need it.”

(MAG078, Lawrence Moore) “He was black, dressed in a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a thin necktie. For a moment I had the idea he might be a Jehovah’s Witness, but one look at his face dispelled that idea immediately. It was hard and stern, set in look of determination, and his short hair was iron grey. He was very thin, with aging skin stretched tight over wiry, corded muscle, and though he was slightly shorter than I was, it seemed like he towered over me. […] He told me his name was Adelard Dekker, and that he was an exorcist, of sorts.”

So maybe he didn’t just look like a Jehovah’s witness, but genuinely is one? Also aouch about the gnostic temple then:

(MAG156, Adelard Dekker) “Good job on that, by the way; I’m sure the gnostic temple was a great loss culturally speaking, but I can’t help but admire your directness when it comes to dealing with this sort of thing.”

Because I can’t tell if he was throwing shade at Gertrude about it and the fact she had destroyed a precious religious place… or was absolutely uncaring about it because it wasn’t his own religion.

- I feel like, as in with Eric’s accusations, Adelard was a biiiiiiiiit harsh (and fair) about Gertrude actually being way more Eye-aligned that we had been led to think in season 3?

(MAG154) ERIC: She didn’t try to keep me in the dark just so I wouldn’t stop being useful. She never made me complicit in a thousand nightmares, and lives ruined for the sick joy of some otherworldly voyeur. […] I know what you say, what you think you’re doing – saving the world one poor doomed soul at a time. I mean, I understand; I do! … But I couldn’t be a part of it. Not when I saw what happened to everyone else you involved. I had to get out, to escape this place. […] I’m sure you’ll find something… “neater”. A strong acid, precisely applied? That sounds more your style. If you decide to do it, that is. GERTRUDE: Nn, I, I–I don’t know… ERIC: No… It’s not an easy sacrifice to make, is it? GERTRUDE: I still have work to do. ERIC: Don’t you always.

(MAG156, Adelard Dekker) “You will forgive me if I withhold his name, as I have all the verification I need to be convinced he’s telling the truth, and I find it hard to believe any follow-up you’d be interested in doing would be beneficial for him. He’s earned his anonymity. […] Oh – one more thing: if you do try to follow up with my source – and I know you have your own ways of finding him should you wish – please be careful.”

The end of the letter was mostly about Gertrude’s safety, but still… Adelard mentioned shielding his witness from Gertrude, and that’s… something. Did she change her habits around the time she met Gerry (because he was Who He Was, or because she was more reluctant to serve The Eye now that The Watcher’s Crown was an identified threat), or was Gerry… not noticing that she was using her powers to that point…? Both Tim and Basira lauded Gertrude’s efficiency, but at the same time, we’ve been seeing a lot more of her terrible sides this season (Michael Shelley had been a huge one already, and we learned that she was planning to use Gerry to stop The Stranger, Eric mentioned her victims, Arthur was kept in place by her (how powerful and scary must have she been, to contain another monster?), and now we’re seeing Adelard relying on her but being wary of the harm she could do to others…)

(Also, Adelard had a tiny change of heart regarding Gertrude’s powers, between 2006 and 2009:

(MAG134, Adelard Dekker) “I have never envied you your position, Gertrude. I have never coveted your gifts, as I know the terrible costs that come with them. But honestly, trying to get a description of these… things, these “Inheritors” from Bernadette Delcour made me wish I could just pull the image from her lips, like you would have been able to.”

(MAG156, Adelard Dekker) “I do envy you your gifts sometimes, Gertrude. His account of their pursuit through the mirror-maze was so disjointed that I was honestly unable to follow it. Even after he tried to take me through it two, or even three times. Without The Eye’s clarifying influence, panic can make details… difficult to remember.”

Was it the frustration, pushing him to get a bit envious…? Three years is not a lot; had something happened to him in that timeframe…?)

- Ooooooooooh, so Martin actually followed up on his first interaction with a tape recorder this season:

(MAG126) MARTIN: You do you. Spool away, I guess. Just, you know, let me know if need some more batteries or something.

(MAG156) MARTIN: You know… I’ve been wondering about your batteries. Like, could I just take the batteries out each time one of you appears and just… have an infinite supply of batteries? I mean, I, I won’t, don’t worry. Don’t really have anything that needs them these days. … Also, I know there’s every chance you don’t even have any?, and it’s just empty, and… well… I’m not really sure that’s something I want to confirm.

(Gotta love how Martin went from benevolently offering assistance, to pondering out loud about harming. He did say that he wouldn’t do it, but… Martin. (By “love”, I mean: “I’m worried about Martin’s current state of mind.” But at the same time, I Understand, and the fact he’s not planning on doing it, and is just musing about it, is what matters. It’s a bit of a violent thought-process, but also a bit silly, carrying on with an idea that doesn’t serve any purpose. That’s so random. That really sounds like Martin?))

Isn’t it curious that he’s obsessing with those? … isn’t it a bit scary that the way the world “battery” has been used in season 4 was in the context of a “fear battery” (MAG135, Manuela Dominguez: “I never learned his name, never needed to; he was simply a battery. A ready source of constant terror I could draw on for my experiments.”). Are the tape recorders plainly powered by the scraps of Fears (or the static parts specifically?) of the statements or interactions we hear…?

- I’M SO SAD BUT SO GLAD THAT “MARTIN TALKING TO THE TAPE RECORDERS” IS STILL A THING…

(MAG098) MARTIN: Huh. Yeah, y’know, y’know what? A little privacy would be nice sometimes, okay? Not everything’s for you! You don’t need to listen to everything that we– … Alright, you know what? Y’know what… If you’re that eager, fine.

(MAG126) [CLICK–] [CLOCK IN THE BACKGROUND] [TYPING SOUNDS] MARTIN: [SIGH] Oh. Hello. Haven’t seen you in a while. [TYPING] … Really? I mean, it’s just admin. It’s not exactly thrilling listening. … Alright, fine. Whatever. You do you. Spool away, I guess. Just, you know, let me know if need some more batteries or something. [TYPING] … It’s because he’s back, isn’t it. [SIGH] He’s back, so now you’re going to be… around, again. Listening in. Mff. You missed him, didn’t you. … Yeah. … [VERY SHARP SQUEAL OF DISTORTION] Yeah, me too.

(MAG154) [CLICK–] [CLOCK TICKING IN THE BACKGROUND] [TYPING SOUNDS] [COMPUTER MOUSE CLICKING] MARTIN: Oh. Right. [CHUCKLE] Hello, again. [TWO CLICKS, TYPING RESUMES] Look, sorry pal, [SHORT LAUGH] false alarm this time…! [ONE CLICK] Oh, unless… [SIGH] [TWO AGGRESSIVE CLICKS] [TO THE ROOM:] Peter!

(MAG156) [CLICK–] [CLOCK TICKING IN THE BACKGROUND] [PAPER RUSTLING] MARTIN: Hm? … Oh. [CHUCKLE] Yeah. [PAPER RUSTLING] I was gonna read one. Hate for you to miss it! [CHUCKLE] [PAUSE] You know… I’ve been wondering about your batteries. Like, could I just take the batteries out each time one of you appears and just… have an infinite supply of batteries? I mean, I, I won’t, don’t worry. […] Still, kind of nice to talk to some… thing. [INHALE] It’s always… quiet, these days. For me, at least. […] I mean, if you’ve got any thoughts, I’d love to hear them. … Hm? [SILENCE] No – didn’t think so. [LONG INHALE] That’s not what you’re here for, is it? [SIGH] No. You want this. [PAPER RUSTLING] Fine. [LONG INHALE] Fine, have it your way. As usual.

He is the only one to humanise them and talk to them directly (… except for Tim’s “Alright. I don’t know what you are. I don’t even know if you’re listening; I don’t care. Just, if you’re there, I want you to know that I hate you. I hate you for, for witnessing what has happened to us.” in MAG117) – even Jon is talking to them in third person? Except for a tiny humorous bit in MAG132 (“You’re coming with me! [SHORT CHUCKLE] Let’s do this one properly.”).

On the one hand, I’m glad because it’s So Soft and please, allow Martin to have a pet (which would stay alive :|), and on the other hand, it’s so sad, because those are one-sided conversations and it shows how desperate he is…? It feels like tape recorders are supplying him with the only interaction he’s now able to feel some comfort in – one-sided things, without any answers, just him talking to the void and to something that wants something from him without giving anything in return. And now, he also… stopped talking to Jon through them, only addressing the item and the recording act:

(MAG138) MARTIN: I don’t know what Peter’s planning, but my–my guess is that it might involve something below the Institute. Hopefully, by the time you get these tapes, I’ll have something more concrete for you. [PAUSE] Good luck, Jon, I– … [HUFF] Stay safe.

(MAG142) MARTIN: I should probably try to get him this tape, let him know what happened, that someone came in to… But then, ahah, would that just come across as an accusation? Like, because I don’t wanna… And then, then I guess he’d… hear this bit as well, so… I… I… [LONG EXHALE] What do I do…?

(MAG156) MARTIN: Anyway. I know he’s been listening to the tapes so, [INHALE] I guess that’ll have to do. I think I still care that he hears my voice. It’s hard to tell, sometimes. How much do I actually care; how much is just feeling that I should care.

;; He used to address Jon directly… Though he did seem in plain control of the recording in MAG138, contrary to MAG156. I wasn’t sure about his comment above, at first, but given his slight surprise when he saw the tape recorder… aouch, I think it implies that Martin wasn’t planning to record his reading this time around, and to only leave the statements for Jon and the other…? Or at least, that he isn’t sure anymore that the fact that he would be the one recording matters. And that’s… just… so sad…

- Sssso Martin’s spontaneous suspects about what could be inside A Spooky Tape Recorder are:

Flesh, Corruption and Lonely. It makes a lot of sense, since the three of them (through Jared, worms, Peter) terrorised him:

(MAG131) JARED: When we came up through the floor, it was wonderful. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the look on their faces. It was like their world had gone with the floor. The weak one legged it, and I thought the skinny one did too.

(MAG022) MARTIN: I think I might have… lost my mind a bit, then. It all… feels very… strange, blurry. I–I remember stamping and stamping as–as more made their way under my doorway. I–I remember grabbing every towel, sock, bit of fabric scrap that I could find, stuffing them under the door, into the cracks around the window. Anything where a slender worm might crawl I made airtight. And then I sat there and waited.

(MAG039) TIM: Martin’s gone. ARCHIVIST: I’m getting to that. Martin has disappeared. Tim was right about there being fewer worms down here, but they are much faster. More aggressive. None of us have been hit yet but… during one of the more alarming encounters, Martin ran off. TIM: He thought we were behind him, I think. ARCHIVIST: He didn’t think at all.

(MAG108) PETER: Do I scare you Martin? MARTIN: Yes…! PETER: Hm. Probably for the best.

But I’m still squinting hard that one of the prime suspect should have been “spiders spinning inside”, and Martin, who loves spiders, who had specifically described Gertrude’s hidden room in the tunnels through an absence of webs (MAG040: “She was sat in a wooden chair in the middle of the room. No worms. No cobwebs. Just… an old corpse.”), didn’t raise that possibility, so MMMMMmmm…

- If Peter’s dying this season, I’m gonna miss him so much because he’s SO SHITTY…

(MAG156) MARTIN: [LONG SIGH] I just wish [VERY SHARP SQUEAL OF DISTORTION] Peter would finally get round to telling me what we’re meant to be doing about it…! PETER: Then I have– MARTIN: [SURPRISED YELP] [CHAIR CLATTERING?] PETER: –good news for you! MARTIN: Peter, we have talked about this! PETER: In my defence, it is still quite funny. […] Excellent. I’m so proud of you, Martin. MARTIN: I really don’t care. PETER: Perfect.

I really really hope that he’s genuinely confusing Martin’s snappiness towards him as a general rejection of people – to me, it still feels like Peter Remains A Special Case and that Martin personally doesn’t like him? Well. Has grown fonder of/a bit more dependent on him than planned, certainly, since Martin still thought he was better than nothing:

(MAG149) MARTIN: Peter hasn’t rocked up with some more… “insights”? Haven’t seen him around for a while, actually. I mean… eh, it’s not like I miss him [CHUCKLING] but, at least he was someone to– [PAUSE] … Ah. [HUFF] [PAPER RUSTLING] Yeah, that makes sense. [EXHALE] A’ight, fine. Just… me on my lonesome for a while, then.

(MAG151) MARTIN: I can’t. Peter’s the one with the plan, and… it needs me to be alone. BASIRA: And you don’t see anything suspicious about that? MARTIN: Of course I do! But it… might be the only way and… [INHALE] So far, at least, he’s been honest with me. Awful, but… honest. I need to do this. For everyone.

But I don’t think that, unless it’s about Peter’s skills/knowledge, Martin would feel sad if Peter were to disappear. (… Or would he?)

- And AOUCH for that textbook manipulation bit of… suddenly rushing things. They’ve been static for so long, and now, just because Peter has said so, they have to act quickly – so Martin has less time for planning.

(MAG154) MARTIN: [EXASPERATED INHALE] So. What’s the news? PETER: I think we’re finally ready! MARTIN: Great. And does that mean I finally get to know what we’re ready for? PETER: Yes! Well… for the most part. To a certain degree, you really need to see it for yourself. […] If you need more time… MARTIN: I don’t. PETER: … Good! Because I was going to say there probably isn’t any. MARTIN: If it’s been down there all this time, how come we haven’t found it? Jon explored the tunnels pretty thoroughly, and Leitner was down there a lot. PETER: It’s very difficult to reach if you don’t know exactly where you’re going. MARTIN: … And you do? PETER: I will. By tomorrow, I should have my hands on a map, and then… we go. [SILENCE] MARTIN: … Right.

* Martin gets some time, but I’m not sure he’ll leave an audio testament for the others (especially since Jon had discovered the previous tapes sooner than he had planned), just like the assistants had done in MAG117. But maybe a letter…? I’m not even sure he would bother, but…

* What was The Thing that would suddenly require them to hurry things through…? Is it that Jon has found a way for the assistants to leave The Eye? Is it that Jon is coming closer to a breaking point, withdrawal-wise? Is it that Peter actually fears Julia&Trevor? Is it that someone/something (Annabelle, Adelard?) is ready to make their move against the Institute? Is it to mess with Martin, since Martin sounds ready? Is it because the end of 2018 is slowly coming closer and Peter would still need to act before the end of the Institute’s anniversary year and/or they’re approaching the exact anniversary date of its foundation? Is it because Elias is on the verge of breaking free from prison, and Peter is scared of the consequences given how he Lonely’d a few staff members and made a mess of the scheduling…?

(- Ahahahah, and no mention of Trevor&Julia around Martin… does he even KNOW they threatened Jon and the others, and could come back any moment? Does Peter know? Will they mess up their plans down in the tunnels…?

No mention of Melanie either – did Martin read her letter? Did some spiders snatch it up before anyone could read it, or did Peter take it far from Martin’s sight…? There must have been a huuuge commotion at the Institute when Melanie was taken by the emergency unit, did Martin even notice…?)

- Regarding Martin’s… apathy? comfort in his isolation? We had been warned by Peter, and Martin had mentioned pretty often that he was growing accustomed to this situation, but with this episode…

(MAG156) MARTIN: Still, kind of nice to talk to some… thing. [INHALE] It’s always… quiet, these days. For me, at least. I guess I technically have the power to make it not quiet, to… to talk to people, but like… You know, I–I also have the power to clean out the fridge, and it’s still a mess. It’s not that I don’t want to clean the fridge, it’s just… Some things are just hard…! Anyway. I know he’s been listening to the tapes so, [INHALE] I guess that’ll have to do. I think I still care that he hears my voice. It’s hard to tell, sometimes. How much do I actually care; how much is just feeling that I should care. I’m on my own so much these days, I… just wish I didn’t like it so much.

IT’S PLAIN DEPRESSION, MARTIN ??? There was still no mention of Melanie nor of her letter, but… if he has read it, it might have contributed to the numbness (everything is fading, collapsing, Martin is on his own and the other assistants are not his friends, have never have been, and he doesn’t know them much). And gosh, it sounds like Jon was spot-on about it in “Cul-de-Sac” (well, at least about the part about Martin being hit hard by The Lonely; Jon’s examples were… kinda optimistic, compared to what’s happening with Martin):

(MAG150) ARCHIVIST: Statement ends. The Lonely is… possibly the most insidious of the powers, I believe. Certainly it is the one that… most delights in having you do its work for it. Even the Spiders seem to have a hard time matching it for sheer seductiveness. [HUFF] “Time to yourself”, “self-care”, “putting yourself forward”… “not being a burden on those you care about”… [PAUSE] It doesn’t even need to tell you any lies; just waits for the lies you tell yourself.

It just feels so bad and sad, that… Peter’s grooming might be working? That Elias, who had guided Peter in Martin’s direction, is winning by proxy? That Martin is taking refuge in something that feels comfortable and is self-destructive at the same time, in something that actually makes him miserable? He doesn’t seem happy nor at peace, it just seems like Actually Facing things outside of his self-imposed goal (stopping The Extinction, protecting the others from afar) had become scary and too difficult, too… It just feels extra-double bad given how Peter had been around and “tying” Martin up in the Extinction plot when Martin was apparently at his lowest:

(MAG118) ELIAS: Your mother. MARTIN: [BREATHES SHARPLY] ELIAS: She’s always been… “difficult”, hasn’t she? You take care of her for years, feed her, clean up after her and now, with her condition degrading even further, she is the one that asked to move into a home, to have it left to the nurses! She is the one that refuses your visits. MARTIN: Sh– she’s always been– ELIAS: Strong-willed? Stubborn? No. No, Martin; you know the reason. Your mother… simply hates you. You just don’t know why! It’s not your fault. Though I know that isn’t any consolation, it’s just bad luck, really. How old were you when your father left? Eight? Nine? When you mother began to sicken and he decided he was done with you both. Not old enough to remember him with any great clarity, especially when your mother refused to keep any pictures of him. She never recovered from that betrayal. He just tore her heart right out!, and took it with him. The thing is, though, Martin: if you ever do want to know exactly what your father looked like… all you have to do~ is look in a mirror~ MARTIN: [HEAVY BREATHING] ELIAS: The resemblance is quite uncanny: the face of the man she hates, who destroyed her life, watching over her; feeding her; cleaning her; looking down on her with such pity– MARTIN: [RAGGED] Shut! Up! ELIAS: Do you want to know what she sees when she looks a you? [STATIC INTENSIFIES] MARTIN: [STRANGLED BREATHING AND CRIES] [FOR LONG] [LONG] [STRANGLED SOBS] [STATIC FADES OUT] ELIAS: Don’t. burn. any more. statements.

(MAG120) ELIAS: Hello, inspector. Martin. I’m… sorry to hear about Tim. MARTIN: Don’t. ELIAS: And Daisy, I suppose. MARTIN: Don’t. you. dare. ELIAS: I suppose it’s some consolation Basira made it out. And Jon – more or less.

(Season 4 Trailer) MARTIN: We really need you, Jon. Everything’s… It’s bad. I–I don’t know how much longer we can do this. We– … I need you. A–and… I know that you’re not… [PAUSE] I–I know th–there’s no way to… [PAUSE] But we need you. Jon. Jon, please, just… Please. If–if there’s anything left in you that can still… see us, or–or some power that you’ve still got, or–or, or something, anything – please! … Please… [SHAKY BREATHING, STRANGLED VOICE] I… I can’t…

(MAG123) ARCHIVIST: You were attacked. … When? BASIRA: About two months ago. It was… it was The Flesh. ARCHIVIST: [MUTTERING] Oh god. BASIRA: Yeah, it was bad. We took them all out. Melanie did most of them. She was… she got a knife from somewhere and– ARCHIVIST: Basira, I… I don’t know if that’s a good sign…? BASIRA: … She saved my life, Jon. She saved all of us. I won’t forget that. ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] Fine… Fine. Haven’t seen Martin about yet? BASIRA: Yeah, he comes and goes. He’s busy. Well, he seems it. ARCHIVIST: Working for Peter Lukas. BASIRA: Don’t be too hard on him, Jon. Your, er… “situation”, it hit him. Hard.

(MAG134) PETER: Martin, this is what we agreed. After The Flesh attacked, you came to me. MARTIN: [SIGH]

(MAG127) BASIRA: … It was a few months back. After the attack. He’d started spending time with Lukas. At least, he said he was. And I wanted answers. He kept telling me to trust him, to hear the guy out even though he still wouldn’t actually show his face. I told him he could… drop me an email or vanish me. ARCHIVIST: … Right. BASIRA: Honestly, I kind of regret not just… grabbing Martin and shaking an explanation out of him. But I didn’t want to push it. He was in a… bad place, what with the attack and his mom and everything, so I didn’t press it. Now, I try and bring it up, he just… disappears. Nothing to be done. ARCHIVIST: So–sorry, you said… What happened with his mother? BASIRA: Oh, yeah. She died. About two months– ARCHIVIST: Oh… BASIRA: –after you, er… … Martin was… … He tried to stay strong. Keep it together but, that sort of thing… ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] BASIRA: [SIGH] Then those Flesh things busted in, and well, here we are! ARCHIVIST: … God. BASIRA: He didn’t tell you? ARCHIVIST: No…

(MAG129) ARCHIVIST: I, er… I heard about your mother. MARTIN: … Yeah. ARCHIVIST: I am… so sorry. [SILENCE] MARTIN: Thank you. [INHALE] It’s… [SHAKY EXHALE] It’s better, this way. ARCHIVIST: If–if you do need to talk, I– MARTIN: I can’t. ARCHIVIST: No. No, o–of course.

And ;; I know that there is probably not enough time left for this? But I still crave for Martin to actually talk about his feelings on what happened after MAG119 – having to bear with the knowledge that his mother hated him, learning about Tim’s death, witnessing Jon’s coma, seeing his mother die, all in the span of two months… Elias had already preyed on Jon and the assistants by binding them without their knowledge, by trapping Jon with a god he had never wanted or known about in the first place; but it feels even worse with Martin, given how he had to deal both with Elias’s actions and Peter’s looming over him, when he was specifically said to be vulnerable, when he was all alone, when he had lost so many people…? I want to hear Martin talk or scream about his feeeeliiiiiings, even if they’re dark and bitter and sad ;___; Let it go, Martin, please…

(- I’mmmm gonna be That Person (too) but I’m stubborn and I refuse to give up entirely on Web!Martin, or at least manipulative!Martin… ;;

I think, genuinely, that he might still be trying to double-cross Peter: not in the sense that Martin will try to get out of it alive, safe and sound (I think he’s absolutely going for a self-sacrifice), but in the sense that he is expecting Peter to have further plans, and is getting ready to pull Peter in the pit together with him as soon as an occasion arises. There has been a pattern in Martin’s way of checking his surroundings which, at least, screams to me that he has noticed how Peter operates, had been getting closer to Peter on purpose, and could be planning to get rid of the new threat just like he did the previous one:

(MAG134) MARTIN: [SIGH] [VERY SHARP SQUEAL OF DISTORTION] MARTIN: So that’s it, is it? PETER: It is!

(MAG138) MARTIN: So… so what? What does it mean? Am I supposed to be reassured that new Entities can be born? That there’s some, some kind of… precedent for The Extinction? … Peter? [SILENCE] Huh. Maybe he has gone to a party.

(MAG144) MARTIN: Statement ends. [CLEARS THROAT] [INHALE, EXHALE] … Right. Another… statement. Another side to… Peter’s “Extinction”. I think. I… Y– I– [HUFF] I, I couldn’t follow some of his reasoning, but I think it was about… nuclear weapons, or… or maybe doomsday’s weapons…? In keeping with the theme, I suppose. [ARTIFICIALLY AND POINTEDLY] I just wish Peter would spend less time trying to convince me his new power is real, and more time telling me what he plans to do about it…! [SIGH] … And where I fit in. I mean, fine, I guess, I belie– [KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.] MARTIN: [SHORT SHAKY INHALE]

(MAG149) MARTIN: Sort of… surprised Peter hasn’t rocked up with some more… “insights”? Haven’t seen him around for a while, actually. I mean… eh, it’s not like I miss him [CHUCKLING] but, at least he was someone to– [PAUSE] … Ah. [HUFF] [PAPER RUSTLING] Yeah, that makes sense. [EXHALE] A’ight, fine. Just… me on my lonesome for a while, then. … Could be worse. … Peaceful, at least. … I don’t miss all the shouting. [CHUCKLE] Even if it w– [FOOTSTEPS IN THE DISTANCE, COMING CLOSER] MARTIN: … Wait.

(MAG151) MARTIN: You–you know about that? BASIRA: Yeah. Jon found the tapes you made for him– MARTIN: SHH–SHH-SHH!! SHHHHH!!! BASIRA: [LOWER] Found a stash of them a while ago. I made sure he shared with the class. MARTIN: Oh, there you go, then!

(MAG154) MARTIN: Oh, unless… [SIGH] [TWO AGGRESSIVE CLICKS] [TO THE ROOM] Peter! [SILENCE] [INHALE] Look, Peter, I– [DOOR OPENS] ARCHIVIST: Martin! MARTIN: Oh, Jon! [DOOR CLOSES] God, don’t do that!

(MAG156) MARTIN: Another day, another Extinction scare. The more things change, I guess. [LONG SIGH] I just wish [VERY SHARP SQUEAL OF DISTORTION] Peter would finally get round to telling me what we’re meant to be doing about it…! PETER: Then I have– MARTIN: [SURPRISED YELP] [CHAIR CLATTERING?] PETER: –good news for you!

Martin knows that Peter can be around at any time, listening and spying on him. He panicked when Basira mentioned his tapes, and the fact they still went on with their discussion about Martin’s activities behind Peter’s back really wasn’t the smartest thing (what if Peter was spying them, at that moment, and just chose to keep watching without intervening? There is a huge chance that it was the case, and that Peter will throw it into Martin’s face down in the tunnels) – but also… Martin didn’t say anything “new” or compromising in that discussion. If Peter was listening to their exchange, Martin didn’t give him much reason to worry about his loyalty towards him and their project: after the mention of the tapes (which was Basira slipping), Martin only said that he disliked Peter, that he wanted to see their plan through, and acknowledged that he wasn’t planning on coming back (he only inquired about Jon, but… from afar). Same thing when Jon rushed to his office to explain to him about the eye-gouging, to the point that Martin firmly rejected Jon’s offer to elope together, and convinced Jon that Martin had been lost (MAG154: “… The Lonely’s really got you, hasn’t it?” “You know, I think it always did.”). Same with Daisy, in MAG144, which had shown Martin acting cold and biting, absolutely contrasting with MAG142… and the main difference was that, in the latter, Peter hadn’t shown up when Martin had expressed how lost he was and how he wanted to avoid confronting Jon, and that he didn’t care much about Daisy at that point.

I mean, it’s pretty clear that the Lonely “got” Martin, and that some of his ability to reach and be reached was deeply hurt in the process. But at the same time: Martin has understood that directly naming Peter, and snapping about him, tends to make him appear – and it feels so much like baiting Peter out? A way to get him in on Martin’s own terms? So given that he sounds like he’s extremely conscious of being under surveillance, potentially all the time, I’m not ruling out that he has been purposefully voicing some of his opinions in order to get on Peter’s good side. After all, it’s because they had observed Elias’s habits and how his powers operated that they had managed to trap him at the end of season 3; they already got rid of one Head of the Institute by manoeuvring around their weaknesses. So Martin could still be trying to repeat the same miracle, although sacrificing parts of himself in the process…?

As usual, doesn’t mean that it won’t go absolutely wrong but… At the very least, I don’t really see Peter&Martin acting as an absolute and undivided unit right now. Peter wants things from Martin, but the opposite is also true.)

- And so, we’re indeed heading towards Tunnels Stuff and it’s still a Mystery.

(MAG156) PETER: You know the tunnels, under the Institute? MARTIN: Ye–yes, I remember. PETER: Well. There’s something at the centre, a… let’s call it a “device”. Now – our biggest problem with The Extinction is lack of information. We know it’s emerging, but we don’t know how, or where. MARTIN: And this… “device” will help. PETER: Yes…! MARTIN: And I’m going to be the one to use it for you. PETER: I very much hope so. [PAUSE] If you need more time… MARTIN: I don’t. PETER: … Good! Because I was going to say there probably isn’t any. MARTIN: If it’s been down there all this time, how come we haven’t found it? Jon explored the tunnels pretty thoroughly, and Leitner was down there a lot. PETER: It’s very difficult to reach if you don’t know exactly where you’re going. MARTIN: … And you do? PETER: I will.

Helen had mentioned that there is something at their centre; Simon also thought that Peter wanted something specific in the Institute; Smirke had reminded Jonah that they had “constructed” something under Millbank, in the same statement in which he was warning Jonah against “wearing” The Watcher’s Crown…

(MAG152) ARCHIVIST: They could have spread all the way through these tunnels, but they didn’t. They didn’t find Leitner down here, didn’t find… Gertrude’s body. Didn’t find… whatever else is here. HELEN: It is a maze. One of the reasons I like it. ARCHIVIST: Mm. [SILENCE] … I can’t see things properly here. I thought it was just me, something interfering with my connection to The Eye, but… I’m wondering. Maybe it affects everything else. Like this place is some kind of… “universal blind spot”. Everyone gets lost, down here. HELEN: What a fascinating idea. Although… some of us are always lost, in a sense. ARCHIVIST: Wait– Are you saying you can navigate it? HELEN: Not exactly. But my door has been part of these tunnels for some time, now. ARCHIVIST: Wh– [SPLUTTERS] What’s it hiding, wh–what’s in the middle? HELEN: A delightful surprise…! [LAUGHS AND LAUGHS, ECHOING] ARCHIVIST: [SIGH]

(MAG151) SIMON: I don’t know the details. But I believe there’s something in the Institute that he thinks can help his cause. MARTIN: … And he needs me to use it. SIMON: Presumably – from what he said, it must be “powerfully aligned to The Watcher”. If he wishes to use it, it would need someone already touched by The Eye. And if he wants to control that someone… MARTIN: They need to serve The Lonely.

(MAG138, Robert Smirke) “I could not go easy to my grave without offering you one last plea for your restraint. What we built at Millbank should be left well enough alone, resigned to the nightmares of the reprobates and brigands contained within its walls. […] I am not a fool; I know well enough what this dream is likely to mean, and I warn you again that if you have any remaining ambitions to use our work, to try and wear The Watcher’s Crown, you must abandon them! Not simply for the sake of your own soul, but for that of the world!” […] MARTIN: I don’t know what he’s talking about when he mentions Millbank. The old prison, I guess? Tim said the tunnels under the Institute were all that was left of it, but… Jon said he’d checked them pretty thoroughly. [SILENCE] [SIGH] I’m not the one who knows all about this stuff…! I wish– … No. No, it’s fine, I’m… fine, I… [EXHALE] I can do this. I don’t know what Peter’s planning, but my–my guess is that it might involve something below the Institute.

And Martin was already suspecting that Peter was interested in the tunnels. (In the end, was that why Peter had given him Smirke’s letter to Jonah? Martin wasn’t sure why he had been given this one (MAG138: “So… so what? What does it mean? Am I supposed to be reassured that new Entities can be born? That there’s some, some kind of… precedent for The Extinction?”), and ended up assuming it was about Smirke’s typology, but the statement also had mentions of Smirke’s overall work and thought-process, to the point that Martin had nailed down that Peter’s interest probably lay with the tunnels under the Institute. So in the end, rather than proving to Martin that a new Fear could be birthed, maybe the main point of Peter handling Martin this statement was actually the tunnels themselves?

Peter didn’t seem absolutely firm on the word “device”, so I’m guessing that it’s a word which fits-but-doesn’t-really-fit, but what is iiiiit arrrg:

* An architectural structure based on Jeremy Bentham’s panopticon and actually designed by Smirke with Jonah Magnus’s help?

* The Watcher’s Crown, in a literal sense? (The two could be exactly the same thing; “watcher’s crown” could be the name of a structure… But Smirke had also warned Jonah not to “wear” it, so? What would be a thing that you can “wear”, physically or metaphorically speaking…?)

* Something something “crown” and “(an eye’s) corona” having the same root.

* The camera that Salesa had retrieved in MAG141’s statement? (If the tape recorder had clicked on for this statement and not for Jon’s previous four victims, then it means that this one contained something more important to their eyes (… to their plastic gears?); was it only because it was tied to Salesa, a recurring figure until now? Or was it specifically trying to nudge Jon in the direction of the camera?)

* It’s A Metaphor, The “Device” Is Jon Himself (but why specifically in the tunnels, then? Would he need to be afar from The Eye, since Jon was feeling weird down there?)

* The Not!Them? Leitner had reckoned it was trapped in the tunnels, probably not dead… It was powerful enough to rewrite a part of reality (and people’s memory), could it damage The Extinction in the same way…?

* A tomb, à la Schwartzwald, which may or may not have been (re)created thanks to the books Jonah had stolen from Albrecht? The tomb of Jonah himself? (Can’t be Albrecht’s body since Jonathan Fanshawe had burnt it, nor Barnabas’s since Elias said his bones were in his office…)

No idea, I’m mostly guessing that I’ll groan heavily and go “OF COURSE, URK” when it’s revealed. We still don’t know what the tunnels are, why “DIG” guy was feeling something focused on them, why Jon and Daisy felt so off while down there:

(MAG088, Enrique MacMillan) “so here I came. To tell my story, of course, but another thing as well; cold, empty and calling. There’s something here, you see. Something to be dug up, rooted out, buried within. A hollow space that all eyes point towards. And I intend to reach it, if my fingers don’t give out first. I know where to dig.” MARTIN: Uh, um, the, uh, the statement ends rather abruptly there. Based on a few scattered notes and accounts from some of the older staff, it sounds like Mr. Macmillan got in a bit of a fight, which led to his arrest, and the replacement of quite a bit of the floor in Jon’s office. There are still a couple of boards with marks on them that I’d always hoped weren’t fingernail scratches, but I guess…

(MAG120) ELIAS: He catches a glimpse of an advert above his seat: [STATIC INTENSIFIES] “DIG”.

(MAG114) ARCHIVIST: You alright, Daisy? DAISY: [NONCOMMITAL SOUNDS] BASIRA: Don’t think either of us like it down here. ARCHIVIST: Uh, well, no, me neither. Feels… DAISY: Empty. ARCHIVIST: Yeah.

And there is one more thing that’s still a bit weird, related to Martin’s discovery of Gertrude’s body:

(MAG040) ELIAS: Martin finding her body in the tunnels is as much a mystery to me as it is to you.

(MAG040) MARTIN: I wandered for a while. It’s a, it’s a maze down there, Jon. I don’t know how far the passages go. Maybe miles. I think it must be the old Millbank Prison, like Tim was saying before. I even found some stairs at one point, but I really didn’t want to go down them. […] I wanted to get out of there. I was looking for a way up, but it felt more and more like I was trapped. Every turn just led me to another empty corridor. When I finally found a door, I thought it might actually get out, but instead… It was a small room. Square. There was dust on everything. Cardboard boxes were piled around. They were full of old cassette tapes. ARCHIVIST: That’s where you found her? […] Could you find the room again? MARTIN: I don’t know. Maybe. The police certainly expect me to, although I got the feeling they’re not too keen to explore the tunnels either.

(MAG041) ARCHIVIST: This place, it felt more organic in its unpredictability, as though it had been intended to be used, to be travelled, but had gotten twisted somehow. I found spaces that seemed intended as rooms but without doors. Elsewhere, there were doors that seemed simply attached to the walls. Most of these were firmly shut, though some opened to reveal the flat grey stone behind. Only a handful I opened had actual rooms behind them, and in every case I found myself wondering whether that was where Martin had found her. There was no way to tell. Even when the police finally found Gertrude’s body, they took it, chair and all, as well as all the tapes.

“No cobwebs” in Gertrude’s room; the police had some trouble finding her again, Jon wasn’t sure he would be able to, and Leitner didn’t mention anything to imply knowledge of Gertrude’s body being somewhere in the tunnels; and it was still… well-preserved enough for Martin to recognise her on sight? Now that I think about it, is the fact that Martin was somehow able to find Gertrude’s body the main reason why Elias threw him in Peter’s direction…? (Martin said he was terrified, when he was running. Was it “thanks” to his fears that he pushed through…?)

(It’s still so mysterious that, if it’s supposed to be The Eye’s place of ritual, Jon feels that his powers/his connection to The Eye are tampered with in there? If Smirke was aiming for a neutral ground, how did he manage to not make it an Eye stronghold while at the same time constructing something that could use The Eye’s powers?)

This is so exciting, because the tunnels have been part of the story for so long…! The worms had actually been there for a while during the second half of season 1, before they began to pour out when the spider made Jon notice their presence behind the wall (MAG038); it’s where Tim&Jon&Martin briefly took shelter (MAG039), and where the worms attempted to build their portal; it’s where Martin was revealed to have discovered Gertrude’s body (MAG040); Jon began exploring them all through season 2 (starting MAG041); it’s where Not!Sasha ultimately tried to kill him (MAG079) before Leitner stepped in to save him; it’s mostly where Leitner had been hiding for six years (MAG080); it’s where the assistants began to clearly scheme against Elias in season 3 starting with MAG103; it’s how Tim was navigating in and out of the Institute while avoiding everyone (MAG114); it’s where Jon and Basira removed Melanie’s bullet (MAG125); where Helen was revealed to have trapped Jared (MAG131); and Jon has been coming down there recently again (MAG152)… They’ve been with us for so long, it feels a bit surreal to finally (maybe) get more information about what they are, what the intent behind their creation was, and what they could do…?

- Other obvious question is: what is the map Peter intends on getting, and how will he get his hands on it? In order of Least to Most cursed:

* It’s… extremely interesting that we already got a similar configuration with many of the elements that are currently relevant, with The Great Twisting: an expedition to stop an apocalypse, Peter Lukas being there, a map showing the way although the place should be full of deceit:

(MAG101) MICHAEL: Even when they arrived in Dikson, at the edge of the Kara Sea, and they were picked up by a quiet sea captain called Peter Lukas… Even then he trusted her. […] There was a great evil, she said, and Michael was going to help her fight it. […] But Gertrude Robinson had given poor, disposable Michael one more thing before sending him to me. She had given him a map. I couldn’t say how she would have gotten such a thing, or if she somehow made it. And yet it was a map. A map to me. It made no sense, lines overlapping and inverting, but once within, Michael knew which turns to make, which doors to open, which mirrors to shatter. Until he became me.

… and the presence of the Distortion.

We still don’t know how/where Gertrude had obtained that map – if it’s never ever relevant again, I will keep assuming it was a random, inconsequential map (and that what mattered was that Michael Shelley thought it would give him a direction, because he trusted Gertrude), but it’s still an open question at this stage. Interesting things in current events: the Distortion is currently (not) identifying as “Helen”, and Helen Richardson was good with maps, due to her profession (she had been able to draw one for Jon in MAG047); and we don’t know who sent Jared after “the Archivist”/the archival assistants, but the Distortion popped right at that moment to save them, and that event was apparently what led to Martin finally agreeing to collaborate with Peter in exchange for the others’ protection. Given how Michael-the-Distortion had called itself “the throat of delusion incarnate” and how Leitner had mentioned one of his assistants was calling it “esmentiaras” (… “es mentira”/“es mentiroso”?)… there could still be some backstabbing from the Distortion behind Jon’s back, whether it’s for fun or because it’s trying to play all the others, as a revenge against The Eye and The Lonely collaborating to counter The Great Twisting back then…? Or would that be too “coherent” for it…?

* Salesa has many spooky items, and he’s gonna be revealed to be a provider of maps too.

* Leitner’s spooky copy of The Seven Lamps of Architecture, which he had himself used to change the tunnels. Given that Leitner got pipemurder’d, Elias probably got his hands on the book?

* A map done by Tim, because Martin mentioned Leitner and Jon, but we know that Tim had also been navigating through the tunnels, and he was the most familiar with Smirke’s work – something that Martin himself had acknowledged this season in MAG138. (And also: because I miss Tim, and because I’m still so ??? that he has barely been mentioned at all this season, especially compared to how Sasha had been such an open wound in season 3…?)

* Elias had one that had been directly created by Smirke, stored somewhere in the Institute, and either tipped Peter about it, either Peter found it on his own?

* RELATEDLY, I would invite Patreons to reread the Artefact Storage Inventory that was provided as a bonus, because UHM, that first item? sounds absolutely like a miniature/reproduction of the tunnels reflecting what is happening to them?! (Down to the details of the carcasses – the report is dated from the end of 2016 so… after Prentiss’s attack.)

* Peter going to see Jon asking him to “Know” about the tunnels’ architecture, insisting heavily that Martin might die if he gets lost inside of them? (And giving his own statement as a restorative.)

* Adelard Dekker, at last? I still really don’t think that Peter and him were friends, though (/and if someone has killed Adelard, my bet is that Peter was responsible for it).

* Annabelle popping up to provide direction? Tough Peter didn’t seem to be in touch with The Web much (he wasn’t sure why they didn’t have a ritual, and he was wary of Martin having been influenced by ~something~, in MAG134).

* They’re in the tunnels, Martin is snapping snappily at Peter about the lack of direction, rants about the fact that of course, Peter didn’t bring any map in the end, and surprise!Elias pops up in the corridor, “I am Map.” (Martin screams and it’s heartbreaking because he has thrown Elias in prison, only for Elias to reveal that he could come out whenever.)

* You know who was good at finding his way (out)? MAG100’s dinner guy. He comes back to lead the way. With his DOG. Martin gets his feelings back and cries; meanwhile, somewhere in the Archives, Basira shudders and suddenly wants to scream.

- And what fate is supposedly awaiting Martin…? Martin was expecting a self-sacrifice, Peter finally confirmed that it would be in a way that is not lethal:

(MAG126) MARTIN: … When all this is over, I’m telling him everything, with or without your permission. PETER: Martin… when it’s over, you won’t want to. MARTIN: … Mm. PETER: But he will be safe. They all will. MARTIN: … Yeah.

(MAG138) ELIAS: But no. This is too important for me to jeopardise with cheap “mindgames”. I simply have to trust that when the time comes, you’ll make the right choice.

(MAG151) BASIRA: You’re not expecting to come out of this, are you? MARTIN: … I’ll do what I have to. If I’m right… no one else needs to get hurt. [SILENCE] BASIRA: [SIGH] … Okay. You want to do whatever “grand sacrifice” you think is going to save everyone, go ahead. But you’d best be sure you’re not just playing their game. MARTIN: I know what I’m doing. BASIRA: We’ll see. [PAUSE] Don’t make me regret this. MARTIN: Yeah… [PAUSE] Don’t… tell Jon. [SILENCE] Please.

(MAG156) MARTIN: Will I be coming back? PETER: You’re not going to die, if that’s what you’re asking, but… no. If all goes well, you won’t be. MARTIN: [LONG INHALE, EXHALE] PETER: How does that make you feel? MARTIN: … Nothing. [SNORT] Nothing at all…!

What is a thing that could mean “not coming back”…? Is it metaphorical, and related to the idea that Martin would die and not come back as the same (kind of what was expected for Jon between season 3 and season 4)…? Is it physical? And then, what would it mean: that Martin will get sealed in The Lonely together with The Extinction? That he’ll be stuck Beholding it as long as he can, inside of a panopticon? That he would be freed from the Archives in another way, and would be cut off from The Eye? That he would leave with Peter for unknown reasons? … Or is it a bit more bastardly from Peter, and actually related to the fact that he’ll reveal to Martin at the last moment that Martin has to do something terrible to stop it, and that the “not coming back” would be because Martin would be too crushed and ashamed to want to come back…? (Maybe the “right choice” according to Elias doesn’t necessarily mean following Peter’s ideas, as long as they take care of The Extinction?)

On the one hand, we got maaaany signals introducing us to the idea that no, Martin is done for – kinda like we had gotten with Tim, and there was no subversion for Tim, it didn’t prevent Tim from indeed dying just as announced. On the other hand, I really don’t “feel” like we’re absolutely saying goodbye to Martin right now…? But how could Martin “come back” after all of this, indeed, and go back to being an assistant, or close to Jon…? (At the same time, I would be super interested in seeing that!! ;; Martin coming back from his awful experience, and being barely able to communicate with other people without snapping or rejecting them instinctively, and still not being fine around people… but gradually learning to manage a bit again (before the end of season 5 would hit even harder.)). (I also doubt that Jon would keep holding on for very long, if Martin disappears, so it would mean losing our two main leads in one go…? It’s still a possibility, but I’m really not sure.)

The Web has been watching, at the very least, so it could hijack whatever Peter is planning for himself and The Lonely while still slowing down The Extinction if that’s in its interests too… I still like to think that the Spiders have a grudge against Peter for taking Brian, and what better way to get their revenge than to thwart Peter’s plan and/or snatch Martin right under his nose?

37th episode of past seasons: Jon being dead-set on keeping the table that would kill Sasha two episodes later (season 1), Jon listening to Gertrude’s tape labelled “Changeling/Imposter” because Melanie had made him suspicious of Sasha in the previous episode, and beginning to realise that Sasha might have been killed, leading to their confrontation (season 2), the Archives team’s statements/testaments, including Jon’s decision to “trust” them despite it all (season 3), a few days before they would head off towards The Unknowing… So ;; Could be a “breather” before action, could be the beginning of action itself in this one.

MAG157’s title is… very broad? Statement-wise, it obviously screams Corruption, but I’m also reminded of how The Lonely seemed corrosive on the Tundra…? It would also fit for, let’s say, another of the letters describing Jonah Magnus’s activities, I guess (whether it’s nailing down his personality, or whether it’s mostly assumptions). There is also Raymond Fielding that that Web apple…?

It’s the second meaning I’m mostly curious about, because it could be referring to so many things. A place: the Institute or the tunnels themselves? The entities, the Eye in particular? A body filled with eyes (again)? A person meeting that description: and then we would have many to pick from (Jonah Magnus, since it calls back to Jon’s conclusion about his character after MAG127’s statement; Peter; the Lukas family overall; Gertrude; Elias himself, since Jon had snarked about this too in season 3…?)

#1 #2 #3 #4 #5 #mag156 #the magnus archives #tma season 4 #tma liveblog

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nelvana · 6 years ago

Text

In which the tower of the sky is explored

First: In which the human is transformed Next: In which the god of the sky is fought Previous: In which the gardevoir speaks to the human once more

“Keahi, Tsuki, there’s something you need to know.”

Pushing past her disappointment of waking up before finishing her sentence, Nelvana got up and headed down the stairs to join the others. The smell of breakfast wafted up to the second floor, letting her identify the scent of the full meal before even seeing it. This warm and sweet aroma did nothing to rid her of her stress, however, and as she cued in to listen to the conversation downstairs, her stomach flopped as she realized Alex had started telling the others the news about the future without her.

“You’ll w-what?”

Nelvana paused about halfway down the stairs, her silent footsteps having not alerted the others to her presence yet. Regardless, she appeared to have had convenient timing in entering this discussion, as Alex had finished explaining the issue, leaving just the reaction to work through.

“Does Nel know?”

“Yes, I told her last night, before we went stargazing. It was my decision to wait to tell you, so you wouldn’t have to sleep on it.”

Keahi stared ahead, her eyes already clouded, filled with emotion. She was standing in front of the counter, her back now turned to it as she focused on the conversation. Alex was standing across from her, his expression somber. There was a stool right behind him, but he hadn’t even pulled it out from under the island table. Tsuki was to his right, her back to the stairway. Nelvana couldn’t make out her expression from her angle, but she could see the absol’s muscles tense under the long fur.

“I-Is there something we can do to stop this from h-happening?” Keahi asked.

“I spoke to Gardevoir about it,” Nelvana spoke up.

The trio spun around to look at Nelvana in surprise, and even Alex flinched at the unexpected voice from the stairway. Now having announced her presence, she walked down the rest of the stairs to join the others in the kitchen area. She pulled out a stool beside Tsuki, and hopped atop it.

“Nel! You’re up!” Keahi exclaimed, hopping closer to her partner. “Alex said…”

Nelvana sighed, “yeah… and it’s true, if that’s what you’re wondering,” she replied, “I spoke to Gardevoir about it, and she’s going to try to get one of the legendaries to help us.”

“Really? So, you’ll get to stay here? That’s great!” Keahi leapt forward now, hopping up onto the stool with Nelvana to the best of her ability. “I don’t want you guys to leave…” she murmured, nuzzling her head to her partner’s chest.

“Yeah, none of us do…” Alex responded, “it’s good that Gardevoir agreed, let’s hope she’s successful.”

Tsuki nodded in agreement, but didn’t add on her own comment to the ending conversation, simply giving a soft smile to the new addition to what had felt like hopeless news.

“Either way,” Alex continued, “we’re going to do this.”

“Of course,” Nelvana agreed, wrapping an arm around Keahi to help keep her partner balanced on the stool with her.

Keahi exhaled, “yeah.”

“Do you think the teleport gem will be complete by now?” Tsuki asked, stretching and standing back up.

“I think Xatu was supposed to let us know when,” Alex answered, “lets us have time to breakfast, at least.”

Keahi let out a hum of agreement, slowly squirming away from Nelvana and hopping back down to the ground to continue making their morning meal. The cubone paused for a moment, before following her partner to the counter to help her with the cooking. Alex let out a sigh, a thin smile appearing on his expression for the first time on that morning, and he finally pulled out the stool behind him to sit down. Tsuki stood around for a moment, her eyes narrowed in a pensive state before she padded over to see if she could assist with breakfast as well.

“I guess there would be no harm in going to the Hill of the Ancients now,” Nelvana announced at the end of their meal, turning their conversation from simple tabletop small talk, back to business. “We can at least hang around there and wait for it to be finished. They should be close to done soon anyway,” she continued.

“Good point, might as well get ourselves ready and out there,” Alex agreed.

“O-Okay! I’ll contact the B Squadron then, they wanted to be there to send us off at least,” Keahi chirped.

“We still have everything prepared from last night, correct?” Tsuki asked, pausing for confirmation before continuing. “Then I’ll be waiting outside,” she finished, stepping away from the others and out the door.

Alex was the next to head outside, and while Tsuki was patiently sitting beside the mailbox for the others, he went around the back of the house, looking around the area underneath the window on Nelvana and Keahi’s side of the bedroom. The other two exited the house soon after, and after expressing confusion about the grovyle’s disappearance, Tsuki lead them over to join him at the back of their property.

“Hey Alex, what’re you doing over here?” Keahi asked, approaching their teammate closer.

“I believe… we had a trespasser last night,” Alex muttered, taking careful steps around the grass.

“We did,” Nelvana confirmed.

Tsuki’s fur bristled, “we did? And on the rare night I actually sleep… of course…” she huffed.

Alex spun back around to look at Nelvana, “you did notice it? I thought you were asleep, talking to Gardevoir?” he questioned.

“Yeah, I was. And whoever our intruder was, was using dream eater,” Nelvana answered, crossing her arms. “They didn’t get anything though, thank Arceus. Psychic shield saves the day again,” she added, “gave me a headache though…” she muttered under her breath, too quietly to be heard by the others.

Keahi let out a sigh of relief, “well, that’s good at least. But someone really broke in? And only Alex was able to wake up to search around? That isn’t the best security…” Her voice ended back to disappointed.

“Well, it doesn’t help that Nel was in dream space and on the rare occasion Tsuki sleeps, she sleeps deep,” Alex commented, still searching around through the grass. “Plus, we did a lot in the day. I was only up because I’m used to being more alert in the night.”

Nelvana let out a dry chuckle, “yeah, looks like it was a rough night for all of us,” she said.

Before anyone else could say anything, Alex suddenly let out a cry of triumph, reaching into the grass and pulling out a torn purple patterned scarf. It was mostly a dark violet, but there were some lighter stripes of lavender zig-zagging across it.

“A scarf?” Nelvana responded, stepping closer to look at it. “Ugh, smells like Gengar. Looks like we found the culprit.”

“Gengar? Again?” Keahi groaned, following her partner over to Alex.

“Can’t say I’m too surprised,” Alex chuckled, “haven’t seen him with this before though…” he muttered, “hey Tsuki, you probably have the best nose out of all of us, wanna take a sniff to confirm our suspicions?”

Tsuki nodded, joining the others circled on the back lawn. She leaned over to the fabric Alex was holding out, and her nostrils flared as she took a quick sniff of the scent still lingering. Cringing, she stepped back again, wrinkling her muzzle in disgust.

“Yeah, that’s Gengar,” Tsuki hissed, “this thing reeks of his disastrous scent.”

“Looks like a mobile scarf. Let’s the user walk through walls,” Keahi commented, “…which honestly makes things more confusing. Why would he be carrying around a mobile scarf? He’s a ghost-type.”

Alex laughed again, “maybe he never learned how to actually use his abilities. Disappointing,” he sneered, “anyway, I doubt he’s coming back for this, and it looks pretty useful. We should hang onto it.”

“Yeah! They’re really rare, I’ve only ever seen one before now. Probably not worth as much since it’s torn, but it would still work,” Keahi added.

“What’s the catch?” Tsuki questioned, “I know how these scarves work, they have their downsides to go along with the strengths given to the user.”

“Uh… I think you get hungrier when you use it?” Keahi replied, “I’m not actually sure. No one really talks about the downsides when selling them, that’s for sure.”

“Of course, it’s a business strategy. Let your customers know something is wrong with the product and they’re less likely to buy it,” Alex said, “we’ll just have to figure this thing out later. Let’s get going.”

Stuffing the scarf away in the bag, Alex bushed his hands off each other before leading the way down the path. He was eventually passed by Nelvana and Keahi, who had been to the Hill of the Ancients before. The distance, of course, hadn’t changed from the last time they had gone out this way, but compared to their recent expedition, this few hours walk felt much shorter than it really was. The rocky scenery, however, was still just as beautiful as they remembered, and once again they paused a couple of times to properly show Alex and Tsuki the sights as well.

“Hey, I forgot to ask this before, but what was Gardevoir’s message, anyway?” Keahi asked Nelvana, the pair watching as their teammates explored, only a few feet away.

“Oh, it… She wanted to tell me that she was actually who turned me into a pokemon, and probably gave me amnesia,” Nelvana answered, swinging her club to rest on her shoulder.

“What? Really?” Keahi blurted out.

Alex looked back at the pair, “what?” he questioned curiously, approaching them.

“Yeah, it was Gardevoir,” Nelvana nodded, “she believed a human was needed to save the world, and when I showed up…”

“But how?” Keahi responded.

“Ninetales offered some of her power to her. And considering Ninetales could turn Shinobi into a pokemon, it kinda makes sense that it was her that gave Gardevoir that power,” Nelvana continued, “Gardevoir didn’t expect the amnesia to happen though. The theories currently are that it was either a side effect that Ninetales failed to warn her about, or just… not being able to use that sort of power properly for whatever reason.”

“Ah, that does make sense, actually,” Tsuki, who had wandered over to join the conversation as well, commented, “Ninetales is a being of incredible power, all contained in those tails of her’s. She must have sacrificed some of her power for Gardevoir to use for you.”

“Huh, I guess so…” Alex muttered, “something about that doesn’t sit well with me… but I guess there’s no sense on dwelling on it now. It’s good that we finally know that now,” he sighed, “let’s get back on track here, shall we?”

Nelvana nodded, heading back on the path again. The others followed swiftly, and they continued on their way, conversation bouncing around, lingering on the topic of the dreams before shifting back to mission plans.

Their easy journey was cut short when Xatu got in contact with Keahi through telepathy, informing them that the teleport gem would be completed soon. They group picked up the pace, clearing the dungeon on the way and making the rest of the way to the warm canyons where the psychics were gathered.

Xatu and Alakazam stood side by side at the edge of the cliff. Xatu standing tall and straight, his back turned to the entrance to this cliff, looking off in the distance, like Keahi and Nelvana had seen him in the first visit. Alakazam was hunched beside him, his right arm wrapped up in bandages from his previous battle. He turned to look as the quartet arrived, while the other remained idle.

“Ah, you’ve arrived,” Alakazam murmured.

“Alakazam! Er, how are you feeling?” Keahi greeted, eyeing the bandages.

“I am… doing alright,” Alakazam replied, shifting his arm slightly in displeasure.

Now Xatu turned to face the group, his expression solemn, eyes carrying an unusual tiredness. But his beak curved up to a smile seeing Team Galaxy, and he approached the rescuers.

“It is good to see you two again, and with allies. That will be beneficial,” he hummed, “an absol? It has been many years since I have seen one of your kind. I am honored to see you to be joining us in preventing disaster.”

Tsuki blinked, her eyes widening in surprise at the compliment before settling back down in a polite smile, “thank you, Xatu. I am glad to help.”

“So, the gem is ready then?” Alex asked.

Xatu nodded, “indeed, it is. Our task was made simpler from some assistance we received.”

“Some assistance?” Keahi repeated, tilting her head to the side.

From deep in the canyons, a small, pink pokemon suddenly flew out, flipping in the air before fluttering down to the others with an excited grin stretched across her freckled face.

“Surprise!”

“Ceebee!” Alex exclaimed, his face lighting up at the sight of this new arrival.

Ceebee giggled, and dove at the grovyle for a hug. Alex easily wrapped his arms around the smaller pokemon, while she simply buried herself into his embrace. The pair didn’t stay locked together for long, and Alex let his friend flutter back into the air.

Nelvana watched them curiously, finding herself recognizing Ceebee in the same way she had recognized Alex when she had seen him in Pokemon Square many days ago now. Alex had told her about their third group member briefly; the shiny celebi they had befriended to help in their mission. He hadn’t said that much about her though, and he certainly had never bothered to bring her up to their other teammates. It felt odd, that despite recognizing her friend, she knew that if Alex hadn’t mentioned her at all before, she couldn’t have even known the celebi’s name.

“I told you I’d be back, didn’t I?” Ceebee teased, “where’s Nel? And who are your new friends?” she questioned.

“I’m here,” Nelvana responded, raising her hand and waving it slightly before stepping closer to Ceebee.

Ceebee let out a gasp, looking over the cubone, and then a squeal before diving in for a hug, with Nelvana this time. Nelvana was taken aback for a moment, but found herself quickly relaxing with the mythical pokemon and returning the hug. They lingered a bit longer than the last hug, but not by much, and they let each other go again. Ceebee didn’t go far this time though, and placed her hands on the sides of Nelvana’s skull.

“Wow! You’re a cubone now!” Ceebee exclaimed, “I almost didn’t notice it was you! But your soul is still the same!” she continued, letting go of Nelvana and beginning to fly around her. “How did this happen?” she asked.

“Uh… kind of long story?” Nelvana replied, shrugging awkwardly. “But, uh, a Gardevoir was given the power to turn a human into a pokemon, because she knew the meteor was coming and thought a human was needed to stop it, so she used the power on me,” she explained, “…and it kinda backfired.”

“Backfired?” Ceebee repeated, pausing in the air and glancing at Alex before looking back at Nelvana.

“She has amnesia,” Alex sighed, “she still recognizes us, and she’s still the same, like you said. And I already recapped her on everything. But…”

“Oh…” Ceebee’s smile fell slightly.

“I-It’s okay though!” Nelvana assured her, her grip tightening on her club slightly in anxiety. “Alex is right… but he’s also right that I recognize you, and I know we were friends, and… and I’m really glad to see you again, Ceebee.”

Ceebee paused, thinking silently for a moment, before smiling again and nodding, “alright. Sorry if I seemed doubtful there, Nel! It’s good to see the both of you again, really. I missed you guys,” she said, “actually, if you’d like, I can see if I can bring back your memories!” she suddenly exclaimed.

“Really?” Keahi blurted out, forgetting that she hadn’t actually been introduced to this new arrival yet. “Wait, are you the one making their psychic shields then?” she added.

Ceebee looked back at the other two teammates, “yes, that would be me! My psychic abilities aren’t the best, I must admit, but clearly it did its job nicely even with the distance!” she chirped, “I should be able to recover your memories, it depends on how much they were affected by another psychic-type,” she continued, turning back to Nelvana.

Nelvana blinked, the thought of actually being able to remember her past again rushed up to her, “it would be great if you could try,” she replied.

Alex nodded quickly in agreement, and so Ceebee approached Nelvana again, this time gently pressing her hands against the cubone’s forehead. Before Nelvana could ask if it would be easier if she removed her headgear, she could feel the presence of the celebi in her mind. It was an unusual feeling, and she almost instinctively tried pushing it away the force prodding in her head. But she tried forcing herself to stay calm instead, knowing who this was, and that it was okay... It didn’t last for too long, and the presence disappeared as Ceebee backed away again.

“I’m sorry… this looks to be some sort of effects from a curse,” Ceebee told them, “an indirect effect… but I still can’t get through it,” she murmured, and then offered a small smile again. “On the bright side, it seems to be a short-lasting one. A lot of it has already started to fade from its original effect.”

Nelvana couldn’t help but feel disappointment sink in, and then disdain at herself for letting her hopes get up so easily. Taking a moment to glanced at the others, she realized from their expressions that they had felt the same way. Everyone had been hoping that Nelvana could get her memories back.

“It’s alright,” Nelvana sighed, “I mean, it was worth a try. I’m no worse off than I was a few minutes ago anyway,” she assured, “we should probably move on anyway… These are our teammates, Keahi and Tsuki!”

“Oh! Teammates?” Ceebee repeated, obliging the idea to change focuses and looked over at the torchic and absol. “It’s nice to meet you two! I’m Ceebee the celebi, Nel and Alex’s friend!”

“The celebi?” Keahi repeated.

“Yup!” Ceebee giggled, “that’s me!”

“You’re… kinda small,” Keahi commented, freezing as she realized what she had said. “N-Not that that’s bad or anything! I just… wasn’t expecting it? I’ve read about you before, or I guess your kind as a whole, but I guess I was expecting you to be closer to the size of other legendaries.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that! I get it a lot actually,” Ceebee admitted.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Tsuki said, bowing her head slightly to the mythical. “I don’t believe Alex has mentioned you before though,” she added hesitantly, glancing over at the grovyle.

“W-What? You didn’t tell them about me?” Ceebee gasped playfully, turning to face Alex. “I’m so hurt! You wouldn’t tell them about your other friend!”

Alex chuckled, rolling his eyes, “sorry, you know me. I usually keep things a secret for as long as possible.”

“Even if they don’t need to stay a secret,” Ceebee added, sticking her tongue out at him.

“When did you even get back here, anyway?” Alex questioned.

“Just last night, actually!” Ceebee answered, “I was going to go find you two right away, but then I found out that Xatu and Alakazam were working on this, and decided I could surprise you when you came here!” she explained, “speaking of, thanks for not spoiling that, you two,” she added, giving a nod towards the other two psychic-types. “Oh! Actually, there was someone else here who helped, we should… where did he go?”

“Who else helped you?” Keahi asked, looking around.

“A ghost-type pokemon… We received help from him as well. Gone away now, it seems…” Xatu murmured, “A gengar, to be precise,” he added.

“Gengar?” Keahi repeated in surprise, “it’s that same Gengar, isn’t it…? Why would he have come here?”

“And why did you let him?” Alex snapped, glaring at Alakazam. “I can excuse the other two, but you know what that slime ball did. What if he tried sabotaging the gem?”

Alakazam’s expression hardened, “he wasn’t going to do that. I am unsure of his motives for helping, but he did. You should be thankful for that; the more help, the better.”

Alex pressed his lips firmly together, glaring at Alakazam for a few more moments before silently looking towards the canyons. He wasn’t willing to keep arguing with the psychic-type anymore.

“You know that gengar…? What did he do?” Ceebee asked quietly.

“Long story,” Alex huffed, “we can explain during the mission, if you really want.”

“With that out of the way…” Xatu spread his wings open, a small green gem appearing in the air, which carefully floated in front of him. “I present you with the teleport gem. This carries the energy for five teleports, which may be used all at once or one at a time,” he announced, “Nelvana. Accept it!”

Nelvana stiffened at suddenly being directly addressed in such a fashion, but recovered quickly, stepping towards Xatu and collecting the gem in her hands. She could feel it buzzing with energy on the palm of her hand, almost as if it would just bounce away and disappear.

“In my vision… I saw the future; the planet’s paralysis. Where time has stopped… and the sun no longer shines. A cold and dark future, filled with suffering,” Xatu whispered, and shuddered. “It terrifies me. Please… promise me that you will do everything you can to prevent this from happening. Never give up. Never shy away from the danger that awaits you.”

“I promise,” Nelvana replied, offering Xatu a soft smile and hoping he could see it in her eyes.

Xatu visibly relaxed, “thank you. You three, you have faced that future, and have already done great things to try preventing it. For that, I already must thank you. You are incredibly brave. And you two, who join this despite the dangers ahead, I thank you as well.”

Keahi smiled, “you’re welcome, Xatu. We’ll all do our best.”

“Then, you should not delay it any longer,” Xatu responded, “go up to Sky Tower! Go up and do your best, as you promise! It will be fraught with danger, but we believe in you all. We will all be awaiting you here.”

Nelvana nodded, “thank you Xatu.”

Team Galaxy crowded closer around Nelvana, and the teleport gem. She rubbed the item gingerly, studying its emerald color, and lighter patterns etched around it which glowed and hummed, almost in anticipation to be put to its use.

“Team Galaxy,” Alakazam said, “before you leave, there is something I must tell you,” he continued, and then exhaled. “As the leader of the currently highest ranked team, it is my special honor to announce that Team Galaxy is officially a gold ranked team. Well done.”

Keahi’s eyes lit up, “really? Thank you, Alakazam!”

“Now then, you should head off then. You have more than proven yourselves lately to take on this mission, and we wish you the best of luck,” Alakazam responded.

“Oh wait, one last thing! If our other teammates come along, just let them know we say hi but already got started!” Keahi added.

Alakazam sighed, “very well then.”

Nelvana nodded again, to the two psychic-types, then looked back at the teleport gem in her hands. Despite having never used such an item before, she didn’t feel unsure of what to do with it. She curled her fingers around it, closing her eyes and focusing on its power, connecting it to Sky Tower, and to her teammates. It glowed brightly in her hands, basking the group in its light, and then the quintet disappeared from the Hill of the Ancients.

They reappeared a bit above where they wanted to be, and ended up falling down a few feet down onto some clouds. Unlike how clouds should act when something touches them, these ones stayed solid and supported all five of the pokemon landing there.

“Woah…” Nelvana gasped, having landed on feet and was now slowly wandering around, taking everything in in awe. “It’s so pretty up here… and calm,” she whispered.

Keahi, who did not land as easily as her partner had, scrambled to get back onto her feet to join Nelvana in looking around. They had landed on the flooring of clouds outside of Sky Tower. The entrance to Sky Tower, and Sky Tower itself, stood a few meters in front of them. The huge spiral puff extended further up into the sky, high enough that it blended into the clouds around it and couldn’t be seen. If one were to peer over the edge of their current platform, they would be able to stare down at the land below, being able to make out the warm canyons of the Hill of the Ancients, and even further out to the forests like Tiny Woods, and even the shrunk houses of Pokemon Square itself.

“Look at this view!” Keahi exclaimed, “we’re super high up!”

“I guess this would be a good time to ask; does anyone have a fear of heights?” Nelvana questioned, looking back at the rest of the team.

Alex laughed, joining the other two closer to the edge so he could peer down at the landscape below as well, “I’d hope not, after we already got up here.”

“I’ll be alright, these clouds feel solid enough,” Tsuki added, sitting up and kneading the white puff below her gingerly.

“As nice as this view is…” Ceebee began, beginning to flutter back up into the air after falling down as well.

“We should get in, yeah,” Alex finished, turning back around. “Since when did you rush things, anyway? I’d expect you to want to linger and enjoy the sights.”

Ceebee smiled, “yeah… it’s so pretty here. I got to see the sunrise and the stars and… and all the colors… it’s amazing here,” she murmured, “but, we still have a job to do, and we’re already cutting things close,” she sighed, “besides, if you aren’t going to rush us, someone has to!” she teased, flying in front of the grovyle for this last comment before zooming back off towards the tower.

Alex chuckled again, rolling his eyes and following the shiny pokemon. Tsuki stood up and followed them as well, ultimately deciding not to take a look at their view from up in the sky. After a couple moments, Keahi turned around to go join the others, and so did Nelvana.

“I’m assuming this is just another dungeon thing, but it is awfully easy to breathe up here. You’d think the pressure would get to us at this height,” Nelvana commented as she joined the others.

“Yup! It’s a dungeon thing! It’s a bit odd that it’s working outside the dungeon, but maybe this counts as a special floor…?” Ceebee responded, “like, you know when you go really deep underground and you’re still breathing fine? Works the same up here! If the dungeon didn’t let anyone breathe, it wouldn’t have any dungeon pokemon to use, now would it?”

“Speaking of dungeon pokemon,” Tsuki replied, “what kind of foes should we be facing here, anyway?”

“Probably nothing much, just some fliers that wandered in here or something. This isn’t easy access, so not many can be affected by the sickness,” Keahi guessed, “then again, I doubt any of them could be rescued easily either…”

“I spoke to Alakazam and Xatu about it while we were working on the gem. Apparently, there are more ghost-types than flying-types here,” Ceebee said, and then clapped her hands together. “How about we go ahead and find out then? Not like sitting around here is going to answer that question!”

“Really excited for adventure, aren’t ya?” Alex teased, but took the lead into finally entering the tower.

“I mean, yeah! I haven’t been able to do anything with my friends for so long! It’ll be nice to do a dungeon together again! And with new friends!” Ceebee chirped, spinning around in the air as she followed.

Keahi giggled, “glad to see you’re excited about this!”

“Oh, Nel, you still have the teleport gem, right? I can put it into the bag now that we’re done with it,” Alex said, turning back to look at the cubone.

“Right! Here you go,” Nelvana replied, handing the grovyle the gem. “I, uh, think it’s out of charges now though,” she added, looking at the now dulled emerald stone.

Alex studied it for a moment before putting it into the bag, “hm… I guess Xatu did say it only have five charges, right? We just used them all at once.”

“Wait, so how are we getting back down from here?” Keahi questioned nervously, her feathers fluffing up defensively.

“Uh… we’ll burn that bridge when we get to it,” Alex muttered, turning back around to go into the dungeon.

“Maybe Rayquaza will let us back down,” Nelvana offered, glancing at the worried torchic.

“Yeah…” Keahi agreed quietly, “alright.”

The first floor of Sky Tower was rather… expected in appearance. The ground remained clouds, as did the ceiling and the walls. Sunlight seeped through the thinner clouded walls, giving the area a muffled warmth. Despite being indoors, this is possibly one of the lightest dungeons they had been in, especially compared to the many caves they had traveled through. The white, puffy clouds gave it a much calmer atmosphere as well.

After wandering for a few minutes down the long wandering pathways, Alex brought out their dungeon map to check on their progress, only to stiffen in surprise at the blank page.

“Something’s wrong with our map!” Alex announced to the team, which gathered back around to take a look for themselves.

“It’s… blank?” Ceebee commented.

“It isn’t supposed to be blank. It’s a dungeon map, Keahi ‘n Nel got it from the guild when they teamed up. When you’re in a dungeon, it tracks your progress for you on each floor so you don’t get lost,” Alex snapped back.

“That’s quite unusual…” Tsuki muttered, “has it ever… malfunctioned before?”

Keahi shook her head, “it’s an enchanted map, it doesn’t glitch like the badges do. There must be something else directly affecting it…”

“Well, I don’t sense anything, I’m afraid,” Ceebee responded, “we’ll just have to do without, which is fine! We used to do it like that all the time! Nel has a good sense of direction, and I can make a mental map!”

Nelvana exhaled, and then smiled, “alright, that should work alright… still pretty odd that the map isn’t working…” she murmured.

Even with this early setback, they continued. Quickly making it onto the next floor without much other difficulties. Their first dungeon pokemon greeted them right away on the second floor, though, it was less expected. Neither ghost nor flying-type like they had predicted, but a forretress, a bug-steel-type. Those in front of Keahi stepped aside to let her get rid of the foe with a quick flamethrower before continuing on their way again. The next opponents they ran into were no less unusual, with shedninja, lunatone, and even some masquerain, to name a few.

“This dungeon is really weird…” Nelvana commented quietly, the others responding quickly was various signs of agreement.

Without the aide of their dungeon progress to remind them of where they had been before, they were forced to rely on other sources such as Ceebee’s supposed mental map, and Tsuki’s sense of smell. Unfortunately, the clouds seemed to be slowly morphing and changing with the passage of time, dispersing any scents and blocking away paths that had once been there, just to be confusing to the group.

While they could handle the dungeon pokemon for now, despite them being oddly aggressive compared to the dungeon pokemon fought in the past, they knew they would be headed into monster houses soon, and if not, then hunger. And they hadn’t packed food for any extra pokemon joining them. This extra challenge, as small as it seemed, was becoming evident that it could become one of their bigger obstacles with how much longer it was taking on some floors.

Regardless, no one complained aside from a few comments whenever a particularly bad annoyance popped up every now and again, and they all pressed forward. Cool breezes carried wisps of clouds that swirled around them before merging into the foundation of the tower, while the sun continued to creep into each room to provide them with warmth and light up in the lonely skies. Alex began telling Ceebee about what she had missed in the present, with Keahi chiming in, and even Nelvana and Tsuki eventually; filling the halls with their cheerful chatter, to help keep them going through the struggles.

By the sixth floor, they had run into a few of the ghost-types that Ceebee had been warned about. The main culprit of this, were the shuppets. Tricksters that would hide in the walls, only popping back out to attack quickly before disappearing away again, still in combat which didn’t let Alex follow with pursuit, but out of the way of most retaliation. The creepier thing about that was that the clouds would never move in response to any of the ghost-types hiding in them. The walls would remain still, and the ghost-types would just sink inside of them. These opponents usually had to be solved with an elemental move, like Keahi’s flamethrower or ember, but after the fifth shuppet they had encountered, Alex wanted to try something new.

“Alright, how about we put this scarf to use,” Alex announced, bringing out the purple mobile scarf, tying it loosely around his knuckles. “We’ve wasted too many better moves trying to put them through the walls, let’s just do this the way it should be,” he hissed.

“Go ahead, let’s see how it works!” Nelvana encouraged, even stepping aside and gesturing the grovyle towards the wall the most recent shuppets had disappeared into.

“What’s that item?” Ceebee asked, hovering down to Keahi to ask her in a whisper.

“Mobile scarf, let’s you walk through walls,” Keahi answered courtly.

Alex tightened the torn fabric on his knuckles more, before stepping forward, and through the wall, disappearing like the ghost-types had been doing. The rest of the team waited in silent anticipation for the grovyle to return, Ceebee’s antennae twitching as she watched the wall silently with the others. There was a shriek, one they had grown familiar to with other shuppets being defeated, and then Alex stumbled back out into the hallway, letting out a sharp gasp upon exiting where he had been.

“Alex! You okay? How was it?” Nelvana asked, approaching her partner.

Alex coughed, tugging off the scarf and putting it back in the bag, “augh, it was really hard to breath in there,” he panted, “but… otherwise alright, I guess. Actually… I’m surprisingly, hungry? I guess you were right on that part, Keahi,” he added, “we should probably use this more sparingly though.”

“Yeah, no arguments there. Did you have to hold your breath the entire time?” Keahi asked.

“No,” Alex scoffed.

“You looked pretty bad coming out though,” Tsuki commented, which Alex scoffed at again.

“Well,” Nelvana sighed, “good to know for the future at least. I mean, we wanted to figure that out when we first picked that up, and now we know its setbacks.”

On the next floor, a new obstacle arose in the form of the weather. Rain began pouring down from the ceiling above, soaking everyone quickly while also hampering their sight even more. This, combined with the map issue, would make this floor the hardest to navigate thus far.

“Alright, let’s stick extra close here. Wouldn’t want to get lost,” Alex ordered, receiving no objections.

They had only wandered down a few hallways, before hearing an unfamiliar voice calling out to them from one of the puffy walls.

“H-Hey, excuse me!”

It was a duskull, a new pokemon to this dungeon, who presented themselves by floating out through the adjacent wall and through the rain, closer to the quintet. Everyone spun around to face this new arrival, making sure to keep their guards up. This particular duskull had cracks through its skull through the right socket, and its red eye light only illuminated the left socket. Upon spotting them, Alex’s lips curled up in a snarl.

“W-Wait! I’m not going to attack you!” Duskull insisted, waving their arms at them and backing away slightly. “I wanted to talk to you!”

“You’re not a dungeon pokemon?” Keahi questioned.

“Nope!” Duskull chirped, approaching the group carefully again. “Actually, none of us are! This isn’t a dungeon,” they told them.

“W-What? It isn’t?” Keahi blurted out, jumping in surprise.

“But… it feels like a dungeon,” Nelvana responded hesitantly, “I guess that explains why the map didn’t work…?” she added quietly.

“That’s the trick. This is our sanctuary, so if it’s disguised as a dungeon…” Duskull trailed off.

“Then less people will come here,” Tsuki finished, “that’s… actually pretty ingenious. Did Rayquaza put this together for you all?”

Duskull nodded excitedly the best they could, which was basically just shaking themself up and down, “yup! Master Rayquaza put this together for us so we could be safe up here, and away from the pokemon down below! In return, we fight off any travelers for them!”

“Master Rayquaza?” Alex repeated, stiffening more.

Nelvana shuffled her feet, recalling how Sableye had referred to Dusknoir and Dialga as their masters. This thought stirred a bit of anxiety in her, and she suddenly understood why Alex was staying away from Duskull.

“Oh, yeah… everyone around here calls them that, I just do out of habit now. The others here don’t like it when I drop the title… But I don’t think of Rayquaza as my master, they’re more of our guardian!” Duskull insisted, “sorry about that! Anyway… I’m supposed to be fighting you… but I don’t really want to.”

Keahi tilted her head to the side, “why not?”

“Because! I think you must be here for something important, right? I can’t remember ever getting a group like this coming around here… Do… Do you need to talk to Rayquaza?” Duskull responded.

“Yes. We need their help with something very important,” Ceebee answered, slowly fluttering closer to Duskull. “There is a disaster coming that will cause the unthinkable if we don’t stop it. It is a meteor, falling to this world to hit tonight. We need Rayquaza to destroy it to save everyone, could you help us with that?” she continued hesitantly, though as calmly as she could.

“Oh! Of course I can help you out! I’m not that good of a fighter… but I can lead you through the floors! Yeah! I can be your guide for you, if you all want,” Duskull offered.

“Yeah, that… that will help, right guys?” Nelvana replied, glancing around at her teammates.

Keahi nodded, “we’d be glad to have a bit of extra help here! Everything helps! And hey, maybe you can talk down some of your friends as we pass by too so we don’t have to fight everyone!” she agreed, “wait… all those pokemon we fought, what happened to them?” she suddenly asked in alarm.

“Oh, don’t worry. There’s a protection system for us. When we’re defeated, we teleport to one of our safe pockets to recover. I won’t be showing you where though, those locations are secret!” Duskull chuckled.

“Good to know,” Tsuki replied, nodding. “Anyway, I agree that having the extra assistance here would be nice. The air here right now is thicker than some snowstorms I’ve have to walk through, and our pace hasn’t been as quick as we’d prefer,” she continued.

Alex sighed, releasing some of his tension with it, “alright… let’s do this then. Welcome to the group, Duskull,” he said, “thanks… for agreeing to help us with this.”

“No problem! Alright, follow me then! Right this way!” Duskull chirped, floating ahead.

Distrust hung in the air at the sudden ally, especially from the time travelers; but true to his word, Duskull lead them up the next set of stairs to the eighth floor of Sky Tower.

“This is so exciting!” Duskull exclaimed as he waited for everyone to get up the stairs. “I’ve never traveled with people like this! And you guys look really cool, and nice!”

“Oh, thanks!” Keahi hummed, “by the way, we’re Team Galaxy! I’m Keahi, and that’s Nel, Alex, Tsuki, and Ceebee!” she introduced, waving her wing at each member as she mentioned their name.

Duskull gasped, waving his arms around excitedly, “you all have names!”

Nelvana blinked, “yeah…? Do you?”

“No! Barely anyone here does… But I want one! It gives you a sense of uniqueness that you don’t get by just being called by your species name, and I want that,” Duskull responded, “but I can’t think of anything… How did you get your names?”

“Nel is pretty good at thinking of names for others,” Ceebee offered, “maybe she can think of something for you! Do you want to try naming Duskull, Nel?”

“Ah…” Nelvana paused, stiffening slightly. “Uh, Edgar?” she suggested hesitantly.

“Edgar?” he repeated, “I like it! Thanks, Nel! I can be Edgar now! This is great; I finally have a name!”

“Glad you like it,” Nelvana replied, rubbing the deeper cracks in her club.

Edgar now, continued leading them through the hallways and the rooms towards the next set of stairs. Unfortunately, their good fortune and high spirits were cut short when entering the room with the stairs, and having several pokemon jump out from the walls and ceiling.

“Duskull,” a lunatone hissed coolly.

“O-Oh hey Lunatone, everyone!” Edgar greeted nervously, “it’s okay, you don’t need to spring a monster house! These guys are good!”

Another duskull floated up beside Lunatone, “ah… Duskull, always so foolish. Don’t you know why we can’t let anyone go visit Master Rayquaza?”

Edgar floated nervously in place, his red eye light shrinking slightly, “t-this is important though! We could all be in danger if-“

“Duskull,” Lunatone silenced, “do not fall for them. You aren’t to trust outsiders.”

“But if you just listen to-“

“Duskull! Silence!” a masquerain snapped.

Edgar fell silent, floating closer to the ground in submission. Team Galaxy froze, watching the sudden turn of events go down in front of them, and the harm that was coming from it to their new ally.

“Hey, you guys shouldn’t be so rude to him,” Nelvana growled, “he’s just trying to be helpful.”

“We don’t need to listen to your group,” the other duskull rumbled, “you don’t belong here.”

“Well maybe you should listen,” Alex snarled, “because we have some important things to say.”

Lunatone floated closer to the group, to Edgar, “listen… it’s still okay to come back to us, you aren’t a traitor yet. You can still make a choice, side with Master Rayquaza, or with these land walker filths.”

“…they’re on Rayquaza’s side though…” Edgar murmured.

“Make your choice,” Masquerain pressured sharply.

Edgar’s eye light darkened, and he fell silent for a few moments, hovering in the air blankly.

“I’m staying with Team Galaxy. They aren’t bad pokemon, they’re here to help,” he insisted firmly, looking back up at the monster house team.

“TRAITOR!!!” Lunatone shrieked, their eyes lighting up in a powerful energy.

Rocks appeared around Lunatone from out of nowhere, which they launched at Edgar. Edgar let out a yelp, diving into the ground and disappearing into the shadows. All the other pokemon in the room leapt into battle in the small, restrictive area. Nelvana lunged forward at Lunatone, tanking the rest of the rock throw attack as she got up close, proceeding to punch the pokemon with the force of brick break. They got knocked back slightly, and before they could recover, she came at them again with the same attack. This time, they went unconscious, and disappeared in a beam of light. Everyone else picked a target, and began fighting as they had done in other monster houses.

More pokemon kept appearing out of nowhere, from all angles, trying to swarm the group. Edgar hit a different lunatone with shadow sneak, before floating over to the stairs at the end of the room.

“Guys! We should hurry! Come on, up here!” he called.

After a moment of hesitance and to knock out the pokemon they were currently up against, Team Galaxy obliged, hurrying up the stairs over to Edgar. Moments after Ceebee flew up with the rest, a forretress used explosion, destroying the room almost entirely, clouds being dispersed everywhere. They decided not to look back, and the sextet hurried through the next floor; until they were sure they weren’t being followed by that mob anymore.

“So… those were your friends?” Alex questioned, taking in a sharp breath.

“Y-Yeah… sorry, they can be a bit… forceful sometimes,” Edgar muttered, “I… I really hoped that they would be more accepting, but… I knew they wouldn’t. I was just being too optimistic. I’m sorry.”

“Those are some bad friends,” Alex snapped, “they shouldn’t be trying to force you and pressure you to do what they want.”

Nelvana nodded, “yeah… that isn’t how friends should act. They wouldn’t even let you speak,” she added, “and, you don’t need to apologize for what they did. It wasn’t your fault. If anything, we should apologize for contributing to the problem by being here.”

Edgar paused, thinking this over, “well…” He looked over at Team Galaxy, his eye light shining brighter than before. “Thanks… But I think I’ll need to think this over… think them over… In the meantime, I’m still willing to help. I really did make my choice back there. I want to stick with you guys, even just for your mission here.”

Tsuki smiled, “and we thank you for that. Take the time you need to think this over, we understand it’s a complicated situation for you.”

“Yes,” Ceebee smiled, “we’re really thankful for you being so willing to help us. It means a lot. Not many would be as friendly as you have been to us.”

“Yeah! And don’t worry, we’ll stick with you,” Keahi chirped, “we just met, but you’ve already helped us a lot! We’re willing to help back in any way that we can.”

“T-Thank you…” Edgar murmured, “you guys are really nice… thanks.”

While that event certainly brought up the group’s trust for one another, the other habitant’s aggression sharply increased. No longer could they simply walk the long way around someone they didn’t want to bother fighting, if anyone even heard the group, they would be hunted down. This feeling of being chased brought up tensions. Nelvana especially had it, and she wondered if Alex and Ceebee felt the same as she did. The feeling that someone was watching you at all times, that there was no safety and that you were being constantly hunted. But the anxiety lessened with the reminder that they still had each other, and that they could face these problems together.

That they weren’t alone in these battles.

Nelvana found it odd, to have such a large group. Despite not liking crowds, or large groups of people in general much, she still found herself comfortable here. She trusted her friends, and cared for them. Her heart ached as she realised how much she would really do to keep everyone safe and happy. It was an odd realization to come to.

Edgar continued to be a useful guide, knowing where the stairs on each floor were and being able to direct the group to it; even if the hallways were slowly being altered in the wind. As he said when he had first teamed up with the group, he couldn’t contribute that much in battle, but he did what he could with pesky moves like confuse ray and will-o-wisp, to cause foes to become hindered and simplify the job of being defeated for the others. Even if he couldn’t fight, the team could agree individually that he was incredibly useful in and out of battle.

Team Galaxy continued their way up the floors of Sky Tower, going as fast as they could with all these battle interruptions. They ended up taking a quick break for some apple snacks for everyone, Alex muttering with frustration how dungeons made you hungrier faster and it just wasted supplies under his breath.

They had finally reached the twentieth floor, and were greeted by a solrock. They had seen other solrocks, of course, but this one appeared more docile and calmer, resting up against the wall with their eyes closed.

“Hey, hey look, it’s a solrock,” Alex whispered, silently creeping towards the resting pokemon.

“What are you doing…?” Nelvana questioned in a hushed voice, holding her club close to her.

“Dude! We didn’t get many solrocks in the future, remember? Just lunatones…” Alex responded, “they really do look like the sun…” he continued in awe.

Ceebee stiffened, “be careful-“

Solrock suddenly opened their eyes, shooting up into the air in surprise, and preparing a rock slide attack, sending it at the grovyle. Alex scrambled out of the way in time, and lunged at Solrock in retaliation with his leaf blade attack, knocking it out in one hit.

“Jerk!” Alex snapped, “I was admiring you!”

Ceebee burst out laughing, “you kind of deserved that. You should have been more careful, Alex! You know better than to get distracted like that!” she mocked.

Alex rolled his eyes at Ceebee, glaring at her before continued on down the path like nothing had happened. After that reaction to the celebi’s teasing, Keahi and Edgar couldn’t help but snicker as well.

Another pokemon that caused the sextet troubles was a dusclops that had begun following the group much beyond what Edgar insisted was supposed to be their territory. Like the shuppets of lower floors, this dusclops enjoyed hiding in the walls and only attacking for a moment before hiding again. It didn’t take long for this to grow tired, and they began brainstorming ways to deal with this annoyance properly. Throwing in elemental attacks blindly through the clouds didn’t seem to be working as well as before; Dusclops was staying safe and away when they hid in the walls.

“Edgar, you can go through walls too, right? Why don’t you try going in there and dealing with this guy?” Keahi suggested, looking over at the duskull.

Edgar shook his head, “no… dusclops are really strong, they’re my evolve after all! I can’t handle that alone; you guys know I’m not really good at fighting anyway.”

“Why not just lure them out instead?” Tsuki added.

“No… I think Edgar is right, it definitely wouldn’t be fair to end Edgar in there alone, even if just to lure out that… dusclops,” Alex muttered, “we can’t risk them knowing pursuit and knabbing you when you retreat, or some sort of attack like that.” He shuddered at the thought. “We do still have the mobile scarf though; someone could go with Edgar,” he offered, bringing back out the mentioned item.

“Woah! You said that was a mobile scarf, right? Sure it isn’t a… reaper cloth?” Edgar exclaimed, zooming in to look at the fabric up close.

“Nah, we already tested it and everything. It’s a mobile scarf, let’s you walk through walls,” Alex responded, holding up the mobile scarf so Edgar could see it better. “I mean, I didn’t think about it before, but it does kind look like one, doesn’t it…?”

Ceebee snatched the torn fabric out of Alex’s hands, “look! The purple is slightly more saturated than a reaper cloth, and it’s darker too. Plus, the light purple is striped, while a reaper cloth has a more ‘camouflage’ pattern on it,” she explained, pointing at each design difference to Edgar as she mentioned it.

“Oh! I guess you’re right then,” Edgar replied, “I haven’t actually seen a reaper cloth before, so I just assumed based on what I heard. Whoops! I shouldn’t do that…” he laughed.

“Sorry if we got your hopes up,” Nelvana murmured.

Alex looked over at Ceebee, and then grinned, “is you taking that you volunteering to look for the dusclops?” he snickered.

Nelvana sighed, “I’ll do it if we’re going to make such a big deal about it.” She swiped the cloth away from Ceebee. “At this rate, Dusclops is gonna come back and just attack us again while we’re distracted,” she huffed, pausing for a moment before deciding to wrap the mobile scarf around her knuckles like Alex had.

“You sure?” Alex questioned, his smile falling.

Nelvana shrugged, “yeah, it’ll be quick.”

“Alright, good luck then!” Keahi chirped.

Nelvana nodded over to Keahi, took in a deep breath, and stepped through the wall. Edgar didn’t wait long before following her, disappearing into the clouds as well. This time it took longer for the pair to return than it had when Alex had gone in after the shuppets, but not by long enough to start raising concerns.

After about a minute, the pair returned. Like when Alex had returned before, Nelvana exited the wall and immediately was gasping for fresh air. She crouched forward, resting her hands on her knees and panting for a couple moments before standing up straight again, taking off the scarf, and passing it to Alex.

“How was it?” Alex asked.

“Battle went fine… they were just like the other dusclops we’ve seen ‘round here,” Nelvana answered, “but being in the wall itself… well, uh, it was as you described. Hard to breath in and hunger inducing.”

“Hm… Edgar, you didn’t feel that, did you? Does that mean this is an effect of the scarf, or of just not being a ghost-type?” Tsuki murmured.

Edgar tilted to the side, letting out a long hum as he thought, “um… if I had to guess, I’d say it’s a ghost-type thing, because we don’t actually need to breathe, so we don’t feel that pressure as much?”

Ceebee nodded, “that makes sense! It would be a bit odd for a scarf to make it hard to breathe anyway.”

Nelvana brushed off her hands, joining up with the group. Now that she had caught her breath, she was proceeding to act as if nothing bad had happened, and that she was alright. Alex offered her a quick snack of an apple slice remaining from an apple they had cut up earlier in their journey, which she hesitantly accepted after some pressuring from Keahi, and they pressed on down the path again.

Further still into the tower, they continued. The pokemon of the early floors no longer followed them up here, leaving only the stronger pokemon such as flygon and aerodactyl to be fought. Fortunately, while the strength of the individual pokemon grew, their numbers thinned, meaning that the entire group of six could group up to take down on or two foes at a time, making things much simpler.

Finally, finally, they managed to climb their way up to the twenty fifth floor of the tower. It had been hours since their journey through Sky Tower had begun, and they had arrived to the safe floor. The statue in the center of the room, as expected, was of Rayquaza. The huge, long dragon legendary was stretched out, reaching towards the ceiling, the structure balanced carefully at the end of their tail.

“We made it!” Keahi exclaimed, “this is it! How many more floors after this, Edgar?”

“There’s nine more floors, and then we can see Rayquaza,” Edgar answered softly, “no one has spoken to them in a long time… I haven’t even seen them myself.”

“We’ll probably have to fight them. That’s how it usually goes with legendaries,” Nelvana told him, “we’ll try talking first, but…”

“Yeah… I understand,” Edgar replied, “I was thinking it over as we got closer to here, and I understand how important this is, and what the chances are that Rayquaza won’t listen to us right away. But… are you confident that you can win?”

“Yes, yes we are,” Alex responded confidently, “we’ll beat Rayquaza, and be able to tell them about the meteor so that they can stop it.”

“I really hope so,” Edgar murmured.

Ceebee smiled at Edgar encouragingly before continuing, “anyway, we should take some time to rest here before continuing, since this is a safe floor. Based off how long it took to get here, we should still have plenty of time to complete this dungeon and beat Rayquaza. It will be good to catch our breaths while we can.”

“Agreed,” Alex replied, leaning up against one of the walls.

“Alright, Team Galaxy…” Keahi grinned softly. “This is been a long journey, and I’m really proud of us. Let’s keep doing great things here, okay?”

“Of course,” Nelvana responded, “we’re going to do this.”

First: In which the human is transformed Next: In which the god of the sky is fought Previous: In which the gardevoir speaks to the human once more

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wildefiction · 5 years ago

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Of Course...Mr. Collins

THIRTEEN

Thursday came and went with little excitement, Misha leaving you to your own devices as he was briefed on that weekend’s convention schedule. You spent the day sun-bathing, napping and texting your sister about your first day in Hawaii.

Friday morning, you woke to the incessant buzzing of your phone. Cracking one eyelid, your vision slid into focus as you noted the annoying black device vibrating towards you along the table. Groaning, you winced as the backlight blinded you. It was six in the morning.

“So much for this trip being a vacation, hah.”

The six text messages surprised you and you began to scroll through them, expecting them to all be from Misha. Only that man would wake up six hours before the convention was due to start.

To your surprise, only five of them were from your boss. The sixth, was from Norman.

“Hey [Y/F/N], how ‘bout that ride today? ; )

Your heart fluttered for a moment, chills running down your arms. Sure, he’d said he’d text you - but you hadn’t actually expected him to. Your hands shook slightly as you typed out a quick response.

“That would be awesome! Let me get back to you after I check in with Mish. Woke up to five messages from him!”

Switching back to the group of messages from Misha, you sighed in relief when you realized they weren’t urgent. There was a picture of the sunrise and the beach where he’d gone running. The third was him letting you know the cast was getting together for drinks that night, asking if you wanted to go. Then one mentioning he was on his way back to the hotel, and finally one asking if you wanted coffee or tea since he was stopping anyhow.

The last message had been sent five minutes ago. Hurrying to respond, you asked for an earl grey latte before throwing the phone down on the bed and moving to find clothes for the day.

Fifteen minutes later, a dull thudding sound coming from across the room had you pulling the door open to see Misha, two paper cups in hand and a brown bag clenched in his teeth. Laughing, you grabbed the bag from his mouth and moved back, allowing him to join you in the room.

“I grabbed some of those bantam bagels and a breakfast sandwich for you to go with your tea.” We’ve got a few hours of work ahead of us, but I figure if we get done by lunch, you can have the afternoon off. Did you want to go tonight?”

Realizing you hadn’t answered that text, you quickly agreed.

“Of course! I’m super excited to meet everyone!” Clutching the warm drink in your hand and raising it to your lips, you drank deeply of the caffeine before eyeballing the paper bag you’d set down on the table.

Misha wandered into his room to grab the laptop from his bag.

“Here [Y/F/N], I’d like you to book us tickets to San Francisco for the first week of December and make the travel arrangements. I’m due at the convention Saturday morning, so we should probably get in Friday afternoon. The convention takes care of our hotel, but you should send the co-ordinator an email if you want your own room, they usually need a bit of notice for that kind of thing.”

With a bagel stuffed in one side of your mouth, you nodded in understanding as you pulled your tablet out and began writing a list of the things you needed to do.

“When you’re finished with that, do you think you might be able to find me something to wear to the luau tomorrow night? A fun shirt or something? I’m thinking my usual just isn’t going to cut it. Pick something nice up for yourself too while you’re out.”

As you opened your mouth to protest, Misha held up a hand, effectively silencing you.

“Before you say anything, just consider it a signing bonus.” “Think you can be ready by, say, nine?”

Nodding as you scribbled the notes on your list, you moved out onto the balcony, deciding to work on booking flights in the sunshine.

“Sounds good Misha, want to meet for lunch later?”

“I’ll actually be out most of the day, if you need me feel free to send me a text.” Reaching into his back pocket, Misha pulled his wallet out before rifling through it for a moment and then selecting a card and handing it towards you. Taking it from him, you were surprised at the heaviness of it. The black and cobalt gradient running over the front wrapped around the metal rectangle. Flipping it over, the card number and identifying information were printed neatly in the bottom corner.

“Kindly send me a screenshot of the flights you find before purchasing them please.”

“How much do you want me to spend on your shirt, sir?” You were still writing notes and didn’t look up to see Misha’s body language quiet as he watched you at your task.

“Whatever you like. I’m sure you can figure out what is and isn’t appropriate.” Snapping your head up, you rose from the chair as Misha turned from the room.

“Uh, no. You just gave me a credit card and I’d have a hard time spending thirty dollars on a shirt, so, I mean, can I at least have a range?! And, I don’t even know your style, what are you looking for?”

Misha turned as your cool fingers touched his skin and he smiled at the apprehension on your face. Grabbing both of your hands in his, he looked straight at you, demanding eye contact as a smile spread on his face. You stilled as you looked back at him - damn if those eyes weren’t easy to fall into…

“I have complete faith in you [Y/F/N], pick something that you’d like, doesn’t have to be fancy. And keep it under two-hundred?” “You’ll do fine.” With a final squeeze to your hands, he turned again and disappeared back into his room, leaving you with your assignments.

Settling into the table, being warmed by the morning sun you dove into searching for flights immediately, comparing the differing airlines and seat arrangements. As simple as it seems, you enjoyed this kind of work. It kept you busy while placating the organization skills that you couldn’t function without. Within the hour you’d found suitable flights for a pretty decent price and took a screenshot to send to Misha. Your phone notification sounded almost immediately; “Well that was fast,” you mused - sliding the menu screen open.

“Busy, busy eh? How about that ride?”

At first, you were confused, thinking it was Misha that had responded so quickly. Realizing it was Norman, you cursed to yourself. You’d completely forgotten to text him back. Glancing down at the clock, you noted it was only almost eight.

“Wanna meet for lunch around eleven?”

Another text. This one from Misha.

“Try again [Y/F/N] - how can I utilize your assistance properly if you’ve put yourself in coach?” “Dates and times look good though, just update your seat and send me the confirmation.”

He’d included his email address in the message. You sighed, but made the changes he requested anyhow before clicking on the checkout button. Buzzing twice in a row, you picked up your phone and saw that Misha had received the confirmation, and Norman had responded:

“It’s a date” ; )

Crossing the flights off of your list, you moved on to making travel arrangements. Several driving companies surrounded the airport you planned to fly into and you quickly made reservations with the best reviewed. After shooting a quick email to the convention organizers requesting two hotel rooms, you closed your laptop and gathered everything before heading back into the dim, air conditioned room.

After taking a quick shower and blow drying your hair, you stepped back into your room to get dressed. Settling on a pair of cut-offs and a Zeppelin t-shirt, you pulled a pair of boots from the closet you’d finally managed to unpack now that it was halfway through the week and laced them up over your socks. While the warm weather made wearing heavy boots less comfortable, one thing you’d remembered from growing up on the back of a bike was that you had to wear good shoes. Technically, you should’ve also worn pants, but you needed to be at least a little comfortable.

As the last hour ticked by, your nerves began worrying at you, and try as you might to calm them, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t startle when a heavy knock sounded on your door. Wiping your hands against the denim covering your thighs, you rose to answer the door.

“Hey, hey sweetheart, ya ready ta go?” Norman stood before you, dark Ray-bans wrapped over his eyes; a black hat pulled down over his shaggy auburn hair.

Grinning widely you turned to grab your phone and wallet before closing the door behind you.

“So, where ya wan’na go? Throwing an arm across your shoulders, he led you down the hallway.

Walking out to the parking lot, you waited as Norman swung one of his long legs over the seat of his bike, slowly backing the machine away from it’s parking spot. Looking up at you, he smirked as he waited for you to join him. Stepping up to the edge of the curb, you straddled the now rumbling monster, balancing yourself with one hand on Norman’s shoulder before seating yourself behind him. With a twist of the throttle, the bike lurched forward, and you pressed yourself against his broad back, gripping his waist with only your thighs as he accelerated out onto the main road.

Pulling into a Hawaiian barbeque place fifteen minutes later, you steadied yourself on his shoulders as you stood up from the bike.

“Ya like bar-ba-que lady?” The deep voice reminded you of the bike you’d just stepped off of and it sent a chill through your body as the smell of smoked meat drew you to the front doors.

“Uh, does a bear shit in the woods?” Norman laughed as he held the door open to let you pass through.

Sitting down at the outdoor patio, you attacked the brisket and pulled pork you’d ordered from the run-down little establishment.

“So, where’d ya learn ta ride?” Norman sat across from you, momentarily taken aback with the obscene sounds that drifted from your body as you savored the food before you, eyes screwed shut in concentration. Opening them at the question, your face reddened as the man across from you removed his sunglasses and fixed you with his light blue eyes.

“Blue, just like Misha’s, but lighter.” You mused to yourself before answering.

“My dad. I spent a lot of time on his bike growing up. He was a Harley guy too.” Norman grunted in appreciation as he continued eating. Eyeing your t-shirt, he rose an eyebrow, “ya like Zeppelin eh?”

Grinning, you nodded enthusiastically, launching into an animated discussion of your favorite songs and how you liked a lot of classic and modern rock.

Over the next hour, you talked about everything from the weather to relationships - good and bad and your hobbies. You learned that, while they filmed in Georgia, Norman actually lived in New York and spent a lot of time sculpting and painting when he was home, which wasn’t very often.

“I always wan’na be doin’ sum’thin.” “Get kin-a res’less if I’m in one place too long, ya know?”

“Sounds like a helluvan adventure actually.”

Rising from the table, the two of you made your way back to the front of the establishment before climbing back on the bike.

“Ya can hol’ on ya know. I ain’t gonna bite cha…”

“Oh, but biting’s excellent - it’s like kissing, only… there’s a winner!” You laughed, but wrapped your arms low around his waist, sliding your hands under his vest to splay your fingers over his muscled abdomen.

“Well then, darlin’ I’ll hafta keep that in mind.”

The next several hours flew by in a blur, you and Norman spent the time driving along the coast, stopping occasionally to sit in the sand and watch the waves crash over the beach. At one point, you stopped to pluck a plumeria blossom from one of the fragrant trees that dotted the park you were walking through, carefully tucking it behind your right ear. The yellow and white flower striking against your [Y/H/C] hair.

Reaching into your back pocket, you took your phone out and flipped on the camera, taking a picture to send to your sister back home. This island was so amazing, you almost didn’t want to go back.

“Hey, Norman, can we take a picture? My sister will never believe me if I try to tell her what I’ve done with my day.”

Chuckling, he ambled over, throwing an arm around your neck and pulling you harshly against his side. Taking your phone, he held it up in the air before releasing the shutter a couple of times.

“Alrigh’, one more.” Turning the camera sideways, he squeezed you closer into his side and as you looked up into the screen, he turned and pressed his lips to your cheek right as he hit the button. Blushing to yourself, you took the phone back from him and mumbled a thank you as you busied yourself with sending her the pictures.

Upon returning to the hotel, you checked your phone again as you said goodbye to Norman, with the promise to text him later. You were surprised to see there were no messages from Misha, he must be busy you thought to yourself before heading for the outdoor shopping area.

Drifting in and out of several shops trying to decide what to pick up for Misha was pretty challenging, but you ended up settling on a blue Hawaiian print shirt that was nearly the same color as his eyes. Gods that man had beautiful eyes. You’d never seen anything like them. Perhaps you were a bit biased, but you’d always been attracted to guys with dark hair and light eyes, and that rough stubble peppered over his jaw certainly didn’t hurt.

Checking the time, you noted it was nearly seven thirty and you still had to find yourself something to wear. After trying on several things you finally asked for help from one of the sales associates in a store filled with dresses.

“Hi, I’m looking for something to wear to a beach party tomorrow night, something nice but not too formal? Your [Y/E/C] eyes searched hers and she smiled back before bustling out from behind the counter to dig through the racks.

When your phone began ringing, you quickly answered Misha’s call, holding the device up to your ear.

“Hey, [Y/F/N], you gonna be ready soon?” Pulling the phone away to glance at the time, you cursed under your breath when you noticed it was quickly approaching eight. You’d never been more happy that you had showered that morning.

“Uh, yeah, give me twenty? Oh! Wait, that stuff you wanted me to buy is for tomorrow right? Not tonight?!” He laughed through the phone and assured you that was correct.

“Come in whatever you’re wearing now, we’re just going out to a few bars after all.”

Promising to meet him at the room, you spent another ten minutes choosing between a couple of dresses the woman had suggested and paid for your purchase before flying back through the shopping center and up to your room.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

TAGS: @jamielea81 @wings-of-a-raven

#WildeFiction #Misha x Reader #Supernatural Fanfiction #SPN x RPF

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suchdan-veryphil · 6 years ago

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Two Worlds Collide - Dan Howell Imagine Part 13

Word Count: 1,519

Trigger Warnings: Swearing and physical pain

A/N: Hello. It me. It late. I did my best. It’s a short one, but I decided I wanted this one to be quick so we could move things along. I’ll start drafting part 14 after I post this. If you hate her name, I’m very sorry. I love it.

Part 12

-----------------------------

As I got closer to my due date, the more bored I got. I couldn’t go out, I couldn’t walk around too much, and I couldn’t move a muscle because Dan thought I would somehow water-slide our daughter out of me onto my bed as if labor was a three-minute process. It took me a few days to really let Dan take care of me. He had Phil, PJ, and a few of my friends taking shifts to make sure I was okay while he was at work. I hated the feeling of being babysat.

“It’s just to make sure that you can relax. You heard the doctor. If you go into labor too soon it could seriously hurt the baby. You have to take it easy and just let someone take care of you for once. It’s okay to need help, darling.”

He wasn’t wrong. I hated when he wasn’t wrong.

As I laid in bed at 4 PM, I could hear the front door open and close before he called out. “Y/N!”

“I’m in here... The same place I’ve been for the last fucking week.” I grumbled and sat up as I rested my hands on my stomach.

“How was your day?” Dan asked me as he tossed his jacket on my dresser and crawled into bed with me, one hand on my stomach and the other hand holding up his head.

“I’ve been in bed all day, Dan. It was boring. I’m bored and I feel lazy. I need to get out of this bed!” I whined and threw my head back.

Dan laughed at me and shook his head. “What a whiney girlfriend I have.” He sat up and smiled a little. “How about we go into the nursery and pack her going home bag and pick out a name?”

He had been so stuck on picking out a name for the baby and I loved how determined he was to name her before she was born. It was the other way around with Matthew, and I finally understood the way that Dan was able to just wait. There really was no rush to name her. She was going to be here when she was ready and when we saw her, we would know. But I would entertain Daniel in his name game.

“Please. I just want to leave this bed.” I threw the blanket off of myself and swung my legs over the side of the bed. I stood up carefully and waddled my way down to the nursery. As I opened the door, the pale yellows and eggshell colors met my eyes. I smiled a little and looked around. The furniture was all set up and I couldn’t wait to get our baby bean settled in. Granted, she would be sleeping in my room with me for a while, but this was her room and she was going to spend however long I lived here for in this room. I grabbed her empty diaper bag off of the changing table that was right beside the door before I set it in the middle of the floor. Daniel and I met one another at her closet and started to shuffle through the options that were presented to her.

“Nothing pink.” I insisted as Daniel ran his hand over a pink outfit that his mother had gifted us.

“Why not?”

“Because I am not imposing gender roles on our newborn baby. Besides, look at how frilly that is. She won’t be comfortable in that.” I pointed out as I pinched the lace around the ankles of the onesie.

“Fine. How about the green elephant onesie? It’s cute.” Dan unhooked it from the closet and held it up to his torso as if it were him who would be wearing it.

“Oh yea. It compliments the brown eyes.” I teased and smirked a little. He rolled his eyes playfully and hung it back up.

“No no! I like it. I do. I was just teasing.” I took it back and tossed it towards the bag before I walked over to the drawers to pick out a matching hat and a few plain onesies just in case. Daniel took the time to pick out some diapers, wipes, creams, some spit up cloths, and some pacifiers to place in specific spots in the diaper bag.

There was a comfortable silence in the room as we prepared for our daughter to come home to us. I sighed softly, contently. Everything was alright at the moment, and I couldn’t be happier. Things were falling into place from the moment that Dan told me that he wasn’t going back to Scotland. I felt Bean kick towards the top of my stomach and I looked over at Dan, holding my hand out.

“What?”

“Gimme your hand.”

Dan obliged, but not without a questioning look on his face. I smiled as I placed his hand on top of my stomach, pressing him into the area that she was kicking. As she sent a swift kick upwards, his face lifted and I chuckled a little.

“Guinevere,” Dan whispered softly.

I looked up at him and tilted my head to the side and raised an eyebrow. “Guinevere?”

“We can call her Gwen. It means white light. She’s our white light. Our miracle baby.”

I felt my eyes water as he said it, and I knew that was the one. “I love it. I love it, and I love you and I love her and I really cannot wait to meet her.” I said as I started to cry happily. Dan wrapped his arms around me.

“Oh, love.” He kissed my head and smiled against my skin. “She’ll be here soon enough.” He rested his hands on my lower back and his chin on the top of my head.

I sighed and looked at the diaper bag with everything piled on top of it. “I’d put all of that away but the baby is gonna topple me over.” I pointed to the pile and watched as Daniel picked up the mess and set it on the changing table. He began to fold and tuck things into their proper place before he set it on the floor once more so that we would be ready to grab it when it was time.

Later that night, Dan and I ate the cheesiest macaroni and cheese a girl could ever dream of while watching FRIENDS. He rested his free hand on my belly as I finished up my food.

“What do you want her middle name to be?” I asked him and leaned my head on his shoulder as I closed my eyes to listen closely so I wasn’t distracted by the TV. I felt his chest rise and lower a bit more intensely, indicating that he was thinking hard.

“I kind of want to honor Phil, but I don’t know of any feminine names that start with Phil.”

At that moment, my mind was racing for ideas. Phillipa? Phillipine?

“Philomena?”

“I hate it.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle a little. “Guinevere Philomena Howell. Tell me that isn’t the most beautiful name you could give a baby girl.”

“It’s so posh, Y/N.” Dan whined.

“Oh hush. She’s not gonna be posh. She’ll be whoever she wants to be. Hell, we can’t be positive that she’ll even identify with what we imagine her as now so we may as well give her a beautiful name.” I pointed out and looked up at him with a small smile.

He just stared down at me and sighed softly. “Oh, fine. Guinevere Philomena. I feel bad for the teachers who have to figure out how to pronounce her name.”

“And that’s when she or we will correct them and they’ll learn. Who cares? Your name is Daniel James. That is the most proper name I’ve heard since Guinevere Philomena.” I teased and leaned up to kiss him gently. He kissed me back softly, but we were interrupted by a sharp feeling in my lower pelvic area.

“Oh, ow!” I groaned and curled up a little bit with my hands on my stomach.

“What? Are you okay?” Dan asked in a panic, resting both hands over mine.

“Yea, just those uh - those Braxton Hicks bullshit.” I breathed through it and when it was over, I got out from under the covers and sighed a little. “I can’t stay in bed, Dan.”

“The doctor said-”

“Does the doctor have a whole ass human infant growing inside of him? Does he know how uncomfortable this is?”

“No, he doesn’t babe. But he does know the repercussions of not properly resting towards the end of a high-risk pregnancy.”

I groaned as I crossed my arms. “I’m just mad.”

Dan chuckled a little and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. “I know, love. I know. Just think. She’s gonna be here soon.” He rubbed my stomach with his free hand and moved his thumb in small circles.

“I just want her out already.” I yawned and rested my head on his shoulder.

“Me too, love. Me too.”

#two worlds collide #two worlds collide part 13 #danisnotonfire imagine #daniel howell imagine #dan howell imagine #danfic #dan howell fanfic #dan howell x reader #dan howell fic #danielhowell

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downtomyunderoos · 4 years ago

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destined partner

// akihiko sanada (downtomyunderoos) & naoto shirogane (delusorydetective)

1. akihiko --

“You really shouldn’t have.”

2. naoto --

❝After that last expedition, I figured you could use something to take the edge off … I’m sure we all could.❞ The Detective Prince explained as she set a cup of tea on the table before Akihiko and took the seat across from from him.

After making some decent headway through The Group Date Cafe labyrinth, a majority of the group was left needing a well earned break, and for once Naoto intended to utilize it without taking time to analyze the situation … for now at least.

Setting her trademark hat onto the table, Naoto took up her own cup with a contented sigh. ❝I have to admit … at first I was a little skeptical about intermingling our teams in combat with the shadows … but I feel like we complimented each other quite well out there.❞

3. akihiko --

Talk about a 180.

To go from, and understandably so, not trusting their team (even he had already gotten used to her sharp scrutinization) to inviting one of its members for a cup of tea in a cheesy fuchsia atmosphere.

But Akihiko accepted anyway. Maybe Shirogane had the same idea: it would do good on their teams’ morale, building stronger camaraderie (aside from combining brains and brawn in making sure they got out of this debacle alive).

And, well, his interest piqued the moment she boldly approached him, for she had a distinct, serious demeanor from the rest of her ragtag group, coupled with her small stature up close. Who knew whether she debated this with the team or acted on her own volition. Akihiko took the heavy hint it was the latter especially considering the last battle. Unexpectedly, the two’s difference in skills had mingled well, nearly comfortably so.

“You’re not imagining it. I think we hit it off myself. Somehow it never occurred to me there being Persona users from other areas, but even if that’s the case, our combination’s solid already.”

He was hardly a tea drinker, picking up his cup and observing the contents before bringing the rim to his lips. That was, until what kept them separated was an automatic voice from overhead:

> “Well then… the time has come to announce your destined partner.”

4. naoto --

❝I doubt any of us really anticipated the existence of other persona users, although logically it was more likely than not. It now begs the question how many more are out there we don’t even know about.❞ The sudden occurrence of the robotic voice caused Naoto to lower her cup. So much for their little reprieve from battle. Taking up her hat from the table before her, the detective replaced it on her head with a sigh. ❝I don’t understand the purpose behind these questions. A ‘Destined Partner’ could never actually be decided through a questionnaire reminiscent of those which gullible teenage girls find online.❞ After all, sometimes two who answered questions the exact opposite could be more compatible. There were far more factors than superficial questions. At least the detective felt there should be, not that she was well versed in the subject though. Unless of course the voice had taken everything into consideration while it watched the two teams interact and battle, and the questionnaire was just a red herring. Though all of that was unlikely. ❝We should likely rejoin the others, although I’m fairly confident my presence won’t be required.❞ After all, it wasn’t her team that had any say in the matter. Naoto knew perfectly well if they had their say she would end up with Kanji, which she still didn’t quite understand. Sure, they were the same age, but he couldn’t even properly speak with her, how did that translate to them being compatible? Though before either could even move the voice returned,

“Your Destined Partner is … lo and behold … “

As a spotlight encompassed their table, Naoto wasn’t too surprised. Akihiko was a fairly attractive young man, and she figured his personality would be a good fit for several of the girls. Though moments later it finally sunk in that it wasn’t a spotlight, but two, one on each side of the table where the pair sat.

❝M-Me?!❞ She felt her cheeks heat up, desperately attempting to conceal her face behind the brim of her hat. There had to be some sort of mistake, right? What was she supposed to do now?

5. akihiko --

Thank god he wasn’t drinking. Akihiko would had showered his so-called destined partner with lavender tea and spit. Instead he noisily slammed his cup down onto its saucer. “Wh-what?!”

He couldn’t help being embarrassed. And hot from the burst of heat radiating from the sudden spotlight.

Akihiko squinted, immediately sensing bullshit, nonetheless. After all, despite the two discussing compatibility just a second ago, they were speaking battle-wise. They hardly knew one another. Akihiko doubted whoever was setting them up had much information on the two to even play the part of a clairvoyant and was merely toying with them.

( Unfortunately, two, hated memories resurfaced: his persistent fangirls pairing themselves with him and invading his personal space – and SEES’ encounter with the Arcana Lovers shadow back in July. )

Being manipulated like this… This alone was enough to provoke him and send him onto his feet, arms raised.

That was— until the floor specifically beneath him collapsed.

He didn’t know what occurred those few seconds, but he found himself in the opposite scenery now bright and vibrant, his sense of smell assaulted by pollen. Akihiko landed on his ass. When he attempted to get up, he realized his left hand had stubbornly grasped onto.. another hand. Shirogane’s hand. Akihiko could only glare at this awkwardly enforced development.

“Unh.. uh..?”

6. naoto --

Raising to her feet, Naoto anticipated this all to be an elaborate introduction to the labyrinth’s guardian and that soon enough they’d be back in the heat of battle. What she didn’t anticipate was the floor giving way beneath her. A moment passed before she was able to reclaim her composure, immediately shifting into detective mode as her eyes scanned her surroundings in an attempt to assess the situation. Somehow the labyrinth seemed to be gone, in it’s stead a flower field with a single path ahead, not a soul in sight. An odd warmth in her hand soon drew the detective’s attention, steely eyes shifting to her hand to identify the source … Instinctively, Naoto attempted to withdraw her hand, but to no avail, some unforeseen circumstance held their hands intertwined. Despite the fluster felt in the back of her mind, Naoto knew she had to take control of the situation, considering her companion’s expression.

❝Ah- Akihiko, are you alright? I’m not sure what’s going on, but our hands seem to be stuck like this-❞ Before she could finish, the mechanical voice returned, only making it harder for Naoto to keep her composure. More of that destined partners talk … what was this all about? None of it made sense. All Naoto knew was that the voice’s messages were becoming somewhat ominous. ❝… We might as well keep moving. Hopefully whatever is ‘waiting ahead’ will remedy our current situation a-and reunite us with the others.❞

7. akihiko --

Akihiko tugged (while being considerate of her, mind you), but no matter the struggle, her hand remained encased in his. Snug in a glove.

What in the world…

“Yeah, I’m okay.. for the most part. How about you? Sorry… Uh, I’m not doing this,” he swung their arms a little to imply, “on purpose. Just… ignore it, okay?” Akihiko resigned beside himself, closing his eyes in defeat. Then a sigh. At least Shirogane kept a level head. “Right, moving forward is all we can do. Let’s go.”

At first he didn’t particularly notice their difference in strides down the single path especially since he focused on getting to the source of this madness. Be it because of his nature, but keeping Shirogane close to him like this unconditionally made him felt comfortably protective. Yet realization slowly ceased his steps. Their situation that was clinging together now branded as security and a yearning for independence certainly clashed, and Akihiko bashfully peered down from the flaw.

“…I’m dragging you along, aren’t I? Sorry… It seems I was getting ahead of myself.” He looked at her, finally. “I won’t do it again. But try to stay close to me, okay?” Said with a small smile. Hopeful. Genuine. “I’ll make sure nothing happens to you throughout this.”

As they continued beneath reoccurring heart-shaped arches, Akihiko quietly considered what the mechanical voice said thus far. Something something about discussing love, love and marriage, but he hardly gave the topics much thought before. Almost as if a mental wall had been established. However, this cursed atmosphere made the idea inviting, relevant at present, with the desire to break the ice building up inside him.

“So, uh… ever gone out with anyone before? Would you want to?”

8. naoto --

While Naoto had given the initial insight to hasten through this particular area, Akihiko’s sudden charge caught her off guard, initially stumbling ahead until she managed to catch her footing. Her head shook at his comment, a sudden realization making itself known to her when he’d mentioned protecting her. While the detective wanted to point out her occupation and it’s hazards, not to mention the revolver she kept holstered at her side … it was practically useless now. Her dominant hand was currently occupied by Akihiko’s own, so even drawing it at the moment would be a struggle, and stuck together the way they were, the only option she had was to work cooperatively with him. A sigh escaped her as she gave a small nod. ❝It’s alright, and the same goes for you as well. While I may be petite, I am a detective. Let’s just hope that combat won’t be an aspect while we’re here.❞ The quiet as they walked hardly bothered Naoto as they traversed the strange path, although the voice’s words bothered her. What did they mean? And what could it possibly mean lay in wait for the two … Hearing Akihiko speak again drew the detective’s attention, although it was admittedly the last thing she expected to hear.

❝G-Gone out? Where is this coming from?❞ She looked away quickly, attempting to conceal the pink hue that was overtaking her cheeks. ❝N-No … not really. I’m usually so entrapped in my detective work I don’t think about that sort of thing … ❞ Another silence held her for a moment. ❝… Wh-what about you? I’m sure someone had to have caught your eye whom you’d probably much prefer to be stuck here with …❞

9. akihiko --

Akihiko nodded after she made clear of her capabilities, quietly satisfied with how practical and assured she sounded. Appearances aside, Shirogane did not compare at all with other girls, more specifically his fangirls. They would have had definitely taken advantage of this situation, possibly grabbing more of him than just his hand…

Anyway, it seemed he worried for nothing, although that wouldn’t stop him from being protective. Sorry—just his nature.

However, Shirogane’s immediate question to his magnified his own embarrassment, making him peek towards the sky as if he was mentally flying away and into heaven. But their hands were still interlocked.

At least she didn’t counterattack… Who knew what Shirogane was capable of there. Instead, Akihiko sensed her calmly talking herself through, and out of pity for both of them he had no choice but to play along. Tone-wise, at least…

“An actual detective, huh…?” he mumbled while his head remained upwards, at this likely simulated blue sky. “That’s really impressive, and almost hard to believe. But I think I can believe it after getting to know you… Dating would take up too much time if you’re not interested either… I’m pretty interested.” Wait.

“—I mean in detective work, not—”

Arghhhhhhh.

His flustered face drew itself her way, right about when she posed the same question back at him. He blinked, his mouth ever so slightly opened as if at a loss for words. Yet, while scratching at his cheek and then placing that hand beneath his chin, Akihiko seriously considered the inquiry, of anyone close to him since immediately anyone outside of that he couldn’t care less of.

“…Hmm, no… I wouldn’t want to subject anyone else to… this…” His hand squeezed hers, then he huffed in another direction. He couldn’t keep track of this conversation anymore. “S-sorry, I don’t know why I asked. Guess it’s the atmosphere, ha ha…”

10. naoto --

❝It’s not nearly as surprising as you’d think … The Shirogane family is full of detectives, so it was an obvious career choice. But thank you.❞ Not that she didn’t put in the work to garner her own fame, watching her Grandfather and starting young gave Naoto plenty of knowledge early to make a name for herself … or rather himself as the public believed. It was easier that way after all. Hearing Akihiko seeming to understand her stance on relationships came as a welcome surprise. Even her own Grandfather often attempted to encourage her to branch out, make more friends, enjoy her youth while she could, but that wasn’t what she was after. Naoto had dedicated her life, her time to her work. It was familiar to her, and relationships … those were complicated. Although before she could comment, he’d made the comment about being … interested? Yet again Naoto felt the fluster return, this whole situation more than she knew how to handle, before he’d elaborated. A wave of relief washed over her, although there was also a slight tinge of … disappointment? Was that what it was? As he attempted to continue the conversation, Naoto glanced to their conjoined hands before she began to chuckle. When was the last time she’d so openly laughed like this? She hoped he didn’t assume she was laughing at him, that was far from the case. It was simply that a sudden realization had occurred to her.

❝I’m sorry.❞ She finally managed amid her amusement. ❝It seems we share many opinions on this particular topic … and somehow whoever it is attempting to play fate here chose the most inept pair for this situation. Whatever they had been hoping to happen … I highly doubt they’re going to see out of us. We can hardly even talk about this without becoming far too flustered to continue.❞ The amusement once more bubbled the surfaced as she chuckled again. ❝Instead of succumbing to this place, why don’t we shift the topic to an interest it seems we share?❞ Looking ahead Naoto noticed a fork in the path up ahead, perhaps they were finally nearing the way out of this place, hopefully without some strange sort of decision deciding which path they chose. ❝What makes you interested in detective work?❞

11. akihiko --

Already tender enough, Akihiko nearly recoiled from confusion and pride at her change in manner. Even if it was just a moment, the sounds she made battered his ego, but speaking swaddled it in a blanket upon clarification. Shh, shh; there, there. He was thankful for a break. Akihiko caught on, softened at the humor and relatability he hadn’t expected. Shirogane was shrewd alright, making a point from their discomfort while he mentally scuttled for safety.

His savior.

Embarrassment eroded like a turtle poking its head out of its shell; Akihiko chuckled along. “‘Most inept pair’, huh? ..I kind of like the sound of that. Who would’ve thought we’d make whoever’s toying with us their biggest threat with those means.” How the table turned. For once Akihiko could be proud for not being the most romantic guy — or rather, for being the most hopeless. He imagined chucking his How to Chad book (one tip including not to be laughed at) into his dorm room’s trash bin with conviction.

Shirogane’s idea he looked forward to going along with.

“Let’s see…” Free hand returned to his chin in thought, their walk momentarily pausing before he started. “I know a guy… A police officer. He suspected our little persona group was up to something, but he always minded his business, at least when it came to details. He aided us with equipment, otherwise, but anyway… He helped me out before, and I had never gotten over it. And—I don’t know—I like the guy and how cool he was about everything.”

Akihiko couldn’t forget being scolded and personally advised as well, and although in context that could be deemed humiliating and unusual, in hindsight Kurosawa-san probably knew better than he did that Akihiko needed to hear those words. Perhaps there was fondness there. “I doubt police officers are usually like that, at least under those circumstances… Guess you’d call him an inspiration. Plus I’d get to work at my own pace as a detective.”

When they approached the fork in the path, Akihiko squinted ahead of them. He tugged at her hand as call for attention. “Hey… Let’s move forward. I see something up ahead.”

12. naoto --

Now that she thought about it, the idea just made more and more sense. Who better to throw into such a situation than the two level-headed in the group who would be made the most uncomfortable by it? Two that would be thrown off their game in fluster as they were unable to understand the situation, and unable to help their friends as well. That had to be it.

She once more tipped her, a slight feeling of guilt overtaking her at his comment. A bad habit of speaking her inner thoughts out loud, she hadn’t meant to make it sound so bad. Although fortunately, Akihiko seemed to take it well. Somehow, he seemed to understand her logic, able to look past the blunt nature of her words to the underlying meaning.

Listing to his story, there was another sort of similarity the two shared. Naoto had always looked up to her grandfather in a similiar way. Even with the struggles she faced in the field, he was always in her corner. While he tended to challenge her, it wasn’t in the condescending way some of the other police and detectives tended to, he wanted her to surpass even what he was capable of.

❝You’re not wrong. Many officers won’t be so encouraging, but you can’t let that stop you. I personally faced quite a bit of friction due to my age and … ❞ A slight pause, she didn’t always like to admit the facade she put on just to feel a little accepted, but it was the truth. ❝And my sex. Having an inspiration like that is something to hold onto. I look up to my Grandfather for similiar reasons and … It’s embarrassing, but I aspire to be like the detectives you find in Noir novels. I’ve been reading them since I was young.❞

Turning her attention back to the path, Naoto noticed what he was talking about. Some sort of board? As they drew close enough to make out the details, the detective once again found herself fighting back fluster and embarrassment.

❝What in the world-❞ Clearly a photo-shopped image, Naoto noticed the mismatched skin tones from their faces and bodies, and yet still she felt an embarrassment sinking in. Her grip on his hand tightened slightly, attempting not to let this get to her. They couldn’t fall into that trap again, and yet a thought came to mind.

❝You don’t think … they’re attempting to force something like this upon us, right? They couldn’t-… the labyrinth wouldn’t take this that far. It’s just some sort of trick to throw us off our game …❞

13. akihiko --

Personal hardships Shirogane revealed to have experienced left Akihiko with eyes downcast, facing forward. He didn’t know the extent of her pain, but nonetheless he sensed it through her hesitance — similarly to how Mitsuru uttered grievances bestowed upon her by the Kirijo Group. She never touched upon the details with him, but at most Akihiko understood being the only daughter made the situation, the company’s future, difficult than necessary.

But rather Shirogane’s story being an unfortunate one, it left with Akihiko discovering a personal fact about the aspiring detective at his side, which may or may not explain the way she carried herself. Regardless, Akihiko had already accepted the way she was. It wasn’t that deep to him.

“Ahh, I see. I’m.. sorry you had to go through that,” he said. Then he looked at her with curiosity. “Noir novels? You mean like Sherlock Holmes, right? What’s so embarrassing about that? Last I checked it’s normal to look up to heroes.”

Even Akihiko chased after ideals himself, one example being how strong he wanted to become. And boy did that photo made all his muscles tense. Rather than saying anything at all, Akihiko snarled. What was the meaning of this?! Was this some kind of omen?! Surely, the enemy wasn’t merely misunderstood, didn’t only believe they’d made a good couple and set up an arranged marriage — forced an endgame out of their lives. A mind trick maybe? Now that would be twisted.

He was affronted.

While Shirogane kept her wits about herself, Akihiko involuntarily huddled closer. “Arggh, they’re trying to rattle us! Keep your guard up!”

14. naoto --

Naoto shook her head. ❝You have no need to apologize, and it’s not like you’ve treated me that way. If anything it’s made me stronger as a detective, and as a person. Striving to prove them wrong pushed me to work harder … and it’s probably how I managed to make the name for myself I have.❞ She sighed softly, normally Naoto tended to be a more closed off person, although this conversation was much preferred to the alternative. ❝Normally yes, it would be normal to look up to heroes but I’ve been around detectives my entire life, some people find it childish to look up to idealized fictional characters. I’ve been a detective since I was young, so finding interest in fiction can seem … silly. Although it’s a nice change of pace I suppose.❞ Realizing the gravity of the situation, the detective managed, somehow, to get a hold of herself. They couldn’t get worked up over this, that would only distract them. No matter what came next in this twisted game, they would have to approach it calmly if they wanted any chance at all to overcome it. A serious expression claimed Naoto’s features as she stepped in front of Akihiko, lightly squeezing his hand to grasp his attention.

❝Akihiko.❞ She stated firmly. ❝You’re letting them get into your head again. It’s simply a doctored photograph, not reality. This world … isn’t reality. No matter what comes next, the sooner we defeat this labyrinth, the sooner it’ll be over.❞ As terrifying as the uncertainty could be, Naoto knew it wouldn’t last. And besides, if the information they’d gathered about this world was true, they wouldn’t remember any of this when they finally made it home, maybe that’s why it was so easy to open up now. Once they were out of here they wouldn’t remember each other, and possibly would never again encounter each other in the real world. ❝Once you’ve composed yourself we’ll keep moving. If this is anything to go by, we’re likely nearing the end of this place. I’d rather not face this places’ shadow at further disadvantage.❞ After all, as far as she knew, it would just be the two of them facing off with this entity, and at the moment she couldn’t even utilize her dominant hand.

15. akihiko --

Working hard to prove others wrong. It was as if his subconscious just spoke.

Shirogane unknowingly described his own secret—why Akihiko presented himself the way he did appearance and behavorial-wise, why he was so preoccupied with strength. He felt himself go hot for a moment, as if he had been caught with having done something naughty. This was dangerous territory in another sense. Thankfully, however, this wasn’t about him.

“It’s not as though anyone else needs to know. But be it real or fiction, it doesn’t matter. It’s important to you.” To each their own, but Akihiko never liked being snubbed for his passion for training and exercise. He would’ve appreciated having a training partner, but that was a complicated endeavor to accomplish, everyone’s excuses squirming them out of reach. “Have you heard of Phoenix Ranger Featherman R? I’d be surprised if you haven’t, it’s popular with kids and adults.” Did she get where he was going with this?

Shirogane’s inflection broke him out of his rage-induced spell. He shakily yet sharply inhaled while he listened.

“I know… I’m sorry.. I know. I’m—just alert.”

He felt guilty for reacting so obviously aggressive (oh, the irony), but now wasn’t the time. Beyond the shoddily-manipulated image stretched another long-winded path. He closed his eyes and took another deep breath. Opened them, unveiling a determined aura. “We should hurry and get out of here.”

This prompted them to continue the dreadful trek. Akihiko dared not to ruminate over these past several minutes, but he was, as if he could help it, conscious of Shirogane. She demonstrated strength back there, and to himself he commended her. Now they were back on the same page, after the same faceless target and destination.

Then it clicked.

She did feel like a partner.

#delusorydetective #rp:ic #akihiko to naoto shirogane #for the archive!

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royalfoxfics · 7 years ago

Photo

Art by Twin Doodles

Ao3

FF.net

In which Pollen meets the 21st century, there is a lot of yelling, and repressed homosexuality overrides self-preservation.

“…loe? Chloe? Chloe?”

Chloe woke up with a start. Someone was calling her name and shaking her shoulder. She tried to move but her whole body felt sluggish. Every part of her felt uncomfortably cold and heavy. Her legs felt like they were tied together, and while she wanted to open her eyes, only one of them seemed to be working properly. When she did manage to will it open, she was blinded by a bright light overhead. Squinting, she could just make out a dark shadow looming over her. She clumsily tried to bat it away with her numbed and heavy arms.

“Whoa, calm down its only me,” the shadow said. She blinked a few times and the face of Adrien Agreste swam into view.

“Adrien? What happened? Where am…” She looked around and recognized the school nurse’s office. She looked down and saw the bandages partially mummifying her and holding the now melted icepacks to her shivering body.

“You’ve been in here all morning. It’s already time for lunch,” Adrien explained, helping her to sit up. “I came to check on you and passed the nurse on her way out. She said you were sleeping, and to wake you at my own risk. Looks like you were pretty tired.”

“Get this stuff off me,” Chloe ordered, already trying to rip off the bandages holding the icepack over her eye.

“I don’t know, Chloe. Maybe you should leave that stuff on? I mean if the nurse thought it was necessary-“

He stopped when he saw the one-eyed glare Chloe was giving him and quickly began working on the bandages wound about her legs.

Once Chloe was unwrapped, she began stretching out and rubbing her limbs in an attempt to get the feeling back in them.

“I swear I’m going to sue this whole school if I get frostbite,” she muttered, rubbing her legs furiously and grimacing at the wet patches the ice packs had left. “And if these pants are ruined…”

“I’d think you’d be more concerned with your eye,” Adrien commented. “It still looks pretty bad. What did you do last night? You were fine when I left you.”

Chloe glared at her purse.

“The little gift you gave me got opened early by accident. Turns out our royal majesty thinks they’re too good to be partnered with a mere mayor’s daughter.”

“A corrupt mayor’s daughter,” Pollen called from inside the purse.

A second later they flew out through the white leather lining as if it were made of smoke. Chloe’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor.

“You? How? Since when could you do that!?” she demanded, pointing at the smugly smiling Pollen.

“Oh, we Kwami’s are capable of much you humans would consider ‘impossible.’ When we’re properly fed that is,” Pollen added, under their breath. “Speaking of which, you must be Plagg’s chosen. I can smell that horrible cheese on you from here. You have my deepest sympathies.”

Plagg flew out from Adrien’s shirt a second later.

“Pollen.” He greeted the other Kwami friendly enough, though there was a slight edge to his voice. “Haven’t seen you for a couple of centuries. Were you asleep so long you forgot that were not supposed to hurt our own masters?”

Pollen at least had the grace to look ashamed.

“It was purely in self-defense,” they argued, crossing their little arms and giving that wretched air of superiority Chloe hated so much.

“Oh yeah,” Plagg mockingly agreed, flying up to Chloe and looking her over. “I can see why the Kwami of Leadership would need to defend themself against the mean, scawy teenage girl.”

Chloe smiled as she saw the fluff on Pollens chest begin to swell up with indignation.

“I’ll have you know, We were at a grievous disadvantage against that barbarian!” they exclaimed, gesturing at Chloe. “We awoke without any idea of where We were, or what year it was, and We were extremely weak! We were captured in some insidious trap for hours until We were viciously attacked, completely unprovoked We might add, by that ruffian over there!”

“They got stuck in a box of tissues because they thought it was a bed, and I threw a pillow at it when it started flying around,” Chloe summarized.

Adrien fought to keep down his smile while Plagg openly laughed at Pollen, who’s fluff was threatening to swallow the lower half of their face.

“To be fair,” Adrien said, “Plagg tried eating half my room when he first woke up.”

“Did he also spend five minutes hiding under a tea cup from the TV?” Chloe asked.

“How were We supposed to know that the small man in that window could not see us!?”

Plagg laughed even harder and rolled onto his back in midair, tiny tears forming in his eyes.

“And let’s not forget the little adventure you had with my makeup case this morning…”

“You are most fortunate We discovered how toxic that powder was before you put it on your face! You owe your life to Us!”

Chloe rolled her eyes as Plagg continued to laugh and kicked his feet as he tried to remain hovering. Pollen looked like they were about to explode in a cloud of angry white fluff, so Chloe gave them a smug smile.

“Well, as fascinating as this conversation is, I’m sure you and Plagg have loads to catch up on,” Adrien said quickly. “Why don’t you two go somewhere else for a bit while I have a word with Chloe?”

Pollen scoffed and turned their nose up at Adrien, but Plagg regained some control over himself (eventually,) and led Pollen through the thin sheet separating the beds, wiping his eyes as they went. When they were gone Adrien turned back to Chloe.

“Chloe, I am so sorry. I had no idea he, er, she,”

“They, prefer the royal ‘We,” Chloe said, striking her own regal speaking pose. “Apparently, that little bug thinks they’re the literal embodiment of royalty. Everybody and everything is beneath them. I let them read my history book last night instead of just sealing them back in their box, and the ungrateful brat kept waking me up to ask where some missing pages were! And again to ask if I had the book in Latin, because they liked the shape of the letters more!”

“Huh,” was all Adrien could think to say.

Chloe just groaned and continued.

“I swear, nothing is worth this. I ordered some extra honey with my breakfast this morning, ‘cause I figured ‘hey, bees like honey’ right? You know what they did? They called me a racist and chewed me out for nearly fifteen minutes until I ordered them some tea. Tea, Adrian! How was I supposed to know that thing ran exclusively on tea?”

“Better than smelly cheese,” Adrien muttered.

“I just…”

Chloe picked up a pillow and screamed into it. Adrien cautiously rubbed small circles on her back as she continued to scream for a surprisingly long time. When she was done, she sat back up and handed the pillow to Adrien. Adrien took the pillow uncertainly and set it down next to him. Chloe took a deep breath and checked her hair.

“I’m a bit stressed out, Adrien,” she said finally.

“I… wouldn’t have guessed.”

She shot him an unamused look.

Then she closed her eyes and sighed. She still looked tired, but at least the bags under her eyes had disappeared. Well, from one of them anyway.

She reached up and pulled out the comb, undoing her ponytail and letting her hair fall loose against her back.

“I don’t think I’m supposed to have this,” she confided, looking down at the comb as she held it in her open hand. “Everything went to hell the moment I touched it. I’m not supposed to have a miraculous. Even the kayami of the thing thinks so.”

Adrien reached over and closed her hand around the miraculous. She looked up and saw him smiling softly at her.

“It’s pronounced ‘Kwami,” he said, gently. “And I wouldn’t worry too much. I didn’t really get along with Plagg at first either.”

“Oh? I don’t remember you ever showing up with one of these.”

Chloe pointed to her face and Adrien winced.

“Well… No. And I’m super sorry, Chloe. I had no idea Kwami’s could hurt people like that.”

Chloe scoffed.

“I told you, the black eye is from falling through my closet door. You should have seen the bee stings I was covered in last night, though...”

“Bee stings?” Adrien repeated, completely shocked.

Chloe just waved him away dismissively.

“I’m fine,” she said again. “I’m just sleeping with a flyswatter under my pillow tonight.”

When he didn’t say anything, she glanced back at him and felt her chest lurch at the big watery green eyes looking back at her.

“I didn’t mean for you to… I’m so sorry I… I didn’t mean…”

Chloe sighed and rolled her eyes, pulling him into a hug and patting his back before he started bawling his eyes out with guilt. He held on to her and tried to fight back his tears.

“I told you, it’s all right,” she repeated, patting his back and silently hoping he didn’t get any snot on her shirt. “It’s my fault for opening the box. I should have waited till today like you said too. It’s okay… you big baby.”

“I’m a hero of Paris,” he said back through a stuffy nose. He quickly pulled back and started to wipe his eyes indignantly. Chloe handed him the box of commoner’s tissues next to her and he took a few quickly.

“How did you ever get by without me?” Chloe wondered aloud as Adrian blew his nose.

“Very stoically,” he snapped.

Then he added,

“…and lots of cartoons.”

“Ah,” Chloe acknowledged, nodding her head. “That explains a lot actually.”

Before Adrien could ask what she meant by that, Plagg called to them from the other room.

“Uh, Kids? I think you better come see this.”

Adrien pulled back the curtain and they saw Plagg and Pollen hovering in front of a mounted television near the nurse’s desk. It was tuned in to the local news, which was showing a scene of chaos as a swarm of oddly shaped… somethings were rampaging their way through the nearby park.

“I didn’t do it this time,” Chloe said immediately.

Adrien just rolled his eyes and turned up the volume on the TV.

“This is Reporter Nadja Charmack: TVi, live on the scene at Palace De Vogses where the newest Akuma attack is in progress. Eye witnesses have so far been unable to identify the Akuma’s target, or identity due to-AAAAAAAAA!“

Award winning Reporter Nadja Carmack suddenly screamed and the camera whipped around to show her beating back what must have been some of the Akuma’s minions with her microphone. They didn’t look human. Some of them may have looked vaguely humanlike, but their bodies were far to flat looking, and their maniacal faces and clothes seemed to have been drawn onto them with some sort of thick ink. Most of them were just various shapes with stick figure limbs poking out, and faces pulled out of a demented children’s drawing. One looked like a flat circle wielding a wooden spoon. Another like a gibbering crescent waving a spatula in the air like a sword, and there were several long, rounded beasties running around on all fours that were constantly frothing at the mouth. They almost looked like…

“Are… are those monstrous pastries?” Pollen asked, flying up to closely examine the screen.

“Sure looks like it,” Adrien agreed.

Chloe scoffed.

“A bit out of season for gingerbread men though, don’t you think?” she asked.

No sooner had she spoken, then the cameraman was overpowered by a particularly deranged looking three foot gingerbread man, complete with swirls for eyes drawn on with animatedly spinning icing. The cameraman gave a cry of surprise, and after a very quick zoom in on the gingerbread man’s sugary pointed teeth, the live feed went dead. The screen was filled with static for a moment before the “technical difficulties” sign went up. The screen switched cameras to the news anchor as he was complaining about the coffee in his mug having no cream.

“Well, looks like lunch will have to wait till after we finish off dessert,” Adrien said, switching off the TV as the anchor realized he was on air.

Adrien turned and gave Chloe his best Chat Noir smirk. Chloe rolled her eyes at him.

“Shouldn’t you be doing your little dance already?”

Adrien stepped back and gave Chloe a little bow with a sweep of his hand.

“Ladies first.”

Chloe blinked in surprise.

“Wait you… You want me to go out there and fight those things?”

“What?” Pollen asked, turning back around from their attempts at trying to find where the small man in the window had gone.

“Well, not by yourself,” Adrien assured Chloe. “Ladybug and I will be right there with you. We’ll handle the Akuma, you can focus on dealing with the minions.

“Adrien, do I really look like I’m ready to get into a fight with a bunch of evil edibles?”

Chloe gestured to her black eye again.

“Come on kid, small annoying pests should be your specialty by now,” Plagg countered.

“What was that?” Pollen gave him a dangerous look.

“It’ll be easy, Chloe. Even if you get hit, you’ll hardly feel a thing under your suit. I’ve been thrown into a wall before, and it didn’t leave a scratch on me,” Adrien boasted.

Plagg wilted a bit and added,

“Yeah, I’d recommend you try not to do that though…”

Chloe shook her head in disbelief.

“You can’t seriously expect me to go up against a real Akuma my first time!”

“Why not? I did!” Adrien replied with a smile.

“Yeah, and I remember exactly how well that went!” Chloe argued, rolling her eyes.

Adrien rubbed his neck uncomfortably, but Plagg wasn’t dissuaded so easily.

“Exactly,” he said, flying around to hover close to Chloe’s shoulder. “So maybe this time, you’ll be the one that rescues the pretty girl from certain death.”

Chloe’s eyes lit up like Sapphic little stars.

Seeing this, Pollen immediately flew to her other shoulder and began trying to talk sense into her.

“What? No, no, no. You are much to injured to go fighting the forces of evil today. Besides We… We have not had any sustenance since this morning! We could not possibly hold a transformation for longer than a few seconds at most.”

“Don’t listen to that royal stick in the mud,” Plagg practically purred in her ear. “They’ve got more than enough juice. You should be thinking about what it’ll be like to be in Ladybugs shoes for once. How it’ll feel to sweep your damsel in distress off her feet and fly her away to safety. Feel her snuggled safe in your arms as she looks up at you like you’re her hero. Maybe she’ll even want to show you how appreciative she really is.”

“You… You can’t seriously be listening to this smelly little varmint!?”

But Chloe was listening. In fact, she was staring down a the miraculous she was holding and nearly drooling over it. She turned to Pollen with a doofy smile on her face.

“W-well I mean, I’m sure we can handle a couple of overgrown cupcakes, right?”

Chloe smiled at them while she giggled and played with her hair. Pollen stared at her. Plagg gave them a smug grin and flew back to Adrien. Adrien gave him an impressed, but questioning look.

“What?” Plagg asked with poorly feigned innocence.

Adrien just shook his head and turned back to Chloe. She still looked a little dreamy over the potential possibilities Plagg had laid out for her. Adrien cleared his throat and she snapped out of her daydreaming. She shook her head, and he tried not to notice the deep blush that covered most of her face.

“Right, well. Uh…”

She cleared her own throat and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. Stepping over to a mirror to check how it looked, she stuck the comb back in and turned around to face the group. She took a deep breath, and exhaled quickly.

“Okay, let’s do this.”

She smiled at them. A little nervously, but Adrien and Plagg reassured them with smiles of their own.

Pollen however was still hovering in midair, and still staring at the spot where Chloe’s head had been.

“Um… Pollen? Pollen?”

They gave no sign that they had heard her. Chloe looked from them to the other two who both shrugged unhelpfully. She approached Pollen carefully and waved a hand in front of them. Pollen still gave no sign of awareness, so Chloe tried snapping her fingers directly in front of their face. The Kwami finally seemed to regain their senses, and shook their head as if coming out of a trance. Just like every other time they had become lost in their own world, Pollen looked around the room as though not sure where they were until they saw Chloe. Their eyes narrowed angrily at the sight of her.

“What? Why are you always staring at us like that? We do not like it, it makes us feel very uncomfortable.”

“Are you… feeling okay?” Chloe asked carefully.

Pollen scoffed and turned their nose up at her again.

“We are as fine as We can be with a gangly ape like you as our master.”

“Why you little-”

“Whoa, hey!” Adrien quickly moved himself between the two of them, nearly having to physically hold Chloe back from attacking what was supposed to have been her partner. “How about we all just take it down a notch, okay?”

Chloe fumed and ground her teeth as she looked from Pollen to Adrien.

“You see what they’re like? You see what that thing is like?” she demanded, pointing furiously at Pollen.

Adrien did his best to calm her down, though he shot Pollen an angry look showing he completely agreed with her. Pollen just scoffed and turned their nose up at him too.

“Shouldn’t you be seeing to that Akuma, Chat Noir?”

Adrien didn’t much care for the way Pollen said his name, but they had a point. They couldn’t afford to waste time fighting like this. Ladybug was probably already on her way, and while he was sure she’d be okay on her own for a little while, she couldn’t take down an Akuma with that many minions on her own. He looked desperately at Plagg for help. He shrugged.

“Ehe, I’m sure Ladybug can take care of it.”

Adrien briefly considered just handing Chloe a nearby clipboard and getting one for himself.

“Errr, we don’t have time for this!” Chloe roared.

With a grunt of anger, she pushed Adrien away, causing him to topple safely onto the bed behind him, and stormed over to Pollen. The Kwami seemed momentarily unable to decide between fight or flight, and Chloe took advantage of their indecision to grab them sharply by the fluff on their chest with her index finger and thumb. She locked eyes with her trapped prey, and Pollen was so taken aback by the raw fury that burned in them, they forgot to scoff.

“Start talking,” Chloe growled down at them. “Or I will feed you to an industrial grade food processor.”

Pollen had no idea what an “industrial grade food processor” was, but some threats simply transcended a minor generational gap like two hundred years.

“V-very well!” Pollen conceded, attempting to wriggle free. Though certainly not because they were the least bit intimidated. “Just unhand us already!”

Chloe let go and Pollen flew back several feet into the wall. Chloe put her hands on her hips and tapped her foot impatiently as Pollen muttered to themself and tried to fix the tuft of fluff she had matted together. Adrien remained where he had landed on the bed, not daring to move and looking from Chloe to Plagg, who was nonchalantly drifting behind a curtain to get out of sight.

Chloe’s patience was at its’ end.

“Well?”

“Just a moment!” Pollen snapped back. They finished preening themself to a semi-passable state, then turned to glare back at Chloe.

“As We have no means of preventing you, very well. We shall now begin our lesson on the art that is wielding our miraculous.”

“Come on, make it snappy!” Chloe demanded, snapping her own fingers at Pollen. “We don’t have all day here.”

Pollen looked like they were about to say something, but stopped and only glared at Chloe for a moment instead. Then they continued.

“The first step to using a miraculous, is to wear it,” Pollen emphasized.

Chloe turned her head and indicated the comb holding her ponytail in place.

“Already wearing it, genius. Next?”

Pollen looked momentarily confused before quickly putting their nose in the air again.

“Yes… Well. Indeed you are.” They gave a little cough and continued. “Each miraculous is activated by a particular phrase decided upon by the Kwami. You will need to repeat this phrase in order to let us fuse with the miraculous and grant you your abilities.”

Chloe closed her eyes and waved her hand dismissively.

“Yeah yeah, I do a little dance and strike a dramatic pose at the end. I saw all this last night when Chat Noir did it. Just tell me what my catch phrase is already.”

“Your… Your what?”

“What do I say to transform!?” Chloe yelled.

“Do not rush us!” Pollen screamed back. “Once a Kwami is fused with its’ miraculous they cannot communicate with their barer directly. You will be completely on your own once We have been absorbed, so you had best listen closely and stop interrupting!”

“They actually have a point, Chloe.”

Chloe turned and rounded on Adrien, who froze as he was starting to sit up on the bed. She closed her eyes and let out an aggravated sigh, not wanting to take out her anger on him.

Adrien watched her closely for a second before daring to continue getting up.

“I’m just speaking from experience here. I waisted my first Cataclysm because I transformed before Plagg had explained everything. At least hear what your powers are before we head out.”

“Thank you, young man.” Pollen nodded gratefully towards Adrien.

“Alright fine!”

Chloe threw up her hands and sat down on the edge of the other bed in a huff. Pollen smiled at the sight.

“Now as We were saying, in addition to the more specific abilities We grant you, using a miraculous will also offer you some additional advantages,” they told her, but Chloe cut them off again.

“I’ll have enhanced speed, strength, endurance, and coordination. The suit will protect me from any minor injuries, even on my face where it looks like bare skin. My weapon will have multiple uses and will obey my commands perfectly unless it’s knocked away from me. I activate my superpower by saying its’ name, and once I use it I’ll only have about five minutes left of my transformation. The miraculous will count down to show me how long I have left.”

Everyone stared at Chloe as she finished. When she saw the stunned look Pollen was giving her she smugly added,

“What? I think I’ve been rescued enough times to know how it works.”

“True,” Adrien agreed. “But I also recognize most of that from Alya’s ‘Miraculous Analysis’ post on the Ladyblog.”

Chloe reddened again.

“Cesaire got most of that from her interview with me anyway!”

“Mhmm.”

“Oh what-ever.” Chloe crossed her arms again and focused back on Pollen to avoid looking at the knowing smirk Adrien was giving her. “So what’s my superpower?”

Pollen looked up, startled before they could drift off again.

“What? Oh, your power? Yes. Uhm. Give us a moment…”

Chloe rolled her eyes.

“Come on hurry up already!”

“I told you not to interrupt!” Pollen snapped. “Now you’ve gotten us all flustered.”

Chloe buried her face in her hands and groaned. Adrien rubbed her back and looked pleadingly over to Plagg.

Plagg groaned too and rolled his eyes.

“Come on. The kid’s right, we gotta go.”

“We are aware,” they snapped.

Pollen’s face was contorted with concentration. Plagg straightened up and watched them with new interest.

“Wait… do you… Do you actually not remember how to use your own superpower?”

“Of course We remember, you smelly rat! We just… It has been a while and We….”

Chloe looked up at Pollen, and then back to Adrian and Plagg.

“Pollen?” She asked, impatiently.

“We know…” they grumbled.

“Are you seriously telling me you’ve been so busy stuffing your face with tee, and getting scared by makeup kits you haven’t even tried to remember how to be a superhero!”

“We have been thinking of little else!” they roared back.

Chloe stood up to look the Kwami eye to eye. Adrien tried to get her to sit down again but she shook him off.

“So what have you remembered?”

Pollen went silent and turned to look at a blank wall.”

“Pollen!”

“We are the Kwami of Leadership, and We enjoy tea..”

Chloe rolled her eyes.

“Great. What about how to use your superpower?”

“…We would appear to be having some difficulty recalling the… exact phrasing, at this moment.”

Chloe slapped a hand to her face and groaned. Adrien made to say something but she held up a hand. Chloe took a deep, calming breath and tried to relax.

“Fine. Let’s… work backwards then, maybe it’ll help you remember.”

“Very well,” Pollen said flatly, still keeping their eyes on the wall.

“Okay, well, what does it do?”

“What does what do?” Pollen asked, turning a little further away from Chloe...

“Your superpower,” Chloe repeated, feeling a vain in her head beginning to throb. “What does it do?”

“Something… super. And powerful.”

“…Pollen, look at me.”

The Kwami turned slowly in midair to face her. Their face was a mask of perfect neutrality, though their antenna seemed to be trying to curl in on themselves. Chloe kept her own expression neutral as well.

“Do you remember what your superpower is?”

“Not at all.”

“…”

A pin dropping to the floor would have echoed like a clap of thunder in the silence that followed.

Authors Notes:

Regarding all your feedback: Wow. Just… Wow. The response for this fic so far has been better than I could have hoped. All of you saying how much you love my take on Chloe is just… Amazing is the only word I have for it. I’ve gotten wonderful comments from you all saying how much you laughed at Pollen and Chloe’s antics, and how heartwarming you found Chloe’s relationship with Adrien. I hope I can continue to meet all your expectations in the future. I started writing this fic for myself, and I will continue to do so, but your continued support makes it so much easier to keep pouring myself into this project.

Regarding the transformation phrases: Transformation phrases like “Spots On” and “Claws Out” seem to be found mostly in the English translation of the show. Since that’s the version I watched, that’s the cannon I went off of when writing this fic. Until it became clear it had to become an A.U. anyway. I love the idea that the Kwami’s have to update the phrase every generation or so. I’d also love to have heard Hawkmoth having to argue with Nooroo about changing his to something as edgy as “Dark Wings Rise.”

#Chlolya #Adrien and Chloe sibling love #Pollen #chloe bourgeois #adrien agreste #Useless Lesbian Chloe #Eventual RoyalFox

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blatherkatt · 7 years ago

Text

Title: The Calm Is Terrifying When The Storm Is All You Know [Homestuck]

Chapter 17: Sorry

Summary: There were two kinds of trolls who went to Earth: rich shitheads with too much money and free time, and desperate assholes who couldn’t survive on Alternia, even with the best efforts of the young Condesce. Karkat hated the planet almost immediately, but with his home planet too dangerous for mutants, he really didn’t have any choice but to hide out on this weird little diurnal planet. At least he’d be safe. Or so he thought, right before blundering his way into an accidental friendship with the son of an anti-troll terrorist.

Rating: M

Chapter Warnings: Mentioned/implied abuse, brief description of gross healing wound stuff; Illustrated

FIRST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

“It was, um. I, uh. Fuck. Br-I mean, B-fuck, Dad —“

“Easy, kid, Jesus,” Terezi said, cutting Dave off. “I told you, I’m gonna do everything I can to make sure you’re not in too much trouble with this. You did the right thing by being honest, and as long as you keep being honest just a bit longer, I’ll do everything I can to make sure you’re not held at fault for this, okay? Just keep calm and try again. Start at the beginning. When did this start?”

“Uh.” Dave fidgeted in his chair. They were in one of the guest rooms (the one Karkat was staying in, most likely, judging by the lack of color scenting the air; Terezi would have questioned Dave in his own room, but suspected that he would be uncomfortable having a cop in the only space he really had any privacy), away from the ongoing hassle downstairs so that Terezi could get as close to the full story as possible. Terezi was recording the audio of the exchange for evidence later - she’d planned on video footage, but the camera had seemed to make Dave nervous, so, audio it was. Dave continued, “Do you mean, like. ‘This’ as in everything, or ‘this’ as in what went down tonight?”

Terezi sighed. “Ideally, the sooner you tell us everything you know about Strider, the better,” she explained. “The more we know about him, the better we’ll be able to protect you and a whole bunch of other people from him, and as a bonus, having some really concrete shit on the guy would get my fucking superiors to maybe take me seriously about giving your family a proper God damned protection detail, but I’m not keeping my hopes up. So if it’s all you’re willing to say, then just tonight’s details will do fine, but more is appreciated.”

Dave gulped audibly and shifted again.

“Okay,” Terezi said, “Let’s start with this, then. You knew about this plan ahead of time. That’s not a question, I don’t need you to confirm it, you had to know or else you wouldn’t have been able to give us an exact time and a close estimate on how many people were coming. What I do want to know is, how? How did this get planned, and how were you made aware of it?”

“…Um,” Dave gulped. “Supposing I, uh. Didn’t exactly follow all the rules one time, would…”

“As long as you’re honest, I’ll forgive it,” Terezi said. “Call it a warning if you want. Repeat infractions would be a bad idea, but right now it’s more important that you tell me what happened.”

“I, uh.” Dave took a deep breath before answering. “Two months ago, back in June, he, uh, Dad, he sent T—sent one of his guys up. He waited out in the forest and signaled me to come out with a flashlight.”

“And you went out to him?”

“Sorry,” Dave said, pulling back.

“It’s fine. Don’t do it again. What happened? Why didn’t that guy just take you away?”

“He, uh. He said…It’s. D-dad’s kinda paranoid, you know? And I’ve heard him and…uh, I’ve heard him talking with…I’ve heard him talk about how if he wanted to be ambitious enough to take things across state lines, they’d have to be really careful about it. His face is everywhere, n’ all.” Dave paused. Terezi could hear his breathing pick up. Poor kid was terrified to share even this much, no wonder he’d sat on the knowledge of this plan for so long. “And he’d come up with a way of doing it, involving setting up, uh, a whole lot of people in a sort of…chain? So that he could regularly switch cars and sorta smuggle himself across state lines without getting caught, so that no one car or truck or whatever would be identified as having him in it just in case he did get seen in one. And, uh, the guy he sent said that, uh, since I got caught by the police, they’d have to do the same thing, but in reverse, and that it’d take a while to set everything up.”

“Makes sense, I suppose. Fuck, if he ever does try to take things out of Texas, he’s really gonna be a pain in the ass to track.” Terezi pinched the bridge of her nose momentarily. “Alright. So did you meet with this guy multiple times to keep up on how things were going, or…?”

“No,” Dave said. “I mean, if something changed, he woulda come back, I think, but. He just told me the date and time and to come out to the same spot he met me. Said we’d do it at four in the morning cuz people are really deep asleep just before dawn, or something, so it’d be easier for me to sneak out.”

“Right.” Terezi tapped her finger against her knee. “So. Next question. Did he mention anything about a car accident in all this?”

“What?”

Terezi scowled. “There was a massive car wreck on the intersection leading into the only road down to your house. Big mess of a thing. Investigations into it suggest foul play, as if the timing didn’t already make me suspicious. It kept the police from getting down to your house in time, and it’s likely that if you hadn’t told Dirk when you did, it would’ve taken them even longer to clear the road. Did he mention anything about that being part of the plan?”

Dave was quiet for a long moment. Eventually, he said, “No, but…he probably wouldn’t have told me that bit, anyway. Sounds like the kinda thing the old man woulda done.”

“Why?” Terezi said. “Why assume you’re going to talk and plan ahead?”

“I dunno if he thought I was gonna talk,” Dave said, “so much as he probably just figured I was gonna fuck something up. He, uh, tends to make any plans where I’m involved under the assumption I’ll screw it up somehow. ’S why he sent so many people, too, I’d guess.” He fidgeted again. “He’s not exactly wrong, either. I’m kinda useless at a lot of this shit.”

“Only thing you did wrong this time is waiting so long to tell us,” Terezi said. “Well, that and going outside to meet some asshole in the woods. But you did tell us, at least.”

“Sorry.”

“Look, Dave,” Terezi said, weary to her very bones, “All I’m asking is that if any of this shit happens again, just…tell us right away, alright? If you want to stay here, you can, as long as you want. Indefinitely. But the only way I can really protect you is if you tell me this shit is happening. If the guy comes back with a flashlight again, tell Dirk or your mom so that they can call me or the local police. He tries to contact you some other way, your reaction should be the same. That’s all I’m asking.”

“Sorry.”

Kanaya stood before the reflecting panel of the ablutionblock, her hair still gently dripping as she carefully wrapped the long strip of gauze in her hands around her middle. The wound wasn’t…bleeding anymore, exactly, but it was rather unpleasantly oozing a bit, and Kanaya didn’t want to stain any more of her clothing than was strictly necessary. The wash had been a long one; she’d cleaned most of the blood off of her skin (and, alright, maybe licked up just a little bit more of it) with a fair amount of ease, but getting it out of her hair was a nightmare consuming an hour’s worth of her time, during which she kept finding more spots on her skin, horns, and claws that had somehow missed the initial run-through. She was very glad to no longer feel sticky.

Still a little hungry, but that could be dealt with later. Probably. Did she even need to drink blood, she wondered, or was it optional? Was this going to be a constant urge permanently? Troubling thoughts, to be sure. She’d have to do a bit of research, see if she could find any other actual rainbow drinkers. There were always rumors of them, enough that believing they existed back on Alternia was more reasonable than not believing in them, but Kanaya had certainly never actually met one, to her knowledge.

Slipping the nightgown she’d selected (and had Rose carry, to avoid sullying the garment with her then-bloody hands), she checked herself over in the mirror. She really was very brightly glowing, now. Good grief, that would certainly be awkward to explain to people, not to mention making it difficult for her to avoid attention if the need for such ever arose. Maybe there was a way to turn it off?

(At the very least, she was grateful she could see herself in the reflecting panel, unlike Earth’s version of rainbow drinkers. Why the creatures apparently did not show up on reflecting surfaces, Kanaya wasn’t sure, but it must make dressing properly quite the extra hassle.)

Hm. Perhaps the nightgown had been the wrong choice of outfit, too. Everyone else in the hive was pushing toward getting some rest, after the long night, but Kanaya still felt…charged. Full of energy and ready for anything. It was likely a side effect of the whole…suddenly-becoming-a-rainbow-drinker thing. Which. Hopefully there would not be too many of.

For all the allure of rainbow drinker lore, some of the side effects some stories spoke of were…worrying. They were creatures of a great deal of myth and obscurity, and Kanaya had no clue how much of the variable quirks and such of the beings in her books would apply to her new reality. She really didn’t want to go feral again. A repeat experience of biting people who did not agree to it would be…undesirable.

Again, she worried about whether this desire for blood was just a biological urge with no major consequences to ignoring, or if she actually needed it to survive. Ugh. This was going to be tricky to deal with, either way. She’d already noticed an increased awareness of the pulsing of everyone around her’s cardiovascular systems, right down to little Jaspers (who she had NO intention of harming, good grief, that was a purely monstrous thought even in passing).

She stepped out of the ablution block and nearly bumped into Dave, who made a very concerted effort to leap right through the ceiling at her sudden appearance. Terezi, looking thoroughly exhausted, pushed past the both of them and headed downstairs, but Kanaya called out for Dave as he turned to head into his own room.

“Wait,” she said, “If I could speak to you for a moment?”

He froze, his pulse hammering out a quick staccato beat, then turned slowly, a mumbled “Sure” on his lips.

Kanaya tried to smile as nonthreateningly as possible. “Well, I would like to apologize first for startling you as I did a moment ago, but, more importantly I wanted to thank you.”

“I…what?”

“I mean,” Kanaya said, “You may not have done the best thing you could have, all things considered, but it seems like you know that, and in any case I’m sure Terezi and any number of the others have already given you plenty of talk about the whole issue of your confession’s timing and so on.” Dave nodded wordlessly. “Right, well,” Kanaya continued, “It may not have been the best decision you could have made when looking at however long an opportunity you had to tell us, but at the point in time in which you did, it was certainly the best of the options still available to you. I mean, your only other choices would have been to either go with those men or try to hide here and tell us nothing, and with no time to prepare at all there’s every chance that we all would have gotten hurt.”

“Somene did get hurt,” Dave said, cautious. “You got hurt. You being okay now doesn’t change that. I still fucked up.”

“You made a mistake, yes,” Kanaya said. “That’s pretty undeniable, all things considered, but it’s not the point I’m trying to make…Urgh, I’m babbling again, aren’t I. Okay, what I’m trying to say here is that you did the best you could under the circumstances, and more importantly, I can see that this was not an easy thing for you to do. It was very brave of you to tell us the truth at all, even if the timing wasn’t fantastic, and it’s for that that I want to offer you my thanks.”

“…You’re not mad?” Dave said.

“Not at all,” said Kanaya. “You did the right thing. Thank you.”

“…Sure,” he mumbled.

“That’s all I really wanted to say, honestly,” Kanaya said.

Dave nodded, mumbled something Kanaya didn’t catch, and hurried back to his room.

After her own round of questioning from Terezi, Kanaya, unable to sleep, ultimately ended up quietly sketching out some clothing designs for Porrim for the next several hours, perched on the couch across from where Karkat lay still in the midst of his impromptu nap until about midmorning. The rest of the house was still sleeping at that point, leaving the trolls alone to what was, from Kanaya’s perspective, a surprisingly (yet also quite touching) heartfelt reunion. Karkat had all but sprang up from the couch and thrown his arms around her, tears running damp tracks down his face, as he swore that if she ever died again he would personally piss on her grave. It was followed by a very sniffly declaration, as he pulled away and tried in vain to wipe his ganderbulbs and scent sponge, that if she ever told anyone about this, he’d set all of her “stupid trashy rainbow drinker books” ablaze. She’d responded with a threat to tell Dave all about that pale crush that Karkat totally didn’t have, and after a few more minutes of cursory bickering, Karkat had settled down enough that tears were at least no longer being spilled, and she filled him in on what had happened both outside and in the time since he’d fainted.

Dirk was the first of the humans awake, and when he came upstairs, he’d asked where Terezi had gone to; Kanaya informed him that she’d gone out to sleep off the long night in the same car she’d arrived in, and that there should be two officers outside the door if he needed something. Apparently satisfied, he’d headed back downstairs.

(Dirk’s pulse always picked up a bit when talking to her; she had no idea if that had always been the case, but she suspected her new status as a being which on Earth was considered pure fantasy probably made him a bit…nervous. Kanaya didn’t find this particularly bothersome, but was more interested in the fact that her new senses certainly made reading the more emotionally distant members of the Lalonde family easier.)

Karkat had decided after this that he wanted to take his own turn in the ablution block, and took his leave. Kanaya was alone for maybe half an hour before Rose came stumbling down the stairs.

They chatted for a bit as Rose woke herself up and made her morning meal. Rose was clearly still shaken by the events of the night before, as Karkat had been, but was doing a better job of keeping herself collected. At least, until she asked if Dave had been up and about. The way her face darkened, the bitterness in her voice as she asked, was…concerning.

“He’s not been out and about yet, not since he was questioned by Terezi, I don’t think. I spoke to him just after that, though,” Kanaya said. “I already thanked him.”

“Thanked him?!” Rose cried out. “For what, getting you hurt?”

“For being honest with us,” Kanaya said. “Rose, I sincerely suspect that no one knows better than he does that he made a mistake in waiting so long to tell us, but he still did the right thing in the end. I understand that it was very difficult for him to do so, and I would like him to continue being honest, so, yes, I thanked him.”

“Well, forgive me if I don’t find his actions particularly praise worthy,” Rose spat.

Kanaya sighed. She did a quick mental take on human relationships before continuing; Rose and Dave were…siblings, she believed the word was, which should mean that Kanaya intervening this time wouldn’t be considered ashen, right? She wasn’t auspitizing, just…keeping the peace. Besides, even if they weren’t siblings, this was hardly anything to be considered black; certainly it wasn’t healthy in either of their species.

“Rose, I understand that you’re angry,” Kanaya started.

“Oh, not you too,” Rose said. “I’m not going to just stop being angry, not when I’m completely justified about it. He put us all in danger! You got hurt, Kanaya! It’s pure luck that no one was permanently killed!”

“Yes, I agree,” Kanaya said. Rose blinked, then narrowed her eyes in confusion, but waited for Kanaya to explain. “You’ve every right to be angry. But I think you ought to consider the consequences of not at least trying to talk things out. I mean, it might be hard, he barely said a word to me when I tried talking to him earlier, which is very unusual for him, from what I’ve seen.”

“Kanaya, you’re getting sidetracked again.”

“Shoot! Right, sorry. What I’m trying to say is,” Kanaya said, “that…you’ve had to work very hard to earn his trust, and you haven’t earned all of it yet — I don’t think any of us has, really, not even Karkat — but. If you keep lashing out at him like you did just now, you’re going to destroy what little of his trust you have earned. You’ll be right back to square one!”

Rose crossed her arms. “So what, I should just pretend he did nothing wrong, act like he’s totally innocent?”

“No, Rose, I’m…all I’m saying is that you should try talking to him. Not like just now, but…with an open mind and a lot of honesty, and…I think it would benefit both of you to talk things out, and for you to maybe consider forgiving him once you’ve done so. You might find that perhaps your anger is…misdirected, and perhaps there is a bit more of it than there should be.”

“Right,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“Please? Just give it a try?”

Rose rolled her eyes, but said, “Oh, alright. If only because you’re the one who got hurt. You’ve more right to be angry than anyone, and if you’re so sure he’s deserving of a second chance, then…I suppose it’s worth a shot.”

“Thank you,” Kanaya said.

Rose planned, originally, on fulfilling her promise to Kanaya to allow Dave to explain himself properly when her brother decided to show his face about the house, but when he had still not shown himself well after noon, it became clear that she was going to have to be the bigger person and initiate this conversation. She’d given him every chance to try and make the first move by that point, to try and show some sign of recognition that he knew he was in the wrong as Kanaya claimed he did, but to know avail. Rose wished she could say she was surprised, but really, this behavior was about par for the course.

At every turn, he’d responded to the various bridges offered by his family by acting as though they were going to set fire to them. He’d been antisocial, reclusive, and distant; the few times he did deign to be a part of the group dissolved at the barest slight; and the one time that they’d managed to have an actual good night, he’d turned it into an absolute disaster. “You’ll lose his trust,” Kanaya had said, but Rose would like to know what exactly Dave had done to earn hers.

And always he’d responded the same way, with no real sign of any emotion reflected in those apathetic shades, his face ever the same blank mask.

So he was when she knocked on his bedroom door, after the usual dragging sound preceding him creaking open the entryway. His hair was messy, and he still wore the same pajamas from the night before, having apparently not bothered to change out of them or clean himself up in any way.

Not that he needed to, since he’d been safely inside the entire time, but whatever.

He held the door open and moved aside, letting her step in. She closed the door behind herself. He stood, motionless, close to a corner by the door, and said not a word.

“Look,” she said, doing what was, in her opinion, an excellent job of keeping calm in the face of ceaseless apathy, “I don’t particularly want to be here any more than you want me here, but Kanaya insists that I need to talk to you about what happened. So let’s talk.”

“‘Kay,” Dave said.

“Let’s talk about how I am apparently the one overreacting when you decided to put us all in danger by putting off telling us about this, there’s a good place to start.”

“Sorry.”

“I don’t want ‘sorry,’ Dave,” she said, trying very hard not to shout. “I want answers! What were you thinking?”

“Sorry.”

“Are you really so miserable here that you wanted to go back? Did you take some sort of sick pleasure in springing anarchy on us on what was previously the first really enjoyable night we’ve had since you got back?!”

“Sorry.”

“Would you stop apologizing!” she snapped.

Dave leaned back slightly with a near unnoticeable jolt. His only other reaction was to mumble several senseless fragments of words, ending with what sounded like another weak, emotionless, “Sorry.”

And still, his face was blank, his mouth still that same thin line, the rest of his face still hidden behind those black, unfeeling, damnable sunglasses. Still he stood, unmoving and unresponsive. Rose felt her blood boil, felt two months’ worth of building frustration at this unending, passive-aggressive war of tedium and spite he insisted on waging, finally erupt in an explosion which devastated the last remaining vestiges of her patience.

With a shouted, “Will you give me a straight fucking answer, for once!” she snatched the blasted sunglasses off of his face —

and saw fear.

He still barely moved, his mouth only slightly open and the rest of him flinching slightly away, one arm coming up to guard his face, only to stop halfway, but his eyes put everything else about him into a sudden perspective. To call him a deer in the headlights would be a great understatement; his look was that of a small child facing death itself, his pupils dilated heavily and the whites of his eyes even more huge. He wasn’t cowering, but he was stiff, Rose realized very suddenly; not unreactive out of apathy, but frozen in sheer terror. Too frightened to run, too frightened to fight back.

“‘m sorry,” Dave mumbled again. Somehow, given the depth of fright in his eyes, the words sounded less infuriating now and more like a desperate begging for mercy, choked out as though past a swollen tongue.

The heat that had built in her seemed to fizzle out in the space of a second.

“What’s —” ‘the matter,’ she’d been planning on asking, but halted after a moment — she’d moved her hand up, intending to reach out to him, touch his shoulder perhaps, but the slightest movement had drawn his terrified eyes to watch her hand, transfixed, in the same moment as his entire body jolted slightly, too stiff to properly flinch.

Testing, she moved her hand to the side, watched how his eyes stayed locked on her every movement. He was bracing himself, it seemed, for some blow which Rose certainly didn’t plan on delivering, yet here he was utterly convinced that it was coming. Yet, he couldn’t run, made no move beyond those slight jerks and a nearly invisible full body tremble, and he certainly made no attempt to fight back.

What did it take, she wondered, to frighten someone this much?

“What the hell did he do to you?” she said aloud, barely a breath of a whisper.

Dave’s eyes narrowed slightly, confusion faintly tinging the terror on his face. “He…who…wha?” he stammered. “I…I don’t…”

Rose took a step back, the sunglasses clutched gently in her hands, her own eyes now trained on the floor. This…this was going to need more thought, but clearly she’d made a lot of assumptions which had proved incorrect. He’d…he’d seemed to always be well enough, she’d assumed that since he showed few of the classic signs of fear that it couldn’t be what led to his behavior, but…

God, he must’ve thought they were going to do something awful to him this whole time.

“Kanaya was right,” she said aloud. “I…misunderstood the situation. I didn’t realize…I hadn’t known I was scaring you so much, Dave, and for that I apologize.”

She never wanted to be the reason he looked this scared again, if she could help it.

“I still stand by that I had every right to be as upset as I was,” she continued. “You put us in a lot of danger, and I’d still like to know why you held off for so long. That being said, you…did eventually try to do the right thing, and…the last thing I want is to scare you into thinking it would be unsafe to do so again.”

“I don’t…” Dave murmured.

“Don’t what?” Rose said, and she must have said it a bit too quickly, because he flinched again. She made an effort to soften her gaze. His eyes were darting, now, almost frantic, his mouth trying to form words before his mind could piece them together.

“I don’t…know,” he said. “I don’t…I.”

“Do you want to be here?”

He nodded, guilt joining the confusion and fear on his features.

“…But you felt you can’t stay,” she guessed. “Is that it? Were you afraid he’d do something awful if you didn’t play along?”

Another nod. His eyes didn’t meet hers again.

“So why tell us, then?”

“…Cuz I was scared again,” he said, a hint of almost Dirk-like self loathing creeping into his voice. “Realized all at once that I’m not ready to go back and panicked.”

“Not ready?” Dave’s face turned further away. His trembling was growing worse. “So you’re still planning on going back, then?”

Dave sighed, and looked back at her, the fear in his eyes now tempered with a very genuine sorrow. “Doesn’t matter what I want, Rose,” he said. “He’s gonna come back for me again.”

What the hell did he do to you, she thought again, the fire once extinguished beginning to burn again. She said nothing, only looked at the black plastic in her hands.

This was…a lot to process. She’d need to think about this more, to be sure. Maybe ask Roxy again for advice, now that she’d been given a new point of view on things.

She held the shades back out to her brother, who hesitated a long moment before taking them back in a shaking hand.

“I’m sorry again for overreacting,” Rose said. “You clearly knew you’d made a mistake, and I ought not have been so excessively cruel to you, no matter how badly I was hurting at the time. I hope you can forgive me. I can, at the very least, say that I’ve forgiven you. It was just a mistake, after all.”

Dave stared at her, blinking, as she turned for the door. He didn’t react until she was already halfway down the hall heading back to her own room.

“Wait,” he called after her, from the now open door. “Wait, is — that’s it?” His eyes were now more confused than anything else, perplexity almost comically stamped across his face.

“That’s it,” Rose said, and walked away.

#dave strider #rose lalonde #kanaya maryam #terezi pyrope #longpost//#fanfic #fanfiction #calmvsstormfic #calmvsstormchapter #katt does a writing #that last scene is one of the scenes that im writing this fic for man #keep in mind dave is not used to being forgiven for mistakes and he NEVER got an 'im sorry' from derek #rose just singlehandedly turned his understanding of the world on its head hes so confused

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