#same two men showed up for bingo too; we had a blast

[the-shy-artisan]

so i got pranked at work today... by two residents.

my task for this shift was to visit each room and basically bring the activities to the residents. and on my journey, i saw one resident sitting in the doorway of a room. he called me over, pointed in, and said "that guy is sick."

i looked in and saw another resident laying in a weird position on his bed, eyes half open, mouth hanging open, etc. so naturally, i panic and try to get the attention of a cna or nurse... until the man in the bed sat straight up and said "got you."

i swear my hair is gonna turn white from this job lmao

[plaidconvers]

Sorrows on the Field- N.Romanoff

-Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: The universe despises happy endings.

Rating: NSFW (no sexual content)

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: death, blood, descriptions of injuries, fighting, killing, sad!nat, zero fluff (meh a little) all angst. PLEASE tell me if I left something out I will fix it!

A/N: I'm so so sorry for the pain this causes. I could barely edit this so any mistakes are purely mine. Let me know and I'll fix them. I'd say enjoy but yk, sad.

Bullets whizzed past you as you made a run for the bunker doors.

“No one said it would be raining bullets.” Nat laughed at your grumbling.

“And no one said you would be grumbling like an old lady.” Nat laughed at your granny-like attitude.

“Just get in, get it, and get out. Go.” Tony’s voice rang over the comms as a blast shot somewhere close by.

You willed your legs to go faster as you approached the open door. You navigated the many turns till you reached the desired room.

“Bingo,” you muttered as you grabbed the flash drive from your pocket. Pulling up the correct starting point, you plugged in the flash drive and waited anxiously for it to download. The gunfire was getting louder and more frequent and the struggling grunts coming from the comms were not easing your anxiety.

You heard footsteps approaching and raised your katana in preparation. A tall, muscular man rushed into the room coming directly at you. Side-stepping him, you readied your katana for your first blow when someone swept your feet out from under you. You roll to avoid the swift kick that grazed your side, a grunt leaving your lips.

“Y/N you okay?” Nat’s voice drifts into your ear as you lifted yourself back onto your feet.

“Ya, just a slight setback.” You say breathlessly. Two against one. This should end well. You raise your katana ready to strike when out of the corner of your eye you see a third figure appear in the doorway. Before you could react a shot rang out. Pain shot through your right shoulder as you felt warm blood seep from the wound. A cry left your mouth at the shock of the pain. You charge the third figure, driving your blade through their chest. A surprised look forever etched onto their face.

“Who the fuck is next.” Pain is slowly taking over your body as you begin to fight the two men. You get a few good slashes and hits in before your weapon gets kicked out from your hand. Pain shoots through your side as cool metal cuts down your side.

“Son of a bitch!” you scream. Anger takes over your body as you find your katana in blinding rage and pain. You tap into something next to animalistic as you attack the two men in the room.

“Y/N?” Tony’s voice is laced with worry as he sees your stats drop.

No reply.

You’re splayed out on the floor next to the three men you just killed. Their blood mixing with a puddle of your own. You slowly get up and get the completed flash drive.

The worry in Tony’s voice spikes deep worry in Natasha. Worse case scenarios dancing in her mind.

“On my way to you, have Bruce ready please.” Your muscles ached as you willed yourself to jog out the way you came in. You were not going to die. Natasha would never forgive you if you left her.

“I swear to God Y/N if you get yourself killed out here I’M gonna hurt you!” Her tone may be joking, but there was pain and worry behind Nat’s words. She couldn’t- wouldn’t- lose you. 3 blissful years and she’d be damned if you left without her putting a ring on it first.

You arrived at the quinjet. You got halfway up before collapsing. Bruce rushed over and picked you up, setting you on the gurney.

“Jesus Y/N, what the hell happened?!” Bruce showed faux anger, but he was hiding the fear as he took in just how deep and long your gash was.

“Where else?” Worry. Bruce was brimming with worry but knew he was on comms. For the sake of Nat, he would put off the inevitable breakdown.

“What?”

“It’s never just one injury with you Y/N, where’s the other half of the pair.” Bruce was trying so hard to hold back the tears. He saw how exhausted and dull you looked. No units of blood on the jet and you were bleeding steadily and abundantly.

“My shoulder. Gunshot went through.” Little did you know it was also dislocated.

“Gunshot? Y/N what the hell happened back there?” Nat was nowhere near the quinjet, nor was she in the position to rush over to you. It killed her to not be next to you while you hurt. Your pained whines carried over the comms shoving daggers into the hearts of the other listening Avengers.

“Nat I promise I’m fine. Just hurts like hell.” You lied to Nat on many occasions to soften the worry running into her head. This though had to be the biggest one you’ve told. You were exhausted, sweaty, and sore. Not to mention the feeling of blood gushing down your side was making your stomach swim. You knew how bad off you were but you’d hold on for the sake of Nat.

Your beautiful Nat.

“Bruce, help, please.” Your eyes were desperate and pleading. You had too much you needed to do. Two days from now you were planning on proposing to Natasha. Bucky and Steve helped you pick out the most beautiful red ruby engagement ring. It sat in the chest pocket of your tactical gear.

You were going to marry Nat and you’d be damned if this killed you.

Bruce began to take off the top of your suit but your hands stopped him. He shot you a quizzical look. You brought up your hand to unzip one of the pockets and pulled out the box. A knowing look shot across Bruce’s face. Gripping the box to your side you nodded at Bruce to continue.

He wouldn’t let you die.

“Sweets, talk to me, what’s going on?” The silence was deafening as Nat waited for a reply. Noticing how drained you were, Bruce spoke up.

“You guys might want to head over to the jet. Y/N’s already got what we came for and she’s hurt badly.” A loose tear ran down his cheek, knowing the outcome he was actively prolonging.

“On my way.” That was all Nat said as she was sprinting in the direction of the jet.

Nat was the second to get to you, Bucky being the first. He’d never admit it, but you were his soft spot. Tears stained his face as he waited at Bruce’s side to help.

“Y/N? Baby?” Air pushed out of Nat’s lungs as she took you in. A deep gash ran down from the side of your ribs to your hip. Blood ran down your limp arm from your bullet wound in your shoulder. A puddle of blood was already gathering at Bruce’s feet as he and Bucky stuffed gauze and towels into your wounds to halt your bleeding.

“Natasha.” The tears finally fell on your face as she rushed to your side. Fear was evident on your features as you choked back sobs and cries of pain.

You had to be strong for her.

“I’m here Y/N I’m not going anywhere.” Nat was sobbing. The fear of losing you was all too real as she took in the amount of blood on you and the floor.

“Bruce?” A choked sob left your mouth as an unsaid question passed through the two of you. Realization hit Natasha like a bus. This was it. This was happening and she couldn’t stop it.

You couldn’t stop it.

“No. No no no no no no NO!” Nat’s screams carried over the comms as the others made their way to the jet. Wanda and Steve showed up next and were hit with the smell of iron. Tears brimmed in Wanda’s eyes as she felt your grief take over your body.

She wouldn’t tell anyone, but she felt everything that mission. All your love and all your sorrow.

“Nat, look at me please.” Your hand reached out and cupped Nat’s cheek as the box sat tightly in your other hand. You looked up at her with nothing but pure love and adoration sparkling in your irises.

“I have to tell you something now, I won’t have the opportunity ever again and I need the peace of mind.” Nat’s heart sank and sung at the same time as the words left your chapped lips.

God she loved you.

“Don’t talk like that. You’re fine. You’re gonna be fine. Bruce can fix you and We’ll be going on that fancy picnic you planned in a couple of days.” Tears silently fell down Nat’s cheeks as the gravity of the situation nestled her heart deeper into the pits of her stomach.

Never would she sit on the sandy beach and watch you sip wine straight from the bottle.

“Natasha,” Everyone that wasn’t in the jet could hear your soft voice grace their ears, but nothing was stopping you from confessing your want, no, your need to spend forever with Nat. Even if forever was 20 more minutes. “I have loved you the day I met you. I knew then and I know now that I will forever love you. I was going to wait till the picnic I planned to ask you, but timing is horrible and the universe despises happy endings.” Tears flowed freely now, no longer holding back. “So I ask you now with all the love in my body, will you marry me?”

You held out the velvety emerald green box out for her to open. Her shaky hand rose as she softly opened the lid. A watery gasp left her lips as she saw the perfectly cut ruby perched upon a gold band. She remembered how you asked her opinion on a pair of rings a few months back, claiming it to be a gift from Tony to Pepper. She gushed over the ruby one saying the cut needed to be changed but otherwise it was perfect.

A sad smile fell upon Natasha’s face at the memory of how you clung to her every word and critique on the ring.

“Yes.” It was barely a whisper, but it was an answer nonetheless. A smile broke out upon your face but was interrupted by a painful cough. Worry flashed across Nat’s face, but a shake of your head brought it barley back at bay. You slipped the ring out of its box and onto Nat’s finger.

A perfect fit for your perfect lady.

Nat leaned down and pressed her soft lips to your chapped ones. It held the words of a thousand lives. Every unspoken thing between the two of you was shared in that one kiss.

Your body finally allowed itself to relax. Exhaustion took hold of your body and Wanda let out a cry. She felt how tired you were, how done your body was. Steve held her while she sobbed at the inevitable loss of her friend.

Natasha’s eyes met yours and the love that once danced in your irises was now replaced with sadness and guilt.

“I’m sorry” You choked out. New waves of sobs and tears racked your pained body sending you into a coughing fit. Bruce helped you sit up but immediately laid you back down as you screamed out in pain as it shot its way through your side.

Panting now, you fought for your eyelids to stay open and trained on Nat’s. You were terrified. Death never scared you, but leaving Natasha behind was so much worse. Your body gave in for a split second to rest your eyes but immediately shot open as you felt a heavy hand on your leg. It was Tony announcing silently that he and the rest of the team were there with you. A sigh of relief left your lips as your eyes darted in-between faces.

Everyone was here.

Your body gave into its exhaustion. The whole team was holding in tears as Nat stepped aside for the rest of the team to say their goodbyes.

They knew this was it and sadly, so did you.

It was finally back to Nat as she took one of the jet seats next to your side and laid her head on your stomach. A wince crossed your soft features but quickly disappeared.

“I love you.”

It was only for Nat to hear. Tears welled up in her eyes as she lifted her head to look at Wanda who only gave her one sad nod of her head before she ducked into Vision’s embrace sobbing.

“I love you forevermore.”

As if that was the okay your body and universe were looking for, your breathing stilled and you relaxed. Nat buried her face into your stomach as sobs racked her broken-hearted body. There were no dry eyes on the flight back to the compound.

No matter how many years passed, Nat never slipped that ring off. Not once.

Years later, when she’s old and wrinkly and had lived a full life, she would be buried with it in hopes of it getting replaced with a wedding band when she met with you once more. Because Natasha meant it when she said she loved you forevermore.

The universe may despise happy endings, but the afterlife welcomes them with joyful arms.

[mst3kproject]

Light Blast

What’s this?  A death ray movie in which we actually see stuff get death rayed?  Aw, man, that might disqualify it for MST3K right there!  Fortunately for us, however, Light Blast was directed by Enzo Castellari, who brought us Escape 2000, and it stars Erik Estrada. Estrada was never on MST3K but he was on pretty much all the 70’s cop shows they kept referencing, including Mannix and Police Woman, and Mike and the bots would never have let him forget it.

So what do we want out of a death ray movie?  I dunno, some faces melting like the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark would be cool, and Light Blast apparently read my mind on that count because we get the first melting face action before the ten minute mark! A couple of young people go to have sex in a boxcar (this scene includes a real classy upskirt shot, just three minutes in) while the bad guy tests his death ray, and in the fine tradition of kids just trying to bone at the beginning of movies, they get zapped.  Meanwhile, somewhere else, Erik Estrada in a speedo takes down a couple of bank robbers by hiding a gun inside a roast turkey.

This is gonna be a weird movie, isn’t it?

Sadly, Light Blast never again rises to that height of absurdity.  Evil Professor Yuri Svoboda has a death ray, and has decided to hold the city of San Francisco hostage for the princely sum of:

Was that even a lot of money in 1985?  According to dollartimes the conversion rate is about 2.5, so that would be $12.5 million today... still seems a little low for a major city.  Anyway.

To show he means business, Svoboda death rays the announcer’s box at a demolition derby.  Thence ensues a series of extremely uninspired car chases and a scene in which Estrada is repeatedly kicked in the avocados by a woman dressed as a nurse (I liked that bit).  Eventually he puts the pieces of the puzzle together, and never even bothers to tell us what the finished picture looks like before running off to what looks like it’ll be the final Power Plant Confrontation.  No such luck.  Svoboda escapes again, and Estrada has to chase him down to the final final confrontation.

There are two things here Castellari seems to really like. One is digital clocks, which are frequently the focus of the death ray for some reason.  The other is men staggering around on fire, filmed in the type of loving slow motion that turns this agonizing death into a moment of over-dramatic hilarity.  Remember in the Making Of Documentary for Return of the King, when Peter Jackson acknowledges that Denethor falling off the top of Minas Tirith while on fire is ridiculous?  Enzo Castellari is definitely not that self-aware.

He is also fond of car chases.  There are three or four of them in Light Blast and they’re competent, I guess.  They’re definitely better than the budget version you sometimes see in really cheap movies, in which the camera turns to watch one vehicle pass by, then repeats the shot with another.  There was probably a storyboard and so forth.  But they’re still pretty monotonous and mostly just look like people driving around with no sense of a destination or a narrative.  Instead, the movie tries to add interest by giving them ‘gimmicks’.

In one of the chases, Estrada doesn’t want the villain to know he’s being followed, so rather than using his own vehicle, he just hops into random people’s cars and makes them do the following.  In one he shows his badge and tells the driver he’s a cop. In another he tells the woman driving that he’s playing a practical joke on a friend from college.  Astonishingly, he never gets slapped or shot.

In another, he steals a race car in order to chase down Svoboda, who is fleeing to a boat from which he plans to death ray the entire city or something.  This chase includes two separate shots in which Estrada jumps the race car over some obstacle in his way, again filmed in slow motion.  In neither was there any sort of ramp to get the car off the ground. It’s like that scene in Speed where the fucking bus somehow jumps over a gap in the highway except they did it twice and slowly to give the audience time to think about how stupid it is. Then Estrada jumps the car again onto Svoboda’s boat, which has already left the dock, and somehow manages to stop on a dime rather than falling into the water.

I recognize that movies are not bound by the laws of physics, but those that get away with breaking them do so by walking a fine line. Things have to look possible. People running away from explosions looks like it should work, and very few of us have ever been in a position to find out what it’s actually like first-hand (partly because those of us who have probably didn’t live to tell about it).  The car jumps?  Nah.

Wikipedia includes a couple of reviews of this film that have been translated, not very well, from Italian.  They’re kind of hard to understand but they do seem to fixate on the preponderance of car chases.  They also reference another staple of 80’s action movies, which is excessive police brutality.  Estrada shoots a whole bunch of people, breaks into a power plant and a funeral home, steals cars, causes a dozen accidents and untold property damage, and bullies his girlfriend into risking her job in order to get him the information he needs.  Our hero, ladies and gentlemen.

Other clichés drift by.  The villain gives a pretty classic monologue all about how he Showed Those Fools At The Academy and how his death ray will make him supreme ruler of the world and he’ll bring about a new age of peace.  There’s a bit where Estrada and his partner, the Tall Guy (these characters do have names, I just don’t care) sit down at the kitchen table and put together what they’ve learned… but instead of some exposition to tell us, the audience, what that is, we get a Ryan And Shane Look For Forrest Fenn’s Treasure montage but without the irony.  We can just barely hear fragments of voices through this, as the characters talk about it… enough to tease us with what they know and we don’t.

I dunno, it’s possible the audience is supposed to have already figured this stuff out and I just wasn’t paying attention.  I was pretty bored during most of this movie.

During the montage, the bad guys sneak up outside Estrada’s house (which is on a boat?  I think?) and open fire, basically shooting everybody but Estrada himself, who escapes completely unharmed.  His personality-deficient girlfriend isn’t so lucky… but she was only in this movie so it would have a part for Estrada’s real-life girlfriend Peggy Rowe. This bit is right up there with The Phantom Creeps as a perfect example of why Women In Fridges is screenwriting for hacks.  Estrada is already determined to get these guys.  He already cares about the people they’ve killed in the past and the ones they plan to kill in the future!  He is already frustrated by his failures to catch them!  ‘Making it personal’ is completely unnecessary!  Did the writers really think her death would add anything, or were they just trying to fill up their Action Movie Cliché Bingo card?

In the villain’s evil monologue, Svoboda reveals that apparently Estrada killed his wife?  I guess she was the mortician?  This doesn’t help, because I don’t think Svoboda actually knows that Estrada’s girlfriend is dead and even if he does, she wasn’t his target. His henchmen were after Estrada and Tall Guy.

Then there’s the ending, which is in no way a ‘climax’ and barely even counts as an ‘end’.  Remember I said Estrada jumps his racecar onto Svoboda’s boat?  This knocks the death ray over and it melts Svoboda himself.  Estrada watches this, then basically just shrugs and walks the fuck away.  So… that was it?  No confrontation?  No fight? Just a failure to properly secure the superweapon?

Isn’t the rest of the boat gonna melt now, too?  In previous uses the death ray seemed to melt things over a fairly wide area.  Isn’t anyone worried about that?  No, we’re just rolling the credits?  Okay, fine. At least the movie’s over.

Is there anything nice I can say about Light Blast? Well… I guess it passes the Bechdel Test.  There’s a bit, completely irrelevant to the plot, where two women who work at the police station discuss perfume.  It’s as if one of the writers had read about the Bechdel Test and shoved that in there just to pass it, without bothering to think about what the point of the ‘test’ is.

For all I’ve bitched about it, Light Blast isn’t a full on disaster.  It’s merely a mediocre 80’s action movie.  What makes it so damn disappointing is the wackiness of that early scene with Estrada in his underwear and the gun in the turkey.  That bit has the same effect as naming your movie Hercules Against the Moon Men – it gives the audience the impression that you have a sense of humour, and then the rest of the film can be nothing but the slow downward spiral of realizing that you were, in fact, serious.  Even then, it still could have been fun if the writers and director had kept up that kind of cheese throughout but no… Light Blast couldn’t even be bad enough to be good.

If any of you MSTies reading this are aspiring film-makers, let this be the lesson for you: the introduction of your main character sets the tone.  Do that wrong, or in a way that doesn’t match the rest of your movie, and you’re sunk. And if you only have one interesting or funny idea, for love of Apearlo put that at the end of the movie, not the beginning!

[ruckusheaven]

A Coon In A Colorful Heaven: Chapter 3- “So Where Should We Begin?”

Coon-  A black person who is ignorant to white discrimination and unknowingly suffers with self hatred.

This chapter continues to follow the eternal story of a man named Damien. When we last saw Damien he had finally arrived into Heaven after mysteriously being let through by his personal Angel “Angie”. But not long after arriving to Heaven, Damien soon discovered that the pain and damage that he caused as a Mortal still continues to follow him as a Spirit. After having a small altercation with his Aunt Pam, Damien began to wonder if being in Heaven would truly be paradise for him; But within that same instance he realized that he was starting to deteriorate just like his “judgment room” began to when he was being Judged. Now his only chance of staying in Heaven will comes from the assistance of his Grandson Chris...

Damien: *staring in shock* My.. Grandson?... Veronica had a child

Chris: Ya’know even though i already knew you didn’t know this.. Hearing you so surprised really shows how disconnected you two were..

Chris: Well are you gonna let me help you up or would you rather lay here until you disappear?

Damien: *grabbing Chris's hand* sorry im just a little shocked is all... I never knew..

Chris: *pulling Damien up* Well how could you have known? Leaving your wife and child behind will do that

Damien:  *staring down at the ground in shame*...

Chris: Come on, i’ll take you some place we can talk quietly

*Damien and Chris begin to walk down their street*

Damien: *looking around* Our zone really is beautiful.. it feels like i’m back in Philly but nothing looks like Philly

Chris: Yea i know what you mean. Our zone was created a few hundred years ago by one of our elders.

Chris: Since then hundreds of our family bloodline began to add and change it more and more. From adding new structures, to changing how the air feels

Chris: But what amazes me most is that no matter what changes, everything still feels perfect.

Damien: *sees little kids flying thought the sky* yea.. i think i get what you mean

Damien’s Family Zone was like no other.Their Zone had a very odd mix of  typical city blocks mixed with rural areas.The buildings themselves had their own unique feel and shape. Some stretched almost endlessly into the sky while most stood only few feet high. Some were made out of brick and wood, while others were floating in the sky made up of soft fabrics. People flying and walking, kids playing and running, Men and Women dancing and talking with soulful music playing in the background. The Zone itself just felt like a relaxing Fall afternoon mixed with a chill breeze carrying a very slight scent of Vanilla and Honey.

Damien: This place.. this realm.. it’s like i have so many questions about it but it truly feels like there’s no point in asking anything about it.. like there’s no reason at all..

Chris: Oh trust me you’ll definitely have an almost endless amount of questions. But i honestly think that the most beautiful part about Heaven is that i can take my time to understand every detail if i wanted to, and still discover something new or create something new. And whatever matters or doesn’t is truly up to me

Chris: I can ask questions or i can just enjoy not knowing which is something that isn’t punishing here.

*Chris and Damien walk into a park, where they both sit on a old Wood Park bench*

Chris: So before we began, do you have any questions for me?

Damien: Honestly i don’t know where to begin..

Damien:  Like i have so many questions like; How were you in Heaven before me? Where’s Veronica and Lexis, and what’s happening to me?

Chris: Ha, you’re really do have some heavy questions.. But for no lets stick to the one’s that will help you the most before you disappear 

Chris: First off what you’re going though is basically called a Soul Confliction

Damien: Soul Confliction..

Chris: Yea basically your soul can’t decide on whether it should be here or not.

Chris: Judgement isn’t done God or Peter it’s done by you yourself. You truly know if what you’ve done in your life is wrong or not, which is why the judgment room prevents you from being able to lie

Chris: Deep in our hearts we know our truths and what we did. The people that can truly accept their failings and are able to learn and change from them can make it into Heaven. But those that refuse to believe what they did was wrong and basically rebuke what’s going on, goes to Hell.

Damien: So basically i’m in the middle..

Chris: Bingo, It’s not uncommon tho. I say for every 1 million souls a few thousand are Conflicted. What’s alarming to many is that the number of conflicted are being to rise more and more.

Chris: But that’s a whole nother fiasco

Damien: Well what is it that i need to do to get rid of my conflictions..

Chris: That leads into what happen to mom which leads into what happened to me..

Chris: See.. whether you know it or not you hurt mom to a point of almost no return.

Damien: Bullshit! i never once hurt Veronica. I gave her the world when i was around. From toys to great schooling, there was nothing that she ever needed that i couldn’t provide.

Chris: And yet somehow she had a terrible life where she hated herself, her mother and never felt that she could be the perfect girl that you wanted her to be, which cemented multiple personality and mental disorders for her.

Damien: 

Chris: Yea, excellent parenting 

Damien: Look, how was i suppose to know of anything like that would happen to her. Any problems that happened between me and Lexis stayed between us.

Damien: I never took out my anger or frustration on Veronica

Chris: Do you honestly think that because you didn’t yell or hit her, that she wasn’t severely affected by your actions.

Chris: It’s not about what you did say to her, it’s what you didn’t. It’s not about the amount of money you spent on her, it’s about what you bought. And it’s not about the problems you had with grandma, it’s about how you handled them.

Chris: Every careless and thoughtless action you made she saw and she made her own reasoning's for them. 

Damien: Like what!? what did or didn’t I do that affected her so much?

Chris: Your input on her self worth

Damien: Now this is definite bullshit. I always called her beautiful and brought her tons of dresses that she wanted!

Chris: You do know there is a difference between calling someone beautiful and actually treating and showing them that they are.

Damien: What are you talking about?

Chris: Let’s start off small. What kind of toys do you remember buying her and what affect do you think they had?

Damien: I don’t know.. shit like barbies and dolls similar to them.

Chris: Right, you gave a dark skin girl a bunch of toys and dolls that looked nothing like her nor were there any positive representation of women like her besides her mother.

Chris: But thanks to you her she never looked at her mother in a positive light nor did she want to be like her

Damien: Ugh, please don’t turn this into a white vs black bs. I heard enough of that bs before i died and i rather not hear more while i’m dead.

Chris: This isn’t about white vs black you idiot, this about the start of a girl looking in the mirror and hating what she sees

Chris: You take a black girl and put her with a family where the father hates her mother and doesn’t talk or spend loving time with the daughter; and surround her around a bunch of examples of what being beautiful and perfect is but none of them look like her. What do you think will happen?

Damien: But what you’re talking about are dolls. They’re just toys!

Chris: Toys that she spent more time with than her own father

Damien: ...

Chris: Yes the toys played a small role in the grand scheme of things. But most big problems are complied of small things like it. But as you’ll see, Mom had bigger problems than you know

Damien: What do you mean i’ll see..

*Chris goes to put his hands on Damien’s head, But is interrupted by Angie*

Angie: Sorry to intervene but i can’t let you take him there.

Angie: I get what you’re trying to do but you’ll only cause more damage than good!..

Chris: *staring at Angie shocked and confused* what do you mean i’ll do more damage than good and why do you look like-

*A Bright Light crashes down on Angie and Damien taking them away*

Chris: What the hell!

Chris: Will seeing what happened to Veronica really break him as he is?

*A Bright Light crashes down leaving behind Angie and Damien in a new location in front of a huge club with blasting music*

Damien: What the hell Angie!? why did you take me away from Chris?

Angie: Listen that kid was going to take you someplace that i don’t think you’re ready to see yet. And since you only have one shot at this i rather take things a little slow to make sure you won’t get broken.

Damien: What do you mean broken? and where are we?

Angie: How about you find out *pushes Damien through the doors*

*Damien stumbles into the building, tripping over a bottle and falling forward*

Damien: *falls on his chest* oof! *slowing picking himself up* Someone needs to explain why pain is still relevant here..

???: Nephew you got alot more stuff to learn before we get to that

Damien: Huh? *looking up*

Damien: UNCLE CRAIG!

Uncle Craig: So we meet again nephew, perfect timing too *grabs Damien by the back of his collar lifting him up in the air*

*Uncle Craig carries Damien into the main floor filled with people dancing and drinking, while “Frankie Beverly- Before i let go” plays loudly*

Uncle Craig: AYE LISA!! I DONE FOUND YA COON AS GRANDSON AH-HAHAHEY!

Lisa: *Stands up waving her arms* Whaaaat! Bring My GrandBaby over here!!

Damien: Grandma Lisa!? Great Great Grandma Lisa!? Why does she look so young.. and fine!?

Uncle Craig: Don’t be weird nephew that’s ya grandma. You can take that freaky talk to those weird white country zones i hear about

THE END OF CHAPTER 3

[notgonnarememberthis]

A Better Tomorrow- Chapter 2

Hello! I'm so sorry that this update has taken so long. I absolutely intended to update it before I went back to school but things got a little bit hectic with preparing to go back and stuff. Finally after enough coaxing I am back and angsty-er than ever. Any who I hope you enjoy 

Blonde pigtails bounce with every step she makes. She runs across the store excitedly at the sight of her friend. The boy is shorter than her, but to be fair Bobbi towers over most kids her age.

“Lance!” The excitement in her voice is so uncharacteristic of her moody behavior as of late Melinda can’t help but smile.

“Bob!” ...Nobody calls Bobbi ‘Bob’ except for her. Melinda raises an eyebrow amused, watching the two from afar. The two settled into quiet chatter and infectious laughter, Melinda couldn’t help a small, self indulgent chuckle now and again.

Quickly, however, the temperature seemed to spike up, the room became crowded with ash and smoke, fires licked at the walls and the two children disappeared.

Her lungs heave in an attempt to get air. She calls out for Bobbi but no sound came from her throat. She let out a silent scream falling to her knees when she hears a tiny whimper from behind her.

“Mom?” Melinda spins around spotting the same blonde pigtails, now limp against her face. Her hand is pressed to a gushing wound in her abdomen. “Mommy?” Her voice breaks in fear and the image flashes. “Take my hand.” The sudden ticking is deafening amongst the crackle of the flames. The girl flashes in and out of focus, as if static on a television. “It hurts Mommy.” The garbled voice cries out. “Take my hand. I can take away your pain.” Melinda stumbles backwards as blonde flashes to brunette, the bloody wound flashes to a bomb. “Please… I’m scared.” Melinda lets out a cry as she feels her fingers collide with the cool metal.

“I’m sorry.” She sobs as she points her gun.

Green eyes go wide as the shots echo through the room.

The pounding of the door is what surfaces her to reality, leaving her gasping for breath. There’s no smoke, no fire. No Bobbi… She’s dead and has been for twenty years now. Melinda throws herself off of the bed moving groggily to the door. She yanks open the door finding Phil standing there with a smug look on his face.

“Your hurt.”

“And you had another nightmare.” Melinda answers him with a simple glare. “Sorry, thought we were stating the obvious.” She steps aside letting Phil in. “Another one about-”

“Still don’t want to talk about it.”

“It’s been 20 years Lin.”

“And I’ll die before I do. What did you get?”

“Bottle of haig and a couple rounds of ammo.” Phil states proudly. “A couple of guys tried to mug me, luckily I had this.” He holds up her pocket knife proudly. “Training kicked in and I looted it off of them.” He smiles. Damn why was his smile so infectious?

“Looks like they got you a couple of times too.” She part growls inspecting the wound on his cheek. It wasn’t bad, likely just a lucky swipe of a knife. She moved to the island in the kitchen pulling a bottle of tequila out of the bottom cabinet.

“Why not use the Haig?”

“And waste perfectly good whiskey?” Melinda shakes her head grabbing a rag and two glasses. She pours the tequila on the rag carefully cleaning the wound while Phil pours them both a glass of whiskey.

“I’ll give you one guess as to who jumped me.” He states hitting his glass against hers. She savors the taste for a second before answering, the distaste of his name almost chasing away the whiskey on her tongue.

“Garrett?”

“Bingo.”

“How does this asshole still have men?”

“Hell if I know.” Phil says placing a hand on hers to pull it away gently. “But I know where he’s hiding.”

“You’re kidding.” She freezes at the thought of beating the asshole to a pulp. He had been their partner in the CIA before the contagion. Something had changed as soon as those… things, had started roaming the streets. He had turned on them, would’ve taken all they had weren’t it for Melinda’s fight training. He had escaped into the city, however, building an army of men. He was fucking crazy.

“Old warehouse on the west end.” He smirks. “Can’t tell you for how long though.”

“How’s now sound?”

Phil chuckles finishing off his drink. “Now that’s the Melinda I know.”

The walk to the checkpoint is fairly calm. They live under strict city rules now enforced by a dictatorship-like military. They had tried to recruit them but they ran. Melinda couldn’t look them in the eyes. Not after what they had done to…

“Hey.” Phil calls. “Get out of your mind. Talk to me.” He had become good at detecting when she was delving too deep into her own mind. After too many times nearly killing military men in revenge for her daughter, Phil learned when she was going too far. He was her anchor. She had just pushed Maria away but Phil wouldn’t leave her.

“I’m fine.” She breathes. He places a hand on her back supportingly, guiding her towards the checkpoint.

“ID please.” The man grunts. Phil hands over both when a truck on the other side of the gate suddenly explodes. Phil reacts quickly covering her body with his facing her away from the blast. Gunfire echoes in her ears as the soldiers fall into a small war.

“It’s SHIELD!” One of them shout. SHIELD was a rebellious group of men and women that had risen from old soldiers and agents who had refused to be a part of the military regiment. They were basically anarchists, even gave the military the nickname Hydra. They remained in the shadow most of the time but apparently they had picked a really inconvenient time to show their faces.

“Run!” Phil shouts. Melinda kicks the ground before her feet even manage to cooperate with her, taking off towards the buildings for safety. She pulls him into a nearby building allowing them a moment to catch their breath.

“So much for the easy route huh?” He laughs.

“I’m glad you find this amusing.”

“Reminds me of the old days.” He grins. “What can I say? I’m a nostalgic guy.”

“Right.” She chuckles. “Are you hurt?”

“No, you?” He asks, eyes tracing her figure.

“I’m good. Let’s go.” He helps her move an old television set out of the way before hopping down a hole in the walls and floor. Someone had discovered a sewer that led to the fifth district just underneath this building and basically constructed an underground tunnel of sorts. It was dirty, raided with toxins, and unsafe as hell but it was their only option. They weren’t going to let Garrett get away again.

Phil comes down after her slipping on his gas mask. Together they roam the tunnels in silence. A groan followed by heavy steps echo through the tunnels. Phil throws her a look and two nods. Two of them, standard size. After years of working together they had gotten used to silent communicating. Melinda spins out from behind the corner and throws two knives, each burying into the back of the skulls of the two figures that were previously lurching in the dim light.

“Nice work.” Phil smirks.

A quiet whimpering echoes through the tunnels followed by a small voice. “Help.” Phil doesn’t even hesitate as he rushes to their aid. Ever the hero, she regards mentally with a roll of her eyes before following. Sure enough a man is pinned beneath two giant pipes. His mask is cracked and filling with the toxic air quickly. It was the same gas that had infected the people in the first place. Ten minutes and he’d be as mindless as the rest of them.

“We need to put him out of his misery.” Phil says kneeling next to the man. His eyes were already turning glassy, his movement jerky and almost violent. Without hesitation Melinda delivers the blow halting all movement. His body goes limp under the weight and his glassy eyes are left staring at the ceiling. “Damn shame.” He mutters before taking the lead again.

It takes another hour before they’re even out of the tunnels. By then the sun is fully up and pouring into the makeshift clearing. Even after twenty years, she has to admit, the view is still pretty breathtaking. Greenery climbs up the walls intertwining with the brick. Nature is slowly taking back over and that is evident by the scene before them.

“It’s almost like a date, you know.”

“Always the romantic.” Melinda scoffs jokingly.

“Can’t help myself.” He smiles at her again. Damn those eyes. He takes the lead towards the opposite side of the grass. The alleyway leads them into a makeshift little city. Dealers stood on either side of the road. Some selling guns at ridiculous prices, some dogs, some bargaining for rations. Overall disgusting.

“Let us through.” She demands to a man sitting in front of a gate. The warehouse was just on the other side. They just needed to make their way through.

“No hello? Where have your manners gone May?” The man with an eyepatch laughs gruffly. “4 rations.” Before she can even argue with the man Phil has thrusted some over. When she throws him an exasperated look he only shrugs.

“We have more than enough for ourselves.”

The man steps aside letting them through with a shit eating grin. “Come again.” He calls.

They make their way towards the building, guns clutched in their hands. Sure enough it wasn’t as easy as marching into the place, she muses when gunshots fire off around them. They duck behind cover easily, their backs pressed to cool metal.

“Ten men. Likely more in the warehouse.”

“Follow my lead.” Melinda states climbing up on top of the dumpster they were using for cover. The high ground allowed her the angle to take out the three guys on the balcony. She flips off of the metal onto the solid ground taking out another two that had shot at them from behind. Phil uses the distraction she provided to take out four more. The last man had tried to flee but Melinda landed a perfect shot between his shoulder blades.

“Let’s go get our man.” Phil smirks.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

They found Garrett trying to scale a fence in a desperate attempt to flee from the two of them. His men were gone, absolutely destroyed by the two of them. Melinda grabs the back of his shirt ripping him off of the metal and throwing him into the dirt.

“You tried to send men after us huh?” Melinda smiles pointing a gun at his forehead. She delivers a kick to the abdomen. For Phil, she tells herself. But she also can’t deny how gratifying it had felt too.

“No hard feelings right?” Garrett laughs through a pained groan.

“That’s cute.” She seethes kicking him again. She definitely heard ribs crack that time.

“Where are the guns Garrett?” Phil asks reminding her of his presence

“It’s… complicated.” It was Phil’s turn to join in kicking the man so he lied flat on his stomach. He takes his right arm twisting it at a painful angle behind his back. “Stop! Stop! I’ll tell you.” Phil loosens his grip throwing Melinda a smug smirk. “I sold them.” The smile fades from the both of their faces as the reality of the situation sets in. That had been twenty four of their guns. Twenty four guns that he had stolen and apparently now sold.

“Who has our guns?” Melinda growls

“I can’t. I owed them.”

“You owed us too. And I might have given you a few more days if you hadn’t have tried to kill Coulson.” She seethes pressing the gun to his temple.

“It’s SHIELD! I owed SHIELD!”

“What?”

“We can get them back. They’re all basically dead anyways.” He laughs. “Fuck SHIELD!”

Melinda shakes her head moving to stand. “That’s a stupid idea.” She growls shooting him in the head.

“Feel better?” Phil asks raising an eyebrow.

“Now that we don’t have a psycho after us? Yes. Much.”

“What now?” He asks with a sigh.

“We get our guns back.” She shrugs.

“How?”

“I don’t know Phil. Let’s explain it to them.” She sighs. “Let’s just find a firefly.”

“You won’t need to look far.” A new voice steps into the mix. She looks up, shivers running down her back as Andrew steps into view.

“What the hell are you doing here?” She grumbles, her hand still tight on her pistol.

“I need your help Lin.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“I need something smuggled into the city.”

“So you stalk me and get yourself shot in the process.” She remarks nodding to his wounded shoulder.

“It’s not bad.”

“Sure.” She scoffs.

“Look, you help me, I’ll get you your guns back and then some.” He bargains.

“Deal.” Phil cuts in quickly.

“Phil!”

“You and I both know we’re down on weaponry Lin. Those guns were all we had.”

“I want to see them first.” Melinda states. “Lead the way.”

Andrew guides them back to a camp hidden deep in a maze of greenery and destroyed buildings. They finally make it onto the base when a body suddenly leaps at her. She’s about to attack back when she is able to make sense of the screams coming from the girl.

“What did you do to him?” Her attacker cries out.

“Daisy! Easy!” Andrew calls out. “It wasn’t them.” The girl backs off of her and Melinda is able to just barely get a look at her in the dim light. It’s a young Chinese girl, likely in her mid to late teens. Her eyes are wide and panicked as she rushes to Andrew’s aid.

“Who are they?” She mutters as she helps Andrew with his shoulder.

“Daisy, this is Phil and Melinda. Phil and Melinda, this is Daisy. You’re going to be smuggling her out of the city.”