#shes gonna get tetanus from adventuring

[hqmillioncorn]

SOS (Save our Sbabycorn)

Babycorn sneezed once, then twice, then another three times.  Her nose was all stuffed up. It was so hard to breathe sometimes that Babycorn was worried that she might be dying. That was far from the truth because all she really had was a small cold, but Babycorn didn’t know that.  Her entire body felt sore and she was beyond tired. As she and Cherrypit walked through Gridania she was wobbling from side to side. “Bebe?” He was starting to get a little worried.  Babycorn stopped and swayed from side to side. “I’m fiiiine! Cherry! Don’t worry!” She smiled, while talking to a post in front of her. “...Cherry did you get taller?”  All of a sudden Babycorn’s balance failed her. She dropped down into a small puddle of water with a loud “Eek!” In an instant her clothes and her hair were soaked. And for some reason… “...Hey! I feel a whole lot better!” 

ffxiv write day 26: zip

babycorn visits some family when they figure something about her thats kinda important

To say that Babycorn was nervous was the understatement of the century. 

Right now there were about a million different places she would rather be than the place she was right now–at this very moment in time. Pupusa was sitting next to her but unlike Babycorn she was the very picture of uncaring apathy. Currently she was flipping through her third magazine at the time. 

From the way Pupusa was looking at it Babycorn figured it wasn’t a very exciting read.  

Babycorn wiggled uncomfortably in her chair. “Hey Pupusa? Can we just go home and forget the whoooole thing happened?” She hoped that they could walk out those doors and never ever turn back. That would be the best outcome. 

“If I let you run off I would never hear the end of it.” Pupusa didn’t even bother to give Babycorn a glance. Rather, she just kept on reading the stupid magazine in her hands that she hated. 

“But I don’t wanna be heeeeeere” Babycorn wailed. 

“Does it look like I want to be here either?” 

“Um…”

“The answer is no, Bebe.” Pupusa flipped a page in her magazine, gripping it tightly enough to give it even more wrinkles than it already had. It was a pretty old magazine.  “Besides–you only have yourself to blame for being here.” Despite the harsh wording Pupusa was one hundred percent right. 

“How is this my fault?!” 

This time Pupusa was annoyed enough to stare Babycorn in the face. She set her magazine down by throwing it back onto the coffee table in front of her. “Are you serious?” Pupusa knew Babycorn was dense and a little bit stupid but there was no way someone could be this dumb.

“We’re both here because you had to open your big fat mouth!”

Just a few hours earlier Babycorn had arrived at their home on a whim. All because she had happened to be visiting Ul’dah for an errand someone asked her to run. Pupusa had answered the door and promptly slammed it shut in front of Babycorn’s face. No way she was going to spend the afternoon with the Warrior of Light. Nuh uh. 

The only reason Babycorn had been allowed in was because Ceviche was on her way out and happily invited her inside. 

“I’m just on my way out with Libra but help yourself to any snacks around!” Ceviche grinned. In her arms was Libra, her one-year old daughter. Libra shook the rattle in her hand and smiled at Babycorn. She babbled her own unique greeting at her. 

“Hi Libra! Cool shaky thing! Babycorn did not know what a rattle was. “Where are you guys going?” Wherever the answer was–Babycorn was going to follow them to make sure they were safe. After all, absolutely anything and everything could happen when Babycorn personally wasn’t right behind the people she cared about specifically. 

“We’re just going to the doctors!” Ceviche answered. 

Babycorn was NOT following them.

“Okay have fun!” Babycorn moved so fast over to the kitchen that for a second it looked like she teleported herself in there. The sounds of her going to town on some leftover nachos from earlier that day very quickly filled in the silence. 

“Right.” Ceviche turned to leave, “Okay Libra let’s go get you those shots! And you’re gonna be a brave girl aren’t you?” She tickled Libra’s nose and giggled alongside her. “We’ll be back!” 

Pupusa got as far as opening her mouth to wish Ceviche a safe trip before the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps stopped her right before the first word. Babycorn had run back from the kitchen, a plate of nachos still in her hands and face covered in cheese. 

For some reason she looked really scared. 

“WHY ARE YOU GOING TO SHOOT LIBRA?!” Was this some sort of family thing she never heard about?! 

“What?” Pupusa didn’t have time for this. She sensed trouble coming a malm away. 

Ceviche on the other hand, was very taken aback. “Excuse me?!” She covered one of Libra’s ears. Even though they were covered by her onesies hoodie already. “Where did you hear that?!” 

“Y-Y-You said she was gonna get shots!” Babycorn’s eyes were watering and she was shaking in her custom-made boots. What had Libra done to deserve this?!  “Libras so smaaaall you can’t give her a gun!” Though he was still sleeping a memory of Cherrypit flashed in Babycorn’s memories. “...Then again-”

“Okay wait!” Ceviche was going to put a stop to this before it went anywhere else, while Pupusa just stared in the background, refusing to get involved.  “Babycorn. What do you think getting a shot means?” 

“Like…a gun?” Specifically a machinist gun. Like the ones Cherrypit liked to play with sometimes. Without Babycorn’s permission, might I add. 

“Seven hells-! NoO!!!” The majesty of the Warrior of Light being part of their family was quickly fading. Especially for Ceviche, who had spent the most time around Babycorn so far. “It’s just shots! Like at a doctor’s!?” At Babycorn’s age it should be common knowledge by now!

Babycorn’s memory was drawing a blank. She knew what a doctor was, some of her best friends forever were doctors! And even though they were scary sometimes they were still friends! 

“D-Don’t tell me you’ve never…”

“What? Gotten shot?” Babycorn shook her head, “I’ve been shot lotsa’ times! Mostly in Coerthas. During a fight! It was really fun!” And some other times here and there of course.

“Y-You’ve never…” Ceviche was at a loss. Was this really THE Warrior of Light standing right in front of her? “Have you ever even been to a doctor before?!”

“Just once! When I was a little girl my mama and papa took me to one cause I almost died!”

“I see.” 

Pupusa poked her head into the conversation. “I see. I guess your parents beefed it before you could get any shots.” Babycorn had already told them all about what had happened to them and in turn they told her about her grandfather. 

“Yeah I guess they did.” Babycorn did a good job pretending she wasn’t a little hurt by that.

Ceviche was deep in thought. Considering she was good friends with her daughter’s doctor she could very easily ask for a small favor. Because despite the mystique of the Warrior of Light falling to pieces–Babycorn was still family. And she couldn’t bear any family of her’s being in any danger of falling ill to any sorts of illnesses. 

It was decided then. 

“Okay! Chelinka Starsinger you’re coming with us!” Ceviche wasted no time in hearing Babycorn’s answer and grabbed her arm, dragging them outside. “Huh????” Babycorn had no objections with going with them, she was happy to! But it was a little confusing. 

Libra let out a happy little babble, as if she understood that her favorite playmate was coming with them. 

Pupusa remained silent as she watched from the front door. Finally–some peace and quiet.

“Pupusa you’re coming too!” Ceviche yelled from oh so far away.

“Aw-! What?!”

“I still don’t see why I had to come.” Pupusa slouched even deeper down into her chair. “You’re the one who needed to come here. I’m just collateral damage at this point.” Didn’t Ceviche know that she had more important things to do. 

Things that Pupusa couldn’t quite think of but surely it would come eventually.

At that moment the door to the doctor’s office opened. Both Pupusa and Babycorn turned their heads to see who was coming out this time. Unfortunately for Babycorn it was Ceviche and Libra, the latter had a little lollipop in mouth. “We’re all done!” Ceviche cried out, “And my little angel didn’t shed a single tear! She’s so brave! Aren’t you sweetie!!” She lifted Libra up in the air and wiggled her nose against her’s. 

“Okay Chelinka! Your turn!” 

“Yeah she just ran out the door.”

“What.” What Pupusa had said was true, the door was just slightly ajar and Babycorn was nowhere to be seen. This would not stand. “Here-!” Ceviche handed Libra to Pupusa and rolled her sleeves up. “I’m going to bring her back here if it's the last thing I do!” 

Pupusa let out a sigh. “Your moms really crazy–did you know that?” She grabbed Libra’s arm and wiggled it up and down. “Cwazy! Cwazy! Mamas cwazy!” Libra repeated. Pupusa smiled and lighty tugged on Libra’s small strand of blond hair. 

As it turned out Ceviche wouldn’t have to run far. When Babycorn ran out of the doctors as fast as she could she tripped on the very first step out. Falling backwards she landed on the back of her head and practically knocked herself out. 

“Ah.” There she was, a bump on her head and a pair of dizzy eyes on her face. 

“I guess that makes things easier.” Certainly didn’t make them harder.

[tomatoswup]

New Horizons Hospital

___🕯️a decision based trigun horror adventure 🕯️__

summary: welcome to new horizons hospital, an abandoned hospital on the outskirts of town. Maybe you should denied that favor...

Play the game, Observe the story, Indulge yourself to the characters but converse with peers. Choose wisely, Every decision is dire.

caution: this game will contain : disturbing themes, horror themes, violence, the paranormal, blood, suggestive content, drug references(hospital), hospitals, insects, body horror,,, warnings will be applied to every entry this game will post.

🕯️If you can not handle any of horror or violent-like subjects, I would advise you not to play.

🕯️the way this story is written will be based on the consensus voting that the audience will be doing. You, the reader, are the main character.

A/N: hI YALLL!!! Welcome to the 100 follower special!🎉 :D It took a bit for me to make this work more easier so I thought this was the best way! I also been wanting to write a horror-centric trigun fic au bc of the lil cosmic horror that happens in the Trimax manga also fatal frame ;P ...and phasmophobia. And honestly this is gonna be a fun one!

Join and play the game! And careful, with every step you take, it may be your last. Have fun! :D

You've done plenty of things in your life... Actually rephrasing that, probably not the amount of things other people have done like party or adventure, but you've done enough that you were just...content!

Like visiting cafes, or visiting your local library! Those were most things you would've liked to been doing at the moment, and not..

This.

The loud cracks of thunder striked through the night sky and the drowning rain didn't stop for just one second as you tightly wrapped your jacket closer to your chest, taking a step to the side and closer to the white van doors you were standing infront of.

Wow! Look at that bright sun! Such mood-lifting weather huh?

'Fuck' You thought to yourself, staring up at the large ominous hospital that gloomed over you as the van stayed parked in place. With various vines crawling up its brick walls and the metallic debris scattered about the yard, you were kinda worried that you might catch tetanus in a run-down place like this.

Or maybe tetanus was the least of your problems...

"Hey, I thought you guys said it was a small clinic?" You nervously laughed, the palms of your hands feeling a tad bit more sweatier than before.

"Well, they did say it was pretty big hahah!" Your friend, Meryl, sweat-dropped, shooting you a sorry smile as she unpacked wires and cameras from the various boxes around the van.

You quickly whipped your head back to the abandoned place.

Clinic?

Whoever told Meryl about this absolutely lied to her because this damned place was not a fucking clinic. You didn't think there was any clinic that was this big around here.

"I don't think we should have anything to worry about though!"

Spinning around in her chair, Meryl shot you a small smile “Folks said it wasn’t anything too crazy like last time, just the normal nightly poltergeist!”

Normal. Poltergeist.

And too crazy like last time? WHAT HAPPENED LAST TIME FOR THEM TO SAY THAT-

Goddamn it, you really should’ve said no to doing this favor for her. 

“Pretty please? Oh cmon! You said a psychic told you that you had a really high energy no? Maybe you could help us get some ghosts while Nai is out sick! Please?” She had begged you while you were working your morning shift at the coffeehouse last week. You knew Meryl's done some odd jobs before but this one was the oddest. Ghost hunting really?

Thinking back onto it, it wasn’t even a real psychic it was really just some random ass dude wasted out of his mind from the club next door!

At least he was nice enough to not throw up on the floors the part-timer had just mopped.

But you couldn’t go back on your word could you?

You sighed, wiping the rain drops away from your forehead “So who’s going in with me-”

Your shoulders jumped up in surprise as a loud bang sounded through the van as her partner, Milly, slammed a large box from the van and right in front of you, just making sure it was still under the van’s roof.

“I-Im not going in alone right??” You worridly continued as Milly brightly laughed out “Of course you’re not silly!” Cracking the top of the box open, you couldn’t help but peek into the weird trinkets inside, spotting different kinds of tech and… Was that a fucking cross?

“The others should be in here in just a bit. The rain kinda set us back just an hour but- Hey and there comes one of our crew now!” Milly cheered, waving behind you as the smell of nicotine had started to get stronger and stronger.

“Sorry, had a late service at the church.”

Wait.

You whipped your body around at the very familiar rugged voice, your shoes making a dent in the wet mud as you watched the local priest walking up behind you, a lit cigarette in his mouth and the beaded blue and black rosary swinging from his neck back and forth. 

It wasn’t until he was right beside you that he looked you up and down with a raised eyebrow.

“The coffee house barista?” “THE FUCKING PRIEST?"

Dude no fucking way was the priest who wed your aunt and uncle just a few months ago was gonna help ghost hunt.

You were taken aback as Wolfwood let out a “Hmph”, crossing his arms around his chest.

“Now I should be the one asking why you’re here. Didn’t you just make my drink a few days ago?"

“Yeah I did and I hope you know that’s the worst flavor on the menu. And I’m here as a favor for a friend that's all."

Wolfwood ignored your remark, turning to Milly who held out small ear pieces for the both of you to put on “Hey is blondie here yet or do we gotta start without him?” He lazily asked, taking the ear piece and putting it on as you followed suit.

“You guys can start,” Meryl called out from inside the van, before popping out and placing something bulky in your hands. With golden rims and odd scriptures alongside those rims, the old-

Actually really old antique camera fit well in your hands “Vash texted me he was gonna be a bit late so we’ll start off slow and steady, okay guys?”

Achieved! "Camera Obscura"

You couldn't help but scrunch your face up in confusion, motioning to the camera she had randomly just handed you. "Oh right! That's the Camera Obscura, it was given to us by our boss Roberto. You remember? The one I brought the other day?"

Oh! The tired man who really liked black coffee! "Apparently it exorcises spirits if you get them in the pictures you take but we haven't tried it out yet. Maybe you'll be the right person for this? Our medium isn't here yet but this is a good head start!"

You looked back down at the camera and moved it around in your hands, getting use to the weight as you looked at the dents and cuts on the surface of it t as Wolfwood blew out another small cloud of smoke.

“So who are we dealing with now?”

Meryl tinkered around with a tablet in her hands “Our main ghost is nicknamed “Four Legged Sherry”, apparently she appears more when people are alone…” At every word she spoke, you couldn’t help but play with the hem of your jacket in nervousness at the thought of what you were getting into.

Just your luck wasn’t it?

You put the camera strap over your neck, it's home for the time being before you felt the wind get caught in your throat as Milly slapped both hands down on your shoulders, a small “Eep!” slipping out of you as she gave you a thumbs up “I know you’ll do well with this being your first time and all! Good luck!” 

Achieved! Teammate Nicholas D. Wolfwood, Exorcist

And before you knew it, you were making your way inside the desolate place alongside Wolfwood as the radio crackled through your ear piece.

“Check, check, check! If you can hear me, please click the button on the earpiece and respond.” Meryl’s voice rung out, earning a response from the both of you before you guys continued and thus, began the hunt. 

“Do you guys do this often?” You asked curiously, closely following Wolfwood through the dimly lit hallways, each bang of the nearby animals making you turn in paranoia as every empty room was filled with darkness, the flashlights y’all held illuminating the peeled rotten walls around.

Each step the both of you took through the puddles on the floor echoed like music from the depths of hell.

Fuck, you were never doing this ever again. 

Woflwood lifted up the small cross at the end of his rosary and used it to scratch the top of his head, cigarette kept lit in his mouth “Too often than I’d like to really.”

He suddenly stopped in place before whispering to himself, turning towards you as he made a taunting scary face “Scared already? You’ll get use to it, this is nothing!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the small statement “You act like I’m gonna be doing this again.” You brought the camera up to your face and snapped a picture of the hallway before the polaroid slowly popped out from the top.

He went quiet again, staring down the dark hallway with a stern look, before taking the cig from his mouth and throwing it to the floor, crushing it clean under his shoes as he muttered under his breath, the final cloud of smoke leaving him.

"You will."

You didn't get to respond before a small breeze of wind gaze your cheek, making you turn your head and your light into one of the desolate rooms, rusted with olden beds and papers scattered around the floor.

Obtained this chapter:

-Camera Obscura

-Teammate Nicholas D. Wolfwood

UNLOCKED:

Entry 1 NOTEBOOK

description: photographic findings, files, and personal character entries will be posted in the notebook.

[uncovering-sumac]

Another one of Pat's old articles. I figured we could rerun it since the mayor wants more stuff about the lake, but he stepped in at the last minute and pulled it. His advance copy came back oozing with red ink. I'm gonna post the whole thing here because 1) I had to work late on a Friday to redo it so fuck him, and 2) why does he want this stuff cut out? It's a little weird, sure, but nothing inappropriate. Why doesn't he want the town reading this?

Candor Lake: An Inside Look, by Pat Davies

(text cut by the mayor is in red)

It's the first day of summer and the outdoors are calling! With Black Cedar State Park in our backyards, we are incredibly lucky to have a wealth of natural beauty and recreation at our fingertips. To make sure we stay safe and get the most out of our summer adventures, I sat down to chat with Ranger Bryn from the NYS Department of Parks, Recreation, and Historic Preservation. Pat: Hi Bryn! Thanks for chatting with me today. What are you most looking forward to this summer? Bryn: Of course! I'm really excited to get out on the hiking trails. We've just repaired the Orange Trail, my favorite, and it's now open to visitors!

Pat: That's wonderful. Do you have any safety tips for those hitting the trails with you?

Bryn: Make sure to wear bug spray and check yourself for tics after you hike. Stay on the trails and only hike in the daylight. And please, if you come upon any building ruins, don't climb inside to explore.

Pat: I'll have to second that. When I was younger, I went exploring in the old Cayhill mansion and cut my arm open something awful!

Bryn: Right. I know how cool the old houses look, but they're not maintained or safety tested. So just think about whether that selfie's worth a broken ankle or a tetanus shot. Pat: One area of the park that we expect will receive a lot of traffic is Candor Lake. Do you have any advice for someone visiting the lake for the first time? Bryn: Yes. Uh- please don't run away. (Laughs) I think people are put off by its appearance when they first see it. But it's actually a really unique piece of nature. We've known about the lake water's qualities for a long time, like when people used to take it therapeutically to clear their airways and soothe their muscles. Animals are smarter than we give them credit for, and they come to the lake to soak their injuries or to relieve pains when they're dying. And so you end up with a lot of dead animals. It's perfectly natural. Pat: That's fascinating. Animals really do know better than us sometimes, don't they? Long before we knew about depletion, they were already avoiding drinking from the lake. Bryn: Yep. That's an example we should all follow. When the water drops below a certain level, Candor Lake isn't able to support a healthy community of fish, amphibians, and other creatures. The ripple effects spread to the whole forest. The best thing you can do to take care of our environment is to leave the water where it is. Pat: Thanks for the reminder! We all need to do our part. What are some healthy activities you'd recommend at the lake this summer? Bryn: Swimming for 60 minutes or less is a great way to cool down on a hot day. You can catch bugs and tadpoles by the shore as long as you release them, and you can fish with a permit or go kayaking. You'll find lots of cool species that have adapted to the lake's unique environment. I also love to walk along the shore and identify bones. I do it with my little niece a lot, and she's already becoming an expert! Pat: Adorable. A new ranger in training! Bryn, thank you very much for your time today. I hope our locals and tourists alike will learn a lot from what you've told us. Have a great summer season!

[sergeantxrogers]

Money Power Glory - 2

“Working with the feds now, lovie?”

“Unfortunately. They won’t find out, though.”

“I’d hate it if they did. You’re too pretty to kill.”

James “Bucky” Barnes, New York state’s most infamous organized crime leader since the 1980s. With Bucky weaving through the fingers of local police and the federal government for far too long, they decide to go with plan B: you. Your job? Simple. Relay inside information back to the FBI, slipping through the cracks of Bucky’s fortress of a crime ring as an unknown imposter. The Bureau, however, has no idea you and Bucky are much more acquainted than you let on.  

Pairing: Criminal!Bucky Barnes x Informant!Reader

Chapter word count: 3.2k

Chapter warnings: None, just some footsie under the table and Tony being an ass (I’m doing this unintentionally, I swear)

“Is this necessary?”

“Very much so.”

“But I don’t even drive a Honda.”

“Does it matter?”

You stared at the car key lying in your open palm, unamused. Your gaze flickered back to Maria’s, staring at you in the rearview mirror.. She raised her brows, daring you to keep talking, and you rolled your eyes. 

Bucky knew you didn’t drive a Honda. Obviously. He’d never bought you a Honda, therefore, you didn’t drive one. The agents, of course, didn’t know that, so when they gave you a key to a Honda Civic that apparently didn’t exist with a microphone chip inside it, you couldn’t complain too much, at risk of being too suspicious.

“It’s gonna be really easy, kid,” Tony’s voice rang out from the driver’s seat. “You already know what you have to do. Just go in, strike a deal, peak their interest, get out.”

You sighed, focus travelling back to stare at the passing buildings through the window of the Jeep. 

“Easier said than done,” you muttered, and you heard Maria hum in response. 

Sooner rather than later, you arrived at your destination: a sketchy-looking, abandoned warehouse you were sure nobody had set foot in since the 1950s. For a moment, you were thankful your tetanus shots were up to date. You stared up at the rusty building as Tony parked the car in front. 

“You’re not worried they’ll see?” you asked, as if you even cared. 

Tony shrugged. “Nope. We brought you here half an hour early.”

You stared at him, mouth agape, and he smirked at you in the rearview. Asshat.

A few grumbles from you, some words of encouragement from Maria and a wink from Tony, and you were left standing by the side of the road alone, in front of a shady, probably rat infested warehouse, waiting for members of a crime ring to show up. Just another regular day in New York. 

When Maria had told you they had set up an arms deal with Barnes and his crew, with you as shark bait, you thought they would’ve at least given you a goodbye before leaving you stranded with criminals. 

Fidgeting with the hem of your sweatshirt, you sighed impatiently and shifted from one foot to the other as five, ten, even twenty minutes went past. You were just about fed up when you heard the familiar purr of Bucky’s car, smooth engine travelling down the shoddy street until it’s sleek, black figure stopped right in front of you. 

Bucky got out first, biting back his hello, and was followed by Steve leaving the passenger’s side. The blond gave you a small smile and a wink, and you smiled back before you met eyes with Nat, who was the last to exit the expensive car. She threw a smirk your way before slamming the car door shut, stepping behind it to open the trunk. Steve was by her side in an instant, lugging out two large duffel bags you presumed were full of weapons, and she slammed the trunk shut again. 

Bucky strode up to you, looking as impeccable as he ever did during a deal, head to toe in gray Versace. Your breath hitched when he stopped in front of you, unbuttoning his suit and shoving his hands in his pants pockets. He looked down at you with a knowing smile on his pink lips, blue eyes glinting with the foreplay of an adventure.

You hardly even registered Steve and Nat carrying the bags into the warehouse, disappearing behind the large, sliding rusted metal door, with Bucky standing just a breath away. You swallowed heavily, and met his stare with a smile of your own. Slowly, teasingly, you lifted your arms, holding them out beside you as his hands met your waist. He patted you down, hands travelling around your waist, your hips, down your legs, over your ass. He wasn’t stupid; you both knew you were wired, and most likely being listened to right this moment. He did it for the shits and giggles, and you would’ve kicked his face in while he was kneeling in front of you if it wasn’t for the delicious shiver that ran up your spine at his touch. 

Bucky rose to his feet, giving you a quizzical look with a brow raised, and you silently lifted the car key, hanging from your pointer finger. He nodded in understanding, then cleared his throat. 

“Follow me.”

You did, shamelessly admiring the view from behind as you followed him into the dark warehouse, towards the only corner in the entire empty building that was lit up by a flickering bulb hanging from the ceiling. 

Steve and Nat hadn’t even bothered to unzip the duffel bags they threw on the floor. They didn’t really need them anyway, so you supposed they were just there for show; in case any lingering federal agents decided to hang behind and watch.

Bucky motioned for you to sit down in one of the old metal chairs surrounding the equally as old table. You took a seat with a sigh as you watched him point a finger to his ear, and Steve and Natasha nodded in understanding. You were being listened to. 

They all took their seats around the table, Natasha to your right, Steve to your left, and Bucky right across from you. He leaned back in his chair slightly, crossing his arms over his chest. You bit back a smile as you felt him nudge your foot with his own, and cleared your throat before you began speaking.

“I’d like to see what you have to offer,” you said steadily, slipping into the role of fake potential buyer easier than you would’ve liked. 

Bucky’s brow quirked, and Natasha smiled in your peripheral. 

“You have something in mind?” he asked lowly, playing along. You swallowed heavily, eyes flickering to the car key laying on the table, then back up at him. 

“Show me first.”

With a simple nod from Bucky, Steve’s chair screeched as he pushed it back, getting up to lug a duffle bag over to the table. It made a dull thud when he dropped it onto the hard surface, echoing throughout the empty warehouse and rattling the key on the table slightly. You made eye contact with him as he made sure to slowly unzip the bag, for every single movement to be heard on the other side as he did so. 

Steve sat down again silently. Natasha shifted in her seat.

“Pick your poison,” Bucky said evenly, leaning forward in his chair to rest his elbows on the table, and you did the same, giving him a smile.

“Now, this can’t be all you got, can it?”

Bucky nudged your foot harder under the table, and you narrowed your eyes at him. A brilliant idea came to your mind, one that would make this situation all the more fun; slowly, as Bucky stared at you, trying to come up with a response, you toed off your sneaker under the table, leaving you in just your sock. 

“I never said this was all, did I?” was Bucky’s smart reply, and you hummed in fake contemplation as you let your foot travel up his leg, lifting his pant leg with your toes delicately. 

The only reaction you got from him was a surprised flick of his brows and the clench of his jaw, before his face went back to normal. You moved your gaze from him to look at Natasha, who nodded. 

Stroking his leg with your foot under the table, continuously, softly, you tilted your head when you saw him swallow. 

“Would you be willing to show me?”

Bucky hummed, and cleared his throat. “What, exactly?”

You shook your head, shrugging. “Anything you recommend, Mr. Barnes?”

You saw Steve raise his brows in surprise at the name you used, and your eyes flickered towards him, before dropping to the key on the table. You looked back at him with a shrug, and he seemed to understand. Bucky gave a nod, and the blond and the redhead simultaneously pushed back their chairs, getting up, each grabbing a duffel bag in their hands. As they got ready to leave, Bucky leaned forward over the table. You did the same, shifting your foot against his leg as you did. 

“A pretty girl like you deserves nothing but my absolute best,” he said, low voice caressing your spine. 

“And you’d be willing to give up your best? You don’t even know me.”

Bucky gave you a shrug and leaned back. “I have a hunch.”

You hummed and leaned back as well. 

“So... when?” 

Bucky pretended to think about it for a moment, tilting his head side to side, pursing his lips. 

“Next week.”

“Hm. Where?”

“Vegas.”

You pulled back a bit, stunned. He hadn’t mentioned anything about Vegas.

Bucky nodded in amusement at your reaction, and you tried to keep the smile out of your voice as you said, “How do I know I can trust you?”

“Well, doll, how do I know I can trust you?”

“Touché.”

Metal screeched on concrete as Bucky got up with a deep exhale. Shoving his hand into a pocket somewhere inside his suit, he pulled out a small burner phone, placing it quietly on the table with a wink. 

“I’ll have one of my men being in contact with you. Don’t you worry,” he said evenly, even as he pointed to the phone and made a gesture for you to call him later.

“Fine.”

“All you need to worry about is being there.”

As he moved past you, the scent of his cologne carried on a slight breeze, you twisted in your seat. 

“Don’t you need to know my name, Mr. Barnes?”

Bucky paused, looking at the door where Steve and Nat were already waiting for him, and turned. 

He gave you a soft smile, eyes softening as he looked down at you, then took a couple quiet steps toward your chair. 

The soft hand he caressed your cheek with was a harsh contrast to the words he spoke: “I’m sure I’ll find out soon enough if it matters. It’s not like I care.”

You let out a deep breath as he leaned down, gently kissing the top of your head. He straightened himself, buttoning his suit and gave you a breezy smile. Then he strutted away to where your friends were waiting for him, and both of them sent you waves of goodbye before the three of them left and you were left sitting in a rickety chair in the warehouse alone.

You made sure to listen to the engine of Bucky’s care fade before you spoke into the car key.

“I’m finished. You can pick me up now.”

Sighing heavily, you leaned forward to put your sneaker back on, smirking to yourself at the prospect of what awaited you for pulling that little stunt. 

When you sat back up straight, your eyes fell on the burner phone Bucky had left you, and you quickly snatched it from the table, shoving it into the pocket of your hoodie before the feds got back. 

Ironic, you thought to yourself.

You had to bite back the smirk threatening to spill over your lips as you narrowed your eyes, in a stare down with Happy through the glass window of Rhodey’s office. He was sat at his desk, pausing his typing on the computer to have a staring contest with you, ever unamused as always. 

Ironic, because he spent so much energy being so glum all the damn time. Would it kill him to give you a smile now and then? 

Your staring contest was broken when the door to the office opened, your eyes shooting back to Rhodey, who let out an exasperated sigh once he saw you. 

“Please get out of my chair, Y/N,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

You slouched your shoulders in disappointment, the smile falling from your face as he motioned for you to get up. 

Trailing into the office behind him were Tony and Maria, both with poker faces you couldn’t read if your life depended on it. 

“You’re no fun,” you muttered as you moved around the desk and plopped yourself down on one of the chairs in front of it. Your eyes followed Maria as she sat down in the matching one next to you, and then Tony, who decided to stay standing, leaning against Rhodey’s desk. 

“Ya know, Rhodey,” you began, and you could’ve sworn Tony rolled his eyes. “If you weren’t planning on telling me you were gonna send an officer to pick me up, you could’ve at least sent someone interesting.”

“What’s wrong with Coulson? He’s a great cop.”

“Great cop, maybe. Great conversationalist? Mmm, not so much,” you said with a shrug, and Rhodey sighed, again.

Maria cut in, throwing a leg over the other as she spoke to you. “We listened through the recording again. You did a wonderful job.”

You were just about to say thank you when Tony scoffed. You froze, eyes sliding to him, and you tilted your head.

“Is there a problem, agent?”

There was a bite in your tone that Maria could sense, and she shifted awkwardly in her seat.

Tony, however, was unfazed as shrugged. “It’s not like we sent you into a mine field. You did fine.”

You grinded your teeth, clenching your jaw, and decided to ignore him, turning back to Maria. “And? Now what?”

“Well, first we’ll need to gather more details. I’ll need you to tell us absolutely everything you remember. How many people were there, what they looked like, their names, what they were carrying, which direction they came from and drove off into. Things like that.”

“Hm. Well, there was only one other guy there aside from Barnes,” you said, lying straight through your teeth. Maria nodded though, encouraging you to continue.

“He had dark hair.” Lie.

“And brown eyes.” Lie again.

“He wasn’t that tall, maybe average build, I guess. I don’t know his name.” All lies, lies, lies, but like hell were you going to willingly describe Steve to the feds, and above all that tell them his name. 

Maria pulled out her cellphone, typing a few things into it, before turning her attention back to you. 

“And they were only carrying arms?”

You nodded.

“Which direction did they come from?”

“The same one we did,” you said without skipping a beat, having rehearsed this same exact conversation in your mind already. 

“And where did they go?”

This was where you shrugged. “I dunno, I didn’t see.”

“You were still inside when they left?”

You nodded again. 

“Alright. Did you happen to get a glimpse of their license plate numbers?”

You tilted your head, pretending to think about it for a moment as you dropped your gaze to the floor. After a second, you shook your head, looking back up at her.

“No, I don’t think they even had plates.” Lie.

Rhodey cleared his throat, willing for your attention. “We heard him mention Vegas?”

“Yeah, that’s right. He said he wants to meet there to talk more specifically.”

“And are you going?”

Before you had the chance to answer, Tony butted in. “Of course she’s going, she has no other choice.”

You rolled your eyes, tempted to tell him you’d be going to Vegas with Bucky either way, but you clamped your mouth shut as Maria got up from her seat. 

“Y/N, you’ve been a big help, and this has been a success,” she said with a smile, and it was in that moment that you decided she was definitely way too nice to be an FBI agent. 

She stepped away, heading for the door, motioning for her partner to follow. Tony turned towards you one last time before slipping through the door frame. 

“Oh and - we have your number, so, we’ll give you a call to let you know when you’ll be needed next.”

And with that, they were gone, and it was only you and Rhodey sitting in his quiet office.

You pursed your lips to the side awkwardly as you avoided his eyes, instead finding the pens on his desk insanely interesting. You were just about ready to implode when Rhodey spoke.

“You know, kid,” he said with a furrowed brow, “I’m not happy you have to do this.”

You gave him a puzzled look. “What, exactly?”

“This,” he repeated, gesturing vaguely. “Getting involved with hard criminals, being used as bait.”

Your resolve softened a bit as you looked at him. You hadn’t noticed the worry lines creasing his forehead before, or the tense way he carried his shoulders every time you were brought in for a minor misdemeanor. He still believed you to be a child, no matter how old you grew up to be. Having him as sort of a father figure in your life made this entire situation all the more difficult; lying to him, sneaking around with criminals behind his back, reassuring him that you were staying out of trouble when you so clearly weren’t. All of those things weighed heavy on your soul, and you loosed a sigh.

“Sorry, Rhodey,” you muttered. “I know I’m a bit of a mess sometimes.”

“Sometimes?”

“Okay, most of the time,” you corrected yourself with a shrug. “But I hope you know how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me these past couple years.”

Rhodey waved you off with a shake of his head.

“I’m serious,” you insisted. “You’re one of the only people that’s ever really looked out for me. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Y/N. It was never my intention for the punishment to get this far-”

“I know-”

“I just had to-”

“I know, Rhodes. I know,” you said reassuringly with a nod. “It’s okay. Just gotta do my job now.”

“Go home, get some rest. Tomorrow’s a new day.”

“Yeah.”

With a goodbye and a wave, you breezed out of the precinct, pushing open the heavy doors with a small grunt. Immediately, you were hit by a soft breeze, circling around you and over your head. You hadn’t even realized how long you had been in there until you looked up at the dark sky, and then looked at the time on your phone. 

The cool evening air did wonders to sooth your mind, however, kissing your cheeks and smoothing your hair as you walked quietly down the street. Shoving your hands in your pockets, you had almost forgotten: in one pocket sat your cellphone that you had just used to check the time. In the other pocket lay the small flip phone Bucky had given you, left with the promise of answering your call. 

Fiddling with the small phone in your pocket, you let the sounds of cars driving by, people talking as they walked passed you, the occasional baby crying through an open apartment window wash over you as you walked calmly. 

Everything’s gonna be just fine, you thought to yourself as you finally pulled out the phone, dialed Bucky’s number and put it up to your ear, the first ring being drowned out by the horn of a taxi cab. 

TAGLIST:

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[disappearinginq]

1, 3, 9, and 19 (17 too if you've any you'd like to talk about!) for the fic writer questions?

I just answered 1 from Bucky, and I out of the blue (without checking) just picked 3 as my choose your own adventure answer, so onto the next:

9) Do you visualize scenes in your head before you write them? (Can you picture the setting, character body language etc)

I straight up talk outloud to myself sometimes, and I try to imagine when the body language is gonna look like, how different tones are going to change the setting for the rest of the conversation. Are they going to be angry? Defeated? Sarcastic? Okay - how does that change the response?

Though my current favorite way of getting around this is I have had some rather nice dreams lately that play out like whole episodes of something, and my subcoscious is a GENIUS.

19) What is some random info you happen to have that you used in a fic?

I think every fic I have ever written includes random info from me - like in Once Bitten, TC's comment about rabies and tetanus is because I had just done a massive project on the two diseases for an equine class and I was like EVERYONE IS GOING TO HEAR ABOUT THIS. In a yet unposted 9-1-1 fic, there is a ridiculous amount of info about elephants. Same with sharks in an, again, unpublished fic for Magnum BECAUSE. In the upcoming fic dump for Hudson and Rex, so much dog stuff. Especially shepherd stuff, because I have apparently had nothing BUT shepherds or shepherd mixes for like 30 years now, and just forget they were shepherd mixes. STUPID amounts of info on cults and jurisdiction in my Lucifer fic Damnatio.

17) Do you have any wips that you can tell us about? What are you most excited for in you wip?

Okay, so I fell down this rabbit hole of Hudson and Rex (And dragged @itsjustdg with me - and apparently she grabbed @vix-has-arrived on her way down) hook, line, and sinker. One, all the whump tropes. I mean, canon is like the h/c section in any other fandom on AO3. Charlie is buried alive. Almost blown up. Drugged. Locked in a freezer. Had a mine collapse on him. I'm just waiting for him to get the classic "shot in the side, takes a while to notice, puts his hand on the growing stain, and then passes out" trope. I love Charlie because Charlie is a fundamental introvert - like he can be civil to most people, but really, he likes his three friends and his dog and life is good. So while falling into this fandom and dragging literally everyone I can into it, I have like 6 in the works fic for it, including another Bad Things Happen Bingo card.

This one is based on an idea (not the plot, but the symptoms) for Magnum that I pirated for my own purposes with the help of medicalmacgyver giving me the word of 'orthostatic hypotension' as what random passing out upon standing/sitting upright:

“No, I’m fine,” Charlie dismissed Jesse’s worry with a wave of his hand. “I just feel a little…” He trailed off, the train of thought suddenly derailed. Rex whined insistently, pressing in close to Charlie’s legs, pushing more of his weight against his partner’s knees.

“Are you sure?” Jesse asked, casting a not-so-subtle judgmental eye over the older detective. “You’re looking kinda pale. Are you sick?”

Charlie nodded, then shook his head. “No, I’m not sick. I haven’t been sleeping well, and I think it’s just catching up to me.” It might’ve been convincing, if Charlie sounded less like he was trying to convince himself than Jesse. And Jesse had seen sleep deprived Charlie more than once - the detective had a bad habit of pushing himself beyond what was healthy when he was wrapped up in a case. At least, before Rex came along and the shepherd firmly believe in a 9-5 work day and would drag Charlie away from his desk for much needed breaks.

Sleep deprived Charlie was grumpy, short tempered, and lived off of black coffee strong enough to stand a fork in and give heart palpitations to even the fiercest of energy drink consumers. Jesse would know - he made the mistake once, and never again, of trying a cup of the stuff, and for a whole hour, he would’ve sworn he could taste colors.

This Charlie was different. Spacey might be a more appropriate term. And the fact that Rex’s behavior was progressively more agitated, Jesse suspected it was more than just lack of sleep.

“You know,” he started conversationally, “maybe you should sit down before you fall down.”

Charlie grumbled at that. “I told you, I’m -” he didn’t finish the thought, distracted by Rex pawing at his leg. “What’s up with you, pal?”

Rex butted his snout into Charlie’s palm, whining more insistently, this time adding a short, high pitched bark for emphasis.

“Isn’t that is ‘alert’ reaction?” Jesse prodded.

Charlie’s face looked paler than before, but Jesse didn’t see the tell-tale flush of fever. Maybe it was just sleep deprivation, but something about Charlie’s speech and movement didn’t add up.

“Yeah, but…” Charlie lifted his hand away from Rex’s head, staring at it like it was a foreign object. It trembled violently as Charlie held it up in front of his face, confusion crinkling his brow. “Huh. Thas’ new…”

As soon as Jesse heard the slurred speech, he held his arm out to push Charlie back into his chair - which is the only reason he caught him when his eyes rolled to the back of his head and pitched forward in a dead faint.

‘Caught’ might be pushing it. Charlie was several inches taller than him, and while he wasn’t exactly bulky, dead weight should be measured in tons, not pounds. It was less a catch than ‘preventing Charlie from hitting face first on hard tile because he managed to hit Jesse first and both of them went down’.

Jesse dropped his tablet to catch him in an awkward sort of hug, the unexpected weight dragging them both down to the ground as Rex barked, dancing around anxiously.

“Charlie?” he asked, feeling stupid even as the question left his mouth but didn’t know what else to say. He tried as best he could to gently lay the older detective down on the ground, grimacing and muttering a quick apology as he only barely managed to catch Charlie’s head at an angle that made Jesse cringe. “Charlie? Charlie, come on, man, don’t do this to me…”

Somehow, calling for help didn’t even occur to him until he heard Donovan’s startled voice demanding to know, “What the hell happened?”

“I have no idea, he was talking, and then his hand started shaking, and then…” Jesse didn’t have a word for what happened, so he just mimed Charlie pitching over with his hand.

[deathonyourtongue]

Care Taking Ideas : “Person A giving person B an injection” with Henry or one of his characters sounds adventurous😂💓

Title: Evasion  Word count: 1446 Warnings: Needles, tears, anxiety? It’s fluff, don’t worry.

I had to do this with Sy, ‘cause I legit could not figure out how else to work out a non-medical person giving a shot. :P  Also as someone who has ZERO fear of needles of any sort (I legit ask them which arm they wanna poke if I have to get bloodwork done), I hope I did the fear of needles justice.

_______________________________________________

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You know you’re due, but you hide out in your office anyway. With all the commotion and paperwork that comes with a tour change, you hope to ride out the last day and have him forget that you’re in need of a shot. 

Though you’ve got a full sleeve of tattoos and a chest piece to boot, the mere thought of getting an actual injection makes you queasy. Rolling your neck to rid yourself of the urge to throw up, you guzzle down half your beer and silently focus all your energy into willing the ‘lights out’ call to come sooner. 

The door opening breaks your focus, but before you can even move to bar him, Syverson is in and has the door locked behind him. His smile makes it clear he’s up to no good, and though you can’t see a syringe in his hand, you know damn well there’s no other reason for him to be here, so close to the end of his shift. 

“Evenin’, sweetheart,” he grins nervously, his eyes scanning the top of your desk for any weapons, finding none. 

“I will shoot you in the face, Sy, so help me God.” He laughs, holding both hands up as though surrendering, allowing you to see the bottle of whiskey in his hand for the first time since he entered. 

“Easy, doll. Just wanna enjoy a drink with the prettiest woman on base, that’s all.” 

“You’re a shit liar and it’s not happening.” You answer, stonefaced as you turn up the metal you’ve been listening to try and calm your nerves. 

“What, the drinking, or the fun that comes after?” He asks, taking a seat across from you and reaching to the top of your mini-fridge for two glasses. Pouring expertly, he gives you the fuller glass, making it clear he’s got ulterior motives.

You and Sy have been dating for nearly five years, maintaining the lowest of profiles solely so that you two aren’t shipped off to different corners of the world. Although drinking after lights out is routine for both of you, it’s rare that you’re doing it while still wearing your uniform; usually, you’re both naked in Sy’s room, enjoying the privacy his higher rank brings. 

Taking the offered drink, you down it in one go, steeling yourself for what you know is about to happen and vowing that Sy’s not gonna get laid for a week out of spite. Sy watches you shoot the alcohol, his face a mix of sympathy and awe that you can still drink like coed despite having long passed your 20’s. Eyes locking with yours, he gives you that puppy-dog-eyed, crooked grin of his, his chin tilted down for maximum effect. Damn him and his blue eyes.

“C’mere, gorgeous.” He pats his lap and despite your better judgment, you find yourself standing and moving around the desk, pouting as you move. 

Sy wraps you up in a bear hug the moment you sit down, his strong arms holding you close as he nuzzles his nose against your cheek, his way of asking for a kiss. Tipping your head down, your lips meet his with petulant reluctance, making him smile as he kisses you back fondly. When he pulls away, he’s smiling ear to ear and you can’t help but melt a little as he gazes up at you with the utmost affection. Your eyes close as his hand cups your cheek and you lean into the touch, feeling the stress of the day dissipate, forgetting the real reason he’s here for a moment. 

“Watching you out there today, putting those boys in line and scaring the shit out of the ‘em, was so sexy,” he growls, and you can’t help the soft sound that escapes your lips as he kisses your neck slowly, ‘lovin’ up’ on you as he so often calls it. His lips press against yours once more before he pulls away, his eyes kind despite what you know is an impending betrayal. 

“You know I love you very much, right, darlin’?” You let your head fall back while groaning, unwilling to accept that he isn’t just here for you.

“And you know I wouldn’t do this to ya if I didn’t have to, right?” Your head snaps back up and you look at him with narrowed eyes and a lifted eyebrow.

“You don’t have to do anything. You could just let Doc do it.” You counter, poking at one of his pecs accusingly.

“Yeah, well, Doc bruised you last time he gave you a shot, and you passed out and fell off the table ‘cause he didn’t believe you, so...I’m gonna be more gentle, and this time you won’t end up with a concussion. Besides, there’s a treat in it for ya if you hold still and let me do it quick.” 

“That’s what she said,” you respond flatly, still not convinced. Sy chuckles, both hands moving up to roll up the sleeve opposite of him. 

“Please, Sy, no. Can’t we just wait until...I don’t know, until I cut myself?”

“Out here? Absolutely not. If we were back home, maybe. But I’m not taking any chances with this stuff out here, sweetheart.” He tells you softly, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek even as he fishes the pre-filled syringe and the alcohol swab from one of the many pockets in his pants. 

“Hey, look at me, mama. Deep breath.” Sy tells you seriously, his free hand framing your chin as he inhales deeply and lets it out again in a slow rhythmic pattern. Keeping your attention, his eyes never leave yours as he swabs your upper arm, forcing you to keep breathing deeply. 

Tears fill your eyes as the smell of the alcohol hits your nose, and the nauseous feeling rises up again just as Sy tucks you in close. Holding your head against his chest, he covers your eyes gently with his fingers, uncapping the syringe with his mouth and quickly moving the needle out of sight. Certain you can’t see it, he wraps his free arm around you tighter, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 

“Hold onto me, darlin’. Squeeze tight,” he encourages, and you do as he says, crying softly into his favorite shirt, panicking. 

“Deep breath. Hold it.” Sy’s voice is soft and patient, a stark contrast from how he normally speaks around others, especially new recruits. 

You squeak and cry a little harder as Sy pushes the syringe into your upper arm, hitting the mark with precision and gentility. A flurry of kisses are pressed to your face as he pushes down the plunger, injecting the Tetanus compound deep into your arm. Pulling the needle out as quickly as it went in, Sy presses a fresh patch of gauze to the sight, his hand pulsing gently to ease the sting and burn of the shot. 

“‘Atta girl. All done.” He murmurs, recapping the needle before shooting it and the rest of the waste into the garbage can by your desk. His face falls as he lifts your chin and sees that you’re still crying. 

“Well, that just won’t do,” he whispers, more to himself than anyone else as he shifts you so that you’re facing him, Sy wrapping your legs around his waist as he stands up. You don’t hesitate to loop your arms around his neck, unable to actually be mad at him, knowing he has your best interests at heart. With one hand under you, the other runs laps up and down your back, comforting you in the best way he knows how. 

Taking you back to your room, he sits down on the bed and just holds you, knowing the tears aren’t just from the shot, but from all the anxiety you’ve built up throughout the day to deal with it. Rocking gently back and forth, he lets you cry it out, knowing you need the release. His lips press kisses anywhere they can reach, and after a few moments, you settle, resting your head on his muscular shoulder, hiccuping. 

You feel his smile even before you hear it in his voice, Sy’s tone warm and full of love.

“You’re adorable, y’know that? My beautiful, adorable, tough-as-nails sunflower. Relax now, mama, it’s all over.”  Sighing softly, you squeeze him gently, a silent thank you for doing everything with such care and regard for your very-real fear. 

“What’s my treat?” You ask after a moment, pulling back to look into those gorgeous baby blues of his. His smile turns impish and he kisses your sternum before resting his chin there. 

“Gotta be naked to get it, darlin’.”

[hollypastl]

the disappearance of [REDACTED] ch.3

miya atsumu/reader

Summary: "MISSING: MIYA Y/N" It reads. Underneath is a picture of yourself. Age, height, weight. Everything important is listed. How embarrassing.

Genre: angst/mystery

Warnings: missing persons, time skip spoilers

Notes: crossposted on ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/28726002/chapters/70566306#main

[y/n] 10:27pm: i’m heeeereeeee

[y/n] 10:29pm: i said i’m here you asshole

[y/n] 10:29pm: hurry tf up

[y/n] 10:29pm: did you fall asleep

[y/n] 10:29pm: i’m leaving if you don’t respond in the next 30 seconds

With a painful squeak, the window slides open. “Wouldja shaddup?” He hisses. “Yer gonna wake up ‘Samu if ya keep buzzin’ my phone so much.”

“Too fuckin’ late, asshole.” Osamu groans. You can hear him rolling over in bed and Atsumu disappears from view, courtesy of a pillow flying towards his face at light speed.

You take over the spot he’d been occupying to pop your head in and lean over the windowsill. “Hey, how are you?”

“Tired.”

“Then go back to sleep, stupid ‘Samu.” The killer arm flies out again and this time the pillow lands. Atsumu’s head gives a sick crack against the drywall.

You let out a low whistle. “Nice one.”

He finally sits up and comes into view. “[l/n], right?” He’s obviously tired, and you feel kind of bad for waking him up.

Your face quirks a performative smile, remembering that you do still have to respond. “The one and only.” You straighten your arms and hoist yourself up, over, and in through the window, taking a seat and holding out your hand to shake. “Hey, you don’t mind if I call you by your first name, do you? It’d be kinda weird to call you Miya when I already call Atsumu, Atsumu. You can call—”

Without warning, you shoot to the other side of the room and stick yourself to the wall.

The door swings open.

From where you stand, Osamu’s eyes connect with the person at the door, darting towards Atsumu for a split second. He realizes there could be big trouble really quick. His mom might be pretty chill, but having a random girl sneaking into their room? Does he realize that? He was suffering from brain damage at the moment.

A silent conversation takes place between the brothers and their mom, who stands silently at the door. It kind of freaks you out, how you can see her shadow splaying out from the light in the hallway and not hear a sound.

“Go to sleep.” She commands, slamming the door shut.

A breath of relief leaves all three of them.

It swings back open. “Sorry fer slamming the door. G’night, love ya.”

“Love ya, too.”

“Love ya, mom.” They chorus, slightly out of time with the other. When they speak in tandem like that, you can’t tell who’s voice is who’s.

“And close the damn window; it’ll mess with the AC.”

The door clicks closed, the lights in the hall are flicked off, and footsteps walk away.

You hop over to give Atsumu a hand up. He’s still sulking against the wall. “Like I was saying, you can call me [y/n].” You pat him on the shoulder, which is slightly awkward because the boy is so much taller than you. You wonder what their mom feeds them. Then you remember why you’re here in the first place. Seems like the trauma of almost getting caught redhanded was getting to you.

“[y/n] can we hurry up and go?” Atsumu whispers in your ear. You’re not paying attention, you’re too busy rustling through their closet and dresser.

“I’m kinda busy, right now. And we’ve got plenty of time. What difference is a few minutes gonna make?” You slide one drawer open after the other. “Eww. Teenage boy sock drawer.” Atsumu kicks it shut and you almost lose a finger in the process. You can’t see it, but intuition tells you he’s red in the face.

“Do I even wanna know what you two are up ta?” Osamu drawls.

“We’re breaking into an abandoned sweet potato farm.” You throw a different shirt at Atsumu. “Change into that.”

“Why?”

“Because I said so, that’s why.”

“I meant why are you breaking into an abandoned sweet potato farm?” Osamu corrected. You faltered. Why did their voices sound so similar?

“The third years are planning a party to kick off summer break, but they need a location. We just need to check if it’s safe, and we’re in.” Your head shot back at Osamu and you ignored Atsumu stripping in the corner of your eye. The room was dark enough. “Wanna come?”

“Uhh, I’ll pass.” He flops back down on his mattress with an audible whump and throws the duvet over his head.

You shrugged. “Suit yourself.” You turned to Atsumu, now dressed in a shirt that wasn’t cringy as hell. “Ready?”

He was already lifting himself out the window and extending a hand to you. “Bye, Osamu!” You whisper-yelled. “Sleep well. I promise Atsumu will try to not wake you up when he gets back.”

Outside, it was much brighter. From the light of the moon and stars, you could fully appreciate the scowl Atsumu directed at you. “What?”

He shuts the window first, obviously struggling not to slam it. “Didja have to spend twenty minutes flirtin’ with my brother?”

He’s already hiking his way up the hill that they called their front yard, probably looking for his bike. “Oh, was I? I didn’t even realize.” It takes you a second but you find it fallen in the bushes of his neighbor’s lawn. “Can you blame me? He’s pretty cute.”

Atsumu sputters, yanking the handlebars from you. “Will ya stop teasin’ already?”

He’s so easy to rile up. “I’ll have you know I’m never anything but truthful.” He swings his leg over the bike and checks the road.

“Hurry up and get on. Let’s go.”

“Yeah, one sec.” Without warning, you stick your thumb and middle fingers in your mouth and whistle nice and quiet. Wouldn’t wanna wake the neighbors.

The hair on the back of his neck shoots up and he waits a good thirty seconds for the lights to switch on in one of his neighbor’s houses. “WHAT THE HELL?” He whispers. When he looks back, you’re just tapping your foot and debating whistlin’ like a banshee again.

“Just callin’ our friend.”

“Wha—”

Finally, a giant dog bounds up from the woods, surprisingly silent for his size. “Good boy, coming here.” You rub his face affectionately and finally sit yourself down on the back of the bike. “Taro, meet Atsumu. Atsumu, meet Taro. Taro-taicho, really, but he’s not militaristic about his title.”

“Whydja introduce the dog first?” He grumbles, toeing the kickstand up.

The bike jerks forward and you wrap an arm around Atsumu’s waist to balance yourself. It’d be inconvenient and uncool to fall off. A piece of dried jerky is also tossed to Taro with your free hand and you call for him to follow.

The air feels nice, breezing through your hair and tickling your skin. July heat has been unbearable, you’ve hated it ever since you were a child. But it felt nice with the sun being long gone. Even the crickets and cicadas relentless buzzing was oddly tolerable. Maybe you should make late night summer outings a habit.

After twenty minutes of coasting up and down hills and towards their destination, Atsumu breaks your comfortable silence. “Yanno, this is kinda romantic.”

“Huh?”

“You. Me. Alone. Under the stars.” Objectively, he’s not wrong. Last time you heard, sneaking out with a boy in the middle of the night did fall under the spectrum of dumb high school romantic activities to engage in. You might have even entertained the thought of playing along if Atsumu hadn’t carelessly pointed it out.

“Don’t forget about Taro.” You reminded. “Or that I wanted your dreamy brother to come along—” You fail to deliver the line flat and a laugh bubbles up.

“Will ya stop with that?” He lurches forward and peddles twice as hard, putting his frustration into kinetic output.

You cackle and lean against him. “C’mon, I can’t help it, Atsumu.”

“Help what?” He sounds exasperated, like he regrets even agreeing to this whole adventure in the first place.

“Making fun of you whenever you try to flirt with me.”

He scoffs. “M’not flirtin’ with ya! That’s just how I am!”

“M’kay.” You hum. You don’t buy it for a second. “Well, that’s just how I am too.”

“Fine.” He huffs.

“Fine.” You mirror his tone and he isn’t sure if you’re teasing him again or not. “Turn here.”

“Yeah, yeah. I got it.” He swerves to the left and you let out a short whistle to alert Taro. Just because you’re feeling extra nice tonight, you toss the dog another piece of jerky, which he leaps in the air to catch.

“Hey, want some jerky?” You’re already pulling apart a nice, soft piece for him. You’ll feed the tough bits to Taro.

“You mean the stuff you’ve been feedin’ the dog?”

“It’s for humans, too.” It definitely wasn’t.

He thinks it over for a second. “Only if you feed it to me.”

Oh, the stuff that just pours out of his mouth. Does he think before he speaks? You’ll miss hearing it someday. Just to play along, you let your breath catch. It’s just loud enough for him to hear.

“C’mon, my hands are busy, just give it here.” He argues, turning his head slightly so you can see his mouth but he can still see the road.

“‘Kay.” You pop the meat in his mouth. “Huh.” You stare at your fingers.

He groans. “What now?”

“I’m just surprised you didn’t try to suck on my fingers or anything!” You explain.

At that, you can feel him stiffen up immensely. “I—If anything, y—you’d be suuuuuh…” He trails off.

But you know exactly what he wants to say. “I’d be…?” You almost miss the sign. “Oh, hey we’re here!” You bounce off the bike before Atsumu has a chance to stop, and run up to the gate. “Wow, lucky it’s only rusted shut.” You give it a few good kicks before the metal snaps open. “It would’ve been so annoying to lug my bolt cutters all the way back here. Hey, you’ve got your tetanus shot, right?” You shoot over your shoulder.

Taro beams ahead once he can wiggle through and you’re right behind, waving the flashlight on your phone around and picking your way through overgrown weeds. You’re glad you wore tights under your denim cutoffs or else your legs would be itching like crazy right now.

“Atsumu? You coming?”

He shakes his head and runs his hand through his hair. He must be tired. It is almost midnight after all. After a moment, he follows after you. Even from several feet away, you can see his eyes drooping and the sluggishness in his step. Right, he did just bike forty minutes with you balancing behind him and not helping in the slightest. Not to mention your personality can be… grating. Or so you’ve been told. When he gets close enough, you offer your hand and he takes it without any fanfare. This old place is creepy as hell and he’s not gonna say anything to make you take it back.

To Taro, you direct three short whistles, signaling him to lead the way, but stay close. He picks his way through the field carefully and you follow dutifully behind. The fields are full of holes and pits, you’re again glad that you wore clunky hiking boots with ankle support over some flimsy sneakers. The LED light on your phone can only help so much.

“Should you be wavin’ that thing around?” Atsumu asks, voice low with trepidation.

“What thing?” You ask.

“Yer flashlight.” He clarifies, halfway between a hiss and a sigh.

Your brow involuntarily furrows. Where had he gotten that idea? “Why? Kind of need it to see, ya’ know?”

“But what if someone sees?”

You stop in your tracks, drop his hand, and turn around. “There’s no one around for miles, Atsumu. Nobody’s gonna see.”

“Then why are we even here?”

“To check if it’s safe, I told you that.”

“From what? Some old farmer’s ghost?”

“When did I— Actually, you know what? That’s a good point. I didn’t think about the place being haunted.” Considering what you knew about the history of the property. You continued to mutter under your breath and swiped your phone on. Did you have a signal here? Could you download a ghost detector app? “Maybe I’ll just have to borrow one from the paranormal club at school. They owe me a favor, after all.”

“Can you PLEASE stop rambling and tell me what we’re doing all the way out here in the middle of nowhere in the dead of night?” His palms land on your shoulders. From the way his fingers dig into your skin, you’re glad he religiously clips his fingernails.

“—”

He shakes you, roughly. “EXACTLY?”

You dropped your arm from where it was held in the air, trying to get a better signal for your phone. “We’re checking for bombs.”

The annoyance in his expression drops and leaves you looking at… You didn’t really know what that emotion was. “What?”

“I told you it was abandoned in the 40’s.” Maybe you hadn’t been clear enough when discussing it with Atsumu the day before. In your defense, it seemed pretty obvious. Why did he think there were people here? You had said it was abandoned.

“You’re tellin’ me...” He sputters.

You cock your head to the side. “I mean, why did you think I brought Taro?”

His eyes dart behind you to where the dog is patiently waiting.

“We’re leavin’.” Before you know it, Atsumu has a vice grip on your wrist and is dragging you back the way you came. But you can’t leave yet, you haven’t cleared the property. At the very least, you wanted to make it to the old farmhouse and see if the floorboards were safe for dancing!

A sharp twist and tug of your wrist frees you for a split second, but his reflexes are quick, even when he’s not looking and it’s dark out. “Let go!” You whine. He doesn’t. Any attempts, physical or emotional, are useless. You’re caught off guard by just how much stronger he is than you and you’re not sure what makes it more infuriating: that you’re weak, or that you’re stupid for not knowing.

Taro barks and your eyes widen. On instinct you grab the arm Atsumu’s dragging you with and throw your entire weight back. By the grace of the gods, it’s just enough to send him stumbling back and you both topple over in the thistle.

“Owwwww.” You moan, already second guessing yourself. There are thorns digging into every inch of your skin and Atsumu’s bony elbow has planted itself in between your vital organs.

Slowly, he lifts himself up. “What the hell was that for?” By now, Taro has bounded over and is shoving his nose in your face. He growls when Atsumu extends a hand.

“Taro, heelAHHH!” One after the other, you take the proffered hand up, tell Taro off, and rise up. Except when you put weight on your ankle, it screams in protest. Tears prick your eyes and you grip onto Atsumu for support. You feel bad for him. Your nails probably hurt.

“Don’t step back.” You warn, remembering at least that through the pain searing itself up your leg.

He shifts his weight and Taro barks a warning again. “Is he barking because of the…”

“Yeah.”

From your spot hanging onto him, you can hear his heart beating faster and faster. It wasn’t a situation you were familiar with. Should you just tell him not to be scared? But that tactic never worked for you in the past.

He’s the first one to work up some courage and kick his mind back in gear. “Can you walk?”

You test it, setting some weight on your heel. Probably not as carefully as you should have because you hiss in pain.

“I’ll take that as a no.” He sighs, gingerly turning around and crouching down, listening for Taro’s warning the whole time. “Hop on.” You comply. “Taro-taicho? Lead the way.”

The dog stares Atsumu down while you bury your face in his back. You’re so angry. At what? You’re not quite sure. Definitely not Atsumu. It’s not his fault. Then again, why did he get so mad anyways? It’s not like you were purposefully— That’s a lie. Abandoned farm from the 40’s wasn’t specific enough. Even with the additional context of your bomb sniffing hound. You let him assume and from how quiet he’s being, he’s pissed. You would be too if the roles were reversed.

Vaguely, you process him helping you back onto the bike, giving his shoulder for you to hang onto. The person you’re mad at is yourself.

“Why’re ya snifflin’?”

If this were a movie, your tears would be shining in the moonlight as the wind whipped them off your cheeks. But it isn’t and you’re glad he’s not looking at you.

“I’m sorry.” You choke out. Your throat is closing up and they’re the first words you can think of. “Are you mad at me?” They’re whispered as loud as you can make them, but you can’t put any real force behind them because the frog in your throat is getting bigger by the second. The atmosphere is nerve wracking. His answer can’t come quick enough because your mind is already jumping to different, more effective, ways to apologize. What should you do? How do you make it up to him? You’ve never been good at gift giving. Was running an option? Let him take you home and then lock the door before he can say anything. Delete his phone number and ignore him at school.

The manipulative bitch inside you wonders if giving him a piece of yourself would suffice. Would he even want it? He sure spoke like he did. Sometimes. How far would be enough? A kiss? On the cheek, or lips? How long? What if he wanted more?

He had asked before. Half joking, half serious. Unwilling to commit. Back then, your rejection had been painless. The both of you laughed immediately after and went back to normal.

But that was then and this is now. 'Now' is painful and suffocating. It's a shot in the dark, but maybe the opposite action would give you room to breathe.

[thebookkeeperslibrary]

The Time Page’s Wish: Ch. 13 - Exit This Way

Fandom: Time Warp Trio

Author: The_Bookkeeper_96

Rating: G

Summary: It’s been four months and Uncle Joe is still missing. On his twelfth birthday, Joe decides it’s time to track him down. One wish lands them in the middle of a revolution. And it seems the only way to get them home is with the help of some untrustworthy thieves. As long as they don’t take The Book for themselves.

A/N: The penultimate chapter is here!

Read on AO3

Fred, Sam, Arwen, and Juniper sit on the steps waiting for Joe and Tessa to return. It's only been thirty minutes, but it's been a long thirty minutes. The temple sits high above the city. The ruined streets of Cealus stretch out before them. The sunlight reflects off the marble pillars and cracked walls. It's so serene, it's hard to believe this place is boobytrapped.

"So, how long does this usually take?" Fred looks to the girls.

Arwen lifts her shoulders. "Tessa was only up there for fifteen minutes last time. I have no idea what's taking them so long."

"Maybe Joe died."

Everyone stares at Juniper, eyes wide.

"What?" She shrinks away, hair falling into her face. "It could happen. Not everyone can handle the awakening. Statistically, ten percent of wizards don't survive it."

"June, we really need to work on your filtering."

"I don't see the point in being dishonest." She crosses her arms, her mouth set in a firm line.

Arwen sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. "I'm sure they'll be back down any moment."

"Well, I'm going to go explore while we wait. I can't keep sitting around like this. I can feel my muscles turning to fat." Fred flexes his arm, poking at his bicep.

Arwen stares at him. "You can't be serious. You'll be dead within five minutes. You have no idea what kind of traps and monsters are out there."

He walks down the steps and turns his head over his shoulder. "Then come with me if you're so worried about me."

Seeing Arwen's look, Sam says, "He's going to go no matter what you do or say."

Arwen glances at Juniper and Sam, and seeing that neither of them are going to make an attempt to stop Fred, she stands up and follows him down the steps. "Just stick to the roads, okay? Last time we were here, we ran into a vicious monster that I'd rather not face again."

Fred scoffs a laugh. "I didn't realize you were such a scaredy cat. You and Sam would get along great. Of course, I shouldn't expect anything less from a Red Sox fan."

"I am not a scaredy cat," Arwen says, scowling. "There's a fine line between bravery and stupidity. You clearly don't know where that line is. And if you bring up this stupid sports rivalry one more time..."

"Whatever you say, scaredy cat."

They move through the streets in awkward silence. Despite the high sun, the light doesn't reach into any of the buildings, hiding whatever may be lurking inside. They reach the end of the street and turn right down a new path.

"See? No scary monsters anywhere. Sorry, Ari, seems like you girls set off all the traps last time you were in Cealus. Maybe you three aren't as great as you think you are."

"First, only my friends can call me Ari, and you haven't earned that privilege yet. Second, just because we've been lucky so far, doesn't mean there isn't anything out there."

Fred rubs the back of his neck. "Man, you girls are so uptight. I get you've been at Horae Manor longer than us and know more about magic, but you don't need to be so snobby about it."

Arwen puts her hands on her hips. "Well, maybe if you three took this more seriously, we wouldn't have to act so uptight about it."

"Jeez, you really are like Sam," he grumbles under his breath. A squat building tucked away on the side of the street catches his eye. It's painted a bright blue color and shines in the sunlight.

Arwen sighs and follows along behind him, stretching out her limbs and cracking her knuckles as she goes.

Fred watches her from the corner of his eye. "What are you doing?"

"Preparing for the trouble you are inevitably getting us into."

"Not gonna try to stop me?"

"What's the point?"

"Fair enough."

They enter the house side by side. The interior is as dilapidated as the rest of the city. Broken windows allow trace amounts of sunlight to stream inside, but overall, the house is dark. Standing in the foyer, Fred and Arwen can see almost every room in the house through various holes in the walls. Wooden beams with rusted nails and piles of crumbled stone and marble are scattered everywhere.

"Congratulations. Your adventuring skills have led us to discover tetanus city. I can't wait to pick out my souvenir rusty nail." Arwen rolls her eyes.

Fred heads further into the building, stepping over mounds of debris. "How cool is this place? It's like something from a horror film."

"How comforting," she grumbles as she follows behind Fred.

"Where's your sense of adventure?"

"I must have left it at home."

"You should lighten up, magic can be fun too you know."

The corner of Arwen's mouth quirks up. "You sound like Tessa."

"Maybe you should listen to her. She's fun."

Arwen's smile vanishes. "That fun has nearly cost us our lives several times."

"But," Fred pokes her in the shoulder, "hasn't it also given you tons of awesome adventures? And saved your lives several times? You just gotta find the balance. You act like we could die at any moment. Take a chill pill, scaredy cat." Fred folds his arms over his chest and leans against a wooden beam. A crack fills the air, the beam splits in two and crashes to the ground. The noise reverberates through the house as dust floats up from the ground. "Oops."

Arwen coughs. She flicks her hands in front of her face in a desperate attempt to create breathable air. "Great. Now I can have asthma to go with my tetanus."

Then a roar rings out from the back of the house.

"What was that?" Fred says, while at the same time Arwen says, "There it is."

"There what is?"

"The trouble I knew you were going to get us into." A slight grin plays along her mouth as she cracks her knuckles.

He smiles in return. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you look like you're about to have some fun."

She shrugs back at him, not even trying to hide her enjoyment. "I enjoy a good fight or two."

Soft footsteps begin to move toward them and a large, hulking shadow emerges from the darkness. It lets out another roar.

Arwen's smile vanishes. "But not this fight."

"So, you're saying that magic is science?"

Juniper nods, only half-listening to Sam while she skims through the notebooks she picked up earlier in the catacombs. "Technically, it's just one of the many branches of science, a long forgotten one by normal people."

"That's ridiculous." Sam huffs and crosses his arms. "Science is facts and research. Magic is… magic. It had no basis in reality. It shouldn't even exist."

Juniper lifts a shoulder, still not looking up from her notebook. "There are currently twenty-two million people involved in the magical world. I wouldn't say that to any of them. You'll figure it all out soon enough once your lessons start at Horae Manor. Magic is fascinating."

"Is that why you're so focused on those books?"

Juniper jumps and slams the book shut. "Maybe." She turns away, hiding behind her hair. "I just like learning, okay?"

"Okay. I didn't mean to offend you. You don't need to be so defensive about it. It's actually refreshing to meet someone who loves learning almost as much as I do."

"Almost?"

A groan from behind interrupts their conversation. They both snap their heads around and find an exhausted-looking Joe and Tessa standing behind them. Tessa is out of breath, but otherwise appears okay. Joe, on the other hand, looks worse for wear. Heavy bags rest under his eyes, and there's a smear of dried blood under his nose. He's leaning heavily on Tessa, who grunts under his weight.

"Joe!" Sam jumps to his feet and hurries over to his friend. "What happened?"

"The awakening." Tessa answers. "Highest high of your life. Worse hangover you'll ever experience after."

Joe groans again, too weak to speak.

"He'll be like this until we get him to the infirmary at Horae Manor. Cas will be able to heal him." Tessa sets Joe down as gently as she can. As she stands back up, her eyes do a quick scan of the marble steps. "Where are Fred and Arwen?"

On cue, a roar echoes down the streets of Cealus.

Tessa runs her hand over her face. "Nevermind. We were gone for less than an hour! What the hell happened?"

Arwen and Fred come peeling around the corner, charging up the stairs. They nearly crash into the others.

"We gotta get moving. There's this-" Fred stops when he sees Joe holding his head in his hands. "What happened to you? You look like death."

"Thanks," Joe mumbles, his senses slowly returning to him. He manages to turn his head to Tessa to glare at her. "A warning about this part of the awakening would have been nice."

She turns away, a rock on the ground suddenly becoming very interesting to her.

"What are you two running from? What was that noise?" Sam yells.

Another roar rings out. Closer this time.

"Fred pissed off a drake."

"Hey! You're the one who-"

"We don't have time for this!" Tess interrupts him. "We need to get out of here before it finds us."

"What's a drake?" Sam runs his hands through his hair.

"It's like a small dragon without wings. They spit out a highly corrosive acid," Juniper responds.

"And we're dead if it gets to us. So let's get moving. Now."

Fred helps Joe to his feet, and everyone rushes down the stairs. Fred stumbles down the steps under Joe's weight. He looks to his friend. "Can you walk at all? There's no way we're going to make it out of here like this." Fred drags Joe down another step, and bumps into Sam. "Okay, you standing here doesn't help either. Why aren't you moving?"

He peers over Sam's shoulder and sees why the group froze. A beast with forest-colored scales stares at them from the bottom of the steps with glowing yellow eyes. Razor-sharp spikes line its back from the base of its head to the tip of its tail. The claws on each of its feet are just as sharp. A string of saliva drips out of its mouth and onto the stone street, turning to the road to liquid. A low growl rumbles out of its throat. The drake.

"Change of plans." Tessa takes a step back. "Escape is no longer an option. We'll have to fight."

"Fight?" Sam's eyes widen. "You can't be serious! It's bigger than my mom's car!"

"He's right, Tessa. There's no way we'd win," Arwen says. "We'll just have to go around it."

Tessa scans the rooftops. "I can work with that. Arwen, keep the drake distracted. June, get the boys back up top. On my signal, we run."

"What are we supposed to do?" Fred asks, eyes never leaving the slowly approaching predator.

"Stay out of the way," all three girls answer at once.

"I like this plan," Sam says, following Juniper as she retreats to the temple.

"I don't," Fred responds, but pulls Joe back up the steps anyway.

Tessa runs to the side of the staircase, leaps off, and lands next to a mostly still-intact building. She starts scaling the side, making her way to the roof. Joe watches as she goes, fascinated by her speed and dexterity. Was all that because of her training at Horae Manor? Or were these skills she had picked up from her years in the circus?

Only Arwen remains at the bottom of the stairs, ready to face the drake head-on. It shows little interest in her retreating friends, and continues to crawl towards her, hissing as it does so. "I hope your fast, Tess." She lunges for the drake, landing a heavy punch directly on its snout.

The drake blinks, more surprised than hurt. It shakes the shock off and snaps at Arwen, forcing her back. Acid flies out its mouth, destroying the steps around them. Arwen feints left, driving her foot into its soft underbelly.

It cries out, whipping its tail at her, throwing her to the ground. She rolls to the side, narrowly missing a blast of acid to her face. She stands back up, ignoring the pain in her legs. "I need you to be faster, Tess!" she calls out to the rooftops.

"I'm doing my best!" Tessa's hands glow vivid purple as she whips them through the air. But nothing down below seems to be happening.

"Well, do better!" Arwen jumps back as the drake lashes out at her with its sharp claws. "I'm not trying to die today!"

"We have to help her," Fred says as he watches the fight. He tries to move down the stairs, but Juniper holds him back.

"No. You'll just get in the way."

"We can't just let her fight that thing alone! She'll die! She's already bleeding." He points to the red smear on her legs.

"Arwen is more capable than you think. She'll be fine. Besides, you're the one who got us into this mess. Do you really want to make things worse?"

Fred glares at her, but stays silent.

"Arwen, get back to the others!" Tessa yells down. "When you get up top, jump off on the right."

Arwen dances away from yet another acid ball. Throwing in one last punch, she spins on her heels and takes off for the temple. When she finally reaches the top, she's out of breath. "Tessa says to jump off on the right side. That'll take us out of here."

"Jump off? Is suicide really our only option?"

Arwen and Juniper roll their eyes in unison. "Just trust us."

They grab onto the boys and pull them over the edge. The drop should have been over fifty feet, but they hit the ground unharmed instantly.

"What the-?"

"We'll explain later. Now, move. Tessa won't be able to fool the drake for long."

The group runs down the narrow alley, Fred once again carrying Joe, who's still too weak to run on his own. They follow every twist and turn, but somehow never make it back to the main street. In the distance, they hear the drake screech. They push on, rounding one last corner before bursting out into the jungle. The last stones of the street turning into dirt.

Everyone stops to catch their breath, doubled over in shock and exhaustion.

"Where's Tessa?" Joe wheezes. "We can't leave her behind. That thing is still back there."

Like a true performer, Tessa chooses that moment to launch herself off the roof of a nearby building. She rolls out of the landing and pops up next to the others. "What are you standing around for? The drake will track our scent at any moment. Move!" Without waiting, she runs off into the jungle.

The others don't need to be told twice. They follow her, dodging boulders and trees as they go.

"We just need to get outside the magic barrier. Then I can tear us back to Horae Manor."

The group presses on, sprinting through the jungle, leaping over rocks and fallen trees. Their escape comes to a sudden halt when they reach a wide river. The water is too murky to see the bottom.

Tessa curses. "We'll have to find a way around."

"Why? Let's just wade through it." Fred lets go of Joe, moves to the front of the group, and peers into the water. "The current isn't even that strong."

"We have no idea what kind of creatures are in there. Besides, it could be too deep to wade through."

"Can't you swim?"

"Of course I can. I just-" Tessa bites her lip. Her eyes dart to Arwen, then back to Fred. "We're going around, and that's final. I bet there's a bridge or something farther upstream."

"That would take too much time. Can't you just do whatever weird magic trick you did to get us out of the city? What was that anyway?"

"Yeah, there's no way we should have survived that fall."

"Just a little spatial manipulation. As long as I have an aerial view of the space, I can twist the locations of buildings and pathways, basically making a maze. It's the same trick I pulled in Paris." Tessa steps away from the water and starts to head upriver.

"Paris?" It's difficult for Joe to process anything through the haze of pain and anger he's in, but a recent memory resurfaces in his mind. His fists clench. "You tricked us. You lured us into one of your mazes when we were in Paris. We were trapped in there for hours!"

The trees behind them begin to shake. Heavy footsteps move toward them.

Tessa's eyes flick through the jungle. "Now is not the time for this conversation. The drake will catch us if we don't get out of here."

"Why?" Joe crosses his arms. "First, you steal my pocket watch. Then you lie and manipulate me? We're supposed to be partners! What is wrong with you?"

"Wait, she stole your pocket watch?" Sam narrows his eyes at Tessa, really studying her for the first time. "I was right! I told you they were untrustworthy thieves. I knew it the moment we met them."

"We can all talk about how Tess is a terrible person later." Arwen grabs Joe's wrist, pulling him forward. "Like when we're safe inside the dining hall at the manor. It'll make great dinner conversation. But we need to survive here first."

"No." Joe pulls his arm free. "I don't trust her. I don't trust any of you."

Tessa flinches. "I'm sorry, okay?"

"Definitely not okay."

Arwen growls, "Look, she is the only one who can get us home. You can trust her now, because her life is at stake too. And I promise you, she values her own life too much to die today." Arwen's eyes slide over the trio. "So get moving. Now."

"I'm with Joe on this one." Sam holds his stance next to his best friend. "Ever since we met you girls, you've been hiding stuff from us and acting all superior. How do we know you're not leading us into a trap where we get left behind and you three make it out alive?"

"Because we're not monsters!"

"Sure about that?"

"All right. Everyone needs to just relax." Fred steps forward, placing himself in the middle of everyone. "We're in a tense situation, and we don't know each other that well yet. Once we get back to the manor, we can do a ton of team bonding stuff. We can't give up on each other just yet."

"You're only saying this so you can win the bet," Sam puts his hands on his hips.

"I am not!" Fred frowns. "That's just one of the reasons."

"What bet?" Joe's glare shifts from Tessa to Fred.

Fred doesn't meet Joe's gaze. "It's nothing. Arwen and I just had a little deal that if you could stick it out with Tessa, I'd win fifty dollars. But I totally had faith in you. I know you can stick this out."

"I don't care! Why would you do that?"

"It's not a big deal. Just calm down. I thought your little rages were supposed to go away once you were awakened?"

"Stop telling me to calm down!"

"Bunny-"

"And stop calling me that!"

The argument continues, the shouts growing louder and louder until everyone is screaming at each other.

And no one hears the drake approach. It bursts through the trees, acid spit firing everywhere. It charges forward, bulldozing anything blocking it from reaching the kids.

Their screams of anger turn into screams of terror as the beast approaches. Arms and hands fly up in a meek attempt to protect themselves.

No. Joe can't let them die like this. He may be weak and his mind may be scattered right now, but he wasn't useless. He puts all his energy into raising his hand at the charging beast and opens his mouth.

"Stop."

[noddytheornithopod]

MML New Episode Commentary Dump

There’s a lot of them soooooo

Lady Krillers:

“You recast all the men as women? You got a greenlight.” Ugh, it’s gonna be one of THOSE episodes.

Melissa is the voice of reason of course

“I had the most horrible dream... they were making a Krillhunter movie without Tobias.” Narrowly dodged a bullet there. And it continues through the episode. Too close, guys.

Tobias is wealthy, your gag just ruined any investment I had in this. :V

“Milo’s friend girl” bleh

Melissa is joining in, so much for voice of reason.

Okay, the alien fight in the background was funny.

“Lindana” we get it, Phineas and Ferb was a thing.

That song montage... it was uncomfortable. I’m cis so I’m an oblivious weirdo, but I do think there’s a couple of things that are kinda transmisogynist in here, with stuff like the shaving and the “lol ‘she’s’ strong ‘she’ put a guy down”. Not to mention it feels so sexist in that he has to be a woman in the most conventionally feminine way possible, bah.

Tobias puts on a shitty “guy as woman” voice, of course he does.

Okay this Cavendish and Dakota subplot is so forgettable I was literally zoning out. MML, what happened?

Tobias Trollhammer is embodying male entitlement, seriously.

The whole “she’s just like a female Tobias” thing is dumb too, it feels like it casts people out to want the exact same thing but women. These reboots are always new takes, or even outright new characters. And like... that’s the issue. Tobias isn’t irrelevant, he still has a fuckton of Krillhunter movies. I’m not interested in some whiny old dude with a million dollars. :V

He’s cast as the villain, ha ha ha.

“We do what we want with no regard to plot or character or making sense to the people watching.” MML, are you lowkey admitting something? ;P

The bison thing at the end is so lame. Seriously.

Okay... Tobias is actually satisfied with being the villain, and Milo is only concerned about the sudden character change. For a rather stupid episode, this is a surprising compromise. I’m not quite sure how to feel about it, TBH? It’s better than what I expected, but I’m not sure I’m satisfied.

Still though, this episode is dumb. The end.

The Goulash Legacy:

Goulash dude is meh.

“Humans and machines had a friendly relationship.” oh, so there IS some robot uprising at some point.

That kid finding the idea ridiculous seems to be the audience surrogate. :V

“Let’s go outside and see what Dr D is up to”. THIS IS TOTALLY NOT PNF GUYS

Doof sung the Moon ice-cream song... we get it, Phineas and Fe- oh wait Doof is here in general.

Norm is back... huh. He seems irrelevant though, just another invention.

Okay, chicken-replace-inator is eh, but Doof being insistent on how it works is kinda funny.

“Did that man just kiss his chicken?” What’s wrong with showing affections to pets, Miss Chase? :V

Zack is going in to get an inator even though they always fuck up... is Jackie supposed to be here again? Seriously, this feels so OOC. No reason for it, and he’s meant to be the most cautious.

Norm seems like he’s just a gag for now. Meh.

Diogee has four feet, why do his forelimbs have human feet now instead of usual dog feet, or even dog hind feet????

Zack is really carrying the idiot ball in this episode. You deserve better, man.

Diogee has hands... okay, that actually made me laugh.

Recurring raccon isn’t dead. SIGH.

So the Goulash robot comes to life. Okay.

“Paprika!” That’s going into outright so bad it’s good territory.

Love Handel. Seriously.

And the fucking robot gets stuck in a time capsule and also comes to life and is the statue at the start. Okay then.

Yet another “meh” episode. I kinda feel like the show is trying too hard to be weird now, TBH? Also seriously, Norm feels like his character is reduced to a punchline again and Zack was an idiot.

Also... I kinda feel like they treat MML on the same level as PnF too much when it REALLY isn’t.

The Dog Who Knew Too Much

Diogee episode, huh.

Lol I wonder why the museum of sharp objects doesn’t attract families

Perry is here at the talent show. Okay then.

Oh great, Doof being a pain at home, just what I want. Also... Sara has a few clothes lying around too even if it’s mostly Doof. :v

The mum thing is now even worse with Brigitte saying Doof is Sara’s brother. Ugh.

“Why does he live here again?” Because the writers said so.

The cops are targeting Murphys. Well then. Poor Martin though.

So Perry and Diogee escape from new random dudes because Diogee ate the USB shaped like a cookie. Okay.

Doof is still mad at Perry, and he just leaves. Okay.

Oh it’s that old lady again. K.

omg the eye balls lol

And Milo returns at the end. Wow.

Another meh episode, you know how it goes. Guess if you want a proper Perry and Diogee team up you might get something out of it. But eh.

Adventure Buddies:

OH HI VANESSA, YOU ACTUALLY STILL EXIST

“You’re spending too much time alone.” Just outright say he’s fucked off for too long and forgotten about you until now. :P

Oh, Vanessa reminding Doof of Perry, hmm?

The breakup drama, it’s glorious.

Vanessa is now gone, RIP. Guess like Norm it was literally just a “hey I still exist” moment. :v

Vanessa casually walks out and says hi to Brigitte. This is so fucking weird. So she’s visited before? Okay then. I mean good that Vanessa and Norm still exist, but it feels weird they’re still really neglected.

Doof is looking for Diogee now, K.

Milo looking dreamily at Zack- oh wait it’s just him having a thing written in someone’s book he’s happy about.

Brick and Savannah on Pistachio Duty is much funnier than the majority of the stuff I’ve just watched.

Doof waving to Vanessa at the start and saying to Milo to tell her he found an adventure buddy is sweet, not gonna lie.

Doof going on an adventure with Scott. Okay then.

Zack suggests a tetanus shot. Vaccination is good, kids! Vaccinate! Don’t listen to those Walking on Water founders or Greg Cipes, vaccinate!

I was starting to be lost on the Adventure Buddies thing but... Doof misses Perry and Scott with Mildred (who are clearly presented as a couple, mind you) doesn’t help things.

And they butt heads over it, with Doof even making his own girlfriend. Ooooh.

Professor Time mention. Fun.

Doof goes back home and he goes back to being all “I’ll go where they accept me” and it’s the Murphys. Granted they’re not into him being covered in sewer water, but this episode was setting up him realising how much he misses Perry, I swear.

This episode I felt was better... but then the ending came and fucked it up. So another to the mediocre pile regardless of Vanessa and Perry moments (which again despite being nice are still “why is there so much PnF?”).

Ride Along Little Doggie:

“Late in the season when the writers are tired.” Bleh.

Milo gets Amanda a drink, heh.

“I’m nominated for most tolerant friend.” “Is that a joke?” “Don’t push me lady.” WELL THEN.

Also... Zack pulling Melissa away when she was getting feisty. Kinda shippy if you ask me. :P

Elliot is fun thankfully.

Okay, I’m kinda tired of the Zippy gag now.

The recurring raccoon appears without the annoying theme song. This is a first. :V

Don’t tell me Diogee is gonna be a fucking cop dog.

Bradley is back with the stupid plant arm for a green thumb gag. Meh.

Yep, Diogee is a cop dog.

Murphy’s Law really stopping the award lol.

Greatest perseverance, what a surprise. Also lol, she kisses Milo and before she caught him. Are they a thing now?

Where the heck did Melissa go? And why wasn’t she staying around with the Murphys, nevermind Zack?

It was okay I guess? Pretty forgettable, but I had less issues than the other episodes. Milo subplot actually wasn’t too bad, it still had quite a bit that was just average but it had a few nice moments.

[advocatewrites-blog]

Into the Unknown Part 1 Chapter 2

Into the Unknown

Fandom: Undertale, Coraline (book), Over the Garden Wall, Paranorman, Gravity Falls (season 2)

Characters: Frisk, Norman B., Dipper P., Mabel P., Coraline J., Wirt, Greg, the Cat, the Frog; Sans, Toriel, Papyrus, Undyne, Alphys, Asgore,; the Other Mother, the Beast, Agatha P., Bill Cipher, Asriel D., Chara D.,

Pairings: Not the focus. Alphys/Undyne, with mentions of Papyrus/Mettaton, sans/Toriel/Asgore, and Wirt/Sara. Due to the nature of Undertale and the dating segments, there is also interpretable Papyrus/Wirt, Undyne/Mabel, Alphys/Dipper, Napstablook/Norman, Mettaton/Norman, Mettaton/Mabel, Sans/Dipper, Sans/Norman, and Sans/Greg.

Rated a high +K for violence, mild language, horrific elements that may be disturbing to younger readers,  mentions of child abuse and bullying, character death that is sometimes permanent, and mentions of suicide that may be triggering. These elements remain relatively unchanged from their source material, which most all are for children, but discretion is advised nonetheless.

Disclaimer: Undertale was created and owned by Toby Fox. Coraline was created by Neil Gaiman and owned by Bloomsbury and Laika. Over the Garden Wall was created by Patrick McHale and owned by Cartoon Network. Paranorman was created by Sam Fell and Chris Butler and owned by Laika. Gravity Falls was created by Alex Hirsch and owned by Disney. Any other work mentioned or homage are property of their respective owners. This is a fan-made, nonprofit work that only seeks to entertain. Please support the original franchises.

Start from the beginning / Next Chapter

Chapter 2

It took Coraline a moment to realize what lay outside the Ruins as the door closed behind her. The air was thick and cold, and as she stepped forward, her rainboots filled with snow. How did it snow underground?

She would have to go through the Underground alone, she realized, and at some point she would have to face whoever ASGORE was. It was going to be a lot more dangerous here on out. The adventure was over.

She tried to turn her attention to somewhere else.

“When I was a little girl,” Coraline started. “When we lived in our old house, my dad took me for a walk in the wastelands between the houses and shops. It wasn’t the best place to go for a walk, really. There were all these things that people had thrown away back there—old cookers and broken dishes and dolls with no arms and legs. Mom and Dad made me promise not to go exploring back there, because there were so many sharp things, and tetanus and such.”

A branch snapped behind her. Coraline continued anyway.

“But I kept telling them I really wanted to explore it. So my dad pulled on his big brown boots and gloves and put on my boots on me, and we went for a walk. We must have walked for about twenty minutes. We went down the hill, down the bottom of a gully where the stream was, when my dad said ‘Coraline, you have to get out of here. Right now!’ He said it in a tight urgent way, so I did. I ran up to the top of the hill when I heard him thundering behind me. He scooped me up into his arms and swept me over the hill.”

“really? what did he do then?”

Coraline nearly jumped as she heard the voice. Seeing who was addressing her didn’t exactly help. A human skeleton her size, looking at her with empty eye sockets.

“woah. you okay there, kid?” The skeleton asked. “i mean, i can’t say i know what ‘jumping out of your skin’ looks like…”

“You’re a skeleton!” Coraline managed to exclaim.

“and you’re not who I was looking for,” said the skeleton. “the name’s sans. sans the skeleton. you're a human, aren’t ya?”

Coraline watched the skeleton carefully. The human skeleton in any form looked more than a little intimidating on principle, yet curiosity quickly overcame that feeling. He was dressed peculiarly; blue sweatshirt and turtleneck to fight off the cold, yet shorts and slippers to make him comfortable. His mouth was stretched thin in a smile, but it hardly moved as he spoke. A thin layer of sweat formed on his brow, impressive considering he didn’t have any skin cells. He looked harmless enough, Coraline decided.

“I’m Coraline.”

“hilarious,” said sans. “listen, kid, we’re on the lookout for humans right now, so you better—”

“SANS!”

“oh geeze…hey, why don’t hide behind that lamp over there?”

Coraline barely had time to process that there was just a lamp on the outskirts of the forest before she dove behind it. Whoever that voice belong to, it did not sound friendly.

“relax, it’ll be fine, just let me—“

Sans stopped. Coraline heard the sound of snow crunching under boots as someone approached.

“sup bro?” sans asked.

“YOU KNOW WHAT’S SUP BROTHER!” The newcomer said. “IT’S BEEN EIGHT DAYS AND YOU STILL HAVEN’T RECALIBRATED YOUR PUZZLES! WHAT DO YOU EVEN DO OUT HERE?”

“look at this lamp,” said sans. “pretty cool, ain’t it?”

“YES, IT IS VERY…SANS, WHAT IS THAT?”

Coraline froze.

“what? it’s just a lamp, isn’t it?”

“SOMETHING WAS MOVING BEHIND THAT LAMP! “  said the newcomer. “SANS, ARE YOU HIDING A HUMAN FROM ME?”

“uh…yeah.”

“GREAT!” The other person cleared their throat before continuing. “ATTENTION, HUMAN! YOU SHALL NOT PASS THIS AREA! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WILL STOP YOU! I WILL THEN CAPTURE YOU! YOU WILL BE DELIVERED TO THE CAPITAL! AFTER THAT! I’M NOT SURE WHAT HAPPENS! IN ANY CASE, CONTINUE…ONLY IF YOU DARE! NYEH HEH HEH!”

The sounds of crunching snow grew fainter and fainter. Coraline only removed herself once it stopped completely.

“sorry about that,” sans said. “my brother can get a bit excited.”

“He said he was going to kidnap me!” said Coraline.

“relax. my bro won’t hurt anyone,” said sans. “i'll keep an eyesocket out for you.”

“You promise?” Coraline asked.

“cross my heart and hope to die,” said sans. “c’mon kid, if i were lying, you’d see right through me.”

Coraline made a face.

“what? no good? c’mon kid, you gotta work with me. i’ve been working hard to make up some puns. you could say I’ve been working myself…

Frisk woke up in the room in Toriel’s house again. They did not remember spending as much time in her house. Once they had tried to crawl back into bed and sleep everything off, but they were never able to fall asleep with Toriel’s dust on their hands.

But this wasn’t the same Toriel. It was the Other Toriel. It was a whole other world they could start to explore. Maybe this could be the start of a whole other Frisk.

At the thought, they jumped out of bed and raced into the living room. The Other Toriel was in the kitchen again, this time making a breakfast as extravagant as dinner was the night before.

“Good morning my child,” said the Other Toriel. “Did you sleep well?”

Frisk nodded as they grabbed a Spider Donut off the table. It didn’t heal and it was more crunchy than usual, but it was good all the same.

“I was thinking today you might like to explore around the house,” said the other Toriel. “Or maybe you could help your father in the garden.”

Frisk did not know how to sign explore, so they gestured for the first one.

“I thought so,” said the Other Toriel. “Make sure to eat enough, my child. I’ve invited someone special to show you around.”

The second Frisk finished their meal, there was a knock on the door. The other Toriel excused herself for just a minute to let them in.  Frisk froze as they saw the white skull and blue hoodie. Their sins crawled along their back.

“hey, relax kid, it’s just me.”

The voice was sans’, but not. It did not have that…thing, that sans’ voice always had even at his scariest. Frisk allowed themselves to look up, and saw two black buttons where eye sockets should be.

“sans has offered to show you around,” said the other Toriel.

“yeah. my bro’s got some cool puzzles he wants to show ya,” said the sans.

It took Frisk a moment to get their heart or soul or whatever to stop racing. It was the other sans. Not that sans. Even if it were that sans, he wasn’t the one they should be afraid of.

Frisk decided to follow the other sans.

ABSOLUTELY NO MOVING

Coraline continued anyway.

“Did somebody move?” A voice asked.

Coraline froze.

A figure popped out from behind the station. It was as much dog as Toriel was goat, with a dog treat dangling out of its mouth. It moved closer to Coraline on hind legs, and looked closely. Its eyes were dull with age, the same way Miss Spink and Miss Forcible’s were, and when it looked, it looked through Coraline.

Doggo blocks the way. Coraline didn’t move.

“Could’ve sworn I saw something move,” said the dog. It grabbed one of the swords off its back and spun it in its hands experimentally.

Coraline didn’t dare to move. Even as the sword glowed a light blue and the dog monster ran it through her.

She didn’t move even as she realized she wasn’t hurt after that. The dog monster removed his gaze from her, and instead looked at his sword.

“Guess it’s just my imagination,” said the dog. “Swear I don’t get paid enough for this…”

It turned, and Coraline found it in herself to move. She reached out for it, barely scratching its thick fur.

“WHAT!” It exclaimed. “I’VE BEEN PET! BY SOMETHING THAT ISN’T MOVING! …I’M GONNA NEED MORE DOG TREATS FOR THIS!”

It scrambled back into the sentry station, and as soon as Coraline knew she was alone, she let herself laugh.

“heya kiddo.”

sans stood in front of her. Coraline knew for a fact he was not there a second ago.

“here’s something important to remember,” said sans. “next time you see someone attack with a blue attack, don’t move and it won’t hurt you.”

“I think I’ve figured that out,” said Coraline.

“oh? Doggo give you a bad time?” sans asked.

“To be honest, I probably gave him a worse time,” said Coraline.

“yeah. Doggo’s great, but his eyes aren’t what they used to be,” said sans. “thinking of getting him a seeing eye dog.”

Coraline laughed at the idea, before realizing sans was serious. Or at least, he was as serious as he usually was.

“Say, why didn’t you try and tell me this before I got to Doggo?” She asked.

“oh?”

Sans looked her way. The lights in his eyes flickered.

“i wanted to see what you would do,” he said.

Coraline didn’t know what to say to that. This time, she really could not tell whether he was joking or not.

“don’t let it get to your head, kid,” said sans. “just think blue stop signs. it’ll come in handy if you ever try to fight my brother. though, uh, let me give you a word of advice about fighting my brother…Don’t.”

Sans left as quickly as he arrived, and Coraline didn’t know what to think.

The division between the other world’s Ruins and the other world’s Snowdin was firm and sudden, as purple floor tiles and flowers divided with snow and puzzle tiles in an even line. Frisk tried not to pay it any mind. It was much like that in the real Underground, anyway.

What Frisk was more curious about were the puzzle tiles. They lay across the snow haphazardly, as if whoever was setting them up had no idea how puzzles were supposed to work. At the center of it stood a skeleton with a bright orange scarf and black button eyes.

“sup bro?”

“YOU KNOW WHAT’S SUP BROTHER! I CAN’T SEEM TO RECALIBRATE THESE PUZZLES PROPERLY.” The other Papyrus’ attention turned to Frisk. “HELLO SMALL HUMAN. PERHAPS YOU HAVE SOME ADVICE ON WHAT TO DO WITH THESE PUZZLES?”

Frisk had not read Advanced Puzzle Construction for Developing Minds, so they shrugged.

“WHAT? YOU DON’T KNOW EITHER?” said the other Papyrus. “THEN WHO IS GOING TO SET UP THESE PUZZLES?”

“don’t sweat it, bro,” The other sans said. “not like we need to set these puzzles for humans anymore.”

“YOU’RE RIGHT! THE HUMAN IS RIGHT HERE!” said the other Papyrus. “AND THERE’S NO REASON TO HOLD THEM AGAINST THEIR WILL. ANYMORE.”

“right. thinking bout taking the kid to Undyne’s for lunch,” said the other sans. “could you get to work on that project we were talking about?”

“OH. YES. THAT THING,” said the other Papyrus. “I WILL GET RIGHT TO WORK ON THAT, WHILE THE HUMAN IS AWAY. WINK.”

The black button eyesocket of the Other Papyrus twitched, as if he were actually trying to wink. He ruffled Frisk’s hair before he ran through the snow in the other direction.

“so, ready to go meet Undyne kid?” the other sans asked.

Frisk made a face. No matter what they did, they never recalled Undyne being friendly with them. At a point where she wouldn’t throw a spear at them, maybe, but never friendly.

“hey, relax kid. this is the Other Undyne,” said the other sans. “she won’t hurt ya if she knows what’s good for her. she was actually looking forward to teaching you how to cook.”

Frisk gave the other sans a curious look.

“what, you didn’t know that?” the other sans asked. “Undyne’s taught my brother nearly everything he knows, even in this world.”

That didn’t exactly comfort Frisk.

“if you want, we can just drop in and play it by ear,” said the other sans. “i imagine you know how to do that better than me.”

Frisk giggled at the pun, and allowed the other sans to lead them.

The trip through the other Snowdin Town was as easy and abrupt as the trip through the Ruins. Before Frisk knew it, they were standing in front of a house from Waterfall that they recognized but never stepped in. Piano music poured from the open windows. Frisk didn’t remember that. sans gave a few raps on the door. It swung open before he could finish the third.

The Undyne that stood in the doorway looked a lot different than what Frisk remembered. Even beyond the button eye, they couldn’t recall ever seeing Undyne outside of her heavy armor.

“Heya punks! Ready for your cooking lesson?” The other Undyne asked, her button eye narrowed down at the child in a way that looked more intimidating than it felt.

“nah. think i’ll sit this one out. kid's raring to go, though,” said the other sans. “is Alphys around?”

“She headed out with Mettaton and his cousin,” said the other Undyne. “They’re trying to find out the perfect scientific strategy to playing Thundersnail so they can play it with the human later.”

For a house that supposedly belonged to Undyne, it was rather cozy. It was well kept, with only a table full of tea pots and cups a sign that it had been used at all. The piano continued to play itself, two mechanical hands reaching around to hit the keys.

“Now then, let’s start with your warrior training!”

It’s the Greater Dog.

Sure, with the suit of armor, the Greater Dog towered over Coraline and was nearly double her width. Without it, however, it was just a dog. Dogs were easy to handle, Coraline realized.

“Come here boy!” She beckoned.

The Greater Dog raced towards her, flicking slobber into her face. Coraline reached down to make a snowball. She tossed it as far as she could. It splattered on the ground. The Greater Dog responded by bringing all of the snow he could catch in his mouth and bringing it to her.

Now dog is tired…the Greater Dog jumped from its armor and rested its head on her. Coraline reached out to pet it. Unlike the other dogs, the Greater Dog relaxed under Coraline’s hand, and sunk its weight into her. It fired a few magic bullets into the air as it flopped on its back.

The Greater Dog is contented. It jumped back to its feet and gave Coraline a long lick across her face before jumping back into its armor. It walked away, its tail sticking out through the headhole.

It took Coraline a minute to stop laughing. As she did, she saw what lay ahead. A small town, visible only through house lights, connected to her with a bridge. Awaiting on the other side were two familiar skeletons.

“BEHOLD, HUMAN!” said Papyrus. “THE GAUNTLET OF DEADLY TERROR!”

A series of traps suddenly surrounded Coraline as the gauntlet activated.

“WHEN I SAY THE WORD,” said Papyrus “IT WILL FULLY ACTIVATE!!! CANNONS WILL FIRE! SPIKES WILL SWING! BLADES WILL SLICE! EACH PART WILL SWING VIOLENTLY UP AND DOWN!”

“What will the dog do?” Coraline asked.

“YOU KNOW??  I’M NOT SURE! !” said Papyrus. “BUT ONLY THE TINIEST CHANCE OF VICTORY WILL REMAIN!! NOW BRACE YOURSELF HUMAN!!! BECAUSE I!”

Coraline looked around wildly for anything she could use to save herself. Even sans looked like he wasn’t sure what to do. Perhaps she could grab onto the other side of the bridge and swing to safety…

“AM! ABOUT!”

But if she did that, she would have to scale the rest of the mountain…

“TO DO IT!”

Nothing happened.

“well?” asked sans. “what’s the holdup?”

“HOLDUP!? WHAT HOLDUP!? I’M…”

Papyrus looked unsure.

“WELL, IT SEEMS THIS CHALLENGE MAY BE TOO EASY TO DEFEAT THE HUMAN WITH,” said Papyrus. “YEAH!!! I AM A SKELETON WITH VERY HIGH STANDARDS, AND MY PUZZLES ARE ALWAYS EXPERTLY COOKED! THIS ONE SIMPLY WON’T DO!”

The Gauntlet of Deadly Terror was removed.

“WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT?” Papyrus asked. “ANOTHER DECISIVE VICTORY FOR PAPYRUS! NYEH! HEH! …Heh?”

He was gone before Coraline could ask any more questions.

Undye’s cooking, surprisingly, turned out to be edible. In fact, much like everything Frisk had found in the otherworld, it was the most delicious thing they had ever tasted. What made it even better was that Frisk got to make it themselves. Undyne had been surprisingly patient with teaching them how to cook. Though her method involved throwing a lot of spears, far less things caught on fire than Frisk had anticipated.

The other sans lead them back to the Snowdin area, where the snow had grown so high that the other sans had to pick them up so they wouldn’t sink right through. He helped carry them up one of the taller snow poffs, where the Other Papyrus awaited with his racecar bed.

“SO THE HUMAN ARRIVES,” said the other Papyrus. “ARE YOU READY FOR YOUR TOTALLY COOL TOUR PRESENTED BY YOURS TRULY?”

Frisk jumped in the bed as fast as they could. The bed shook under the added weight, and dipped down the hill.

The wind kicked up around Frisk’s face as the racecar bed cruised down the hillside. The bed jumped into the air after hitting a snow poff, and a sail mechanism sprung up by their feet to keep the bed hovering. They sailed over luminescent flowers and tranquil waters of the Waterfall. They sailed over the lava pools in the Hotlands and the mechanics of the Core. The racecar kept sailing.

Frisk’s interested piqued. They had never seen what lay beyond the hallways connecting Hotlands to New Home. They could make out a few buildings against the backdrop and the golden tiles of the Judgement Hall.

The sled fell, and there was nothing. The world that was began to fade away, as if someone had taken an eraser to a drawing. Gold floor panels faded into yellow flecks, and then into dots on a screen, and then nothing.

And Frisk was alone.

They called for help.

“Hush! And shush! Say nothing, for the Beldam may be listening…”

The fog grew deep. Coraline swallowed hard and fought through it. Even as her vision got covered in white, she could make something out in the distance.

Something blocks the way.

“HUMAN. ALLOW ME TO TELL YOU ABOUT SOME COMPLEX FEELINGS.”

Author’s Note:  Fun fact: I actually went through the trouble of marking all of sans’ and Papyrus’ dialogue in their respective fonts. The reason the other sans is weird is because he doesn’t speak in sans’ font. Obviously, it didn’t come through. I’m not even mad; I still hate comic sans with a passion.

[rosedamion113]

The Crew of the Peregrine: Chapter One

           Matthew Larkin had always had a fascination with the sky. When he was little, he loved to run to the open field down the road from his house, lay in the grass, and watch the clouds swirling above. Like most kids, his mind would wander and the clouds would take shape. He conjured brave heroes and magnificent creatures out of clumps in the sky. He told himself stories; he would sit there for hours doing nothing else but sending them into barren cities or creepy caverns to discover hidden crypts filled with great, unknown treasures.

           Occasionally, his parents worried that he wasn’t being active enough. He wasn’t making friends or doing all of the other things ‘normal’ kids are supposed to do. When his baby brother was born, they hoped that he might be a bit more outgoing, that he might help Matt straighten out. But Emerson was just like his brother. Matt had ten times as much fun creating adventures with a mind as creative as his own. Together, they moved beyond laying on the ground simply telling stories. They started to make swords out of twigs and go into the cities and caverns themselves. Matt always led the expedition, and Emerson was happy to follow so long as he was second in command of all their imaginary party members. Together, they’d venture into the unknown and face all sorts of horrible dangers, but they always made sure they got out of it without losing a single man. That was their motto from the start: Once you’re in, you don’t leave the team and the team never leaves you.

           Matt has never worked any other way.

 *          *          *

             He stood there, staring at the clouds below through the frosted window pane. He watched the engines whir and spin as they kept the ship aloft. Not for the first time, he marveled at the ability of a few pieces of spinning brass and a bit of steam to keep this hunk of metal airborne several thousand feet above the ground. Well, it’s a little more complicated than that, he could hear Emerson saying in the back of his mind. No doubt he’d be offended at the simplicity Matt was projecting onto a complex and delicate machine. He might have even pulled out a schematic just to prove his point. Or rant about the amount of hours he put into keeping the engine running so they don’t all crash into the earth.

           Matt meandered around the cockpit. He hopped up the stairs to the piloting console, adjusted the steering levers ever so slightly, checked his pocket watch and sighed before thumping down the other side and making his way to the starboard window. The window itself stretched around half of the room in a big semicircle, allowing the pilot to see a little more than 180 degrees of the surrounding sky space—Matt thought this to be one of the better benefits of this ship. It was more efficient, and the view was killer. He stopped at the glass and peered over the side to see the upside-down, backwards letters engraved in the hull: The Peregrine. Another aspect about this particular vessel that he was pleased with; the name had always suited him.

           Another fifteen minutes passed, during which he fiddled more with the controls and whistled a few songs, wandering aimlessly around the room until he finally stopped at the door and stared. For a moment he was silent.

“Okay, yeah, this is ridiculous”, he grumbled. He pushed it open and started making for the med-bay.

Immediately, he ran into John.

His head hit the floor. “Oh shit! Sorry!” he heard from a deep, friendly voice. He looked up at the giant in front of him. Matt wasn’t the biggest guy around, but that shouldn’t underscore the fact that John was about three times his size. And about half as threatening. In fact, he was kind of a teddy bear, and it showed as he eased Matt up off the ground, still apologizing. “I’m so sorry, Matt! I didn’t see you—”

“It’s fine, I’m fine, we’re good,” Matt stammered, trying to regain some composure as he stood up, his head pounding.

“I’m so sorry, man!” John said again. “I was just coming up to tell you that Jo might be awhile.”

“She’s been down there for half an hour!”

“Well, Lavinia doesn’t want to risk her getting infected.” Matt sighed. Lavinia was a good doctor, but sometimes she forgot that the crew had their own jobs to do.

“Look, just take over the helm for a little while, I’ll handle it. Some of us have better things to do than fill in for others,” He muttered as he started off down the hall.

John scrunched his eyebrows and turned after him. “By ‘better things’, are you talking about taking a nap in your quarters?”

“I’m talking about completing official Captain’s business.”

“Sleep well, dude.”

“Captain,” Matt reminded him from down the hall.

“Uh-huh,” John replied as he shut the door.

Matt made his way into the med bay, where Jo sat on the exam table and squinted as Lavinia dabbed a cloth over the cut on her hand.

“…and I know it’s not always your first concern but Sweetie, you should take a little more care.”

“Well, that would be a lot easier,” Jo replied, looking pointedly at Matt as he came through the door, “if somebody would do a once-over of this death-trap every so often. You know, so that they don’t lose a perfectly good pilot because of a tetanus-infested, loose screw.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, I keep the place in perfect condition,” Matt said with mock offense.

Jo was not amused. “No, you’re brother does. Kate does. You, not so much.”

Lavinia pulled out of strip of clean cloth and wrapped it around the wound. “All better!” she announced with a twinkle in her voice. “Just stop by later on your way to bed so I can change the bandage.” Jo hopped off the table and made her way past Matt, thanking Lavinia as she headed out the door. “Oh, and be careful to—” Lavinia started.

“I think she can survive a scratch,” Matt interrupted. “A scratch that most doctors, by the way, can treat in five minutes.”

“We were just catching up a bit. She’s up at the console all day so I don’t get to see her much.”

“Well, first of all, that’s her job, especially during a 32-hour non-stop flight. And second, what could you possibly have to catch up on if she’s been up there all day?”

“Just personal things.”

“Did you have news about her sister?”

“I told you, Matthew, personal.”

“My crew, my problem. ‘Personal’ includes me if it could affect their performance.”

“You don’t need to worry. I just had an update. Nothing’s changed.”

“Not really an update but, that’s…good, I guess.”

“Well, it’s not worse, so that’s something.”

Lavinia went around the room, straightening the tables up—which was pointless considering she kept everything close to godliness in the first place. Matt stood there for a moment watching her. She always cleaned when she was anxious, when there was a patient she knew she couldn’t help.

Suddenly, a loud blast came from downstairs and the ship shuddered. Matt and Lavinia grabbed onto the nearest table and braced themselves, but the shuddering placated. Matt ran out the door, and headed for the end of the hall. He slid down the ladder and turned around to find Kate and Emerson shouting at each other while simultaneously trying to put out the flaming coals scattered around the room.

“See?! I told you that much fuel would overheat the furnace! You can’t add more coal to the engine if you don’t compensate by adding more of the cooling agent and reducing the flames!” Emerson screeched as he stamped out the embers around him.

“Oh, don’t you ‘see’ me! I told you to add the cooling agent right before I threw in the fuel! It would have been fine if you were paying attention!” Kate yelled back.

“Well excuuuuuse me for making sure we don’t drop several thousand miles before drowning in the Atlantic!”

“We would die from impact before we had a chance to drown, moron.”

“I was being hyperbolic—”

“I’m just trying to get us there faster! You’re the one who’s been stressing about meeting the deadline!”

“Whoa, whoa, hey! Guys! What the hell is wrong?” Matt asked, cutting them off.

“He is!”

“She is!”

“Matt, tell your brother to keep his head out of the damn clouds and the ship in them.”

“What do you think I was trying to do?” Emerson retorted.

“First of all, it’s ‘Captain’. Secondly, is there anything we need to worry about? Anything that needs to be replaced or that will keep us from arriving in London in seven hours?” Matt asked, checking his watch.

Emerson sent one final glare to Kate before kneeling down and checking the mechanism underneath the furnace. “Yep, we’re gonna need a new ignition system. The blast damaged it.”

“Which also means that once we land, we can’t get back up in the air until we replace it,” Kate added.

“How much is that gonna cost us?” Matt asked.

“Three, maybe four hundred silver,” Emerson replied as he stood up, trying to wipe the grease off his face.

“Three to four hundred—! Are you serious?”

“If we want a functional one, yeah.”

“That’s almost half of what we’re making for this job!”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t sign us up for jobs that pay jack squat,” Kate commented from the other side of the room, tightening the bolts on the pistons.

“Not helping.” Matt turned back to Emerson. “We can’t afford one of these and still pay all of the crew their share. Even if we cut out ours.”

“For the record, I’m not taking a pay cut for this,” Kate interjected again.

“Still not helping, Kate!”

“This is your fault!” Emerson started to rile up again, “This whole thing wouldn’t have happened if you had just double-checked with me before—”

           “Emerson! Let it go for a second!” Matt grabbed his brother’s shoulder and got his attention. “You’re telling me we don’t have the money to fix the part, but we can’t make more money until we do? Come on, man, give me another option.”

           “I don’t know what to tell you. We need the new part, or else we can’t fly.”

           Matt sighed and ran his hands through his hair. “We’re going to have to find work in town. Or else make a trade. Maybe we can scrounge up some spare parts lying around and see what we can get for them. In the meantime, keep this rig in the air and try not to use each other as fuel.”

           “That’s ridiculous, our bodies wouldn’t produce nearly enough heat to keep us aloft.”

           “Kate, would you just—”

           “She’s right,” Emerson acknowledged, “But maybe we should look into other sources of fuel.”

           Kate perked up. “Like what?”

           “Something that burns hotter and longer. We should do some tests when we land,” Emerson suggested, walking over to the papers and blueprints piled on the table in the corner. He began making some notes.

           “Yeah!” Kate hurried over and looked over his shoulder. “You know I bet we could find some cheap things in the marketplace to try out. See if we can lower our expenses on fuel.”

           As they continued to mull over their idea, Matt made his way up the ladder and headed for his room, shaking his head as he wondered what in the world had possessed him to hire this crew.

[imsonotanartist]

X Men First Class Fic Upload

Disclaimer: I do not own the X Men franchise nor any Marvel or Fox characters, only my original characters. This will not be uploaded in order or in final draft form, but I am happy to have feedback. Here's what I've been working on so far. It's a rough idea of one of the chapters I want to include. I think I have an idea of what kind of story I want to write. This was kinda me getting the juices flowing. I may finish this up before I get started on another part of the story. Farmhouse Havshee scene (Alex and Sean) Sean decided to explore a little more of Alex's farmhouse and maybe learn a bit more about his friend and why he never mentioned the place before. The fact that he was bored out of his mind with being cooped up in one of the guest rooms and was sick of staring at the same four walls for the past four hours certainly didn't help curb his curiosity. Screw doctors orders, his side felt fine and it wouldn't be the first time he climbed out of a window a little busted up. He shuddered at some of the memories that thought brought on. He knew there were those that had gotten it much worse, growing up in the system, and despite a few traumatic experiences he had had it relatively easy compared to most. But the memories of those few experiences still shook him sometimes. He cleared his head as he got up out of bed and walked over to the window, reminding himself that he was in his twenties now and he was moving on with his life. It hadn't all been bad, anyways. He had always been there for the other kids, and always helped out the workers that were genuinely just trying to do their best for all the kids. As he opened the window to gauge the distance between him and the ground, he remembered the first time he ever climbed out of a window before. That time hadn't been to get away from anything, but to try and get to someone. Or more specifically, catch someone. This one kid had thought it would be a good idea to try and see the Fourth of July fireworks from the roof of the house him, Sean, and a handful of other kids were staying at at the time. It took two hours to coax the kid to lower himself over the edge of the roof to the attic window ,a foot below, where Sean's arms were waiting to catch him while the only worker watching them at the time held onto Sean's waist so he didn't fall out the window. At the time, Sean was the oldest and biggest and he could carry the weight of the little kid, so that was why the worker had him help instead of calling the fire department. Looking back, he realized that the worker would have been in a lot of trouble if the kid was found on the roof during her shift and that the kid would have been labeled as a trouble maker and sent to a tougher home than that one. He was glad he had been there to keep either of those things from happening. It wasn't the worker’s fault that she had been given no help that day and too many kids to look after. She really had tried her best and cared that they had had a good holiday. Sean had liked her a lot and tried to always give her a hand during the time he had stayed at that particular home. Sean's walk down memory lane ended once he had finished tying the last of the bed-sheets he'd need to safely make it far enough to the ground below. It wouldn't hurt him any to drop down the last three feet or so. At least he hoped it wouldn't. His side may not be severely injured, but it was pretty sore, nonetheless. Still, it would be either risk it or stay lying in bed for however long Hank decided he needed to stay bedridden. Sean decided he was not going to stare at that ceiling any longer. He tied one end of his makeshift rope to the sturdy, old wooden bedpost, confident that it could hold his weight, and started scaling down the side of the farmhouse. His side definitely killed him by the time he dropped down to the ground but being able to look at something other his room made the aching worth it.He spotted and old barn off in the distance, just before the treeline, and decided to check it out. The fresh air of the outside left him with a mixture of calm and excitement at the same time. Sean was eager to explore his new surroundings, but before he could walk too far though, a familiar voice decided to appear in his head again. "You know I prefer using the front door to go out for an midday stroll, but I guess that's just me. Getting bed rest after an injury must just be a singular habit of mine as well." "Oh, come on, Professor X. I can't stay cooped up in that room anymore and if Hank saw me leaving he'd pick me up and drag me back to my bed himself." ,Sean told the telepath in a somewhat pleading tone. Was it just him, or did the man's English accent sound even stronger over telepathy? Or maybe it was just when he was using sarcasm, that would make more sense. "He would drag you back because he is a doctor and actually knows a thing or two about the proper care for injuries. Hank isn't telling you to rest for his own amusement, Sean. He's doing it because its what your body needs. After that run in with Shaw's new recruits, or whoever they were working for, we could all use a little rest." ,Charles informed Sean, sounding very much like the mentor his team had come to see him as over the past few weeks. Even Erik, for all his go it alone attitude, seemed to listen more intently or more readily snap to attention whenever the professor took on the same tone he was now using with Sean. Sean also noticed how much more comfortable the professor seemed to be getting to the new role placed on him. It was as if he was always meant to become some kind of leader or teacher. While Sean had come to admire and trust the man, he was now just getting irritated by him. "The rest of you guys may want to lay around and catch your breath but I have to have something to do to relax. Or at the very least have something to entertain me, and since I doubt the TV gets a good signal all the way out here, then I'm gonna have to settle for exploring our little Havok's secret farm. Who knows, maybe I'll find a spaceship in a storm cellar and it'll turn out he was an alien this whole time? Or I'll just get tetanus on a rusty nail. It's an adventure, anything goes. See ya, Professor. Mind giving me a little privacy for a couple hours?" ,Sean asked, tapping the side of his temple, knowing the professor would understand. "Fine, Sean. I won't stop you, it's your choice. But I will be keeping an eye on your location and if anyone asks about you I will tell them exactly where you are. Please don't snoop around too much. Alex probably hasn't brought up much about his past for a reason and it's not our right to know every detail. After everything this team has been through, we’ve all earned each others trust. He's putting this place in some danger by letting us stay here ,as well, so show him a little respect for that." ,Charles replied, worried the curious mutant might do something to put Alex's home, and the team, in more of a precarious situation than they were already in. Sean was no fool, he was quite quick witted and ,in fact, very resourceful. Not to mention, much smarter than he gave himself credit for. But mistakes happen to even the best of us and Charles didn't want Sean to have to carry the weight of responsibility if their new enemy found them while their guard was down due to some misguided error on his part. Or the guilt if he somehow broke the surprisingly close bond that Sean and Alex had formed with each other over past few weeks by finding something personal of Alex's that he had wanted to remain private. Charles knew Sean meant no harm and he wasn't about about to pick the locks of any safes he came across or look through anything that really did seem private. The jokester truly did see Alex as a friend and Charles could sense that he understood the need to keep some things private, even from a friend. Sean just wanted something to occupy his mind for a time. But Alex had been on edge ever sense he mentioned the farmhouse to the team while they where looking for a safehouse. Charles knew the still somewhat young mutant was prone to stressing about certain things and was a bit confrontational whenever something would trigger one of his moods. The professor was worried that if Alex caught Sean wandering about and looking through things, the young man may not see Sean's intentions as innocent as Charles knew them to be. It truly would be a shame for two get in a fight over a misunderstanding but sometimes certain things cannot be helped. All the professor could do is wait and see what happens and try to put out any fires that may or may not arise. Literally and figuratively. Sean strolled over to the barn he saw, grateful that his was the only window on that corner of the house. He was starting to like the fact that he had wound up with the room on the extension. At first, not being able to hear everyone close by made staying in bed so much more boring, but it did afford him to pull stunts like this with only the professor being the wiser. He also hadn’t missed that odd note in Alex’s voice when the guy had said the extension must be new because it hadn't been there the last time he was here. While he knew things like Alex’s favorite movies and food, how he reacts to danger, his abilities, and a few humorous stories he told Sean once when they had shared a couple beers in the mansions library, he had to admit there was still a lot he didn’t know about the guy. Raven and Hank were open books. They loved talking about their past and and their goals and hopes for the future and what they liked and what they didn’t. Charles was talkative too but he was open in a different way. You knew there was probably stuff he wasn’t telling you, but you got the sense it was more for you than for him. As though he was challenging you to figure it out and was sure you’d succeed. It fit him, really. Always the mentor. Erik was, well, Erik. He was basically a category all his own, in completely different way than the professor was. Honestly, Sean got a bad feeling from the guy. He reminded him of some of the kids he’d met that had gotten hit one too many times and now just wanted to hit back, no matter who was in front of them. It was always sad, but you knew to keep your distance. But Alex was different. He wasn’t an open book in the least. He wasn’t really closed off either, at least by Sean’s standards. Sean had met people like Alex before, in the various foster homes and orphanages he had seen in his time. They always had had something pretty bad happen to them or someone they cared about and more often than not either believed that they didn’t deserve anyone’s time and sympathy, or they believed that talking about it wouldn’t solve anything so they just didn’t talk. Sometimes it would be both, those where the toughest and ,in Sean’s opinion, some of the most heartbreaking cases. He wasn’t naive enough not to know some of it was pride too. But he had also seen enough to know that it didn’t always start out as a case of pride, and he doubted that was the case for Alex, too. Sean knew that the only things that got people like that to open up and try to fix whatever it was that got broken was stability and safety. It’s the same whether the person is a scared ten year old kid, or a wary twenty-something adult. They need a family and to know that that family is gonna stick around when the going gets tough. That takes a hell of a lot more time than a few weeks to set up, and Sean was more than willing to not push the guy until he had had more time. Alex was a good guy, and Sean’s gut told him he could definitely trust him. So, Sean didn’t mind it if he happened to be the one to be there when the guy decided to open up completely. Sean himself was still testing the waters before he really got too comfortable. There was a lot he hadn’t shared with the team and he needed more time as well before he did share. He got the sense that despite maybe having different pasts, there were some things that him and Alex had in common that was more than just favorite movies. Which was why, despite his curiosity at the new environment he was in, Sean didn’t really snoop too much. He mainly just wandered around, enjoying the warm breeze and knee high grass as he made his way closer to the barn. He figured that Charles knew he wasn’t really too keen on digging up anything about Alex’s past which was why the professor didn’t really fight Sean too hard about him going out and strolling around. Sean thought it might be cool to look at some of the farm equipment or see if they had a hay loft that he always heard about barns having. He mainly just wanted to be out of his room. He didn’t think Alex would mind too much as long as he explained his intentions if his buddy caught him in the barn. Sean walked into the barn and looked around for a hay loft, whatever that looked like. He figured on the way there that he would know one if he saw one, but was quickly realizing that might not be the case in the slightest. He was in the middle of wondering if Alex would mind him asking about if there was hay loft or not and what one looked like when he heard footsteps coming up to the barn. Footsteps he didn’t recognize. Oh shit! Sean mentally exclaimed, scrambling for a hiding place while the footsteps got closer. He had just ducked behind some rusty tractor-looking thing when the door to the barn opened. “’Try practicing more at home, Scott. I’m sure a neighbor could show you how the get hang of this, Scott.’ Yeah, right. What part of I live in the middle of nowhere doesn’t that stupid coach get?”, came a voice from the doorway that sounded surprisingly like a disgruntled little kid, mocking someone else. What the heck is a little kid doing out here? Alex didn’t mention anything about him showing up any time soon, and I don’t think he’s ever mentioned a ‘Scott’ before, either. Sean wondered whether or not he should warn the professor, and then figured he would probably know already and what was the point of worrying about a little kid? It’s not like a child was really a threat or anything, and Sean was more than a little curious as to who he was and why he was here. Since this place was Alex’s (supposedly), he figured some how mentioning he was a buddy of Alex’s was a good way to reveal himself without giving the kid too much of a fright. He knew he’d more than likely make the kid jump since the little guy thought he was alone, but Sean mainly just didn’t want him running for the hills when he surprised the kid. After all the nightmares he’d helped soothe in his time, Sean had developed a knack for knowing how to calm a spooked kid. He just hoped his gift wouldn’t fail him now. “Hey, is that a fellow buddy of Alex’s I hear over there? Dude’s got one heck of a place but unfortunately I’m starting to find myself unable to fully appreciate it until someone tells me what a hay loft looks like.” Sean called out, as he stood up and slowly moved out from behind the old farm equipment. He had his friendliest smile on and tried his best to look as least threatening to the kid as possible, putting his hands in his pockets and casually leaning against the equipment he had just a second ago been using as a hiding place. Just as Sean predicted, the kid did jump at the mutant’s voice and eyed the new presence in the barn warily. Sean could see him mentally deciding if it was a good idea to respond or not. After a second or two of tense silence on the munchkin’s part, Sean started wondering if he should give up and go or not before he really did scare the little guy, when the kid in question spoke up, “You know my brother?” ,he asked Sean, still looking like he didn’t completely trust his brother’s new supposed friend. So, Alex has a little brother? That’s definitely something he never mentioned before. Better not tell the kid that though, can’t see that ending all too well. Sean mused as he looked the kid over. He figured he couldn’t be older than seven or eight, and now that he was aware of their relation, he definitely saw a resemblance to Alex. Despite the brown hair and and rounder features, Alex and the kid had the same eyes and made the same kind of expressions. It was almost like talking to a mini Alex, in a way. “Yeah, me and Alex started working together a few weeks ago. Your name must be Scott, right?” Sean asked the kid. “Yeah, I guess you heard me before, huh?” Scott replied, looking a bit miffed and embarrassed at the same time. “Sorry, didn’t mean to hide from you. I wasn’t sure who you were and to be honest you kind of startled me when I heard you walking up. That coach you were mentioning doesn’t seem to know how to teach a kid very well. I had a few coaches like that growing up. Never did like ‘em too much. Only one really seemed to care that we had fun. She was cool. I wasn’t the only one in that class that liked her. What sport are you playing?” Sean asked, trying to keep a friendly conversation. The kid seemed to be watching him closely, probably sizing the lanky, red head up. But whatever Scott saw in Sean seemed to reassure him because the wariness in his voice from before had almost evaporated when he spoke next. “I play soccer and I can’t figure out how to kick the ball down the field without tripping over it. That’s what the coach has been trying to teach me, but I don’t understand a lot of the stuff he says. I think he got tired of me today and just gave up. All of the other kids get it so I guess I’ll just stay on the bench from now on.” Scott lamented to Sean, looking downtrodden. Poor kid. I wonder if Alex would care if I helped him out? Considering the guy didn’t even mention he had a little brother it’s probably not a good idea in the least..but…oh c’mon the little guy looks a freaking puppy that just got kicked. How can I not? Sean thought. The kid could use a break and Alex needed to learn to set more ground rules if he doesn’t want stuff like this happening, anyways. “Hey, Scott, tell you what? I played a good amount of soccer growing up and I taught a few kids how to play too. I bet I could explain some stuff to you better than that coach of yours, as well. If you got a place where we could practice, I could use a game or two. To be honest, I was pretty bored before you showed up and you’d really be doing me a favor. What do you say, buddy? Sound like a good idea?” Sean offered to Scott. The kid’s eyes lit up and all traces of suspicion vanished at Sean’s offer. “Wait, really? You’d practice with me?” Scott asked Sean. Sean gave Scott a smile and nodded his head yes. He mentally thought the kid was little too trusting of strangers, but he definitely wasn’t going to mention that right now. “Yes! There’s a spot over on the other side of the barn there and I use the trees and the wall as goals. I’ve got them marked, I’ll show you!” Scott excitedly informed his new instructor as he ran out the barn door. Sean just chuckled and shook his head as he jogged after his new compatriot. So, this is what Professor X feels like all the time. Sean could see why the telepath always got excited before training. Alex had been pacing out on the back porch for the past half hour. He had gone up to check on Sean and bring him a plate of the dinner the doc and Raven had whipped up for the team. That was when he saw the knotted sheet tied to the end of the bedpost and where it led. Alex was still stunned that the red head had climbed out the window with his side injured like that. Normally he wouldn’t care and he may have even laughed at the stunt. But today was an exception and Alex felt more like punching the dumb ass. But then again it wasn’t really Sean’s fault, Alex had felt like punching something since they had pulled in the driveway. This place just brought back too much pain and too many bittersweet memories. Not to mention, Alex had no idea what he was going to say once his aunt and little brother came home and found Alex and his team camped out in the living room. His aunt hadn’t believed Alex about his powers when he tried to explain them to her for the first time, and they were so volatile he didn’t dare risk actually showing them to her. That day was also the first and last time she had ever picked up Scott from him to take him to the farmhouse. After that, he never saw Scott again. He’d get letters now and then from his aunt and little brother, but the prison that he was incarcerated in was too far from the farm to make regular visits too, and Alex didn’t want Scott to see him like that anyways. Scott had already seen what Alex was capable of once before, he didn’t want to give a baby brother another reason to be afraid of him Memories of the night Alex’s powers first emerged flashed in his mind, momentarily. He pushed them to the side, not wanting to remember all the details. Scott may have seen what had happened that night, but who knows if their Aunt Therese hadn’t convinced him the part about Alex’s abilities was his imagination by now? Alex harbored no bad feeling towards his aunt for not believing him. She had always believed him about the fire his powers had caused being an accident. She never once thought he was a criminal, only that he was just a confused kid in over his head. The more Alex thought about his circumstances, the more he started to think his aunt had been onto something. The consequences of some of the choices he made his life made him question once before whether or not he was fit to be given a second chance. But after his first encounter with Shaw and his crew, he realized that the fallout from his youthful bad decisions was nothing compared to what those real monsters where truly capable of. Alex was definitely in over his head when it came to them. Especially since his team had had their asses handed to them once before by said crew and now it was being handed to them by those black ops looking guys that had been at the site. Just when they had gotten to where they could hold their own against Shaw’s team, they get a new enemy they have to figure out how to beat. It didn’t help matters that Agent McTaggart still couldn’t seem to get a lead on who those guys where or what group they were working for, or even if they were working for a group at all. But considering Shaw’s team didn’t seem to have problem with practically trying to kill those guys over the documents, and seemed to be given the same amount of consideration by their combatants in return, Alex doubted that the two groups were working together. Alex stopped pacing for a moment and looked out over the evening sky. The sun was only just beginning to set and the bright blue from before was now starting to be tinged with purple and orange. When Alex’s family had lived closer to Aunt Theresa he would often stay over at the farmhouse on weekends or school breaks. He remembered always looking forward to seeing the sunset out here. Scott had been born after Alex and his parents had already moved into their big house upstate, so the youngest Summer had never seen the farmhouse before Aunt Theresa took him in. A part of Alex was glad that Scott got a chance to enjoy this old place. He would always wish it was under better circumstances, though. Still, the farm was perfect for a growing kid, especially one as energetic as Alex remembered his little brother being. It had been three years since Alex had been put in jail. He wondered how much Scott had grown in that time. How much much his baby brother had changed and how much he hadn’t. Alex started to feel his chest tighten with emotion and went back to pacing. He focused instead on something that wouldn’t make him so emotional and went back to trying to calculate how much trouble Sean could cause for the team while he was wandering about. Charles had told Alex not to worry and that he was monitoring Sean’s location while he was out of the house after Alex had burst in the professors room explaining what he had found and asking where the red headed mutant had gone. Charles then informed Alex that Sean was spending most of his walking time in the area around the barn and he didn’t seem in too much of a hurry to go anywhere else really. Alex knew there wasn’t much Sean could do to reveal their location to their enemies. Aside from hitching a ride on the highway to the nearest small town a few miles out in each direction and then trying to find at least one working payphone to call up the two groups of bad guys, there wasn’t really anything Sean could do to make the farmhouse any less off the radar. But that still didn’t make Alex worry any less. Alex couldn’t deny that over the past few weeks he had gotten to know Sean more than anyone else on the team. The guy liked to pull pranks, slack off now and then, and could be one hell of a smart ass, sure. Normally, Alex didn’t have any patience when it came to guys like that. But Sean never seemed to feel the need to play the class clown role 24/7, even though he usually did anyways . Whenever he did cross a line or a serious topic or conversation came up, he was as considerate and somber as the rest. Sometimes he even grasped harder to swallow concepts better than most of the team. But mainly, him and Alex had just clicked. Alex couldn’t help it, he still wasn’t sure what it was, but he had found something he liked in the guy. Sean was actually pretty good company when you gave the joker a chance. The two of them had spent a more than a couple of nights over the past few weeks sharing beers and talking about random topics the pair had shared interests in. They had more in common than Alex believed either of them had originally thought they would, and he really did see himself considering Sean a close friend one day, if all of this went well. Alex sighed and decided to go find the guy after all. It wasn’t to make sure his compatriot didn’t get into trouble, he actually thought Sean’s easygoing nature might calm some of the blond mutant’s nerves down some. Alex had to admit, Sean had a way of either riling someone up or helping them relax depending on whatever reaction the jokester wanted to get. He had been pretty good at helping Alex to relax in the past and figured giving the guy a tour of the farm was a good way to pass the time for the both of them. Alex hopped down the stairs leading to the back porch and made his way over to old barn he used to play hide and seek in whenever his childhood friends would stay over with him. Alex remembered his mother mentioning once that Aunt Theresa couldn’t have kids of her own and how happy it would make her whenever she got to look after Alex and his friends. He remembered that being the reason his mother found it so difficult to decide to move upstate, despite his fathers work moving there. Alex found it a shame that his aunt couldn’t have a family of her own. He knew she would have made a wonderful mother. He was glad her and Scott had each other after what had happened. He knew Aunt Theresa would always look after himself and Scott like the pair were her own. The warm breeze from earlier in the day had cooled down a bit and Alex held his arms a bit closer to his side as he got closer to the barn. As he kept walking he started to hear laughter and cheering. Alex jogged over to the source of the sound on the other side of the barn to find his little brother and Sean playing with a soccer ball together. Scott was having difficulty with the ball and Alex could hear Sean giving him pointers and watched older boy stop every now and then the show Scott where it would be best to put his feet in certain circumstances. When the heck had his little brother gotten home and why was Sean teaching him how to kick a soccer ball? Alex was starting to get frustrated until he caught the smile on Scott’s face. After three years of not seeing his baby brother’s smile it hit Alex like a ton of bricks and left him misty eyed. The emotional elder brother staggered back a few steps behind the side of the barn, out of Sean and Scott’s line of sight. As Alex tried calm the tightness in his chest he heard Sean yell out, “Alright, little man, you got it! Keep running, you can do it! Keep it up buddy!” Scott let out an excited yell and Alex peered over the corner to see the cause. He saw Scott kicking the soccer ball down the field towards the makeshift goal with a look of pure joy and pride on his face. Alex suddenly felt very grateful to Sean for giving him this moment to see Scott carefree and happy. After his years in prison, worrying about his brother’s well being and happiness, for this to be Alex’s first sight of Scott after all that time made all the pent up worry and stress melt away. All he wanted now was to watch his baby brother laugh and have fun and enjoy being a kid. He looked up at Sean the same time the red haired mutant noticed Alex’s presence. As they locked eyes, Alex put his index finger to his lips, telling the other young man to not not reveal the elder brother’s presence. Sean gave him a confused look but nodded anyways and went back to yelling encouragements at Scott while the young boy kicked the ball towards his new coach. Alex stayed there for awhile while the light slowly faded. He felt lighter than he had in a long time, watching his brother have fun. Sean had given Alex a few looks of confusion whenever Scott had his back to them, but after a bit his eyes started taking on a knowing look whenever he threw a glance towards the elder brother. Alex ignored him, too focused on enjoying the carefree moment while it lasted.

[ljbarks]

Julien Baker, My Father, Two Decades of Noise, and the Quiet

Soda guns make a funny noise. Like a dozen dentists doing work all at once, some suction and a strange gurgle.

Usually, it’s also a noise that happens nonchalantly, especially in a place like this, the gurgle drowned out by the din and dissonance of the band and the crowd and the night.

Right now though, a couple songs into Julien Baker’s set at White Eagle Hall, the soda gun — and the cracking of a fresh beer, the opening and closing of the standard-issue industrial doors at the back of the room, everything — have become some kind of strange and unwelcome accompaniment, dropping in at all the wrong moments, a laugh-track mistakenly placed over A Very Special Episode.

This, of course, is partially my fault. I’m perpetually late and the kind of short where I’ve had to turn my annoyance at the dozens of phones shooting video that’s never gonna be revisited into an argument for how useful all those glowing screens are as periscopes. Too anxious to push my way to the front under some false “I’m looking for my friends” pretense, because I know my friends are not up there because they’re all at home because it’s Tuesday and we’re in our mid-thirties. And then what happens when I get to up there? Then I’m awkwardly planted next to a person who’s not my friends, inserting myself into this stranger’s night like I just hatched from my pod and am enjoying my first moments in this human body, cumbersome and lumbering, exploring the thing the earthlings call music.

Instead, I don’t move from the spot on the floor that I’ve acquired simply by ordering a beer at the bar and then turning and taking only the amount of steps required to get out of the way of the next person. But the hypothetical awkwardness stays, permeating the room in some other way. As I, from my tippy-toes, and the other 799 people packed into White Eagle watch Baker take the stage, it’s to a strange kind of silence.

The first live music I ever saw that wasn’t my father playing the organ in our house — like the first thing that involved a band and instruments, and an in-hindsight surprising lack of any kind of adult supervision — was a punk show at the Rockaway American Legion.

It was 1997.

I was the kid who wore Nirvana shirts to school every single day. A girl in my first period biology class was passing out flyers.

“I think you like music, I don’t know.”

She tossed the thing on my desk. I was never cool to begin with, but in this moment she was infinitely cooler than me.

I convinced my best friend to come, and my father happily volunteered to drive us, depositing two fifteen year-olds in some random parking lot with only a vague idea about when to return to collect us.

This, that he was so willing to do this, volunteered to do it, was a confusing thing about my father. He was angry and strict, though only about the small and specific things. I never had a curfew, but food falling off your fork at dinner as you awkwardly tried to get this adult-sized utensil into your child-sized mouth would launch some kind of international incident. It always ended with slamming doors and crying and him storming out and me climbing up into the treehouse to write some other life in my head.

The flyer, because it was 1997, had a phone number to call “for directions or sex advice.” I blacked out that second part before I showed it to my parents, marching into our kitchen with this photocopied paper adorned with a giant hand-drawn, bug-eyed and bemowhawked creature with a safety pin through its tongue, the names of a bunch of bands they wouldn’t have known even if their entire record collection wasn’t The Kingston Trio, the soundtrack to The Big Chill and Donald Fagen.

I didn’t know the bands, either, really, but I knew I needed to go to this thing and see it. And so I also armed myself with an argument for why I should be allowed to go. Instead, I just got a “yes.” Simple. Too easy. My father, for all the other stuff, became his opposite self when it came to matters of music.

That November night in the American Legion, I found the thing I didn’t know I’d been looking for for all of the 15 years and four months of my life before it. My home, my people, my thing. My father came to pick us up at the end, and I surely got back in the car, tired and happy and smelling of cigarettes, but really, I never left.

Twenty-one years later that flyer hangs on the wall of my apartment.

Through the rest of my high school life, I’d check out the arts listings in the paper, picking out concerts and pulling out the phonebook so my parents could call Ticketmaster, using the money I’d made from working at the family business and then my job at the mall to finance these miniature adventures. And every time, my father would volunteer his services as driver, dutifully dropping us off somewhere in the middle of Manhattan so that we could enjoy a night with The Offspring.

Once I could drive, we’d spend weekends traversing the state following handwritten directions scribbled on a pick from the stack of flyers we’d been handed at the previous show. Living in all the wonder that comes with the kind of places willing to host an afternoon of complicated-looking kids too into something that was mostly dissonance and sometimes childhood music lessons repurposed into bad Bosstones knockoffs. Elks lodges, VFW halls, American Legions, firehouses, basements, the storefront of a diet food restaurant, high school gyms and random rooms in churches.

Then we’d take the train into the city and see the bigger touring bands that came through. Take a quarter for the payphone to call my mom from Penn and let her know the train didn’t derail on the way. Take the Midtown Direct from Dover for Pennywise, All and Strung Out in the city on Friday, drive to Asbury Park for Blink 182, Silverchair and Fenix TX on Sunday, go to school on Monday. Lars Frederiksen stealing my friend’s lighter outside a Dropkick Murphys show at the Wetlands. Smoking in the downstairs of Roseland as we browsed the tables of patches and buttons that lined the room. Summers with multiple Warped Tour dates, a car accident on the way to Asbury leaving the front passenger side door of my ’95 Golf in a permanent state of not closing right, our nostrils still filled with dust from Randall’s Island the day before.

Then, college, a degree I'd never get and mostly shitty jam bands in a small market city not on the way to anywhere. The other nights, more special. When Rainer Maria came to Higher Ground or AFI played at 242. River City Rebels with Catch 22 at a barn in rural Vermont or Bane in the middle of winter in some school gym. Kill Your Idols and Sworn Enemy and Agnostic Front and My Revenge and the show stopping to throw out some boneheads after they tried to rip a SHARP patch off a kid’s jacket. That night Death Cab played at UVM and someone from the band chased a kid who threw a disc golf disc onto the stage through the halls of whatever building that was. That same place where I saw Q and Not U and I think the only two times I was ever in that building. Our little NJ Scene expat crew, four people strong, watching some punk show on the second floor of the extra-strength hippie dorm.

Post-weird four year exile in Vermont, our little Jersey scene had shifted and died and grown up too much, but the city was still there. I’d learned by then never to take New York for granted. I went to shows.

So many.

Our Wilco/Ryan Adams cousins crew getting too drunk in Brooklyn bars and me as the only one over 21 buying bodega tallboys for everyone to drink from brown paper bags in Greeley Square. Getting lost in Macy’s and losing the car in midtown and getting actually lost on the way back from Camden. Perfect nights walking around Williamsburg and sunny Saturdays in Greenpoint and spending the night on Saint Marks after the War on Drugs got rained out. Happy hours at Matchless and tacos at that spot in Port Chester. The conversation before the Ty Segall show that started with me being excited for my friend and ended up with me on Uncle Einar’s first tour two months later. Too hyped after Run the Jewels and dropping my car key in a rest stop toilet because I hadn’t slept and went to see Rancid and Dropkick anyway. Too much whiskey and the side-effects of a tetanus shot and 13 staples in my leg and a Titus Andronicus show at Maxwell’s that I don’t remember. Getting a contact lens straight kicked out of my eye at that Vandals show at Irving Plaza. The lost weekend that was Punk Rock Bowling.

Plenty of solo trips, too, not wanting to miss what could be — because you never know — some band’s last time, and I’m not even going to bother trying to sell it to my friends. Sleater-Kinney five times in a week, the Piebald reunion, the sweatiest night ever when the AC broke at Webster Hall during the Bouncing Souls, and a fear of frostbite at Sonic Youth after putting a Chuck Taylor-clad foot into the depths of one of those curbside lakes the New York winter creates.

A thousand more that escape me now, but show me the ticket stub and I'll tell you the story.

The one constant is noise. There is always noise. The expected kind, of the band and the crowd cheering and singing along. And the annoying kind, of the full-on conversations everyone’s having as the band plays ten rows up, like the Bowery Ballroom is just an extension of their living room.

There is nothing better than a full-crowd singalong.

There is nothing worse than the people behind me at Sleater-Kinney’s first NYC show in nearly a decade having a full-on conversation — as the band was ripping through ‘Start Together’ or whatever — about an article one of them read about a Maraschino cherry factory that was illegally dumping whatever the byproducts of Maraschino cherry-making are into some Brooklyn waterway. It is a bonkers story that also involves a secret basement pot growing operation, but also, in the words of the great Sue Simmons, “the fuck are you doing?”

But both of those parts are also what make up the show. We’re in a room, simultaneously strangers and best friends. Together, doing a thing. That the gaps between songs are filled by this low mumble, that the band sometimes gets treated like nothing more than a backing track to an evening, because this is New York and we’re still too busy to even take this part out of our day to make it an actual part of our day.

There is some strange comfort in that noise, all of it, together.

This night, back at White Eagle, is different. It is silent. Starkly so. In an hour, I will be — we all will be — spit back out into New Jersey’s endless winter, down the steps and onto Newark Avenue, having learned no more about Maraschino cherries than we knew before we entered. I will hear nothing about who’s lunch Susan stole from the fridge at work today, or just how fucked up it was to get to Jersey from Ridgewood on a Tuesday night.

The only conversations I will hear are ones of faintly whispered commentary about how good this is. About “thank you for bringing me.” About “this is amazing.” And at first, it’s weird and jarring and uncomfortable, and every time another beer gets cracked at the bar the people all around me let out some barely audible groan, because for the first time at any show I’ve ever been to, we’re all sitting in that silence, and none of us know how to behave.

The show opens with ‘Over’ and ‘Appointments’ and no one even knows what to do when that’s over. Like, none of us know if we should even clap. Forever and ever, before and after this, the answer is obvious, but here, we’re all in some kind of silent agreement that there’s at least a question as to whether anything should pierce the quiet. Like we’d be as annoying as another person’s vodka soda order being fulfilled if we did.

Slowly, somewhere around the end of ‘Turn Out the Lights,’ we all agree to figure out if clapping is okay. Then light cheering. Eventually we’ve navigated it, all settled into a balance between the silence and the act of being at a show. Some of the people around me even risk a low singalong during parts of ‘Rejoice’ and that one part of ‘Everybody Does’, though the intermittent activity at the bar is still at least as loud.

And maybe, beyond the lack of talking, that’s why I’m so shaken and uncomfortable with this silence. Life is about noise, even in the background. A podcast, music, the TV I’m not watching. The fan that runs at night just so I can sleep. The silence outside my parents’ house makes me uneasy. I am home with sirens piercing the pre-dawn air. Stop the noise and the quiet can make things deafening in your head.

Shows are ringing ears and not knowing if you’re shouting at each other when you talk about how good it was on the way home. Why in some other social setting you’ll find me nodding in agreement even though I didn’t really hear what you just said. It is inherently about noise and sound taking over a room and taking everyone in that room with it.

Here, we’re trying to navigate that same journey with the quiet. Like turning up the volume on the car radio as you try to find your turn.      

The thing I know about Julien Baker, because maybe I read The New Yorker while I’m brushing my teeth, is that she came up in some kind of punk scene that I imagine was similar to, though at least a decade and many states removed, from the one I did. Sonically, her music, just a guitar and some loops and piano and the occasional string accompaniment, is miles away from the basements and VFW halls and Elks lodges where I spent my teenage years. But it’s familiar somehow, too.

Maybe it’s because she’s here, on Tuesday night that’s too cold for April, mostly alone on stage, with just her songs and a couple guitars, a pedal board, a piano, and someone sometimes popping up to play violin, and she’s gotten this entire crowd to stop, to be quiet and sit in this silence and in these songs and find solace or something like it, in it, in them, in this. And that? That’s about as loud, and as punk rock, a thing as you can do.