#so so angry at the amount of baxter that was lost

[wooshofficial]

Martyn makes his way back to Baxter after the end of the session, only for there to be ghosts at his house.

Not the good ghosts, either- he saw Jimmy and Lizzie chasing each other around the Secret Keeper earlier, and Mumbo hovering around Grian as he called time. No, these are the wrong ghosts.

Three people sit on Baxter, staring down at him with glances ranging from pity to mania. Martyn holds a staring contest with the three before someone speaks up:

“Oh man, the lone wolf makes it back home, everyone! How do you guys think he’s feeling right now?” The voice that pipes up comes from the ghost on the right. They’re not human—a mouse, maybe a rat?—and they’re wearing a maid dress, which isn’t the weirdest part of this whole situation.

“I don’t know,” says the left ghost, lounging on Baxter’s ear and jingling bells on their jester outfit with the movement, “probably…alone. Angry.”

Martyn scowls at the clown and rat, building his way up to be level with the ghosts. “Who the hell are you?! What are you doing at my house?”

He gets no direct response, because of course he doesn’t. Because of course the Watchers would try to drive him insane with ghosts commenting on his current mental state and him unable to give his two cents. Instead, the right ghost looks at the left, who has continued to spread out on Baxter and make some very annoying jingling sounds.

“Angry is a definite. Guilty, probably. Hating himself, absolutely.”

What? No. This is a death game, people are going to die. Martyn knows this. He doesn’t blame or hate himself, thank you very much! He opens his mouth to debate, but-

“Oh, be nice to him, Rat. He just lost his buddies!” The middle ghost finally speaks up, swinging her legs and staring directly at him. She’s got orange skin and what looks like an anchor strapped across her back, which Martyn is confused at- both the fact that it’s there and the fact that he knows what it is. “Remember how I felt up until what, two months ago? Because of you, might I add.”

“I told you Lux, I didn’t know he would get permakilled!”

“Still-“

“I apologized!”

“Would you please get back to talking about me while you’re sitting on my goddamn house?”Martyn says, still at eye level with the three frankly absurd ghosts arguing in front of him, once again to no response. Anchor ghost—Lux—leans over and slaps the right ghost—Rat—straight across the face, and this is where Martyn would stop paying attention to the nonsense, except Rat just pulled out a monstrous looking scythe; and Jester Ghost is scrambling across Baxter’s head to be at their side with a similar weapon in their hand, jingling the whole way there; and Martyn is now checking his wrist tattoo to make sure his between-session immunity is working so he doesn’t die from this.

“Rat!” Lux ghost shouts, looking over towards Martyn, pity still in their eyes, “you’re scaring him!”

“You slapped me!” They follow Lux’s gaze to double the amount of staring in Martyn’s general direction, and Jester Ghost follows suit, with a manic smile on top. Rat ghost puts the scythe away with a sigh. “We’re getting off track. Lone wolf over there is exactly what it says on the tin. Lux gets that feeling, and I don’t because I am basically god.”

Martyn chooses to ignore that. Lux ghost just rolls their eyes.

“But,” Rat says, and Martyn is now sure that these ghosts are simply choosing to ignore him because he’s suddenly locked in another stare off, “what I know-“

“We all know,” adds the clown-

“-is payback. Sweet, beautiful, over the top payback.”

Lux nods. “And he knows it too, doesn’t he?”

“Everyone on this server knows payback,” Martyn mutters, mostly to himself. “Even Scar knows payback. Damn good at it too.”

The jester makes a tsk sound towards him, and that’s when he knows that the ghosts are definitely pretending he’s not there, besides the whole all-three-of-them-are-staring-directly-at-him thing. “Ah-ah, but there’s a difference between how they do it and we do it. When they do it, it’s very…”

“Vanilla?” Lux ghost supplies.

“Boring?” Rat ghost drawls.

The jester ghost ponders a moment, that manic grin still on their painted face, before answering: “Simple. This server only knows simple payback. Us, on the other hand, we’re grand. Dramatic!”

Sure, like Martyn could be more dramatic than spawning three withers, or blowing himself up to kill someone else, or breaking a truce to go on a murder spree and win the game entirely. Like that’s even possible. Like the Watchers would allow that sort of thing on top of all the curses.

“So?” Martyn chides, about two seconds away from leaving and just moving bases entirely. “What do any of you have to do with this?!”

“So,” Rat says, and they have finally stopped ignoring him, “be like us, Martyn. Don’t just go to war, be the war.”

“Fight like nothing else matters.”

“And revel in the catharsis when it’s done.”

And then all three of them start laughing, filling the air with the sounds of bells and chaos and violence before disappearing in the blink of an eye. In their place, a single stick of TnT, with a note tied to it:

A pipe bomb for your troubles :)

Martyn throws it across the mesa, and promptly goes to sleep, deciding that even if lonely, he’s damn glad that he’s not whoever the hell those ghosts were.

[angelasscribbles]

Lavender and Crimson Chapter 20: Happily Ever After

Series: Lavender and Crimson

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Riley x Drake, Liam x Maxwell

Rating: MA

Warnings for this chapter: language

Word Count: 850

My other stuff: Master List.

Lord Nicholas Baxter was escorted by two members of the King’s Guard to stand before the king and answer for his crimes.

“Before you utter a word, be aware that we can prove it was you.”

“Liam…I’m sor-“

“You’ve lost all right to address me familiar, use my proper title.”

“Sorry, Your Majesty, I’m sorry. I never meant for the press to skew things the way they did. I was hurt and angry and not thinking clearly. I just wanted to make Riley have to admit what kind of person Drake is!”

“I don’t really care about your motives. I care about the havoc you wrought with all our lives. You’ve violated the NDA you signed, you understand that your moment of pettiness is going to cost you everything from a financial standpoint, right? Then there are the criminal charges…”

“I was hoping for mercy, Your Majesty.”

“And why would you imagine you deserve that?”

“We were friends, Li-Your Majesty! I’ve spent holidays with your family! Played with your children!”

“Ah, yes, my children. Like Princess Eleanor? The same child whose life you tried to destroy? The same child whose privacy you violated specifically to hurt her mother?”

“I….” He flushed with guilt. His eyes darted to Riley’s face then away again in shame.

“You will pay the full amount required by the NDA and you will serve two years in a jail cell for leaking classified information to the public.”

“Two years!? Please, Liam! I-“

“It’s either that or I just turn you over to Captain Walker and let him handle it however he sees fit.” Liam inclined his head in Drake’s direction.

Nick took in Drake’s stormy expression and paled.

“Right.” Liam motioned to the guards, “Take him away.”

One year later…….

“Liam, you look so handsome!” Riley said as she adjusted his tie.

“Are you sure?” He asked fidgeting with his sash, “Because I’m sweating like a  whore in church.”

“Liam!” She gasped in shock.

“What? I learned that saying from you!”

“I know,” she tittered, “but I never expected to hear you use it!”

“I’m just so nervous, look.” He held out his hands so she could see the shaking he was unable to control.

“You’re going to do great. What do you have to be nervous about? You and Max have been together for seven years, he loves you, you love him. What’s the problem?”                                               

“There’s no problem. This is just the most important day of my life. I’m marrying the love of my life.” He straightened his tie again and pulled at his collar.

“Liam. It’s going to be fine. I promise. Have you seen Ellie in her flower girl dress?”

He visibly relaxed, “Yes, she’s beautiful, like her mother. And Xander in his little suit…so freaking adorable. Children are such a blessing. Speaking of that, how are you feeling?”

Riley’s hand dropped to her midriff to cradle her baby bump. “Baby Walker is doing just fine. Now let’s go get you and Max hitched in the wedding of the century. I mean it, Liam, the cathedral is packed, the street outside the cathedral is packed, and there are news crews here from every country in the world!”

Liam’s second wedding had garnered far more world attention than his first one had. Mostly because it was the first time a king had married another man. A grunt of aggravation escaped him, “That isn’t helping my case of nerves, Riley. You and Drake had the right idea eloping.”

“Damn straight we did!”

There was a knock on the door and Drake let himself into the room.

“It’s about time, Walker. Get in here and fulfill your best man duties. I need to get to Max and fulfil my matron of honor duties!”  

Drake caught her in his arms as she tried to leave the room, “Not until after I fulfil my husbandly duties and kiss my wife.”

She couldn’t help the stupid grin that broke out across her face every time he called her that. Which he did often, with a stupid grin of his own.  

Later that night, she rested her head on his shoulder as they danced at the reception. A sigh of contentment escaped her lips. Her two best friends were married, Cordonia had rallied behind their king, she was married to the love of her life and expecting another baby. Life had never been so good.

Ellie had been thrilled by the news that Drake was her father. “So now I have three dads!” She had squealed, throwing her arms around Drake’s neck.

The Walkers had made the decision to continue to live at the palace so that Ellie and Xander’s lives weren’t disrupted in any way. Riley stayed on in an advisory capacity to Maxwell as well as continuing many of her previous duties under a different title. But the most important change over the last year was currently holding her close and whispering in her ear about his love for her.

He loved her and she loved him, they were finally together, and everything was right in the world.

~Fin

[jehnikaiyn]

FFxivWrite2019 - Prompt 2: “Bargain”

@sea-wolf-coast-to-coast​​

Before darkness flooded his star, he was known to his peers by the name of Baxter. Together, Baxter and his small farming community tended to their crops and filled the realm's bellies with their harvest. It was by no means a luxurious life, but they were simple folk with simple needs, and few wants beyond sunny skies and timely rains. Of course, like many, they were well aware of their impending doom. They trusted the Warriors of Light to stave off the hungering dark. It was all so sudden, then, when the rays of the sun grew dim, drowned out by the suffocating blackness looming over their farmsteads, and their crops began to wilt. The forms of his friends contorted and cracked into shapes his broken brain couldn't comprehend. Eventually, he too fell to their fate, and the fate of every other being that called the star home; never again would they behold the sun.

With his transformation, Baxter was yet named Baxter, but he no longer had the tongue to speak it - or any other words he knew, for that matter. Those who heard his voice described it, between screams of agony, as "a sound that was so high-pitched that it was impossible to hear, but low-enough to be felt in the very bones of those nearby"; or, at least they would speak of it as such, if Baxter had not hewn them into pieces before they could comment.

When some semblance of order had been restored to the Void in the wake of the Flood of Darkness, Baxter, and his misshapen ilk, were damned to its lower rungs. But, not content with his fate, nor his unending hunger, he ascended the ladder over countless millennia. Many a master he enticed with promises of power and dark deals; all become dust under his heel, and marrow between his mouth parts. Now, he was feared by his peers, and given tribute to turn his terrible power to their cause. He was, in a way of speaking lost to tragedy and history, a "self made man," if only 'man' were still apropos.

Today, he was to be given a new master - one which, according to those who had entreated this particular Source-born mortal with their stygian deals, claimed her to be "savvy", though in far more damning hisses, shrieks, screams, and otherwise unpleasant parodies of communique. Baxter, of course, held no fear in his chitinous chest cavity, and gladly took the spoken-of mortal up on her summons. Tonight (it was always night, here), he was to cross the veil, and enter the source. Pride bubbled up his throat, and with a gargled, slick noise, he spat it across the barren soil, and stomped through the twisting, vacuous portal through space and time, to his destination, and the delicious aether it promised.

"FOOL!" Baxter cackled as he materialized into a sterile, white space. The walls rattled as though they were trembling in fear from his voice alone, and the buzzing, fluorescent tube lights above blew out in series. He had practiced this particular speech many times, and he was dying to see the stain in his summoner's pants it never failed to produce. "I AM—"

"Yes, you're Baxter. I know. Do you mind lowering your voice? Others are trying to work," spoke an indifferent voice from out of the Voidsent's view. "Take a seat. We're here to discuss the terms of your employment."

Never once, in all of his many thousands of years, had Baxter's booming introduction been interrupted. Immediately, he felt as small as a kitten (or at least, what he thought kittens used to look like), and he was compelled to do as he was callously commanded. Looking down with each of his six eyes, he realized the voice belonged to a red-headed runt of a female Miqo'te (that's what they call them here, right?) dressed conservatively in an ill-fitting business suit. With his heightened sense of smell, he easily perceived the caffeine and tobacco she'd recently partaken of.

"Thank you for coming," the Keeper monotonously, thanklessly thanked. "How was your trip? I don't care. Sign your name at the bottom on the dotted line, please," she explained, before shoving a slip of parchment roughly against Baxter's chest. "By signing this form, you agree to..." she began, before her voice was lost to mindless mumbling as she distracted herself with something on her iTome.

Even more stunned and confused, Baxter spawned a tendril from his flank and brought the densely-worded agreement under his scrutiny. Unwilling to bother himself with the contract's finer terms, he grumble-growled lowly and spat an inky substance upon the parchment that, he supposed, would substitute for his signature. Writing in the language of the Void more often than not caused mortals headaches, anyways.

The Keeper seated across from him barely seemed to notice, and obviously didn't care enough to explain the voidsent's strange circumstance. She huffed a singular chuckle as she scrolled past something funny on her device. Boredly, Baxter begun to scan his surroundings, each eye acting on its own. The space he found himself in was foreign in every regard. While each summoning thus far had been in a cave or other natural, lightless place, this environment was very much man-made. People - mortals - were sat in small, cube-shaped partitions, looking drained of all life as they toiled away at the menial tasks given to them by their angry-looking supervisors. He'd occasionally spy two or more mortals conversing beside a coffee machine of Allagan make, speaking lowly - but not below the hearing range of his hyper-evolved ears - about what he supposed typical things were: family, friends, life, mortgages. People passed the space he was seated within without looking - save for a single Hyuran man, who regarded him with a pitying stare, as if to say, 'you poor soul, you' with just his tired-looking eyes.

Was this place Hell? What level had he found himself in?

"EXCUSE ME," he began, before he was interrupted by a sharp, hissing noise from the Keeper across from him. Her tail flicked irritably as, with a long, dramatic sigh, she placed her pocket-sized device face-down on her desk.

"What?" she demanded, scowling up at the fifteen-fulm tall abomination. "You're hired. Get to work. You've got deadlines, and if you don't meet them, the regional manager's going to have you canned." The Keeper clapped her hands once, twice. "Chop-chop. Your cubicle's over there." She rose from her high-backed chair, and lifted her bony index finger towards an unoccupied cell, which happened fall directly within the sight-line of an irate-looking task manager's own.

Thoroughly whipped, and given no other option, Baxter thudded towards his space. For the first time ever, he made an effort to not crush the lesser being of the Source underfoot; they would consider their deaths a blessing, he figured. He arrived unceremoniously, took his seat, and immediately crushed the chair given to him under his five tonze of weight. Groaning, he looked down at his too-small desk, and begun to look over his quota. He frowned. There was no way he'd be able to fulfill this. He realized that the only smiles to be seen in this place were purely temporary, or on the progressive-looking motivational posters tacked on to the many wall-hanging cork boards.

With a shrill sigh, he began to busy himself with what amounted to nothing at all.

[urdbell18]

A Seed Hidden in the Heart Chapter 13: The One With the Bad Cupid

AN:I know I know it's been a while but here it is! Was it worth the wait? I don't know I'll let you guys decide. Enjoy! Also, hooray me 400th post!

By the first of February all of Baxter high became one big pink, red, white, and heart filled eyesore. Zelda had to grit her teeth and ignore it as best she could unless she goes insane. Hilda and Sabrina didn’t help, they both squealed and whispered in hushed tones like they were telling each other deep dark secrets. The pair of them were acting like teenagers, and while this behavior was perfectly acceptable for Sabrina it wasn’t for Hilda. Zelda looked at her sister like she lost her mind but deep down she recognized that Hilda was happy, the happiest that Zelda has ever seen her. It’s why she didn’t make a big fuss about it but she reserved the right to be annoyed. There was one beacon of hope and that was Mary.

Mary wasn’t very found of Valentines either. Someone, they didn’t know who and they hope they never find out, tapped a large pink heart on Mary’s office door. Mary proceed to rip it off her door then shred the paper heart before throwing it away. Zelda, who bore witness to the display because she needed some more staples and Mary said she had a box she could spare, was, yes taken back, but also amused and a bit relieved. While Zelda could never picture it she didn’t know if Valentine days would turn Mary into a glorified teenager like it did her sister or a sappy romantic like it did to the male gender. Zelda still had nightmares from when Dr. Cerberus showed up at her house with a large bouquet of roses and serenading Hilda with “(Everything I Do) I Do it For You” ruining it for Zelda forever. She never cared for it so it wasn’t a big lost. About a week until Valentine’s it became clear the Hilda was staking a claim to the house. She kept buying things that she attached notes on to not touch and buzzing around the house like a twister, collecting things here and there and stashing them in the conservatory. Zelda just looked on with no interest and immediately texted Mary to make plans. They were under no circumstances celebrating but they came up with a good plan, something nice and casual.

The plan was as followed. On Friday after Zelda picked up her daughter from school would take them to Mary’s house, far away from everyone and everything. The whole thing was going to be laid-back, Zelda wrote a reminder to herself to fill a small suitcase with things like board games, movies, and some books to keep Vida happy. Mary was convinced that they would order in, most likely pizza or chinese which ever struck their fancy. Zelda didn’t know how Mary could think that but after having a heated debate over it during lunch one day Zelda realized Mary was messing with her. While Mary’s answers were perfectly reasonable she wore this grin that was a cross between a smirk and a soft smile. It caused Zelda to stop mid sentence and she shook her head, calling Mary ‘impossibly insufferable’ but she was smiling all the same.

That WAS the plan, until this happened...

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

On Wednesday Hawthorne called an emergency staff meeting the split second after the dismissal bell finished ringing. Teachers started slowly trickling in, murmuring what was going on and what the meeting could be about. Teachers that were in charge of after school clubs were the last to join, they had to inform their club that they would be late or dismiss the club for that day. Among them was Mary and she looked pissed having been dragged away from her W.I.C.C.A. meeting, she took the seat that Zelda was saving for her with a low rumbling growl. Zelda, knowing how much Mary looked forward to her meetings, placed her hand on Mary’s knee and gave it a light squeeze, it instantly relaxed Mary though her scowl remained. Hawthorne came in when the last staff member squeezed himself between two math teachers.

“Thank you all for coming. You are probably wondering why I called you in such last minute.” Several murmurs could be heard and Mary gave a low growl that vibrated from the back of her throat. “I have gotten an email from the head of the PTA stating concern that they do not have enough volunteers to work the dance this Saturday.” Oh god the dance, Zelda groaned and cringed just thinking about it. The dance was another of Hawthorne’s ‘genius ideas to keep an eye on the rowdy teenagers’ but unlike Halloween this one appeared to be working. Several students bought tickets for the dance, Sabrina and her friends being among them. “Which is why I called you all here today to see if any of you would like to volunteer to work the dance.” There was silence. No one said anything or moved. Hawthorne’s face got redder and redder the longer the silence carried on. After five minutes Hawthrone who was starting to turn purple, huffed. “Very well I’ll volunteer you than.” Hawthorne started calling names, the teachers he called either groaned or sputtered with annoyance. Zelda tensed and squeezed Mary’s knees just a little harder. She hoped against hope the Hawthorne wouldn’t call on her, she worked Halloween so it would only be fair to not call on her. And he didn’t but just as they thought he was over he called one last person. “And Ms. Wardwell. I think that would cover the dance nicely. Meeting adjourned.” Hawthorne quickly left the meeting, most likely to save his own skin as the teaching staff went into an uproar. Mary sat there in a fuming rage. Zelda didn’t blame her nor did she chace after Mary when she abruptly got up and stormed out of the meeting. Zelda knew Mary and knew that Mary needed space to process her anger. Zelda left with the rest of the staff as they started to trickle out.

When Zelda finished her blackboards and her remaining grading for the day she still had five minutes before she normally left so she sat in her office to see if Mary would show. As she waited she sat at her desk deep in thought. Now that their not-Valentine’s plans were blown to bits Zelda had to think of something else to distract Vida and herself from the holiday. Maybe she’ll take her to the movies again, Vida seemed to like it enough to want to do it again. Or maybe a restaurant, that would be a nice treat for the both of them. But the problem with both of those ideas was not only the amount of people but they involved being out on a holiday, one that Zelda particularly hated. She gave up thinking of something five minutes before 4:40, when it was clear that Mary wasn’t going to show. Zelda didn’t mind and she packed up her stuff to leave for the day.

The second that she and Vida got home Zelda got an ear full of how unfair Hawthorne was being from Sabrina. Zelda let her niece carry on as she made dinner, when Sabrina was in ranting mode there was no stopping her and Zelda was too tired to try. It didn’t surprise Zelda that Sabrina knew, when Mary was angry she ranted and when she ranted nothing was held back and Sabrina was one of the few people that Mary could rant with. When they were done with dinner Sabrina and Ambrose were washing the dishes while Zelda helped Vida with her math homework.

“You know Auntie if Mary is going to be miserable at this dance thing why don’t you go and be miserable with her.”

“Ambrose that’s a great idea! Aunt Zelda you should go to the dance with Ms. Wardwell.”

“Before the two fo you lose your heads going to the dance isn’t a possibility.”

“Why not?” Zelda pointed her hand to her daughter who was currently trying as hard as she could to make her 3 as neat as she could.

“Oh.” Sabrina and Ambrose turned back to the dishes and they returned to the comfortable silence as before. By the time Sabrina and Ambrose finished the dishes Vida had completed her math homework and was working on her bear puzzle. That was Mary’s Christmas present to Vida, her very own puzzle that she worked on whenever she could. Zelda watched her from the armchair with a small glass of whisky, smiling softly at her little girl’s face sharp with focus.

“Auntie?” Zelda hummed as Ambrose, being careful of Vida and her puzzle, joined her, taking the armchair next to hers. “What if I watched Vida?”

“I don’t know Ambrose.”

“I know you don’t trust me but I promise I’ll keep a close eye on her.” Zelda took a slow draw of her whisky. She wished she could tell him he was wrong but he wasn’t. Zelda didn’t trust Ambrose with Vida because of something that he had done when he was a child. And he has proven since then that he has learned and grown pass his mistake. She’s trusted Sabrina on less so why can’t she trust him?

“Okay. But Ambrose-”

“I swear Auntie I’ll be on my best behavior and not a hair on head would be harmed.” Zelda glared at him and he, realizing what he said, ran a hand over the back of his head. “Right to far.” Zelda gave a dry chuckle and took another drink. As she continued to watch Vida as she tried to wrap her head around what she was about to. She still couldn’t believe it even as she wrote then sent an email to the person in charge of the dance. She was really doing this and when she pushed ‘send’ there was no turning back.

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

Today was such a good day! Vida couldn’t think it could get any better. To start, her Auntie Hilda made pancakes. Pancakes on a weekday! It has never happened before and she ate two happily with her face covered in strawberry jam. Vida noted that the pancakes that Aunt Hilda made were heart shaped, she didn’t know why until she arrived at school. Ooooooh, right Valentine’s day! Vida didn’t understand the importance of it completely but she knew that today was the day she could give out the cards she made. She spent a whole week working on them, making them neat and unique taking her time and great care with them. And then something happened about an hour after she arrived at school that blew away Aunt Hilda’s special heart shaped breakfast out the window. Her teacher told her that they would have an early lunch at the high school. She was going to Mommy’s and Sabrina’s school! There was only one thing that could make it better but she decided not to dwell on it.

Along with the rest of her class and teachers Vida walked to the highschool. Her fellow classmates ohhed when they arrived, it occured to Vida that none of her classmates have seen a building so big. Their excitement quickly turned to hesitation with a little touch of fear when they entered the lunchroom. Firstly, the lunchroom, or cafeteria as Sabrina called it, was huge! Their lunchroom was only half this size. And second the high schoolers, there was a lot of them and some of them they had to crane their necks up to see their faces, they were that tall! They kind of reminded Vida of the jolly green giant. Vida was the first to break away from her class, she saw Sabrina and her friends and her teacher said it was okay to join them when she pointed them out.

“Sabrina!” Her cousin paused mid laugh as she turned around to see her running to join her lunch box in hand.

“Hey squirt what are you doing here?” Harvey found a spare chair and he placed it between himself and Sabrina. After setting her lunch box on the table Vida climbed into the plastic seat. She had to sit with her legs under her so she could see over the table. Being short had so many disadvantages.

“My teacher said my class was allowed to have lunch with you guys so she brought us over.”

“That’s so cute.” Said Roz. Vida liked Roz, she was nice and smart and had really cool glasses that she let Vida try on one time. Vida opened her lunch box, she placed her cards inside it to keep them nice. Then she handed them to Sabrina and each of her friends, she had to stretch as far so she could to give her card to Susie. Susie had to meet her a little bit to take the card from her. Everyone said thank you when she gave them her cards and she talked about how she tried to make them unique. For Roz she found as much glasses decorations and drew as many as she could. For Susie she found an outline of a farm and tried her best to make it look like the one that Susie lived on though she doubts that Susie and her dad keep bears. Dr. C helped with Harvey’s, he cut up some old not valuable comic books and he glued the pieces where she wanted them. Her teacher called it a ‘collage’ but she doesn’t know what that means. For Sabrina she shaped her card into a cat, Sabrina liked cats and she ‘awed’ at the red and purple cat with a pink ribbon and uneven misshapen yellow eyes. After fawning over their cards Sabrina and her friends returned to their lunch, something that Vida would do herself but…

“Vida where’s your lunch?” Vida sunk in her chair and clunch her lunch box close to her, she took it back when she finished handing out her cards. She didn’t want to tell her cousin that she could count on one hand how many times she has actually had lunch at school. “Aunt Hilda packs you lunch right?” Vida just nods. She knows that Aunt Hilda makes her lunch. Aunt Hilda makes lunch for everyone and sometimes Vida would help her. “Vida is something wrong?” Sabrina used that soft voice that makes Vida tell her everything, she doesn’t know why or how to stop herself.

“Judas.”

“What?” Vida looks two tables over and Sabrina does the same. A boy, roughly the same age as Vida sat with some kids. He was a little on the pudgy side and was dressed in khaki pants and a crisp red polo. His black hair was slicked back and shiny with some sort of gel or mousse. He turned his head, most likely to talk to the person on his left but it was enough to spook Vida and she quickly turned back around trying to make herself even smaller in her chair. “Vida has he been bothering you?”

“He takes my lunch every day.” Vida didn’t say it any louder than a whisper, fearful that Judas might hear. She remembered the last time that she made Judas mad and she was careful to make sure she didn’t attract his attention. Sabrina looks shocked and a little mad and something settles inside Vida stomach, a bad feeling. Nothing good comes from Sabrina being mad. Sabrina starts to get up from her chair, Vida didn’t know what she was going to do but in a panic Vida yells. “No! Sabrina please don’t make it worse.” Sabrina pauses for a moment but then smiles, her sneaky smile and Vida doesn’t know if that’s better or worse.

“Just trust me.” She winks and hands Vida the last half of her turkey sandwich before walking over to where their teacher was talking. They talked for a minute and the dread that Vida feels, she doesn’t like it. Sabrina returns with a huge smile on her face.

“Wanna see your mom?” And just like that Judas is the last thing on her mind.

“Mommy!” Vida takes Sabrina’s hand and they say goodbye to Sabrina’s friends as they leave the cafeteria. It was a good walk from the cafeteria to Mommy’s office, Vida has never been there before but Sabrina knew where to take her, where to turn and what hallways to walk down and what door to knock on when they reach it. There was a pause before Sabrina opened the door.

“Aunt Zelda I have a surprise for you.”

“What is it Sabrina?” Sabrina moved more into the room so that she could enter.

“Mommy!” Vida ran into her mother’s office. Her mom was sitting behind her desk and her face showed a combination of shock and joy at seeing her in her office. Vida ran straight to her and Zelda scooped her up, hugging her close and kissing her cheek.

“Vida. What are you doing here?”

“Her class is having lunch at the cafeteria. I asked her teacher if it was okay to bring her to you and she said it was okay so long as I bring her back at the end of lunch.” Vida pouted into her mother’s shoulder. She didn’t have much time with her mom and she had to go back to school after. So unfair!

“Well then, you better make your time count baby bear.” Vida lifted her head from the soft warmth of her mother’s shoulder to see Mary sitting in a seat across from her mother with her feet on the edge of the desk. She winks at Vida when she noticed her looking at her.

“I made cards!” Vida pulled out two of her four remaining cards. One was for Ambrose and the other for Aunt Hilda and Dr. C, she made them one big card that she left at school because it was too big to fit in her lunch box. She held out Mary’s card and Mary had to get up from her seat when it became clear that Vida wasn’t going to leave Zelda’s lap until she was forced to. Mary took the card with a smirk and a raspberry to her cheek. Mary’s card was shaped like a kite, she made it out of green construction paper and the blue yarn that she made the tail from had letters tied to it that spelled ‘WICCA’. Zelda’s card was in the shape of a house, it looked like a combination of their own house and Vida trying to replicate the Addams Family house. Inside was in stick figure forms Vida, Zelda, and Mary in Vida’s best attempts at drawing them as the Addams Family characters they were at halloween.

“Thank you Vida I love it.” Vida beamed as Zelda kissed her cheek and gave her another tight hug. From there Vida told her mother about making her cards and the pancakes that Aunt Hilda made. All too soon Sabrina said she had to take her back, Vida pouted but hugged her mother and Mary goodbye. Sabrina returned her to her teacher and the rest of her classmates just as the bell rang, Sabrina waved goodbye before leaving. As they walked back to her own school Vida couldn’t help the big smile on her face. Definitely the best day ever!

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

Zelda spent the first half of Saturday making sure that the preparations she made for that night were set and the second half getting ready for the dance. She ignored Hilda who seemed to be going for some recond on how many things she could make heart shaped. When she left at 5 Hilda and Dr. C were holed away in the conservatory and Ambrose and Vida were in the parlor watching a movie. Vida’s Mary Poppins obsession was still going strong and Zelda kissed her goodbye during ‘Jolly Holiday with Mary’.

By the time that Zelda got to the school the dance was in full swing. The space that wasn’t being used for the refreshments and tables for people to rest at that lined the wall was taken up by dancing teenagers. The whole gym was packed to the brim with large pink and red heart shaped decorations, streamers, and balloons, one popped under her heel attracting the people closest to her. Lights and the music made it hard to take in anything not in three feet which was why she didn’t see Sabrina and her friends come up to her until they were right in front of her.

“Aunt Zelda you made it!” Sabrina’s friends murmured a greeting to her, she still intimidated them but that was okay by her. “Last I saw Ms. Wardwell she was sulking by the punch bowl.” Sabrina indicated over her shoulder to the corner across the gym, it was a quite dark corner with not that much foot traffic, it was perfect for Mary.

“Thank you Sabrina. Enjoy yourself but be smart, understood?” Zelda gave her niece a sharp look and Sabrina bristled a little.

“Understood Auntie.” And just like that Sabrina and her friends left to be lost in a sea of dancing bodies. Zelda didn’t waste any time making her way over to Mary. Mary was sulking in a corner with a glare that clearly spoke not to bother her but Zelda dared. She didn’t hesitate to join Mary and the second that she was in visible eyesight Mary’s scowl changed to a look of shock.

“What are you doing here?”

“Being miserable with you.”

“You know out of context someone could take that the wrong way.”

“And do you know that I don’t technically have to be here and could leave at any moment?”

“You wouldn’t dare. You’re not that cruel.”

“Oh?” Zelda rose and eyebrow and smirked. She took two teasing steps backward to make it seem like she was serious about leaving. Before she could take another step Mary growled and pounced wrapping her arms around her waist to bring her back and close against Mary. In the very back of her mind Zelda realized that this was inappropriate that they, two teachers, shouldn’t be pressed against each other the way they were when surrounded by their students. But they weren’t working, not officially, and there was nothing wrong with them, two consenting adults, being together. It was a romance holiday for crying out loud, it meant that she was allowed this, to be with Mary. Doubt would imply that she cared about strangers opinion and that was the furthest thing from the truth. Zelda only cared about her own opinion and Vida’s. That’s why she didn’t care who saw as she started to slowly kiss Mary and Mary slowly kissing her back. There were a few wolf whistles but the second they glared at the small crowd watching them they scrambled away. They weren’t bothered again for the rest of the night and when the dance was over Zelda went home with Mary.

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

When Zelda came into work the following Monday she and Mary were the number one topic of discussion by the students. Zelda was constantly picking up whispered conversations when she walked the halls. She ignored it at first, gossip was beneath her and uninteresting, but when her class starts whispering every time she turns her back she had enough.

“Is there something you all would like to say?” Her second period Russian class paled and a few students even sank into their seats. “Very well then you all are prepared for the test-”

“It’s about you and Ms. Wardell!” A girl, one of her few juniors spoke out in a rush that took Zelda back. Katie was always so soft spoken.

“What about me and Ms. Wardwell?”

“There are rumors that… the two of you… are… well… dating.”

“And?”

“We just wanted to know if it was true.”

“What Ms. Wardwell and I do in our spare time is our own business and what we do is no concern to you.”

“But-”

“But nothing. Do I pry into your life? No, I’m here to teach, you’re here to learn. If you want to engage in gossip I suggest you go elsewhere. Now if that’s all I would like to continue.” Her class fell silent and they continued class without further interruption.

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

“It appears that we are ‘out of the closet’.”

“I beg your pardon?” Zelda looked at Mary confused, she wasn’t familiar with that expression or how it applied to her and Mary. When Mary joined her for lunch like normal she didn’t say anything, just took her usual seat with a kiss to Zelda’s head and started to eat her lunch. Mary lifted her lunch tray and handed Zelda a single piece of paper. It was a print out of the school blog with a headline big and bold that said ‘Ms. Spellman and Ms. Wardwell: just friends or more?’ along with a picture of them at the dance. Someone had taken a picture of the when they were at the punch bowl, they were holding hands. Zelda placed the paper down and looked at Mary, she shrugged her shoulders as to say ‘so’.

“You’re not bothered.” It was said as a statement not a question and Zelda looked Mary dead in the eye to say.

“No. Are you?”

“Not at all.”

“Good.” Mary smirked and when lunch was over she kissed Zelda’s cheek goodbye. So that was that, they were ‘out’ as Mary called it. Zelda oddly didn’t care, her relationship with Mary didn’t change and she would be damned if she let anyone change it.

[dp-pastandpresent]

Past and Present: Chapter 16

Danny! Danny! Danny, wake up!"

The green-eyed ghost opened his eyes to warm hands on his shoulders and the sound of a voice.

'Her voice!'

"Sam!?" he breathed, finally starting to come to.

"Oh thank god!" Sam sighed, leaning back to take a breath herself.

"What? What's going on?"

He sat up and looked around, coming to realize that he had no idea where they were.

"Well, you got hit in the head with a boomerang, for one, and now we're in the bathroom at Nasty Burger." Sam said, with a bit of sarcasm.

But Danny's sense for sarcasm was off as he rubbed his head where the boomerang had hit.

"Boomerang?"

"Long story…" Sam began. Upon seeing his eye brows raised, she elaborated.

"The Fentons have another stupid invention… I think Jack called it the Booo-merang? Anyway, Jack was freaking out because you left DNA all over their lab last night – way to go – and so he decided to have it track you down."

Memories of the previous evening slowly came back as Danny remembered having visited the lab. What he really remembered were the photos he discovered, but now that he put his mind to it, he did recall touching some weird device.

"It was a tracker?"

He made a mental note to stop touching the Fentons' stuff.

"Apparently. It keyed into your signature and didn't let up until it found you," Sam continued.

Danny was still trying to piece things together. To his knowledge, he had never left a DNA imprint in the lab before, and he had been there loads of times.

His eyes were flickering blue, he was craving burgers, and now he was leaving DNA all over the lab. Something was malfunctioning somewhere and he was starting to get curious.

"How did… How did you find me?" he managed to choke out between confusing thoughts.

Sam blushed, not wanting to reveal the things she had seen on the Fenton's computer and the way they had made her feel.

"Well… I may have been poking around the lab… and found Jack's program that tells the user where the booo-merang went…" She quickly looked away, hoping her face wasn't too red.

All of his questions about his condition disappeared as he heard what she said.

"So I guess that means you forgive me?"

She quickly turned back around.

"Hold on Danny Fenton! That means no such thing!"

'Ok, maybe it does….' she thought.

While he had been ready to explain his side and try to win her back, Danny found himself, yet again, distracted by what she had just said.

'Has she ever used your last name? Did she even know it?'

"Did you say Fenton?"

--

Although he already knew she had visited the graveyard, he tried his best not to reveal that knowledge as they sat in the bathroom stall and Sam explained the last 48 hours.

"After everything that happened at my house, you know, with my… grandma…" she managed to choke out, still a bit unsure about how she felt, "I couldn't go back. Not right away. I couldn't face the truth. Not about her, not about you."

Sam was finally coming to recognize the emotions she had felt the past two days and how stupid she was to think that she couldn't talk to her grandmother about any of it.

"I freaked out. Made some stupid decisions, and ended up at Tucker's."

She was careful to avoid the part where she had considered the school roof again.

"A few hours of video games and I realized there was really only one place for answers: the graveyard"

The whole time she was explaining the story, she had slowly begun to move closer to Danny, coming to find herself close enough to lean in, and it was really hard for her to resist just that.

Danny listened in silence, knowing that this was a story Sam needed to tell without interruption.

"I found your plot. And it helped. A lot." She finished with a small sigh, finally turning to look him the eyes.

Danny didn't know what to say. Here they were, sitting on the bathroom floor of a greasy burger restaurant, with the girl next to him spilling her guts.

After what seemed like decades, he finally managed to speak.

"Sam, I'm so, so sorry."

She leaned over and wrapped her warm arms around his cold body. The two of them embraced in a warming hug, while small reflections of blue shown in the mirror behind her.

--

They stayed locked in their embrace for at least five more minutes, Danny's cold body becoming warmer against Sam's.

'So this is what heaven feels like…'

Danny slowly faced her, their eyes locking briefly before Danny opened his mouth to speak.

"Sam, do I feel warm to you?" he asked.

Taken aback by his question, Sam pulled away slightly.

"Well of course, we have been holding each other for a while now," she said, trying to hide her worry.

Danny got up, shocking her a bit, and continued.

"True, but no amount of human contact can make me as warm as I feel. And then there's the flickering, and the eyes… I just wish Clockwork would have told me more…"

"Clockwork?" Sam asked, trying to hide that she recognized the name from a few days ago.

Danny had been so wrapped up in his relationship with Sam that he had forgotten that he hadn't actually told her about Clockwork.

"The ghost who resurrected me, the one who sent me here. His name is Clockwork but many call him 'The Master of Time' because he controls the past, present, and future, and can predict what may or may not happen."

"Sounds kinda fishy to me," Sam said disdainfully, "If he can control so much, why couldn't he tell you more about what might happen to you?"

While he had hoped to have this conversation at her home, somehow they had found themselves having it on the floor of a greasy bathroom. But location aside, Danny needed to know where Sam stood.

"I get the feeling he didn't know either. And while I wish he had told me more about my past, looking back at the day I was resurrected, I feel like he was speculating a lot himself. Like he didn't really know what to expect going forward. "

It had taken a lot of soul searching for Danny to reach this conclusion, and in all honestly he felt like until this point, he had never been able to fully grasp Clockwork's powers.

'You sure are one strange ghost, Clockwork. I wish you had told me more, explained more, or even just filled me in on your powers. It would make this all so much easier'

Danny needed to get the time ghost out of his head and bring the story back to him and Sam. After all, there were a lot of things he had been dying to say since her disappearance.

"Sam, tell me the truth, are you worried about me, about my powers?" Danny said, a bit forcefully.

She turned back around, trying to hide the worry in her eyes.

"Danny…I…"

Before she could continue the sound of knocking flooded the room.

"Hey! What's going on in there! I need to go!"

'Shoot. We're in a bathroom!'

Reluctantly, Danny looked at her, implying that this conversation wasn't over, and they slowly walked to the door and clicked it unlocked. But instead of ushering her to walk out with him, he strode back over, picked her up and silently flew them both through the wall, out into the open air.

CRASH!

The door flew open, and an angry Dash Baxter looked around, finding no one on the other side.

"What idiot locked this thing after using it?" he said out loud.

--

Together they flew above the city, high enough to not need Danny's invisibility.

Although still overcoming her initial frustration with Danny and trying to make sense of their interrupted conversation, Sam couldn't say no to flying.

'So magical. So breathtaking. So free…'

In his arms all the frustrations of the past few days seemed to melt away, leaving Sam with a calm sense of safety.

'The last two days have been such a test. How am I even supposed to choose between the pain he caused and the love he shows?'

'You can't. That's why this is so hard. That's why you should have just walked away. That's why you should have died that night.'

Somehow that first night on the school gym had resurfaced again, as it seemed to do a lot lately. Yes, she was grateful Danny had stopped her, but was it really worth all the heartache that had come since?

'If he hadn't come, saved me, I could be in a better place right now, with no worries about family drama and heartbreak. Heck, maybe I'd even be a ghost myself!'

The thought had occurred to her a couple times that dying could lead to becoming a ghost, just like Danny, and then all their problems would be solved. No issues of aging, saving, or human/ghost relationship drama. Just simple ghost love.

'But really, do you think Clockwork would bring someone back who intentionally wanted to die?'

That was the thought that stopped her every time.

'Especially with no one here looking for me; after all, Mom and Dad are barely around, and grandma would never forgive me for what I wanted to do…'

'At least Danny had a family who cared. Parents. Girlfriend. Sister and now nephew. They never stopped looking, caring, trying.'

--

While Sam was lost in thought, Danny kept quiet, enjoying the weight of her warm body as he flew the familiar path towards Sam's home, letting the issues he had brought up slip away with the wind.

"Danny, tell me about Jazz…"

Sam's voice cutting through the peaceful quiet took Danny by surprise.

"Sam, how did you…?" He began, although he fully knew the answer.

"You don't think I didn't see her plot next to yours last night?" she asked, blushing.

"Well, I guessed maybe, but I didn't think it mattered. Why the sudden interest?"

He continued to hold her as they flew, but the flight was becoming a bit more difficult as he tried to retrieve more memories.

"I know she was your sister, and Jack's mom. I just thought maybe there was a connection between her and why Jack is so interested in you..." Sam trailed off, starting to think this was a bad idea.

If Danny thought so too, he tried not to show it as he provided the answers he had.

"Yes. Jazz was my sister. Older by two years. Always the brainiac, destined for Harvard Med."

It was happening again: memories Danny didn't even know he had were coming back to him like they had yesterday.

"Do you know if she ever went?" Sam asked curiously.

This was a toughone for Danny, having died before he was able to see it happen.

"She was at the community college when I graduated," he gulped, trying to hold back ghostly tears. "Taking pre-bio classes because she wanted to be at home to watch after me. She had always watched out for me, even when I was a baby. Keeping me safe and making sure nothing harmed me."

Their flight was getting stiffer, and Sam could tell it would be best if Danny just set her down and they talked on solid ground, but he didn't seem to want to stop and she didn't want to interrupt him.

"She went to community college so she could see me through high school, but doing so deferred her from Harvard by a couple years. I don't know if she ever transferred over…"

Sam felt a drop of wet on her head and looked up to see small tears falling from Danny's blue eyes as he told his story.

"Danny, I'm… so… Wait! Tears!?"

"Hmmm? Danny said, suddenly taken aback by her change in expression.

Before they could say anymore, Danny found himself falling back to the ground, his grip on Sam loosened as they both fell to the world below.

--

Clockwork banged his staff against his screen, frustration radiating through it in the form of electricity, causing the screen to turn to static.

"Daniel! What is happening to you!? What have I done? Why am I letting you feel these emotions? These HUMAN emotions? Is one vision of the future really worth it!?"

Turning and floating away from his screen, the ghost didn't get the chance to see the young ghost fall to the world below.

[myselfinserts]

❝ I’m surrounded by amateurs. ❞

It was nearly six in the morning when Regi woke up with a throbbing headache and his eye swollen shut. His body ached from sleeping on the floor, and he was sure he’d probably catch a cold sometime in the next few days if he didn’t make sure he got medicated when they returned to the dorms tomorrow morning.

But he immediately pushed all those aside when his phone alerted him to a text from Tanith.

> Which of these should I wear for picking up my friend today? I need to know which one will make her like me more.

Attached to the message was a photo of two outfits laying on her bed. On the left, her school uniform with its pastel pink sweater, white blouse, and dark red skirt. Next to it was her favorite orange shirt paired with a pair of chocolate brown jeans that he knew for a fact would be paired with her best pair of steel-toed boots and leather vest.

He tried his best to stay quiet as he sat up, trying his best to type up a message despite how hard it was to see. Between the broken glasses and the black eye, he was not having a good time of it.

So he decided to just roll with it.

> ou look goos in eitger. Amd O lnow yoir ftuend wpll loke yoi alfedy.

> I’m going to assume you just woke up and lost your glasses again.

> Sorry. Bur yeag. Kindsa.

> lol you dummy.

Regi smiled. He carefully got up and made his way over to the desk, putting the good lens onto his eye as best he could like a monocle. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to finish the conversation.

> it’s a bit early for you to be awake, isn’t it? It’s what, almost 4am?

> I’m too nervous. I really want L to stay for the visit like we planned. But...

> Tan?

> you remember what happened the last time, right?

He couldn’t forget. That kid from Yorkshire had a lot of nerve. Regi almost kicked his ass for that monster comment.

> this won’t be like the last time. You have two great friends in Elmo and Raph, and Luci and Mari are there too. And Uncle Elbert. You have me, even if I can’t be there physically. And I know, deep down, this pen pal of yours isn’t like the others. She’s going to adore you. I just know it.

> you really mean that? You’re not just saying that because you’re my brother, right?

> Tan, I would never lie to you about you. You know that.

I only lie to you about me. Like a hypocrite.

> Thanks Regi.

> Not a problem.

> Still need to pick an outfit tho.

> ....and you really think I’m the one to ask?

> Good point, but still. Please?

> Okay, okay. Go with the orange. It’s your lucky color.

> Orange it is! Thanks bro! TTYL!

> Luv you!

> Luv you too~!

With a sigh of relief, he set his phone and the broken glasses down. With his sister’s fears taken care of, he decided to take the opprotunity to get cleaned up before his roomie’s alarm went off. He turned and headed for the the bathroom, reaching out for the door handle with a bright, confident smile.

Only to miss it by half a foot and walk right into the door, falling backwards with a loud thud.

“Motherfucker!”

Regi looked over at the bed, managing to catch a glimpse of Étienne setting the bedside lamp back down. Before he had a chance to apologize, the blond got out of bed and grabbed him by the collar, shocking him with the sheer strength he had in one hand. Regi was six foot two, and at least fifteen stone from all the training his uncle put him through.

Damn. Allard’s pretty strong. It’s...kinda nice to be lifted.

Wait, why am I thinking that?

“I’m surrounded by amateurs, morons, and bumbling buffoons.” Étienne made him sit on the bed, anger radiating off of him. “Wait here.” He turned to head to the door, not even bothering to change out of his pajamas.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm getting the teacher," Étienne spat. "Your eye is completely swollen shut, and I'm not looking after your ass all day so you don't walk into shit."

Regi reached out in panic, grabbing his arm tightly. "Please don't! I have something to fix this, just please don't…don't tell Rosine."

Étienne glared at him. "Let. Me. Go."

"S-sorry." He took his hand off him, looking away shamefully. "Look, I have some of my sister's healing water in my med kit. I didn't want to use it on my eye since I only have twelve ounces on me and-"

"Shut the fuck up."

Regi stopped talking.

"Good. Now stay there. And don't move." Étienne walked over to Regi's suitcase, quickly throwing it open and pulling out the medical box. "Short answers only. How much of this stuff do you need to heal an eye?"

"No clue," Regi mumbled. "Normally I just take a swig and it works. I'd have to ask Marianne how much-"

"What part of 'short answers only' is so beyond your comprehension?" Étienne let out a sigh, looking through the kit. "Well, now we're going to find out an exact measurement. Looks like your kit has clean droppers." He took the bottle out, along with a dropper and a pair of gloves before he returned to where Regi sat. "I'm going to apply this directly into your eye. This is probably going to hurt like hell, but please try not to be a baby about it."

“Okay.”

Once his roommate was done preparing for the treatment, Regi closed his eyes and forced himself to remain still as Étienne tilted his head upwards to get a better look. His fists clenched tightly in his lap when he felt a slight amount of pressure, a pair of fingers assessing the damage and testing if he could gently coax his eyelids open just enough. When he seemed satisfied with the assessment, Étienne filled the dropper and started to apply the first drop.

As soon as it hit his eye, Regi could already feel his headache easing a little.

His hands are a lot like Marianne’s. They don’t shake. But...there’s something off. His hands are gentle but...unnaturally still. Is it his quirk? Soft hands? Gentle grip? Something like that?

Étienne applied another drop, waiting before preparing a third. “I slept fine, by the way. Until you oh so rudely woke me up. Actually got a proper rest without being irritated.”

“Huh? Oh.” Regi managed a small grin. “I’m glad to hear it.”

“Stop smiling, you dolt. Makes it hard to treat you.”

“Sorry.” He stopped smiling.

“And stop apologizing. That’s almost as annoying as your wake up calls. Running into the fucking door. Dumbass.” Étienne‘s golden eyes narrowed suspiciously. “How the hell did you even get this injury anyway? And what happened to your glasses?”

Regi felt his stomach flip. “I stepped on them by accident,” he lied. Baxter had stepped on them after knocking them off his face. “After I tried getting up after falling over.”

Étienne paused.

“What?” Regi asked.

“Gladstone.”

Oh god. Why is he saying my name like that?

“I’ll ask one last time,” Étienne warned. “And I want the truth. How. Did you. Get injured?”

Regi swallowed thickly as his voice grew soft and broken. “It...it was Fielding. He knocked on the door and I thought it might have been Madame or housekeeping, so like an idiot, I answered.” He braced himself for any oncoming insults. “I should have checked the peep hole.”

“Indeed.” Étienne added another four drops. “Never liked the bastard. Knew he was an idiot the moment he chugged this stuff in class.”

“...that...that was him, wasn’t it?” Regi couldn’t help but chuckle a little. “I was having such a bad day that day it almost slipped my mind. Probably one of my worst.”

“I can’t imagine what could possibly have happened to you if you consider that day your worst, especially given the assignment in class.”

Regi stared at him with a dead, listless stare. “My horror movie obsessed girlfriend stalked me all the way to Paris after promising to look after my uncle and sisters while I’m here, all because I told her I needed to cut contact for two weeks to focus on class work.”

Étienne seemed to nearly drop the water, managing to regain composure and add another few drops. “How have you not broken up with her already?”

“It’s complicated. Hero publicity politics, poor finances, the fact that she doesn’t like the word ‘no’-”

“Grow a pair, Gladstone. If you can’t break up with a girl that desperate you’ll never last the rest of the semester, let alone a day in this field.” He shot him a warning look. “If that girl comes anywhere near me-”

“I promise, I’ll deal with her as soon as the trip is over so that doesn’t happen.”

“You fucking better. People like that are almost as bad as Fielding.” His lip curled into a tight scowl, his frustration radiating in pulsing waves. “Desperate people like that piss me off.”

“A lot of people seem to piss you off.”

Crap, why the fuck did I just say that?! I just made him angrier at me!

Étienne raised an eyebrow, his scowl morphing briefly into a smile, but he didn’t reply. Regi couldn’t help but wonder if he was angry or...did he actually like that comeback?

He decided he didn’t want to know.

After about a total of fifty-nine drops, Regi’s eye was completely healed. All the pain was gone, and his skin had cleared up entirely. Étienne handed him the dropper, tossing the gloves into the nearby bin before turning to the restroom. “I’m using the shower first since you woke me up. In the meantime, clean this place up. I don’t want to see bedding on the floor, understand?”

“Étienne, wait-”

Étienne turned on his heal, looking almost ready to strangle him. “What the fuck do you want now?”

Regi took a quick breath, steadying himself. “I wanted to say thank you. For helping me. That was very kind of you.”

“You better realize I didn’t do it because I wanted to be nice to you, of all people.”

“I understand that. But I still appreciate the help. Thank you.” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “And about the other night...we...we don’t have to be friends if you don’t want to, but-”

Étienne rolled his eyes. “You are such a pain in my ass.”

Despite the sting, Regi held his ground. “We don’t have to be friends. We don’t even have to talk to each other. After this trip, we can pretend none of this ever happened if you want. But at the very least, can we at least be cordial with each other when at school? Somewhat civil at least if we happen to cross paths?” He felt his ears burning. “We’re going to be seeing a lot of each other in class anyway. What’s the point in added frustrations of actively trying to avoid each other with an unstable wall? A sturdy draw bridge would be a bit more efficient, wouldn’t it?”

He wanted to be friends. Regi wanted at least one person in the support department to talk to that wasn’t the teacher. Someone he could talk theoreticals and experiments with. Maybe even someone he could share his uncle’s coding books with. A lab partner to do a few tests with on the weekends. No one in the department would even approach him. 

Regi just wanted a friend in his field. 

But if he couldn’t have that, he’d settle for an acquaintance. 

The room remained silent for a minute before Étienne turned back towards the restroom. “Your analogies are abysmal. Get your fucking mess cleaned up.”

The door clicked shut, and Étienne locked himself inside. 

Defeated, Regi let out a sigh and proceeded to start cleaning up the room as best he could. 

It was worth a shot. 

[cepmurphy]

FREE: First chapter of Events

“Events, dear boy, events.” Harold Macmillan may or may not have actually said this, when asked what is most likely to disrupt governments. When it came to British encounters with the alien, it doesn’t really matter if the quote is real. In a more fundamental sense, it is true. The exact number and nature of alien visits can never be known but has happened before the human race even existed. The Antarctic contains the crumbling ruins of an alien colony that dates back thirty millions years. 1[] Alien remains dated thousands of years old have been found in Egypt, leading to the false belief that aliens were responsible for the pyramids. [2] Surviving writing from the Roman Empire, the Ashikaga shogunate, the Mughal Empire, Ming Dynasty, and Cromwell’s Commonwealth make note of monsters and demons that are plausible enough to be alien encounters. The mysterious ‘foo fighters’ of World War Two have been confirmed as alien observers or lost craft, watching our war play out with keen eyes. [3] And for the purposes of this book, a bizarre “glowing box” was sighted three times over Britain in 1878. Declassified briefing notes for Prime Minister Benjamin Disraeli reveal that the government spotted this and thought it was proof the Germans had cracked human flight before the Empire had. When it was decided that Germany could not have done this without British spies noticing something, the government began to discuss more esoteric theories and Disraeli ordered the establishment of the Royal Order of Skywatchers to keep track “of these strange, alien visitors”. To “keep public confidence and order”, the whole thing was kept secret at the highest levels. This was a recurring problem with pre-Korean Contact alien incidents. With knowledge of the Skywatchers kept solely between the Cabinet’s top echelons and the palace, all it took was a change of political party to leave the order completely isolated and forgotten. The Order continued as a vestigial group until a bemused George V had it scrapped. When the Egyptian “Gate of the Gods” was revealed by metallurgists to be of non-earthly origin in 1924, Prime Minister Ramsay MacDonald had the RAF establish a “Sky Watch Unit” in case an alien race showed up. It had only existed for a month before it was shut down in a petty act of anti-Labour cant by the next government. “A waste of tax for a socialist’s flight of fancy,” was how Samuel Hoare dubbed it when he became Secretary of State for the Air. The Gate continued to gather dust until the 1990s [4], when the previous studies were unearthed. Few of the encounters with ‘foo fighters’ made an impact either. Most reports never made it to the highest levels and it’s likely any that did were, understandably, dismissed as less important than the war. The same happened with other governments: because there was no institutional memory, no counter-alien organisation could survive more than a few years and it was rapidly forgotten than mankind was not alone. Germany is a piteous example. The First World War had wiped out the Nachtwächter, the Kaiser’s equivalent of the Skywatchers; Berlin Himmelgruppe, a small group of academics and rocket engineers formed in the 1920s, were sent to the camps in 1934 (and the Nazis also wiped out the French Veille de Nuit in 1940 [5]); and the Luftwaffe’s ‘foo fighter’ sightings did make it to Hitler’s desk but were written off by Allied occupiers as his deranged fantasies. The Roswell crash should have been the game-changer but ran afoul of Cold War politics. President Truman, extremely worried that news of alien life would leak out the more people were in on the secret, did not tell any foreign leader about it and declared it a state secret. The problem was that Truman gave control over alien intelligence to Air Force Intelligence – a problem in that the CIA, unhappy about being cut out, talked to friendly people at MI6. This meant the news reached Number 10 (and, thanks to Kim Philby, the Kremlin). [6] Prime Minister Atlee and his core Cabinet agreed, after much quiet discussion, to also keep this a secret – mainly so the Americans wouldn’t learn they were spied on – and to have the Joint Intelligence Committee gather up any useful intelligence that might be aliens. [7] The money was dredged up, at considerable effort, to start up the Commonwealth Rocketry Group with Australia, South Africa, India, and several colonies [8], with plans for rockets and satellites to be launched by the early 1950s. The idea was to find a ‘smoking gun’ that could justify a more overt response. Once again, a change of government occurred. While the Conservatives kept both initiatives going, the CRG was believed to be for national prestige only – as only Atlee’s own diary recorded the real reason [9] – and while every Tory PM supported the idea of sending the union jack into space, that didn’t always translate into the right type of funding or institutional help. Worse, it led to various sackings from both Churchill and Eden when the Group wasn’t performing well enough. The intelligence gathering continued but, as nothing concrete showed up, became little more than a curiosity. [10] No institutional memory remained. It was not until 1959 that anything changed but the general public would not be aware of this for many years to come.  -- [1] First noted by US and Soviet spy planes, finally explored in 1968 by Boston University. ‘Dyer’s City’ is protected as a UNESCO World Heritage Site. [2] Large amounts of work have been done debunking this myth – essentially, there is too much evidence that humans could indeed build pyramids and that, if anything, the ‘Gate People’ picked up the idea from the Egyptians. For an in-depth debunking, the seminal text is “People Figured It Out” by Dr Steve Smith, University of Chicago Press (2012). [3]Three of them have been confirmed as Greys. It is unknown how many others were genuine sightings but estimates range from four to twelve. [4] The Gate is currently being studied at CERN. [5] Veille de Nuit was created by a former Sky Watch Unit man, Henry Beaumont. He moved to France (where his relatives lived) following personal bankruptcy in 1927 and made many false claims about his Unit work to the French government in the hope of getting work out of them.  The documents left behind by Veille de Nuit were dug up in 1968 and published as “The Night Watchmen” (1969), but most of it is fraud and exaggeration. [6] Stalin kept the knowledge to himself and several NKVD men. When he died, the knowledge was lost to even Khrushchev. [7] A comprehensive summary of this period can be found in “Reds and Green Men: United Kingdom Counterintelligence, 1945-1968” by Nicholas Rankin (2011). [8] Ghana and the Federation of the West Indies stayed in after independence. Tobias Buckell argues that the Rocketry Group was a key reason for the Federation remaining together until 1996 in “Mitigated Futures” (2003). [9] For more information on the declassified origins of the Commonwealth Rocketry Group, seek out Stephen Baxter’s “Secret Origins of the CRG” (1992). [10] In America, the CIA, Air Force Intelligence, and the FBI – Hoover was angry at being left out – had an institutional memory but their memory was that they had to show up the other. USAF’s Project Blue Book would repeatedly find CIA and FBI men were sabotaging their intelligence gathering and in one notorious case in 1954, it turned out the FBI had ‘flipped’ two airmen. - Available on Amazon.com, .co.uk, and all others..

(Cover by Vanessa Ellis)