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themurphyzone · 3 years ago

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Nova Ch 11

AN: This is gonna be the last of the set-up chapters. The story will start snowballing (see what I did there? Heehee) from the next chapter on.

This chapter includes an art piece I requested from the talented @plutonis, and I’m so glad I can finally show this off because it contains some very gorgeous colors.

AO3 Link

Ch 11: Spectrum

Terran Date 2015.4.28

Yesterday, Pinky showed me one of his favorite pieces of media to thank me for the story of Heikro var Silda, even though he cried for fifteen minutes because of the tragic ending. While indeed sad, I’m proud to say I remained steadfast and controlled my emotions upon revisiting the story. And while I told him it wasn’t necessary, he insisted and I acquiesced to his demands.

That’s how Pinky introduced me to The Lion King. Once again, I remained strong even when the emotional distress threatened to override my logical mind. It was...rather difficult, I’ll admit. We watched the sequel afterward, and though I’ve created five different charts that list the plot points in order, I cannot come up with a satisfactory sequence of events that connects both movies into a cohesive narrative.

Moving onto real life matters...Pinky seems to be under the impression that I will be a permanent resident of the lab.

Celestial bodies above, what use is my intelligence if I’m trapped among heathen, dimwitted fools who can’t tell the difference between left and right! I refuse to be a lab rat, made to do the so-called dominant species’ bidding. Snowball and I shall be taking over this planet and progressing their backwards society far beyond their wildest dreams! That’s what we came here for, and I will not be sidetracked again.

As for Pinky...well, his imagination can make up some personalities for his inanimate object friends once I leave. He doesn’t have any shortage of those. The newest addition to the crew is an eraser nub with the moniker of ‘Gummy’.

Signing off for now,

The Brain

o-o-o-o-o

Brain saved the new transmission to an encrypted, password-protected file. None of the scientists were technical experts, so the odds of discovery were miniscule or nonexistent. He only had five audio files in total, a meager amount compared to the hundreds of transmissions he’d made back on New Selene. The pointer hovered over the Delete All button. He didn’t have a reason to keep making transmissions when he was leaving the lab behind in just a few days.

Still, he hesitated.

Maybe he could leave it as a memento for Pinky. But even a basic level of encryption and case-sensitive password would remain far beyond Pinky’s capabilities.

Perhaps it was best to leave the issue for another night.

He logged off the computer and joined Pinky, who’d surrounded himself with Gummy and the rest of his inanimate object friends as he played a board game called Monopoly. Though Brain had looked up the rules and goals of the game during his online session out of curiosity, he didn’t really understand the appeal or mass marketability of such an unbalanced game.

Although, given the number of different versions of Monopoly out there, creating and selling his own version of the game with the title of Brainopoly could prove to be a viable plan.

Pinky was playing as if there were four players and not just a free-for-all against a nickel, button, and eraser. It became disturbingly obvious that Pinky was either overly generous or just woefully terrible at mental math, because he continually doled out the wrong amount of money from the bank or his own meager cash pile.

And Pinky was far better off if Brain cut in now, because there was no chance that anyone else was catching up to Gummy, who owned the most lucrative properties and had the largest amount of money.

He had to stop anthropomorphizing these objects. He was starting to think like Pinky, and that was an extremely distressing thought.

“You’re losing to an eraser,” Brain said. Pinky only had a few fives in currency, and the three properties he owned were all flipped over and mortgaged.

“Yeah, Gummy’s just very good at this game! Narf!” Pinky said as he rolled the dice for Mr. Button. ��It’s so nice of him to let us sleep in his Marvin Garden Apartments though. Otherwise we’d be homeless!”

“Nice indeed,” Brain replied. For his peace of mind, he didn’t dare press for more details.

Pinky threw the dice, then moved the bucket token seven spaces, landing on the Luxury Tax space. “That’ll be seventy-five dollars, Mr. Button,” Pinky said as he gathered the money, which only totaled sixty. And Mr. Button’s four properties were all mortgaged. Pinky realized this too. “Oh...you don’t have enough. Poit.”

Any normal player would’ve tossed in the towel right there, but Pinky wasn’t a conventional player by any means. He frowned, scratched his head, then picked up his own pile of fives and tossed them onto the sixty, bringing the amount to seventy-five, with two leftover fives for Mr. Button.

“You can have that, Mr. Button!” Pinky chirped as he dumped the luxury tax money in the middle of the board. “With a little more for the bus!”

Pinky had completely knocked himself out of the game.

This was supposed to be an extremely competitive game for families and seasoned professionals, right? Though the rules of Monopoly appeared confusing and controversial to most players, he was certain that nobody would willingly lose with such a reckless method.

Well...maybe it was just a fluke. Pinky was only playing against himself, so if he wanted to give up the money to something he was making the decisions for, that was his choice.

Besides, he couldn’t watch this game much longer.

“I’ll be your next opponent,” Brain announced. He’d never played before, but the basics seemed simple enough. And the math involved was basic arithmetic he could do in his sleep. “Reset the board at once, Pinky.”

Pinky’s tail wagged as he gathered up the houses and hotels and tossed them back into the box, then settled down as he skillfully shuffled the Community Chest and Chance cards. From the way he hummed and twirled around, an outsider could easily mistake Brain for a playmate instead of an opponent.

Brain quickly read over the instruction sheet, then divided the game currency into a starting amount for himself, Pinky, and the bank.

“Can I be in charge of the property cards, Brain?” Pinky asked as he organized them by color.

“Yes, but I shall handle all other banker duties,” Brain said. “Listen closely, Pinky. I’ve looked up stories about Monopoly games going on for a long time with no definitive winner, so we’ll stop the game when one of us runs out of money, or if chance has favored you or I enough that we can place a hotel on the board.”

“Chance always has a problem with favoritism,” Pinky said as he moved the horse token to the Go space. Indeed, chance hasn’t always favored members of either of their species, but it could stand to be more merciful during a board game. He hugged the horse token to his chest. “Anyways, Pharfigtwoton is always my choice! What’s yours?”

Brain didn’t understand how anyone in their right mind would want to play as a wheelbarrow or bucket, and the only pieces that interested him at all were the ones that resembled modes of Terran transportation. In the end, he chose the battleship.

He was tempted to call it the Conquistador Two, but he didn’t want to follow the trend of naming random objects.

“Good one!” Pinky said as he pushed the ship over to the horse token. “A gorgeous ship like this needs a name...so I hereby dub thee Battley McBattleface!”

“We’re calling it the Conquistador Two, and that’s final,” Brain snapped.

“The Conquesodor Two,” Pinky agreed.

They tossed the dice to decide turn order, and Pinky won that battle easily since Brain had the misfortune to roll double ones.

On his first turn, Pinky managed to land on St. Charles Place with a high roll. He happily shelled out the money required to buy the property. “I’m putting a nice dog park here!” he declared, placing the unused dog token in the magenta space above the property. “Now Pharfigtwoton can give rides to all the puppies!”

Brain didn’t know if Monopoly required players to create their own storyline, but it certainly made the game more interesting and baffling at the same time. He rolled the dice, sighing when he could only advance to Reading Railroad.

He hoped it wouldn’t be a trend for Pinky to receive high rolls while he was stuck in the first half of the board.

But he quickly changed his mind once he paid up for Reading Railroad and read through the card information. Just like any real life war or corporate strategy, the key to his victory would lie in controlling the flow of transportation and goods!

Pinky landed on New York on his next turn, rambling about taking all the puppies to New York for a double decker bus tour of the city as he slid a stack of bills to Brain. Brain sighed and tossed an extra twenty bill back at Pinky. He wished Pinky would pay more attention to adding properly than the make-believe puppies.

Brain rolled the dice and moved his battleship to Virginia, claiming the property so Pinky couldn’t control one-fourth of the board this early in the game.

“Brain, can I have a house?” Pinky asked as he drew a Community Chest card. He read through the card and grinned. “Awww, I got second in a beauty pageant! Thank you, everyone! It’s such an honor! Oh, and it says I also won ten dollars.”

“You don’t meet the conditions required for a house, Pinky,” Brain said, giving Pinky a ten. He didn’t care about the fake beauty pageant, just that money was either gained or lost depending on luck of the draw.

“Oh, I’ll keep them off the board,” Pinky promised. “I just want a house for Terry to live in.”

He held up the dog token, who was now apparently called Terry.

“Fine, but don’t mix your ridiculous fantasies with the board,” Brain sighed and tossed a green house at Pinky, which smacked him in the head when he didn’t catch it in time. Pinky laughed it off and coaxed Terry to stand next to the house.

Houses and hotels. His Internet searches on the Clarkes led to tons of websites on the Terran real estate market and hotel industry.

Which reminded Brain that he hadn’t shared his research into the Clarkes with Pinky yet. There hadn’t been enough time during the day, where the incompetent scientists poked and prodded them. And in Brain’s case, tried to figure out where the antennae came from.

Their hypotheses, and he was being exceedingly generous when he described their speculation and conspiracy theories as hypotheses, amounted to claiming a Terran mouse and insect had reproduced together.

“I’ve brushed up on the Clarkes so we can properly impersonate them at the party. According to-scrik!” Brain hissed under his breath when he landed on New York and had to pay Pinky.

“Sixteen please!” Pinky chirped. “All proceeds will go to buying toys and treats for good dogs in need!”

Brain grudgingly gave up the sixteen. Probability was not on his side tonight. “As I was saying before cruel fate reared its ugly head, the man I shall impersonate, Anthony Clarke, is an esteemed real estate and luxury hotel mogul, with a net worth in the billions. His success is rooted in savvy, ruthless business against competitors. It appears that he and Lamont are old college acquaintances, which we can spin to our advantage. And...yes! B&O Railroad!”

He claimed the B&O Railroad for himself, and Pinky wrinkled his nose. “I wouldn’t ride on the Body Odor Railroad even if you pay me in cheese,” he said.

Brain rolled his eyes. “The temptation for cheese is too powerful for your empty mind and bottomless stomach.”

“You’re right, Brain. It’s too yummy.” Pinky licked his lips. “So does that make me Mrs. Zoey Clarke then? Unless he divorced her already. I haven’t kept up with them in a while.” The butler on the phone had made a similar comment, thoroughly expecting ‘Mr. Clarke’ to divorce his spouse by the end of the week.

“So you’re aware of the Clarkes,” Brain said. He rolled the dice, and chance immediately sentenced him to jail. He had to push his battleship all the way to the jail space.

But all of this divorcing nonsense was trivial to his goals. Hardly worth a footnote.

The objective was to infiltrate the party, mingle with the guests to throw off suspicion, then steal the military weapon and take over the world, not involve himself in a Terran’s relationship drama.

“Ooh, tough.” Pinky clicked his tongue in sympathy as he bought Waterworks. “But everyone knows who the Clarkes are. Didn’t you see anything about all those divorces when you looked them up?”

“I’m more interested in his business ventures than his messy personal life,” Brain replied. “All this talk about divorce is simply incidental. But now I digress. Escaping jail so I may continue my conquering campaign is of utmost priority.”

“Doubles! Doubles!” Pinky chanted as Brain threw the dice. A two and three faced up, but no doubles. Pinky deflated, but only for a moment. Then he picked up a fifty. “Here, Brain. I’ll bail you out.”

From Brain’s brief skim over the rules, he didn’t recall a single one that allowed players to bail each other out of jail. He wanted to refuse and tell Pinky to focus on winning for himself, but obtaining Pennsylvania Railroad, which he’d missed the first time he’d passed through this section of the board, was just too tempting.

Brain took the fifty from Pinky, put it in the bank, then moved his battleship out of jail and used his draining resources to buy Pennsylvania Railroad. Only afterward did he realize that he’d been steadily losing money every turn and hadn’t gained anything since the beginning of the game.

Contrast to Pinky, who rolled a twelve and skipped over the last fourth of the board, placing him squarely on the Go space and guaranteeing himself a free two hundred. Then he rolled a low number and bought Mediterranean.

A poor investment, given that it was hardly worth anything. But Pinky didn’t think so.

And he wouldn’t stop cooking up new fantasies either. “Now we can host a beach jubilee for your welcome home from jail party! With hot dogs and beach balls and those big umbrellas and-”

Brain lobbed the dice at Pinky so he’d quiet down and allow Brain to formulate a strategy in peace.

Perhaps a pass around the board without purchasing anything would be necessary. He had to rebuild his financial resources again. The downside was that Pinky could potentially take the spaces for himself, but it was entirely possible that he’d miss some of the open spaces too.

So he did just that, finally lucking out when a Community Chest card sent Pinky to Reading Railroad.

But Pinky was incapable of keeping his mouth shut, and soon he was back on the topic of the infamous Clarke divorces.

“-so I think Zoey is number eleven, and I know they all blend together, so when I confuse them I just remember divorce, beheaded, died, divorce, beheaded, survived!”

Brain stared at Pinky, praying to all the ancient Selenian gods nobody believed in anymore that Snowball didn’t have him take the identity of a murderer.

“Oh wait no, no...that’s King Henry, not Clarke. Must’ve mixed them up, poit. Sorry.”

Brain threw another green house at Pinky, nailing him in the shoulder. Pinky yelped, but once he realized he had another house he immediately thanked Brain because that meant Terry’s friend could move next door.

Since there was little point to dissuading Pinky entirely, Brain focused on his game strategy instead.

It was mostly repetition anyway. Roll dice, move piece, board event, repeat. Perhaps it would be considered tedious and monotonous, but the storylines Pinky improvised were what truly made it fascinating, even though Brain could only follow about half of it since Pinky created plotholes within the fantastical yet mundane place named Monopoly City faster than the speed of light.

According to Pinky, he and his sister co-ran an enormous pet supply shop attached to a humane animal shelter next door to the dog park. Meanwhile, Brain was conductor of a magical train and seeking the mayorship because the corrupt mayor was involved with an evil cigarette corporation who wanted to diabolically sell their products to innocent children.

And while Pinky certainly had a knack for improvisation, the matter at hand was that Brain couldn’t resist buying Boardwalk, but he’d used up a third of his money and Pinky wasn’t landing there to make up for the deficit. But Brain also had Baltic, the least valuable property, and Pinky had Park Place, which Brain desperately needed since neither of them had houses on the board yet.

This wasn’t going to be a fair trade for Pinky, but it was the best chance Brain had to etch out a victory. He was going for it.

“Park for Baltic so we can finally build some residences,” Brain said, sliding the card over to Pinky.

And to his surprise, Pinky jumped at the opportunity. “Sure, Brain! If you’ll trade me Oriental for Marvin Gardens. We’re gonna open a Chinatown district!”

He’d be giving Pinky control of the first quarter of the board, but the allure of the most expensive properties was far too tempting to pass up.

They swapped properties, then paused the game to set up their houses. Brain didn’t have enough money to buy houses for all his properties, so he set two houses on Boardwalk and hoped he could deal a staggering blow to Pinky’s finances. And even this decision was costly, for he only had $180 left.

Pinky set four houses on Baltic and clapped his hands together. “They’re beach houses,” he explained, and didn’t bother putting houses on the rest of his properties even though he could afford it.

Brain kept his mouth shut. Best not to give Pinky ideas. So he rolled the dice and got doubles.

Luxury Tax.

Scrik.

Now he was down to $105. But he’d pass Go on his next turn, so he could obtain an extra two hundred and hopefully skip this portion of the board.

Then he landed on Baltic.

He slowly looked at Pinky, and Brain couldn’t tell if Pinky was being perfectly innocent or just very, very good at pretending to be perfectly innocent. “That’ll be $320 please,” Pinky said.

Including the two hundred from passing Go, he’d only have a grand total of $305.

And according to the conditions he’d set, he’d lost the game through losing all his money.

“Can’t pay it,” Brain sighed. “Congratulations, Pinky. You’ve bested me.”

Pinky giggled and threw his play money in the air in celebration. “Aw, thanks for playing with me! I’ve never played Monopoly with anyone before. Never been able to get the board to Pharfignewton’s stable without the play money flying all over the street. It took me a long time to pick it all up. We should definitely do this again, Brain! Troz!”

But there wouldn’t be a next time. No matter how much he wanted to be victorious in another match against Pinky.

“Yes, we should,” Brain forced out, willing his racing heart to calm down so he wasn’t caught in his lie.

Pinky beamed, and Brain only wished it wasn’t so difficult to explain.

o-o-o-o-o

Terran Date 4.29.2015

Tonight, we shall seek appropriate outfits for the masquerade ball. I have been informed that my jumpsuit is not considered formal attire and that we will need to shop for proper clothing. However, I will be bringing my jumpsuit along since I will not return to the lab, and I require my conquering outfit to carry out our plans.

Pinky knows a place that may contain what we need. He’s spent the last two hours finishing his hat for the Kentucky Derby and has proudly shown off the finished product to me. Though I’ll admit that the result can only be considered a hat if one is generous with their definition.

I have not been able to contact Snowball. I can only assume he’s making the necessary preparations on his end.

Signing off for now,

The Brain

o-o-o-o-o

They stood in front of an enormous building with bright neon letters, impossible to miss even with his direction-challenged companion. Thankfully, it was only a few blocks from the lab. After the scientists strapped him to a machine that tested centrifugal force, he didn’t have the energy to walk much further.

“Welcome to Toyz ‘B’ We, Brain!” Pinky exclaimed, and Brain cringed at the horrendous grammar of that name. “It's the most wonderfulest toy shop ever!”

Wonderfulest wasn’t a word, but Brain was given no time to inform Pinky of that fact before Pinky dragged him to the entrance, where a large, cartoonish statue of a Terran bee stood off to the side, greeting customers with a cheerful wave of her magic wand.

“So that’s the mascot, Becky Bee,...let’s see, those are the shopping carts and the baskets and those machines that give you washable tattoos-”

“Focus on the clothing, Pinky. Not all the extraneous material,” Brain reminded him as they entered the store. Unlike their disastrous mall trip, Brain had brought along a source of money, an ACME credit card one of the scientists had carelessly left at their desk after purchasing a chair online.

They had a right to use the card as ACME employees who never got paid for their hard labor in experiments. And he promised Pinky he’d give it back once they were through purchasing the necessary items, so it didn’t catch on that pesky ‘no stealing’ radar.

Based on Pinky’s descriptions of the store, he expected an interior full of wonder, excitement, and interesting objects designed for enjoyment for young Terrans.

Instead, everything was a sterile white, yellow, or black. Rectangular kits of building blocks of all shapes and sizes sat neatly in a row, their price tags dusty as if they hadn’t been moved or cleaned in some time.

Dozens of bee models hung from the ceiling rafters, all of them sharing the exact same dead stare and pose. The whole setup was rather unnerving, and Brain averted his eyes.

He spotted two workers at the registers. They scrolled through their phones, not noticing Pinky’s cheerful greeting as he skipped past them. A third worker called out in alarm to them, and they suddenly dropped their phones and picked up rags, repetitively wiping their counters in circles in a poor attempt to appear busy.

The only one who acted like they were in a store meant for entertainment was Pinky, who oohed and ahhed and zigzagged all over the place to get a look at all the toys.

“Brain, look at this Barbie convertible! It’s so sparkly!” Pinky exclaimed before darting off to admire the box art on five-hundred piece jigsaw puzzles, then crawled onto the lowest shelf to hug a life-sized chihuahua plushie. “Narf! This one’s a cutie! And I also like the polka-dotted lizard, that green unicorn, and that rainbow koala looks really soft too-”

Brain grabbed Pinky’s tail, yanking him out of the shelf and onto the floor.

“This store’s already eroding whatever’s left of your mind,” Brain said, dragging Pinky away from the stuffed animals.

Pinky propped himself up on his elbows, humming as they passed aisle upon aisle of action figures, balls, and building blocks.

It was strange how they seemed to be the only customers here. Shouldn’t there be more snot-nosed brats running amok or haggard parents corralling them so they didn’t destroy everything with their grubby hands?

Still, perhaps he shouldn’t complain.

It was a relief that he didn’t have to worry about people trampling him underfoot for now.

But the peace didn’t last long, since Pinky suddenly peeled away in a completely different direction, forgetting that Brain was hanging onto his tail. Though he tried to dig his heels in, Pinky was too fast and the floor too slippery for Brain to bring them to a halt.

Then Pinky stopped on his own, and Brain only caught a glimpse of a metallic table leg before he crashed face-first into it, his nose smarting from the impact.

“Sorry, Brain,” Pinky said sheepishly, and there were five upside-down images of him. Brain swatted at the one in the middle, but his hand hit empty air instead. He shook his head to clear his vision, and all but the Pinky on the far left vanished.

Pinky didn’t stay put for long, darting past Brain. He hauled himself up the table leg and onto a light blue tablecloth. “You have to come up and see this, Brain!” Pinky squealed, peering over the edge of the table, his tail wagging beside him. “There’s an entire fence made of Legos here!”

Brain sighed, wondering if it was an exercise in futility to get Pinky to focus on the task at hand. “This is the last time I’ll repeat myself!” Brain shouted as he climbed up to retrieve Pinky. “We’re here for the clothes and-”

Though Brain only took fifteen seconds to ascend, Pinky managed to don a cropped, checkered top that showed off his slender stomach and a very short blue skirt in that short timeframe.

“Well, what do you think?” Pinky giggled and twirled in circles, the skirt flying in a graceful arc around his waist. “I could go square dancin’ in this, pardner! Yee-narf!”

Realizing he’d been staring at Pinky’s exposed stomach rather than making proper eye contact, Brain quickly turned away and pretended to find a row of small toy cars interesting. Next to the toy cars, there was a menagerie of small, plastic animals penned in by a colorful fence.

Part of a garden themed jigsaw puzzle served as a lawn under his feet, the pieces leading up to an enormous pink dollhouse.

Pinky took off the clothes he’d tried on, neatly threading a bent wire through the crop top and skirt and hanging them on a piece of string that served as a makeshift clothesline. There were five different clotheslines, each stocked to the brim with a variety of colorful articles.

Brain thumbed through the selection, though he didn’t feel an attachment to any of these pieces. While these clothes were designed for toys, most of them were still too big for him.

Finding something that would fit would be more difficult than he realized.

There was a large empty space past all the clotheslines, but it seemed it would be filled in soon enough. The display had all the signs of being a work in progress, and Brain couldn’t help but wonder who had the patience to put all this together. Certainly not the bored workers at the registers.

It was a welcome splash of creativity from the rest of the dull store.

“Poit. This is exactly how I imagined my dream home to be,” Pinky said in awe. He walked up to the front door and popped it open, revealing a spacious interior. Brain followed Pinky inside and they explored the first floor together, which contained a kitchen, living room, and a playroom.

“I really like the coloring on those kitchen cabinets, and the fireplace is a great touch! Very retro. And the kiddies will have a grand ol’ time in the playroom,” Pinky said as they climbed the staircase to the second floor and walked through two bedrooms and a bathroom.

“Marble countertops would make the kitchen and bathroom more refined,” Brain argued. Really, did Pinky want any visitors to think uncivilized brutes owned the house? “But the fireplace is a welcome touch.”

Pinky shrugged as they entered the master bedroom. “It’s fine as is. Now if the backyard was bigger with a dolphin-shaped swimming pool, that would be really, really amazing!”

And Brain preferred marble countertops, but since he wouldn’t be getting everything he wanted, neither would Pinky.

Brain sat on the large bed that took up half the room, the fluffy covers soft and welcoming. But they were on a mission, and future world rulers didn’t roll around on beds in an undignified manner, no matter how tempting it was.

Pinky threw open the closet doors, revealing more clothing inside. “Oh, these pajamas are lovely!” he said, pressing a yellow nightgown close to his body.

“Anything that would suit our purposes?” Brain asked. In hindsight, doing some research into what people wore for masquerade balls would’ve been helpful. He didn’t know why it slipped his mind. Perhaps Pinky’s scatterbrained traits were contagious.

“Hmmm, it’s all pajamas and casual wear,” Pinky said, flicking through the different articles. He closed the doors and reopened them, as if the formal wear would magically appear if they were out of sight. “No suits for you or the porpoises, Brain.” And he’d been so hopeful too.

“Maybe we can find something in the aisles,” Pinky said.

A sensible suggestion, for once.

Brain tried not to appear reluctant to leave the bed, but necessity demanded it. As he stood up, the fur on his neck pricked, his ears twitching towards the large window in the bedroom.

An odd sense that he was being watched came over him, and when he turned to look at the window, he saw a Terran’s eye peering into the balcony.

They stared at each other.

Then the eye blinked.

And Brain was suddenly very, very glad Snowball wasn’t here to bear witness, or he’d never hear the end of how he’d leapt onto Pinky’s back in his moment of panic.

Pinky yelped, and so did the Terran outside the window. There were several loud thuds, followed by a frantic apology.

Brain released Pinky, rubbing his face to get rid of the blush as he ran down the staircase and out the front door.

“S-sorry!” a young woman stammered as she bent down to pick up several packages of toys, only to lose her large glasses on the floor in the process. She wore the standard uniform of the store. “I didn’t think anyone would be inside! I thought one of the furniture pieces fell over, that’s all!”

Pinky hopped down from the table, picking up the woman’s glasses and pressing them into her hand. “It’s okay!” he chirped. “You scared us good, but now we can laugh about it! Oh, your name tag says Sharon! What a lovely name! I’m Pinky, that chubby alien up there is Brain, and we’re going to a party this weekend where we’ll raise awareness for the plight of frosted animal crackers!”

“That’s not the event’s objective,” Brain corrected, and he had no choice but to let Pinky come to his own conclusions. Stealing the secret weapon on Lamont property would remain classified information as promised. “And if you call me chubby again, I shall have to hurt you.”

Sharon took her glasses from Pinky with a tentative smile, then let him climb up her arm and onto her shoulder. “Zort! You have very good taste in Polly Pocket dolls!” Pinky said, peering down at the packages in her hands. “Do you collect?”

Sharon blushed. “I, um, have a lot of Beanie Babies at home. I’m not really interested in Polly Pockets, but they’d fit much better in this display than a standard Barbie.” She glanced at Brain. “I’m sorry, could you please move? I’m putting a few things in that area.”

Brain moved out of the way as Sharon carefully opened the packages. Then she placed several small tables and chairs in the empty space next to the clotheslines, bending the dolls’ legs into sitting positions and placing them on the chairs. She worked slowly and diligently, taking great caution to not knock anything over or break the items.

“Did you make all this?” Pinky asked. “It’s amazing!”

“Y-yeah, I did. The display, I mean. Not the toys.” Sharon didn’t look at Pinky as she straightened one of the Lego fences. “Store’s been on the decline, and because there’s not really much to do, I’m trying to create a few displays to generate some interest. The toys in this one were supposed to be thrown away since nobody’s buying them, even on clearance, but it just seemed so wasteful.”

She was resourceful. It was a valuable trait, but she seemed more embarrassed than anything.

“Take pride, Sharon. It’s an excellent use of parts,” Brain advised.

Pinky nodded eagerly. “And you’re saving the toys from the evil furnace! I’m sure they’re very grateful to you when you’re not looking!”

“You...you really like it?” Sharon lifted her glasses and wiped a tear from her eye. “Nobody’s ever really noticed my efforts around here.”

“Well, they should!” Pinky declared. “I’ll tell them so myself!”

Sharon smiled as Pinky hugged her face, then rejoined Brain on the table. “Thanks, but I don’t think you came to this store just to invade a toy home.”

“No, we didn’t,” Brain said, seeing his opportunity and seizing it. “We require formal clothes for a masquerade ball, and unfortunately, we haven’t seen anything of interest yet.”

“There’s plenty of interesting things in here, Brain,” Pinky said. “Like the busybody bees up on the ceiling!”

Apparently they had two very different definitions of interesting.

“Well, I can bring out some items from the back,” Sharon offered. “We had to pull the entire line of formal Zuma Ben accessories last week. Some parents found the outfits a little scandalous for their kids, so now the accessories are just going in the trash. But maybe you’ll find something to wear from the pile. Be right back, guys!” She walked away, her steps growing slightly more confident.

“Real Zuma Ben accessories?” Pinky clasped his hands to his cheek. “I’ve never worn anything like that before!”

“It’s just a name,” Brain said. He didn’t see why Pinky was treating Zuma Ben’s name like a sacred object. “As long as we’re dressed to impress, the name doesn’t matter.”

“I just think they’re pretty,” Pinky replied. “And I like looking at them, even if I can’t buy anything. Still, I’m really happy with the clothes I have now.”

But Pinky had a sizable wardrobe. Those clothes had to come from somewhere.

“So how did you obtain your clothes if you never bought them?” Brain asked.

Pinky smiled. “The scientists. They’ll drop clothes into my cage, which is really nice of them! One time, I put on this pretty sundress they gave me and I started itching really bad. I was jumping around like a tiny monkey and I managed to make them all laugh! I must’ve been quite the sight!”

Pinky laughed at the memory, but Brain was more disturbed at how the blatant act of humiliation didn’t affect him in the slightest. Then the laugh faltered and restarted at a higher pitch.

No, that initial assessment was wrong. True, Pinky could withstand many things, but not even the most resilient being could tolerate the sound of mockery for long.

Should he say something? Was an ‘I’m sorry’ sufficient? Was there any act of comfort that didn’t involve unnecessary physical contact?

Brain wanted to be decisive, but dozens of scenarios played out in his head, and none of them led to a satisfactory outcome. Tell Pinky to cease his laughter, embrace him, talk about the weather. He didn’t know.

Emotions led to nothing but trouble.

“Quit staring,” Brain snapped when Pinky wouldn’t stop watching him like he wanted something.

Pinky’s ears fell, but Sharon came back before the pang of guilt could fully settle in Brain’s stomach.

“Thanks for waiting, guys,” Sharon said as she dumped the accessory packages onto the table. “See anything you like?”

“All of them!” Pinky declared, happily tossing a three-pack of formal dresses into the air. He tried tearing it open, but the packaging wouldn’t give. Sharon helpfully tore it open for him, and Pinky made a happy, grateful sound before pulling a sparkly purple dress over his body. He twirled around. “So how do I look?”

“Lovely,” Sharon giggled as she pulled out her phone. She set it against the Lego fence, allowing Pinky to see himself in the camera app.

“I’ll put this as a maybe,” Pinky said. “But I have to give all the dresses a chance too!”

He tried four other dresses on in quick succession, and all of them went into the maybe pile.

Meanwhile, Brain searched through his choices of men’s formal wear. He wanted the best possible option for successful infiltration, but he didn’t know much about Terran fashion. His nose wrinkled at a powdered blue suit with far too many ruffles. He was fairly certain that wouldn’t garner respect on any planet, so he pushed the offending pack away from his other options.

The pure white suit would get stained too easily. He needed something darker. That one was out.

“Hey Brain, what about this one?” Pinky asked. He now wore a long sleeved lime green dress, which Brain found extremely tacky and unappealing to the eyes. Not even Pinky could salvage that monstrosity. Yet in Pinky’s hands, there was a black suit with a white shirt underneath. Not extravagant by any means, but since the coloration was similar to his conquering attire, it was the most probable choice by far.

But while Pinky was comfortable with changing in front of others, Brain wasn’t so keen on the idea.

“I require privacy,” Brain said. He took the suit from Pinky and went inside the house, shutting the door behind him and ensuring the shutters were closed.

Then he removed his gloves and jumpsuit, shivering from the cold air as he laid the items over a chair. He put on the new set of pants first, then the white collared shirt, and finally buttoned the jacket over his abdomen.

Well, it was comfortable. And it hid most of his stomach too, which was also a positive. But he needed to see how it looked in the light before making a judgment call, so he rejoined Pinky and Sharon, who were playing with different filters on her phone while Pinky wore a magnificent feathery pink dress.

“Now you really look like a flamingo,” Sharon laughed as Pinky changed the filter to sepia, the image now different shades of tan. Pinky blew a kiss to the camera. “This one’s my favorite so far,” Pinky declared with a graceful curtsey.

And the sleeveless feathery dress did seem to match his personality much better than all the other dresses. Flamboyant and quirky, but inviting and friendly as well. A darker pink feather boa was draped over his shoulders, and purple feathers fanned out from the back of his neck. A light green choker was wrapped around his neck. Then Pinky added a matching headband with a light pink tuft to complete the ensemble.

“That will certainly make an excellent first impression on the partygoers,” Brain said.

Pinky changed the phone filter back to normal with one hand, playing with the feather boa in his other. “Egad, you really think so?” he exclaimed. “Hold on a sec, Brain. Where’s the rest of your outfit?”

“Rest of?” Brain echoed. “This doesn’t require anything else.”

Pinky shook his head and dug a red bow and matching sash out of the clothes pile. “You need a few splashes of color, Brain! Or you’ll just end up a sad wilty wallflower!”

“They’d really match your circles,” Sharon added.

Well, he’d always looked good in red. It was a bold, attention-grabbing color.

Brain draped the sash over his shoulder and fastened the bow around his ear, checking himself over in Sharon’s phone. Then Pinky and Sharon started giggling for some odd reason.

“What?” Brain asked. He was presentable at a formal event now, wasn’t he?

“You’re kinda wearing it wrong,” Sharon admitted.

His ears flattened from embarrassment. Selenians typically wore practical jumpsuits with minimal accessories, and none of their databanks ever mentioned Terran outfits. They must’ve found it unimportant.

“Don’t worry, Brain. It’s an easy fix! May I?” Pinky exclaimed.

Brain nodded his permission, and Pinky removed the bow from Brain’s ear and carefully fastened it underneath his collar, taking great care to not pull the bow too tightly around his neck.

“So this isn’t a sash. It’s a cummerbund and you wear it around your stomach,” Pinky explained as he demonstrated the proper way to wear it. It was relieving to know Terrans made accessories that would hide the slight bulge, and Brain donned the cummerbund correctly.

The accessories really did match his orbs. For the first time, he was dressed to the nines and it was a glorious feeling indeed.

“Aw, you’re both so spiffy!” Sharon exclaimed. “Mind if I put a photo of this on the Twitter page to boost some interest?”

“We’ll return the favor,” Brain said. She deserved some reward for helping them out anyway.

Sharon turned her phone around, ready to snap the picture when Pinky suddenly darted out of frame. “Hold on! Narf!” he cried, shoving a small blue butterfly-themed mask into Brain’s hands and flipping a pink feathery mask over his face. “It’s a masquerade ball, you know!”

While Brain’s mask only covered the area around his eyes, Pinky’s face was mostly hidden by his birdlike mask, leaving only his bright blue eyes exposed.

“Doesn’t that tickle?” Brain inquired as Pinky stretched his boa out for a picture.

Pinky shrugged. “A little. But I don’t mind!”

“Smile for the camera, you guys!” Sharon grinned.

Brain didn’t smile, but he stood in front of the toy house while Sharon snapped pictures and Pinky struck a different pose with every shot.

Pinky’s laughter rang joyously in Brain’s ears.

He would leave that sound behind in just a few days. But it was a small price to pay for the world.

End AN: Maybe this chapter is a little disjointed, but oh well. Sharon is based off the toy store worker who helps the mice in Brain’s Night Off.

I tried to do the math for the Monopoly game and even pulled out my Monopoly property cards so I could get the amounts correct, but if anything is inaccurate I am hereby excused from responsibility because I am a writer and not a mathematician. Yes i use that excuse every time but it’s true.

Brain's outfit comes from the tuxedo he wore in the reboot's Future Brain episode. Pluto designed Pinky's outfit herself (somehow we both were thinking lots of pink feathers for Pinky) and deserves all the credit for it cause it's so beautiful. I chose a butterfly mask for Brain and a flamingo theme for Pinky.

#pinky and the brain #patb fanfiction #patb nova

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alfredosauce50 · 3 years ago

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What makes me human [Cyberpunk! America x reader] 17

Wordcount: 3, 927 Rating: T for strong language and mature themes Chapter synopsis: Alfred woke up wanting to take things slow, all so he can enjoy the morning with you. You, however, were in a rush to regroup in the wake of a sinister conspiracy. He's too stubborn to hear the truth, so you bribe him to listen with an amorous gesture. When he does find out, he gives you an earful. Allen snaps back and rediscovers his motivation to keep him away from you. Meanwhile, Alfred's clone survived. The only person who knows isn't even meant to be on the planet, and he's helping Alfred 2.0 find his place in the world. Everyone's struggle to free themselves from the tyranny of your father continues. The war rages on. The reader is referred to as she/her.

17 - Rebirth of the old

Alfred was never keen on staying in a motel. But the appeal of it hit him like a tidal wave first thing in the morning. You were here, half-dressed and curled up next to him in a proper bed. To think this was how things used to be—he couldn’t take it. He lost something more valuable than gold! Not giving a shit about anything else? He was living in luxury.

To hell with Arthur and Zao. He couldn’t relate to their long-distance struggles and he didn’t have to. But more importantly, to hell with Allen.

The bed creaked as he leaned to you. Reaching out to your cheek, he patted it continuously. "Hey. Get up. It's past noon, lazy." Alfred kept at it until your peaceful expression scrunched up, indicating the return of your consciousness. He grinned. This marked the beginning of another good day. Snaking two arms around your waist from behind, he pulled you onto his lap as he sat cross-legged. "Up we go. Sleep well?" You lolled your head on his shoulder. "I know I did." He snorted.

You inhaled a deep breath to wake yourself up. Fluttering your eyes open to look at him groggily, he tilted his face down fondly. That, you could never get enough of. It showed in the floaty smile across your face. He chuckled, "What, you're not gonna talk to me? Don't leave me alone with my thoughts here."

He heard a scoff, the sound prompting him to pin your head with his chin. "I thought you would've gotten used to it by now. Your brain works fast." You sighed that out jokingly. Alfred hummed as if to say, touché. "Morning." You murmured raspily. However, your exhaustion was short-lived—did he say it was past noon? You tensed up in his hold and sat forward, twisting your form to him, panic-stricken.

"Dude, why didn't you wake me up earlier?"

You slid off his thighs, much to his displeasure. The quiet morning he wanted was no more. "Oh, God. What time is it?" Planting your feet on the brown carpet, you spun to him briefly for his answer. Alfred merely hung his head. Quietly. He stayed put where he was while you walked off to get dressed. So much for walking on the same wavelength.

"Well? Don't leave me hanging, Astroboy." Glancing at him over your shoulder, your expectant gaze welcomed a dash of frustration as he made no effort to get off the bed.

He looked up with a shake of the head. "I was just kidding, toots." The man then grinned mirthlessly as he slid off the mattress. "It's only nine. Don't fuss."

Breathing out a sharp sigh of relief, you placed your hands on your hips. But nine was barely sufficient for what you promised. Seeing that he never bothered getting dressed, you looked from side to side to find his clothes. It was in a heap on the desk.

"I'm not fussing. I just said we'd be back by morning. Now, work with me." You picked up his shirt, pants, and jacket, then tossed it to him one after the other. "You're making me nervous."

Alfred caught them with ease. "Don't fuss. You're fussing." Why you were so hell-bent on getting out of here was beyond him. Sparing him a brief glance of displeasure, you walked off to the bathroom without another word. His point exactly.

Sleep wasn't something he needed. But judging from where this conversation was going, his energy was about to be sapped away faster than he could deal. He appeared in the doorway while you washed your face. As you scrubbed away furiously, he folded his arms with a brief shake of the head. "You know, no matter what, we still gotta grab something to eat." He began. "So you can slow down."

You patted yourself dry before turning to him. Catching him in a hard stare, the silence became a sure-fire sign of your unwillingness. You never actually planned on eating anything before going back. But now that he mentioned it, it wasn't such a bad idea. "... Yeah, of course." You smiled. "We'll just go to FamilyMart. There's one down the street, and we can pick some stuff up for the gang... Just in case."

Just in case they wanted to chew you out for disappearing in the middle of the night. By they, you really only meant Allen. He was the only one who knew, after all. "They're probably worried, so we should give them an offering to appease them." You chuckled light-heartedly.

Alfred knitted his brows together until creases formed between them. What the hell? This was exactly what he didn't want to hear. Since when did everyone else have such a significant place in day-to-day life? "Worried? Then why did you leave in the first place?" He asked, reaching out to grab your hand. "Just hear me out. Hear me out." He squeezed you hard. His iron vice and low tone were all you needed to predict what he was about to say.

"You said you wanted to be alone with me. How come now that you are you're racing to get back? Slow down a little, won't you?"

For a night, everything could be swept under the rug. But it couldn't stay hidden forever. You forced yourself to look at him anxiously. "We have to get back to the group. We have to stick together." He shook his head with a hand over his mouth. Seeing how unhappy he was about that demand prompted you to add this. "Alfred. Just get to the car. I'll tell you everything. You'll understand, I promise."

He licked his bottom lip, disgruntled. What was there to tell? He took your other hand to hold you in place. "No. Let's not do that." Alfred asserted through a glower. "And it's Al. Al. Either you call me that or some stupid pet name. Whatever you want. Just not Alfred." You narrowed your eyes, confused by the growing temper in his voice. He never had a problem with what you called him, so why now?

"Okay, fine. Al. Will you go to the car, now?"

The man rose his brows. Did you seriously think he could be convinced? "Make me, baby. You can try dragging me out, but I'm fine right here." He took a seat on the toilet and gleamed at you sarcastically. You folded your arms and shot him a look of irritation. A few moments of tense silence passed before he continued. "Last night was nothing, you know that. So why can't we have the morning to ourselves? Just an hour? You can't say no."

You swayed from side to side. It was endlessly frustrating that he was misunderstanding everything so terribly. It was never about not wanting to be here. "Would you stop being so difficult?" You huffed angrily. He shrugged dismissively, then reached out to pull you in against your will. "I'm serious, Al. I'm not playing games with you. Something's wrong. It's about him." Hissing out the last word, you saw something change in his expression within seconds.

Christ on a bike. Alfred stared at you through his eyebrows sternly. But he decided to save the questions for the car. "... Fine." He relented, much to your relief. But something was glinting in his electric blue eyes. Was it mischief or something else?

"But I'm not moving til' you kiss me."

Blood rushed up to your face as you heat up with mortification. Was he serious? He looked serious. "What the fuck, Al. Didn't I just impress on you the importance that you get off your ass?" He remained quiet. His gaze on you was unwavering and expectant. He honestly couldn't mind if you tore him a new one for this. If shit was going to hit the fan again, he needed to set one thing straight.

Seeing that he was deciding to be stubborn, you gave in, but not without a frustrated huff. And so, you kissed him on the lips.

You gave him what he wanted. When your mouth connected to his, the force was enough to move his head back. You'd give him his money's worth—a hard, angry kiss—though he barely paid anything with boldness. But boldness was exactly what you needed. It coaxed you to be somewhat honest with yourself, as you'd be lying if you said you didn't want this too.

Alfred's eyes were as wide as dinner plates during the exchange. He didn't actually think you'd do it. In fact, the pleasant surprise caught him so off guard, he never even got the chance to return it before you pulled away. When you leaned back with a deep inhale, which was hotter than he cared to admit, he gawked at you like you just shot him. "Woah." He spluttered. His chest was whirring so crazy you could probably hear it. "I was only joking."

"No, you weren't." You muttered as a matter-of-factly. He laughed nervously at you, then fell silent. Way to go, Alfred. He thought. The second-hand embarrassment made you light up like a Christmas tree. Fortunately, it was staved off by urgency. "Car. Now." You ordered. The man watched you leave through the door while he was left reeling.

Bewilderment, giddiness, it was all there. He didn't waste any more time to scramble onto his feet and run after you. "Hey, wait! You didn't even let me kiss you back!" Alfred exclaimed, picking up his pace. The metal door slid downwards behind him to a close. "Can we kiss in the car? I'll be good after that, I swear."

"I swear to God, Alfred. Now is not the time!" Your shouts trailed off into the hallway. It was never something you could say out loud, but this—his inability to let things go—was his best attribute. It saved what needed saving.

Himself, you, and what you both were together.

Shooting up with a start, he twisted around a white bed in his bout of grave disorientation. He stopped when a sharp pain shot through his abdomen. "Ah, crap." While he hunched forward to wince, his heart pounded alarmingly hard in his chest. As loud as it was, it couldn't beat the monitor beside him that beeped away. "... Still alive, huh?" He murmured. This had to be the most sterile environment he'd been in for a while.

Perfectly polished metal walls, and not a spec of dirt in sight. There was nothing in the room except everything he was currently using. He ripped off the electrodes on his chest, then the IV drip from his arm. The heart monitor flatlined as abruptly as his movements. While he slid off the mattress, a voice interrupted his silent haven.

"If you wanna stay alive, you'd wanna take it easy."

He whipped his head to the source. "Jesus, Zao." He took a deep inhale before continuing, watching the said man tilt his head up as a greeting. Why the guy even saved him after kicking him around like a football was beyond him. But more importantly—"And would you stop doing that?" He shook his head with disapproval. "You're turning into an omen of death, always showing up when I'm fucked up."

The other unfolded their arms and walked towards him. Slowly, grudgingly. "Invulnerable or not, you're one hard guy to kill. You're just like him." The brunette remarked, causing his companion to narrow their eyes fiercely. Zao scoffed with a growing smile. So he hit the mark. "But you are him. Aren't you?"

"Don't fuck with me, man." He glowered, picking up a vacuum-sealed packet of clothes on a trolley. Alfred tore open the packaging with next to no grace. "You can start by telling me what the hell you want from me. And I'm not planning to be your guinea pig for a sick little experiment." While he spoke furiously, he hopped on one foot to put on a pair of pants. It was endlessly vexing how he seemed to find himself in the same place over and over again.

Somebody was always playing with his genetics, one way or another. This somebody being his oldest nemesis.

"I've had enough of crazy science freaks treating me like some... Extinct animal. This isn't Jurassic Park."

Zao threw his hands up defensively. "Listen, I may be a scientist, but not that kinda scientist. I don't clone people." Alfred threw on a jacket and glared at him. He was beginning to wonder if he was developing some prejudice for biology majors. And this guy, well, they were never particularly chummy in the first place. "I clone plants. Big difference there."

The blonde rose his brows and laughed mirthlessly. That certainly made him feel better. "Right, right, sorry, a farmer. My bad." He muttered sarcastically. "And what does a farmer have to do with my sorry ass? You want something from me, don’t you?"

The answer was in the question. This guy’s story was so disturbing it fazed the unfazed. "What do you have that I’d want? I already have enough shit on my plate." Zao snorted, popping a few gummies he dug up from his pockets. His scarlet eyes darkened. Catching the other in a look so foreboding, they were shocked this was the same person. "Not everybody is out to get you. I wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of saving your life just to fuck it more than how fucked up it already is. You can do that yourself."

Alfred’s eye twitched, but his mouth never opened. This guy did look like the type to have a silver tongue. The assumption only manifested into reality as they continued. And without mercy, at that. "Allen told me about you, you know?" He tensed up. His ears were ringing, almost as if his body knew to reject what he was about to get into. "You’re not from around here. You make enemies with the yakuza, and somehow, you skip half a century and end up here so they can take you on in their prime."

Zao circled him tantalizingly while he stood frozen still. It was like being tied down and scrutinized against his will. He didn’t like it. No, he hated it. But something about his lack of filter was relieving—he was forced to confront his demons in the worst way. "You’re something. Not just anybody makes it to Matsumoto’s kill list. What you did, what happened to you, even gives me the goosebumps."

His anger was too hot for him to think. But he knew better than to lash out. Not after some clarification first. While he clenched his fists until the veins began to pop, he kept his eyes on the ground. "I’ve spent the last twelve hours being well and truly fucked with, so if you don’t tell me what the hell is going on—" Alfred lifted his head for a heated stare burning with conviction. "I may as well lose my temper."

"Of course." The brunette mused, turning his feet towards the door. Once again, he was barely impacted by the threat that loomed over him. All his life, he had much bigger fish to fry.

"If you couldn’t tell, I was about to get to that part."

The Alfred everybody knew was never the first to walk this Godforsaken Earth. His mind was the same, but his body wasn’t. He was the second version of himself, having become a creation of metal parts, silicon, and everything flesh and blood couldn’t handle. What about the Alfred that stood before him? How was he any different? He never asked to be made, and now that he was, Zao thought he deserved just as much of a fighting chance.

"You didn’t have to do this." He muttered raspily with his head down. If it weren't for his ravenous hunger, he would've stayed in that hospital room. But it was too much to handle. And so, they changed locations to a ramen stand smack-bang in a commercial district. Picking up a cup of steaming miso soup, he took a small sip from the rim. "You shoulda’ just left me on the ground to bleed out."

"And let you die in one of the VIP rooms? Dead bodies aren't great for business." The other remarked, fully expecting a glare from him. But it looked like his spunk was gone. He never responded, not even with the least of a glance. Zao had to wonder if he was aggravated from his empty stomach back there. Little did he know, his anger was quelled by something else entirely. "... Want some painkillers?"

Alfred shook his head and covered his eyes with his palms. Everything still hurt like hell, but it balanced out everything on the inside. No matter how much food he consumed, he couldn’t swallow down the bile in his throat. It was only a matter of seconds before the waterworks started. Boy, he'd forgotten how good it felt to cry. "What the fuck..." He laughed dryly. To think you were responsible for this—he couldn't handle it.

The brunette rested his cheek on his hand, which he propped up with an elbow. Darting his discerning red eyes to Alfred's mouth, his brows came together. It was twitching as he forced a smile.

"Do you hate her?" Zao asked.

He swallowed thickly. "No."

"Of course you don't." He continued. The certainty in his tone caused the blonde to look up. There in all its ugly glory was his face blotched with patches of red. Zao was no sentimental person. But seeing him like this could shake anyone to their core. "I was there. She was hesitating because she wanted to give you a chance." Alfred wasn't sure how much he agreed with that statement. But there was one thing he could put his faith in.

"Doesn't change the fact that she did this for you."

Alfred fell quiet for a few moments. "What are you trying to say?"

"What do you think, Einstein?" Zao raised a dish of sake at him, almost on a celebratory note. If he was right about his assumptions, you've never shot a gun before, let alone offed someone with one. There could only be one reason for your eagerness to kill. "She's high-strung about you, dumbass." At first, he had to shake his head at how clueless Alfred was. Once it finally began to click, as evident in the blood rushing up to his face, Zao slapped a hand down on his shoulder with an amused look. High-strung, huh.

"Give it a few days. Once you're not so crippled, we can rock up to Arthur's place. She won't push you away, trust me."

The redness flushing Alfred's cheeks disappeared just like that.

"Are you crazy? They'll fucking kill me!" He whisper-shouted, slamming his fists down on the counter. "Not just the other me, but Allen too. And maybe she'll wanna do the same cuz' everyone else is."

Zao clicked his tongue. "Will they? You're stupider than I thought."

"Have you forgotten how you even came into this world? The man in the sky! Matsumoto. If they're gonna get rid of him, they need all the help they need. They're gonna have to take you in."

Allen had been up since five. He was half-awake and sprawled across the couch, struggling to keep himself conscious. He barely managed any sleep last night. Rolling his tired eyes to the digital clock on the kitchen island, he squinted at the neon figures. 10:26. You said you both would be back by morning, and it was nearly eleven. And eleven was pretty much twelve. Clearly, you were up to something. Something you were too kind to let him know what.

But he was something of an over-thinker himself.

He slid further down the couch until his head was the only thing against the backrest. Currently, he was in the bargaining stage. If you really chose Alfred over him, your best friend, big brother, and everything Alfred wasn't, that didn't mean he couldn't be in your life, right? Yeah! If you both moved out somewhere, he could be the live-in housekeeper. That sounded pretty swell.

The door slammed open. In stormed the subjects of his thoughts.

"Your dad made a clone of me, and you didn't tell me?!" Alfred exclaimed with the utmost terror. His shouting was the perfect splash of cold water to wake him up. So Allen stood up, concerned at the scene that was about to unfold before him. "And you... You shot him. How did that feel like? You said he was dead?" You marched into the living room and spun to him, eyes-wide and heavy-hearted.

Your mouth was wide open, but the words were caught in your throat.

"I..."

Alfred's nostrils flared. This was what you had to tell him? He couldn't comprehend why you put it off. How could you withhold something so important from him? He whipped his head to Allen, who didn't seem all too shocked at what he was witnessing. No way. "You told him, (F/N)? Is he in on this too?" He pointed to the man accusingly, all while keeping his hard stare on you.

"Or is this why you both were gone for so long? Why didn't you tell me?" He sucked in a sharp breath before raising his voice.

"Why didn't you fucking tell me?"

"Because I was in shock!" You snapped fiercely. Alfred froze while Allen's expression darkened. "It was just one day later. I told you in the morning, didn't I? Why are you so angry?" Allen could admit he felt pity for the poor bastard, but he was finally seeing him for what he was. A setback on your life. On his. Alfred didn't deserve half the attention you gave him. He couldn’t let Alfred have his way with you anymore. Even now, a light tremble had seized your body because of his selfishness.

You were forced to relive those memories, and the brutality of it was enough to blur your vision. But you had enough of crying. Crying over Alfred and crying in front of him. So you blinked the tears away before taking off. Alfred reached out to grab your hand, but you slipped away too seamlessly. "(F/N), wait—I'm sorry—" He begged, "—come back!"

Fuck, why did he have to be so goddamn explosive all the time? He’d been so caught up with himself, he never stopped to think how it could impact everyone else. He was never good at listening. Hell, he couldn't do it to save his life. That statement rang particularly true when he felt like he just lost something—broke something. What he had with you. In the end, his inability to let things go didn’t just save it. It ruined it.

Before he could follow you back into the guest room, Allen grabbed him by the collar and throttled him. Alfred stumbled back a few steps out of shock. He’d never seen him this furious. "Just face it, skin-job. You’re a fucking drag on her life." He seethed, shoving him back roughly. "She should’ve walked out on you ages ago. But she’s too good for you."

With one last bitter glare, he added this to rub more salt into the wound. "Once we kill that old fuck, I’m not letting you do what you please. I’ll be haunting you like your demons. One wrong move and you’re dead." Allen growled. "I even wish she never killed your clone. That way, I can kill you twice."

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xaibaugrove · 4 years ago

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An Analysis of Ellie

In honor of The Last Of Us Day, I’m finally gonna drag out this headcanon I’ve had in my drafts forever. If you choose to read this, good luck because it’s a long time.

Of course, SPOILERS AHEAD.

So, this all started with me thinking about how Ellie has suffered from survivor’s guilt ever since she discovered her immunity, when she was meant to die with her girlfriend/best friend Riley.

In that moment, Ellie had already embraced death and wanted to share it with her loved one, but that was robbed from her. She continued to live while forced to watch who might have been the first person she ever loved turn from infection. Ellie had no explanation for why that gift of immunity had been given to her. She had that gift thrust upon her by forces outside of her control. Ellie had to contend with her new existence as someone immune to the infection that had torn apart Earth’s reality, trapped in a paradox as a young teenage girl in a post apocalyptic world, until Marlene relieved her of that pressure by giving her life meaning, by giving purpose to her immunity and bestowing an important identity upon her: the savior of the human race.

Before all that, Ellie had always been just a number. She was just an orphan kid in a sea of other faceless, nameless kids in a military boarding school, without a future or special kind of destiny in a bleak world without any real meaning. Suddenly, she was a savior for all humanity and tasked with the tremendous responsibility of staying alive. She had to contend with her life having more value than others, seeing people sacrificing themselves over and over again, for her, when she had lived as a nobody for all her life until that point when everything changed.

I can imagine that that was a lot for Ellie to deal with as a teenager, a key developmental time in her life when she is just learning who she is as a person. A lot of her identity was based on not having an identity. Being trained and destined to be a nameless soldier. So when that identity was called into question, when she was smacked in the face with immunity to a virus that killed her best friend and numerous people on the planet, she needed the absurdity of her existence to be reigned in by her new title of savior of the human race.

During her journey with Joel, while the player mostly experienced the story and struggle of Joel, Ellie was struggling with her own internal issues as the secondary character. She mainly dealt with the loss of her innocence but she also still carried within her a crippling survivor’s guilt. This is very apparent after the death of Tess. In that pivotal scene in Part 1, Tess made it abundantly clear that the only reason why she was sacrificing herself was because of Ellie’s immunity, to the point of physically grabbing Ellie by the arm and pointing to the point of infection, relegating Ellie to just her immunity. Of course it wasn’t Tess’s intention to do that, but one can only wonder how Ellie absorbed that moment, another moment that helped her in defining herself. Tess wasn’t risking her life to save Ellie the person. She sacrificed herself for the immunity, the potential cure Ellie carried within her.

This assisted Ellie in defining herself by her immunity. Instead of thinking about herself and how she related to the world around her with all the contradictions of her childhood, and the relationships she formed with Joel and Sam, the people in that world, it was easier to just soldier through life with the sole goal of fulfilling her destiny. Saving the human race.

Then came the turning point in her life, when her identity was stripped from her by the very person she had come to trust and love the most.

In a way, Ellie had her autonomy taken from her by Joel and had to come to grips with that, the fact that Joel loved her and yet, hurt her deeply as a result of that love, without truly acknowledging it. In making this ultimate decision about her life for her, Joel triggered her survivor’s guilt and Ellie had no way of expressing it, 1. Because Joel lied to her about the situation and forced the conversation to be buried in that lie, and 2. Because even if she gathered the courage to confront him about the lie, she didn’t really have the cognitive ability at the time to express herself fully, to tell him exactly what was wrong with it. And maybe on some level, she didn’t really want to have the conversation and finally clarify the unspoken truth. If she did initiate the conversation, how could she be angry at him when his defense is that he did what he did out of love? What defense would an average teenager have against a parent making that statement in one of many common situations that could occur in normal settings?

Because of the decision that Joel made, he was able to be content with his surrogate daughter, living his best life in a way, while Ellie was devastated in the aftermath. And if he did notice her inner turmoil, he never addressed it. She was probably subtly carrying around that guilt with her for years. It might have even bothered her or made her hesitant to indulge in the many positive aspects of being alive: developing friendships, romantic relationships, normal childhood things. It wasn’t until Ellie was allowed to stew on it, contemplate everything and allow the guilt to fester within her that she was able to finally muster up the courage to have that difficult conversation with Joel.

In yet another pivotal scene, this time in Part 2, she gave him another chance to confess to what she suspected was a lie for multiple years when she was met with another trigger of her survivor’s guilt, during the reluctant excursion she embarked upon with Joel in search of strings for the guitar he made for her. In that scene, she questions him, counters his excuses and challenges him. Ellie gave Joel the chance to be honest with her. And his choice was to dig his heels in deeper, lying to her face once again. When watching Ellie’s expressions after Joel silenced her protests, so much can be seen in the way she looks at him for a moment.

She looks at him and thinks of how many things he has done to make her happy, out of love for her, and the immense contradiction she feels with those acts of love when compared to the greatest pain he inadvertently inflicted on her as well as the continuation of that pain through him perpetuating the lie. She gave him another chance and he betrayed her trust again. When Ellie looks away from Joel, her expression then reveals her innermost thoughts. Her eyes search the void between them to see that Joel will never admit to the lie and the only way for her to reinforce what she believes is the real truth is for her to seek out the answers herself. So she does.

When he did finally confess to everything, it broke her with not only how indifferent he was to it, but how he had destroyed any chance she could have of fulfilling her purpose. It possibly even reaffirmed the suspicions in the back of her mind that questioned his love for her due to how much he had hurt her without apologizing even once for it and how much he had taken from her in the process. The validity of all their past interactions were suddenly called into question as well, because although Joel did those things to make Ellie happy, every happy moment was always undercut by the tremendous amount of guilt she carried that outweighed the happier moments for her as her entire life was worthless to her, from the moment Joel removed her from that hospital.

After that revelation, her sense of self was thrown into limbo. Ellie severed her relationship with Joel and went back to Jackson with no idea of how to truly carry on with her life and live with herself after that. In order to appease herself in some way, she regained some type of control in navigating their relationship from that point on. Before, their relationship hinged entirely on how Joel wanted to interact with her, with him approaching her to progress their father-daughter relationship after he removed her agency by making choices for her. Post their argument at St. Mary’s, it’s important to note that Ellie assumed control and eliminated that progression entirely. A consolation prize, a reclamation of her agency in life. But it was never enough.

Regardless, things continued on like that for some time, but then something happened that shifted the trajectory of Joel and Ellie’s relationship. On a night when Ellie attended a party, she happened to find herself possibly feeling grateful for being alive when her longtime best friend expressed interest in her and made an advance toward her.

After Joel intervened in a conflict between her and a dumbass bigot, she angrily went to confront him. She continued to exercise her control in their relationship by coming down hard on him. Her anger about everything was very apparent during their confrontation later that night and one can see that she still felt like her life was technically meaningless without her death for the sake of a cure for the salvation of the human race. During that scene she finally expresses exactly how she feels, what she hadn’t been able to articulate for years.

It’s important to note that before she says any of that, Joel disarms her. Joel asked her about the simplest of things, if Dina was her girlfriend. Then he placed an importance on her existence, by saying that Dina would be lucky to have her, which I believe Ellie thought about for a split second. She ruminated on her feelings, on how a potential romantic relationship with Dina made her feel happy to be alive, as it wouldn’t have been possible if she had died in the hospital. And this thought, that Joel could have been right to save her, that she could possibly agree with him, caused her survivor’s guilt to spiral and she lashed out at him with all the emotions she felt since he first agreed to smuggle her across the country years ago.

Then, in a turning point in their dynamic, Joel is finally forthright with her when he responds to her frustration by stating that he would do it all over again. As a result, for the first time ever, Ellie feels as though she can finally understand his motivations and the validity of his love for her. In his honesty, he tells her that her life does have value to him, even if she can’t see that herself. And although she will never forgive him for his transgression or fully understand it because she doesn’t see her own value as a person aside from the potential cure she carries within herself along with her immunity, she realizes that she can’t stop herself from wanting... From wanting to live, from wanting to experience the joys of life, wanting to just be human. Joel introduces a new purpose to her life, to simply exist without purpose and be herself and find value in her life as just a person living it. She can’t erase the past and change Joel’s choices that directly affected her in the end, but she can choose to try his suggestion. To live life, despite her guilt and despite how afraid she feels to do it. This late night moment of vulnerability between a father and daughter opens the door to them possibly repairing what was broken 4 years ago.

Her entire world is then shattered when Abby slams that door shut by killing Joel. Just when Ellie was setting down the path of finding the strength to move on and repair their relationship. Her survivor’s guilt was triggered and sent into overdrive by this event, because once she discovered that the people who killed Joel were ex-Fireflies, she came to the conclusion that Abby killed Joel in retaliation to him removing Ellie from the hospital and killing any hopes of a cure, along with all the Fireflies in the hospital. This essentially caused Ellie to believe that Joel was killed because of her in a roundabout way, as he would have still been alive if he hadn’t saved her, further enforcing her belief that her ultimate destiny in life was to die in that hospital. In Ellie’s mind, Joel died for a pointless reason, because she viewed herself as worthless.

Since she and Joel were the only ones who carried the secret of what really happened at St. Mary’s, there was no one else who could blame her or punish her for his death. Abby punished someone who didn’t deserve the blame and let Ellie go, leaving her to deal with the aftermath and that survivor’s guilt. In Ellie’s mind, it should have been her, but there was no way for her to have swapped herself in Joel’s place. So she punished herself in a different way. This sends her down her path of addiction to self-destruction.

Ellie had no way of punishing herself for her immunity for all those years, for surviving while others died for her. Abby provided an outlet for this desire. Ellie pursued Abby under the guise of getting justice for Joel but more can be ascertained from her constant push to find Abby, in her constantly doing things that go against her better nature, committing horrible acts and torturing people, debasing herself and pushing away those who love her or even putting them in danger while simultaneously traumatizing herself all at once. With every murder she committed, with every wound she sustained, she was punishing herself for being alive.

Each wound she suffered during that pursuit was like a high for her, an adrenaline rush. Each time she damaged her mental state even further with a new murder of one of Abby’s friends, she reinforced the belief that she deserved all of this for surviving. She deserved all the pain for being the cure, for being immune and benefiting from it while the world and everyone in it suffered. This is why Ellie can’t let go, even after her first encounter with Abby.

It was easy for Ellie to spiral in that self-destructive cycle. She punished herself for Joel’s death by pursuing Abby, which caused her closest friends to suffer because they were connected to her hunt for justice. Even when it all seemed to be over and Ellie tried to change. Tommy nearly died and wound up crippled and separated from his wife because of her and even JJ wound up without a father due to Jesse dying while helping her in her pursuit of Abby. This all contributed to her revisiting the same destructive path when Tommy accused her of not following through after all he had lost for her. Tommy started her self-punishment with that accusation. And once Ellie had the chance to think it all over, it was easy for her to return to the same bad habits. This is why she leaves and continues to pursue Abby, steeling herself against a near-fatal abdominal injury, doing whatever it takes to get to her, lying to herself this time, by telling herself all the while that it is in service of Joel. To repay his life that was taken from him. To even out the injustice.

Ellie realizes this lie when she is mere seconds away from exacting her revenge by drowning Abby in the ocean. Joel’s face flashes across her mind, of him during that night when he told her that her life had value. She realizes in that moment that killing Abby will not bring her peace, because the motivation behind the act is a lie. It will not give her life value or meaning, or purpose. Because her life already has value. Outside of a cure, outside of her immunity, outside of her saving humankind. Her life has value because of who she is, not what she can give to the world. And Ellie finally realizes that she must accept this to be whole. Killing Abby won’t help her do this...so she lets her go. She watches the boat leave as she sits in the ocean tides ebbing and flowing around her, thinking of how broken she is, how much she has lost and if she can bring herself back from the brink to find value in the meaningless existence she believed her life was for so long.

When she revisits the farm and contemplates all this while holding a guitar that she’ll never be able to play again, she recalls that memory, when Joel reminded her of her value. In that final scene, she realized that Joel was the first person in her life who didn’t see her for her immunity. Joel saw Ellie for who she was and saw value in her as a person. To such a degree that he was willing to risk all of humanity to keep her alive. She was then able to forgive him and know that he truly did love her for her, something no one else had ever done before him. And if he could love her for her, maybe she could learn to do the same.

#the last of us day #the last of us #tlou #the last of us part 2 #tlou2 #ellie tlou #joel tlou #riley tlou #dina tlou #headcanon

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calliecat93 · 3 years ago

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ST: The Next Generation S3 Watchthrough Episodes 22-25

The Most Toys: Dear TNG writers, I know that the show has been over for about 30 years now and this is therefore redundant to say, but… can you please quit doing bad things to Data?! He doesn’t deserve bad things! So Data gets kidnapped by a manchild/lunatic to add to his ‘collection’. Kinda reminds me of that two-parter in Superman: TAS that introduced Lobo… except Fajo somehow pisses me off even more than the bad guy there. Kinda makes me think of the bad guy from The Squire of Gothos in TOS except somehow more detestable. At least that guy was more or less a spoiled child, Fajo has no excuse. Anyways, Fajo’s obsession with Data comes of as… insanely creepy. It gives me very bad vibes and I was thoroughly uncomfortable. Though at least Data, in his Data way, wasn’t at all complacent and remained as inquisitive as ever, so at least he maintained some sense of agency unlike in say The Schizoid Man. That all said, the episode was good. The crew’s reactions to thinking that Data was dead all made sense and scenes like Geordi and Wesley going through his things and Picard giving an order to Data before remembering that he’s not there anymore… those were heavy. And again as painful as it was to watch, Data at least trying to retain any agency was appreciated especially at the end. I’m glad that he didn’t have to kill, but seeing him finally put Fajo in his place was especially after he killed Varria as callously as he did was extremely gratifying. Another solid episode overall… but again, please let Data have happier things up ahead. 3.5/5.

Sarek: You can only imagine how wide my eyes got when I was going down the episode list and saw this one. I know that Sarek has mixed reception due to the issues between him and Spock and IDK if Discovery is going to change my opinion or not, but I find him to be a very interesting character. Journey to Babel kind of had this sense that he’s a hardass not that different from his son tbh, and those similarities and being displeased with Spock’s life choices made things difficult. but Sarek did still care about him, IDT he’d have gone through the effort of going to Kirk in hopes of recovering Spock’s katra when he had no reason to believe that Spock did the transfer and even outright saying at the end that his logic is more or less impaired when Spock is concerned if he didn’t, and The Voyage Home had him outright finally tell him that he made the right choice and that he was wrong in the way only Vulcans can say things. There was just kind of this feeling that he realized that he had been wrong and regretted it and wanted to make amends… but didn’t know how and it took Spock dying to finally do so. He’s not necessarily a good parent, a lot of Spock’s issues are due to him not understanding his struggles, and yeah more or less disowning him for several years was shitty, but he’s not even close to the worst and he at least tried to make it right and I can respect that. If anything though, Sarek was at least shown to be a capable ambassador and genuinely loved and was good to Amanda. So seeing him in TNG and thankfully still played by Mark Lenard, I was interested to see what they’d do with him and how he’d interact with the new cast. The result?

Sarek, did hiding your heart condition in Journey to Babel teaches you nothing about revealing vital medical information?! Is this just a Vulcan thing?! Anyways, the revelations here were… sad. Sarek has essentially the Vulcan version of Alzheimer’s which is causing him to be unable to control his emotions. Which for a Vulcan… that has to be outright horrific. Not to mention it’s causing rising, unprovoked violent responses from the crew like Crusher outright slapping her own son. To no one’s surprise, Sarek’s the reason why, albeit he’s causing it unintentionally. While Mark Lenard has been excellent as Sarek alll across the board especially in the films, he gets to do a lot more here due to Sarek’s unstable emotional control and he is just fantastic. The whole confrontation with Picard was truly excellent acting from both him and Patrick Stewart. Sarek truly feels unhinged and it is both horrifying and just sad to watch especially to how dignified and composed he was in TOS. The mind-meld with Picard may help in the short-term, but... it’s likely inevitable that he won’t last much longer. My only real complaint is that Spock and Amanda are saved as a brief mention and technically not even by Sarek but by Picard enduring the aftereffects of the mind-meld, though it does reflect Sarek’s mindset/emotions. Seriously Picard-as-Sarek reflecting how much he loved them and regretting not being able to ever truly express it or outright say it… it’s just heart-breaking, thoug it does confirm everything I had already thought so that’s good~ Still, this was a great episode! I’m glad to finally have some Vulcans again, Sarek was very well done, and the entire episode is very well acted especially the previously mentioned confrontation and everything involving the mind-meld especially after when Picard loses it. I know that Spock will show up at some point in TNG so I hope that this episode comes back up because Dear Lord please allow Spock that closure before he has to be sent to AOS. Regardless this was excellent~! Thanks for reaching my expectaitons TNG~! 4.5/5.

Menage a Troi: Oh great, another Lwaxana episode… albeit she actually has my sympathy in this one cause a Ferengi is pursuing her. I might find the woman annoying, but considering what we know of how Ferengi treat women, no one deserves that. So… if anything I am fair or at least try to be, so I will say that Lwaxana is better in this episode. She’s still obnoxious, but with the aforementioned horrid way that Ferengi treats women (seriously the nudity part was an utterly unnecessary show), refusing to be treated as property, and her genuine love and concern for Deanna make her much more likable. She certainly didn’t deserve to be treated the way she did. Troi being sick of being talked down to as a child and her mother butting into her romantic life no matter how well-intentioned instead of just letting her take it at her own pace and when she’s content as she is now is very relatable as well. Look I’ve grown to like Riker/Troi and I’m all for them getting back together… but they should do so if and when they’re ready, not be pushed into that direction. Still overall, didn’t care for this one. It’s better than Lwaxana’s first two episodes, but still makes me uncomfortable in other ways that aren’t funny, and the fact that she’s still pursuing Picard and he gets forced to go along with it at the end (albeit Patrick Stewart getting to go full Shakespearian was the funniest part of the whole episode) still doesn’t sit right with me. The Wesley subplot was also utterly wasted, feeling like it was just shoved in there and he did nothing to deserve promotion to Ensign. Yes, he gave up his chance to go to the Academy when he has his aha moment, but he did barely anything all season or the last two seasons to have earned it, or at least shoving it into this episode made it feel undeserved. Wesley himself is fine as a character, he’s nowhere near as bad as some make him out to be, but the concept of his character is just… not suited for ST. But the was funnier than the past two and Lwaxana has her better traits higlighted such as her intelligence and acting skills. If anything she does genuienly love her daughter and is not a helpless victim. Majel Barrett also owns it, I can respect that. 2.5/5.

Transfiguration: Okay, so we have an injured alien known only as John Doe wo is both amnesic and has some impressive regenererative abilities. He also turns out to have mass power such as powerful healing abilities as his body is udnergoign some kind of rapid change,. Meanwhile, Geordi gets some kid of sudden confidence boost and is finally making progress with his love life. If I’m gonna be honest… I don’t have anything to really say on this one. It was fine, but I don’t really have any thoughts regarding it otherwise. There’s this sense of spirituality in there and the ending makes it feel like religious opression. The Zalkonians killing their own kind who undergo the transformation just to maintian their power… yeah that was… yeah. Anyway, it was fine. I felt bad for John Doe and Crusher was good. All I’ve really got to say for this one. 3/5.

Alright, one more to go! Next time I’ll only be covering two episodes, the S3 finale and the S4 premiere. But they’re the same story so…. I’ve heard good things about this one, so we’ll see if it delivers.

#st watchthrough

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jq37 · 4 years ago

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The Royal Report– A Crown of Candy Ep 13 Family Ties

Regroup

Welcome back to Candia, y’all.

As the cast tries to get a handle on their giggles from whatever shenanigans happened off-screen between episodes, the PCs land back at the monastery of the Spinning Star. All the rescued civilians are grateful and the monks help to patch them up. The group is a little worried their enemies will follow them through the standing stones but only a high level Candian magic user would be able to do that so they’re probably fine. They also learn that all the weapons they stole are basically +1 to attack magical items--not useful to them but maybe for their allies.

Spearia tends to Joren (and we’re cursed with the phrase “wrist milk”) and then goes Full Mom Mode on Liam with a several minutes long hug. Theo joins the hug so he can ask Spearia if she knows any other Druids that could do that transportation (she doesn’t know of any in Buzzybrook but there could always be others she doesn’t know about) which turns into a discussion about the SPF. Ruby thinks the SPF is on their side but the others are more wary and Rina, as before, is specifically against her. She says the SPF gets her powers from the Bulb and the sharp division between the two is just a kind of distraction from the bigger issue. Ruby calls it a conspiracy theory (though Theo says Lazuli believed something similar) and stalks off. Amethar runs after her but, en route, stops to have a conversation with Joren.

He tells Joren that Rina is queen now and that he (as in both of them really) need to start doing the smart thing and not just the tough thing. Joren razzes him about the new attitude until Amethar says that Jet is dead which turns him sympathetic and basically gets him on board--it’s not the fight Liam was anticipating. He says that they’re gonna have to make a big show about recognizing Rina if this is gonna work and asks if they have any allies who can vouch. Amethar says the Dairy Islands are with them and they have a crazy plan that involves getting the Book of Leaves (St. Citrina’s Lasso of Truth book).

Theo runs to catch up with Joren and Amethar but, on the way there, catches Ruby and says they need to stick together. Then the three guys go and find Rina. They basically bend the knee to her and say they’re at her service. Rina is not as excited as you might think though. She accepts the endorsement while barely holding back tears, saying that she’s aware the support doesn’t come with enthusiasm but she appreciates it all the same. Then she goes with Gooey back to her contingent of followers to celebrate with them, not seeming like she’s in a celebratory mood at all.

Cumulus and Liam have gone to the library of the monastery to try and dig into the info they grabbed during the fight and Ruby goes to talk to Liam. She confides in him that she thinks this plan sucks because even if they are able to get Rina onto the throne, it still means they win on the terms of their enemies. They’re still working within the system and the people who killed Jet and killed Preston don’t pay for anything. Liam says he’s still super down for killing all of these people and he really doesn’t think the plan is gonna work. He thinks it’s going to end in war either way. They try to decipher the map but it’s hard and they recruit the monks to help work on it overnight.

Snicker-Snack talks to Cumulus and says--echoing his own thoughts--that Rina is crazy powerful and a possible heir to Lazuli’s title of Archmage. He wonders if they should swear themselves to her the way they were sworn to Lazuli. Cumulus thinks it might be a good idea and Snicker-Snack says that it’s Cumulus’s call since he’s the most senior monk.

Theo finds Rina again and asks if she thinks they’re in danger of getting ambushed by the SPF. Rina (after getting a head shake from Brennan) says no, not this night but she is worried that the SPF is working with the Bulb. She and her guys will be up all night keeping watch (and partying) so he can, “Go back to [his] family.”

Brain Food

In the morning, the monks have finished looking through all of the info the PCs stole last episode which means it’s time for a good old fashioned info dump. There’s a lot happening so I broke it into sections:

Military Movements

The south of Candia has been totally taken over by Calroy and his guys. He’s fully posted in Castle Candy and every state except for the Dairy Islands has recognized him as a legitimate ruler.

The only non-traitor Candian troops are basically all at the Great Stone Candy Mountains (bc they were on route to help Jawbreaker).

As in Ruby’s vision from Lazuli, the invasion of Castle Candy did fall apart due to discord. Specifically, it was a mix of Plumbeline’s troops and Bulbian troops and because the Pontifex held the position that there could be no Concord without all of the states of the OG Concord under the terms of the OG agreement (meaning including Candia) Plumbeline said, “Fine. If there’s no Concord, there’s no reason I have to help you,” and she withdrew her troops.

So, to be clear, Calroy did a coup. The Imperial soldiers that are there are not there to invade Candia. They’re there doing peacekeeping stuff. The non-Imperial bread soldiers are Ciabatta’s men--he went home post spy session with the girls and used the info he stole to assassinate all the obstacles between him and being dictator for life and then decided an invasion of Candia was a good way to keep the peoples’ approval. Candia was picked for no reason other than it was a sitting duck due to all the other insane stuff that’s going on (chief or which is loss of Concord protection). And the church is there cause...actually, let me start another heading for this because it’s a doozy.

The Bulbian Church

The Pontifex has decided that the Ramsian Doctrine is in full effect. The reason they’re in Candia is because they’ve called a crusade.

Kerradin has a fancy new title--Mace of the Faith--and is leading it.

She’s called open season on all Candians--not just soldiers, literally anybody. She’s calling for a full genocide. The church’s policy is, if you kill a Candian, your soul is saved. If you destroy Candian standing stones, your soul and your family’s souls are saved. It’s real chilling shit.

There’s been pushback from bishops and archbishops about the policy--obviously Candian ones but from other countries as well--saying that they can’t support this and please can she reconsider (they can’t really be more forceful than that without risking being killed themselves).

Calroy, sensing the way the wind is blowing, has sent out an official statement saying that he renounced his pagan ways and wants to be re-baptized into the Bulbian faith.

We learn that the reason the Pontifex is being difficult with Plumbeline about the technicalities of the Concord agreement and why it can’t just be back on is because she wants to stay in limbo for as long as possible so she has a chance to also call a crusade against the Meatlands--both for being so openly pagan and for the killing of Archbishop Raddica (mentioned in I think episode 3).

There was a lot of money that the crew ignored while looting last episode and that was money to be used to pay Meatlander mercenaries apparently.

Group Dynamics

So Calroy is kind of courting all three camps here. As I said before, he’s agreeing with the crusade and saying he wants to be baptized to court the church.

Cal is also saying to Ceresia that a crusade is needed to cleanse Candia and a new Concord could be formed if Ceresia were to conquer it and make it a part of Ceresia. Ciabatta in an intercepted letter says that Cal could possibly be governor of Candia as a province of Cersia--exactly what he wants.

Whenever Calroy talks about the new Concord, he mentions a Concordant *Empress* who could be anyone, which also gives Plumbeline what she wants. He’s basically like that Always Sunny clip about playing both sides so he always comes out on top.

Everyone is planning a meeting to talk about logistics and a new Concord and all that but Ciabatta doesn’t want to meet in Comida or Vegetania after the whole deal with his name being spoken and rejected by the Book of Leaves. Cal has opened Castle Candy as a meeting place.

The Pontifex is bringing Kerradin and guards to protect her and the Book of Leaves to make sure there’s no funny business happening (ie: Cal conspiring privately with Plumbeline or something).

And, to be clear, none of these people seem to like or trust each other. It’s all a matter of being able to use each other for mutual benefit. There’s lots of evidence of discord and resentment. [To that point, here is some very dope art.]

Misc.

The various baddies haven’t been able to figure out watersteel--it seems that Alfredi left something out of her notes and took the secret to her grave. They did figure out the bread constructs though as we saw last episode.

There are notes about the Sanctus Putris which is a church doctrine that runs counter to the Ramsian Doctrine and it says that to keep the Hungry One at bay, there has to be a certain level of rot in the world.

There is a letter between Onionpatch and the Sanctus Putris dudes saying that they have located the home of the SPF (the Ice Cream Temple) and will get there tomorrow (as in tmrw from their POV).

Finally, rumors of Rina are floating around and the policy is basically, “Who cares if she exists or if she’s legit or not? If you see her, kill her.” So Emily has gone from being a huge target to...being a huge target. That’s what happens when you play two heir apparents in a row.

And deep exhale. That was A Lot.

Gameplan

Joren thinks the best plan is to get all their armies together and publicly take the knee to Rina at Manylicks to help legitimize her. Ruby, again, is against this plan because it would mean, at least on paper, being on the same side as Ciabatta. Spearia gets where she’s coming from but says it’s just to get things settled and they can always leave the Concord again once they’re back in control.

Gooey brings up the meeting everyone is gonna be at and Liam suggests getting someone from the Meatlands there so they can force the Pontifex to say on the Book of Leaves that they’re her next target, winning them an ally. Rina pipes up that she has allies in the Meatlands so maybe she can help arrange that. Jawbreaker also wants to just spread the word that Rina exists to make things more politically complicated and give the Dairy Islands (and possibly the Meatlands) a legit reason to side with them/stop the Imperials since the Concord will be back on.

Rina, unprompted, says again that she doesn’t care about the throne, she’s just anti-Bulb and pro magic. Cara and Ruby kinda glance at each other while that is going on.

At this point, Jawbreaker is fully on board with her and toasts to her as queen. Liam warns her about the target on her back but she says she grew up abused by Bulbian nuns. She can handle herself. Cumulus also officially pledges the service of the Spinning Star monks to her. She’s just picking up allies left and right.

Anyway, Jawbreaker, Spearia, and the rescued townsfolk plan to go for Manylicks to rally the troops. Spearia asks for an escort so they send Jack and his sailors to protect them. Before they leave, Liam has a heart to heart with his dad about how war changes you and forcing yourself to be hard so others get to be soft in which Joren finally calls him the correct name.

Cumulus thinks that, if a crusade is happening, the monastery will be a big target so it makes sense for the monks to gather the artifacts and hang with Rina’s marauders for a bit. They also decide to disassemble the teleportation circle once they leave so they’re more secure.

Ruby and Amethar are up on the parapets of the monastery kinda doing that thing where you’re not fully talking but just being like, “*Huge Sigh*”/”Yeahhhhh” with someone you’re close to. Cara shows up and says she’s going with Jawbreaker and his people to Manylicks while the PCs go for the Ice Cream Temple. Ruby asks how long she’s known magic and Cara says Lazuli taught her. Ruby asks why she never taught them and Cara says she was going to when they matured but since they never did, she didn’t want to give them more tools to run away with. Ruby says maybe they wouldn’t have run away so much if she’d trusted them. Cara basically takes psychic damage from that and Rina, who is near enough that she can see what’s happening, catches her attention for some sympathetic eye contact because she knows what that feels like.

Amethar asks for a moment alone with Ruby and apologies for having been a bad dad. Ruby protests that he hasn’t been one but he insists that he has and says that he hasn’t known what to do to help her process Jet’s death. Ruby says it’s not his fault and there’s nothing he can do. The fact of the matter is she was never alone and now she’ll always be alone. Amethar says that’s not true. She won’t be alone because he’s there for her and Jet still is too, though in a different way. He can’t stand watching her push her friends away at every turn. He asks her to please, just be here with them. Ruby breaks down a little and says that she had to run away as the most important person in the world to her died and the only way she can even begin to live with that is by getting revenge. Oh don’t worry, Amethar says. They will be killing *all* of those people.

Sickly Sweet

The team to raid the Ice Cream Temple is comprised of the PCs plus Swifty, Jon Bon, and Gooey (who is having some mutually confusing dom/sub sexual tension with Theo which is a sentence I hate to type but posterity is the main goal here so I don’t have much of a choice now do I). They teleport as close as they can (the monks disassembling the teleportation mechanism once they get there) and then it’s still another 2-3 hours to get there. It’s very cold, like the Himalayas and everyone takes cold damage just by being there. Rina (Invisible) and Cumulus (tied to a rope held by Theo) are up front to try and keep everyone else from triggering traps as they walk up the steps.

They eventually come upon gates in front of an arch and a hallway with a huge locked doorway in front of it. And there is a symbol of a huge spoon in front of the door. Rina passes Winterscoop in front of it and it opens. They follow her down the hallway and Cumulus triggers a trap when he takes point but Rina, holding Winterscoop, learns that if she takes the lead, she auto-disarms the traps.

As they walk down the hall, Rina sees the eyes of the SPF and hears her voice in her head, “I can’t see you, but I know you’re here.” The SPF says the temple was made by those like her (Rina) but she (the SPF) is the only one who’s been there for quite some time and her pupils narrow to slits.

Amethar sees an image of Saphria who says, “Long way from home, brother,” before disappearing.

Because of how well lit the hallway is, Ruby currently has no shadow.

Liam, as they walk, smells a quick whiff of hot chocolate and cinnamon.

They get to the end of the hallway which branches off into three directions: there’s a staircase going up to a door (marked with the Sucrosi symbol for the SPF which Ruby recognizes because Laz shows up as a quick vision and tells her and Theo recognizes as having appeared in the sky before the battle that killed Laz--Rina also recognizes it and it is the SPF’s actual name, not one of her titles, so it seems possibly magically significant), to the right there’s some weird combo of illusion and conjuration magic which makes them think that there’s a combo of true things and tricks and like maybe some of the stuff they’ve been seeing out of the corners of their eyes as they’ve traveled would be there, and to the left there’s a locked door marked armory.

Ruby uses her thieves' tools and Mage Hand to get the armory door open and it turns out it’s actually a library (which everyone but Theo is disappointed about). Inside, they find a book in Bulbosi that’s filled with with ancient spirits of the other realms--the Jolly Giant, the Hamburger Helper, and (at Emily’s prompting) Wonder Bread. It’s basically a checklist of magical spirits from the other kingdoms that the church has destroyed and further proof that Candia isn’t more inherently magical than anyplace else. They’ve just fought to protect their magic.

On the last page, there’s again mention of the Dracoria Azucar with an inverted symbol of the SPF covered in spikes and surrounded by magic and then in the middle of the page a chocolate egg which Rina tells Liam is what they’re there for.

The book suddenly slams shut and flies away. Outside, they hear the door at the top of the stairs open. They get out and walk up the stairs into this chamber at the heart of the mountain. It's a massive room with huge icicles coming down, dim light, and a ton of mist. They're kind of on a platform suspended above a bunch of emptiness. In the middle, there's a tower of frozen ice cream scoops and at the center is a small opening. Surrounding it and floating around it are huge freezer burned ice cream cones and popsicles. At the top of the tower, frozen into it is a chocolate egg (a chocolate smear inside the ice indicating that it was incredibly hot).

The SPF appears in front of them in her cute glamour bearing the mended teacup, the note from Lapin, and the heartseed Liam left for Preston. She thanks them for coming and apologizes that she can’t bring Jet back but says now she can bring them to Jet. Ruby asks what that means and she suddenly sees figures in the mist--4 adult women with a younger adult woman along with a figure that looks like Amethar’s dad. There’s a brightly colored road made of illusory light going from where they are, down into the mist. The SPF says it’s a pure Candy-only place and she can take them there. The church means to burn everything sweet out of the world forever and this is the only way to keep them safe. She’s taken a lot of other spirits there already and everyone they’ve lost and love will be waiting for them and they’ll be together forever.

Amethar openly expresses suspicion at the SPF and the SPF says she’s only using the glamour to make them feel more comfortable. Rina says she’d like to see the SPF’s true form and the SPF says, “I bet you would,” seeming ticked off that she has Winterscoop. She compares Rina to Lazuli who wanted to take everything that made Candia special and let it get used and abused by the rabble (her opinion, not mine). Look how that turned out for the Jolly Giant and the Hamburger Helper.

Ruby, in Twinspeak, asks the misty figure of Jet, “Are you real?”

The Jet in the Mist (played by Emily who is on the spot drafted by Brennan to be Jet once again for this moment) says (with the knowledge to back it up), “It’s true, but I don’t know if it’s good.”

With that answer, Ruby gives the SPF a placid thanks but no. She’s grateful that she’s been protecting the magic of Candia but they need it now to keep Candia safe. The SPF says that that’s what she’s doing. If they go into the mist, they’ll be safe. No, says Ruby. If they go into the mist, they’ll be dead. The SPF doesn’t see a difference. Safe and dead? Safe and alive? To-may-to, To-mah-to.

“Are you mad at me?” the SPF asks, childlike.

“No,” Ruby says, evenly.

The SPF says she’s only ever tried to help. She sent Lapin to protect them even though she knew he’d die and they’d lose everything because she knew they wouldn’t come unless they lost everything.

Ruby pauses for a second that feels like ten minutes.

“Did you kill my sister?”

The SPF looks slightly sheepish. “Would you have come here if she was still alive?”

Ruby does the only thing she can do. She pulls her bow.

Looks like someone just jumped Ciabatta in her to-kill list everybody. See you next week!

Things I’m Concerned About

I mentioned this in an ask but I’m concerned Cara is about to pull a Cat’s in the Cradle--meaning, she keeps getting brushed off so I’m worried she’s gonna get really hurt and the PCs will suddenly care and it’ll be too late. This fear is based on nothing except what I would do to be mean to my players. I have a semi-similar fear about Rina but I’m gonna let that sit for a bit.

Ruby. Girl. I know what you’ve just been through but...girl. Please be smart here.

I never love a battle map you can fall off of. That always gives me anxiety--especially when your enemy can fly so it’s not equal footing so to speak.

I feel like “concerned” is a bit of a weak word to describe my feelings on a genocide but I named this section during episode 1 before I knew where things were going so yeah. Bad.

Everyone the group hates being in one place is hypothetically very good but also has the potential to be VERY bad depending on how it plays out.

I really wanna know what the Sanctus Putris is planning is to at the Temple. How aligned are they with the mainstream church? Their main tenant runs pretty counter to what they’re doing right now. Are they potential allies? Why would they be communicating with Onionpatch, known close confidant for the Pontifex? Were they trying to sway her with something there?

Five More Things

Woah! Oh man, that whole last scene with Ruby and the SPF? The music? The tension? The constant, calm No’s from Ruby until the SPF Said That and then the instant switch into Terminator mode? What a scene ender y’all! When I watched it again for this recap, I knew what was coming and it still bodied me. The immediacy with which Ruby/Siobhan grasped the, “This is death” thing was so impressive to me. I loved everything about that last 5 mins. So it seems like the SPF is the one who set up that letter. She might have been posing as Cara in that moment, or maybe it was a full illusion--that seems to be her school of magic. I knew this Fae was shady but man! Can you imagine the world where Lapin is still alive at this point? Would love to know his take on this.

There’s a bit I didn’t mention in the recap when they get back initially and Brennan tries to have the NPCs overrule the PCs on the cuteness levels of the corn monster from last ep that is so funny. Nothing like ganging up on the literal god of the universe you’re playing in. Also funny is him going, “No Zac, this is good,” when he starts listing out the other house spirits/brand names. Gotta love having a captive audience for your carefully constructed nonsense.

OK, so question. What exactly is Calroy’s plan with the church, huh? Because, you can get baptized all you want, you’re still cake my dude. Is he hoping they’ll let him, what? Die of old age while slaughtering his people? Yikes.

When Swifty opened his mouth the first time I was like, “Absolutely not,” but now I kind of love him?

So we learn in this ep that all other spirits get their powers from the Bulb or the Hungry One ultimately which is interesting conceptually. “Power is neutral except for how you use it,” is cool and also generally correct imo. Rina mentions the SPF, “Working with the Bulb” at some point and do you think she means the Bulb or the church? Because the Bulb is mindless but she doesn’t necessarily know that. And if she means the church that would also be wild considering what we learned this ep.

#dimension 20 #dimension 20 spoilers #a crown of candy #a crown of candy spoilers #the royal report

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jornthur · 5 years ago

Text

“Unshaken” Chapter III

Originally posted: March 16, 2020

Arthur Morgan x Reader, Slow-Burn Romance

Summary: You save a mysterious man who is dying on a mountain. Finding out he has Tuberculosis, you use your knowledge and skills with herbs and natural remedies to save him from death and help nurse him back to health. As he slowly starts to recover, you can’t help but wonder: Who is this man? Why had you found him the way that you did, beaten and ill? Only time, patience … and perhaps love … will tell.

•••••

2 weeks later

It was mid-morning, the day was absolutely beautiful and you decided to take full advantage of it to tend to your herb garden in the small field next to your cabin. You were on your hands and knees pulling weeds and pruning the plants as the sun shined directly onto you.

The plants you grew needed constant care and were a lot of hard work. But they were worth it, you thought, thinking of all the benefits that they brought. Though it was a difficult task to care for so many kinds of plants, you still enjoyed doing it. Especially whenever you got the chance to go out and see if you could discover any new kinds of herbs to bring back and add to your garden. The hobby was time-consuming, but that was a good thing since it could get boring being by yourself when your brother was out.

But you weren’t by yourself, you thought. Arthur was inside the cabin lying on the couch in the sitting room, still recovering from his tuberculosis.

You smiled to yourself as you pulled another weed from the ground. Arthur had been getting progressively better over the last couple of weeks, and you were so grateful that his body seemed to be growing stronger and stronger with each passing day. Why, just a couple days ago he’d managed to sit up on his own and eat some canned pineapples that you’d decided to give to him. It was really good news that he was able to start eating more solid foods again.

His clothes were another matter you’d worried yourself over. You knew you couldn’t leave him in the same attire for so long, so you’d taken the liberty of taking off his old ones so his body could rest more easily. You’d left his undergarments on out of decency, knowing you could wait for Arthur to decide what he wanted to do past that point.

As you’d undressed him you hadn’t been able to help but admire that body of his. His wounds were healing remarkably well and he had no longer needed any bandages at that point, so his skin had been completely bare for your view. All that thick muscle and that weathered, sun-kissed skin …

At that point you’d forced yourself into a strictly professional state, refusing to allow yourself to look over his body in any other way but medical. You’d washed his old clothes, folded them neatly and placed them on the nightstand by his feet so he’d know where they were when he came to.

You straightened up from the ground and wiped some sweat off your brow with the back of your hand. “Dammit,” you cursed under your breath.

You’d been working ever since your brother had gone out early this morning to go hunting, and that had been at last three hours ago now. You weren’t worried, however. Austin usually took a long time on his trips, often wandering around aimlessly until he found an animal to kill. He wasn’t the greatest tracker, but he tried his best.

Several days ago Austin had returned from one of his trips with a mysterious satchel.

“What do you got there?” You’d asked as he’d brought it into the kitchen and placed it on the wooden table in the middle of the room. You’d went over to close the door to the sitting room so as not to wake Arthur.

“I ain’t too sure,” Austin had answered, taking a seat at the table as you sat down across from him. “I found it by O’Creagh’s Run near where we found that man at.” He scratched his neck. “Haven’t bothered lookin’ in it, figured it might be his.”

You’d looked at your brother skeptically, surprised at that last statement. Due to his strong animosity towards Arthur why on Earth would he not be suspicious of what was in the satchel?

Austin had confessed then, having felt pressured by your peeling gaze. “Alright, alright, I looked. But it didn’t look like nothin’ special. Just an old journal of some kind.”

Your curiosity had peaked at those words and you’d reached into the satchel to pull out the journal. It was definitely worn, but from the edges you could tell that most of the pages had been filled in.

Then you’d lifted the front cover and saw the name in beautiful handwriting.

Arthur

You had immediately closed the journal and placed it back in the satchel, your heart beating rapidly, and Austin had looked over at you questioningly. “Well?” He’d prompted.

“It has his name on the first page,” you’d answered with a shaky voice. You wanted so terribly to see the rest of what was in that journal, but your better conscience won the battle in the end and you’d closed the satchel and locked it in the bottom drawer of your desk, figuring you’d give it to Arthur once he got back on his feet.

You came back to the present at that last thought. Arthur was the first human you had ever treated … and his body was actually responding surprisingly well to everything you had given him.

You reached over to crush some dead leaves off of one of the flower bushes.

You’d been monitoring Arthur’s heart and lungs every day and you could tell the huge difference. The heart was beating regularly and powerfully now, and his lungs were taking in much more air than they had been before. His breaths were getting slightly longer every day, letting you know that they were slowly regenerating the lost tissue that the tuberculosis bacteria had eaten away at. There would be scarring left behind that would stay there for the rest of his life, but you hoped his body would still fully recover enough for him to be able to lead a normal life again.

Only time would tell, though.

He’d been in and out of consciousness for the past two weeks from all the treatments, but that was no doubt a side effect from the medicine and herbs he’d been ingesting. He was also getting better at talking whenever he was conscious, no longer having to take a breath between every few words.

Whenever he woke, you’d taken the opportunity to make sure he ate. Just a few days ago Arthur was able to sit up and start feeding himself. After he would finish his small meals, you made sure he consumed several more spoonfuls of honey each time. It was so important that he take the honey so that it would assist in killing the bacteria in his lungs and the rest of his body.

Honey was the main fighter, the main substance more important than any other in getting Arthur to heal, right next to all the other medicine.

You pondered then, thinking back two weeks ago.

He’d called you honey. At least, you thought he had? Maybe his mind had drifted at that moment, and he’d just been thinking of the sweet substance and happened to say it out loud? You couldn’t be sure … it wouldn’t make sense for him to actually call you that endearment since he hardly knew you past your own name.

But you still wondered.

There was a noise behind you, and you jerked your head around in that direction, expecting to see Austin coming back from his hunting trip.

But it wasn’t your brother.

It was Arthur.

He was fully dressed in his old attire … the same clothes you had found him in that night. A blue long-sleeved shirt with dark brown pants, faded black boots and a large black neckerchief. His chestnut-brown hair was tangled, and his beard had grown out quite a bit from the past two weeks.

He was limping out of the cabin and onto the front porch, an arm clutching his chest as if he were trying to keep himself from falling over.

“Arthur!” You got up from the ground and rushed over to him, forgetting all about your garden. Placing yourself in front of him you stopped him in his tracks, reaching out to try to steady him. “You shouldn’t be out here, you shouldn’t even be standing! Much less walking around.”

Arthur’s blue eyes looked down at you, and for the first time you noticed how truly tall he was. You realized then and there that you’d never seen him at his full height before. The man was practically a giant, standing a full head above you, your own head barely reaching above his wide shoulders.

“I’m fine, Y/N,” that deep southern voice drawled. Arthur closed his eyes in a grimace, letting out a slow breath. “Don’t you worry, now. I just need to take a walk.”

He tried to walk around you but you stepped into his path. “No way, mister, I ain’t letting you take another step away from that couch. Now you turn yourself around and go lie down.”

He smiled at you, but there was no humor in it. “Get outta my way, darlin’,” he said with a bit of venom in his voice, not too harsh but enough to have you back up a little. “I know you mean well, but I ain’t stayin’ on that damn couch any longer.”

Your face grew worried, concerned for his well-being. “You can’t possibly leave now,” you said firmly, “you still need more treatment, or you’re going to get sick again!”

He scoffed, a forceful breath shooting out of his mouth in a huff. “It’s alright, girl,” he said gruffly, “I ain’t got nowhere to go from here, so don’t you fret none.” He lifted his other arm slowly as if it weighed a ton, pointing towards the wide stream. “I’m just gonna head on down to that water over there.”

You realized at that moment that there was going to be no persuading him. Once he had his mind set on something, there was no way he was going to be shaken from it.

With great reluctance you stepped to the side, grabbing the tall walking stick that was propped on the wall, the one you used all the time when you went hiking up into the mountains to search for herbs. “At least take this. I don’t want you falling on your face, you hear?”

Arthur stared at it for a long while then nodded, taking the walking stick with his spare hand, leaning onto it as he started making his way off the porch and towards the large stream that was about sixty feet away.

“Would you like me to come with you?” You asked after him.

He just shook his head and kept going.

You watched him, feeling completely helpless as he continued to grunt in pain with each step he took, slowly getting closer to the water’s edge. He still held his chest with his other arm, his body hunching forward slightly but not stopping.

•••••

Arthur felt as though his lungs were going to fall out of his chest, but he couldn’t stay inside that cabin anymore. He needed to get out.

He remembered Y/N telling him that they were above Cerberus Falls, where the hell was that? Y/N had told him it was right before Brandywine Drop.

Finally he reached the side of the wide stream. Looking down, he took in his reflection on the water’s surface. He could see his disheveled hair, his beard had grown out quite a bit, and he looked like a complete mess, but he seemed to be in one piece.

Funny, he thought, he didn’t feel like he was in one piece. He felt as though he was going to fall apart at any moment.

Arthur brought a hand up to his forehead and grunted as a sharp pain went through his head. After several seconds, it finally passed.

He looked down the stream, hearing the roaring sound of waterfalls in the distance. He turned and started heading further down the stream, following the sound.

As he made his way over, he began to lose himself in thought.

He was still here.

Was this real?

Arthur couldn’t begin to fathom the fact that he was still alive, the mere thought of it was overwhelming to him. He tried to remember back to that night again. Damn, why was it so hard?

He almost missed his footing but caught himself on the walking stick Y/N had given him. He was grateful she had offered it to him, it definitely helped keep his ass from falling on the ground. Catching his breath, he started walking again.

Eventually he reached the top of the falls and looked out over the landscape below.

The waterfall was loud as it fell over the edge and landed onto the surface several feet below. Cerberus Falls, Y/N had called it. He almost laughed to himself, was the waterfall named that for the three separate falls it split into? He supposed it made sense, but he’d never heard of the name before.

Arthur looked out further, and noticed the familiar sight. Brandywine Drop. Further still he could see Roanoke Valley after that.

So he was truly in Roanoke Ridge, or just outside of it.

After a moment of taking everything in, he sat down right at the edge of the rocks, letting out a long exhale as he relaxed his entire body and just looked out at the land below.

Maybe this was Heaven?

He almost laughed to himself. No way, he wasn’t a good enough man to make it up there, and even if he was he shouldn’t be feeling any pain, right?

Arthur reached up and rubbed at his chest, trying to ease the aching soreness he felt there.

The air felt cool as it rushed up from below to meet him, the wind blowing his hair back slightly. He took a long, deep breath, then exhaled it out slowly.

He hadn’t been able to do that in so long. It felt so damn good. He took in the sun’s rays, feeling the warmth on his skin. The sound of the rushing water flooded his ears, and he closed his eyes, losing himself in his thoughts.

He thought of the deer again. It had been appearing in his dreams every night since Y/N had saved him. But he couldn’t fathom why, having no idea what it meant.

A haze slowly began to form in his mind, and a dark figure materialized in front of him, taking the solid form of a man. Black hair, a scarred face … Arthur saw his own hands reaching out to the figure in an embrace, placing something on the figure’s head —

John.

Arthur’s eyes shot open, his whole body lurching. He steadied himself on the walking stick as he panted, his entire body hunching forward, suddenly feeling heavy with some kind of invisible weight bearing down on him.

What the hell? Had he been holding his breath? He swallowed hard, closing his eyes as he tried to recall the image again.

The figure reappeared.

John … John Marston.

His brother …

Arthur lifted his head, looking over the vast land into the distance beyond, narrowing his eyes as if he was trying to see where John was. John … his family … where were they? Were they safe? The questions began racing in circles around his mind … then he remembered.

He’d sent John away … right before —

Another sharp pain shot through his head, and Arthur grimaced, bringing his hand up to rub at his temple. He flinched, feeling one of the healing cuts on his face with the tips of his fingers.

Letting out a groan he dropped his hand and gripped the walking stick with both hands, feeling completely lost … in a world that thought he was dead …

A tear rolled down his cheek.

•••••

You’d watched Arthur walk down towards the stream, wanting to make sure that he didn’t get hurt in any way. As soon as he’d reached it, you’d watched as he just seemed to stare down at the water.

Was he looking at his reflection? He lifted his head and looked in the direction of the waterfall.

What was he thinking about?

He started walking down the stream.

Wait, what was he thinking? He couldn’t possibly try to make it any further with the state he was in. You almost felt the need to stop him, but … you were afraid that if you tried he would only fight back, no doubt placing more stress on his body than it was already going through.

You decided to follow him, if only to make sure he was safe.

You were careful to stay in the shadows of the trees as you both gradually made your way over to the waterfall.

Finally, Arthur stopped right at the edge, leaning on the tall walking stick and looking out at the land below. Oh, God, was he going to —

Arthur just sat down slowly, his legs hanging over the edge of the cliff. He kept a grip on the walking stick as he continued to keep his other arm wrapped around his chest.

You approached closer and hid behind another tree, telling yourself you were just keeping an eye on him. Truthfully, though, you were worried for him.

Arthur seemed lost, deep in his own thoughts. He looked as if he were in a great deal of mental pain, and you almost felt the urge to give in and go over to try and comfort him. But you decided it was best to just stay back and give him some space.

After some time passed, Arthur’s upper body suddenly lurched over, nearly falling off the cliff. You lunged forward but stopped yourself as he caught his balance using the walking stick. You squinted to get a closer look … was he crying?

He looked over his shoulder, “What’re you doin’ over there, Y/N?” You were shocked to hear Arthur ask as he looked in your direction, right where you were hiding.

How on Earth did he know you were there? How could he have possibly heard you over the waterfall?

Taking a deep breath, knowing there was no getting out of this, you stepped out from behind the tree and approached him. “I was worried about you, Arthur,” you confessed as you sat down beside him, letting your legs hang off the edge of the cliff as well. “When you started walking toward the falls I wasn’t sure what you were going to do.”

You felt embarrassed, and he let out a rough chuckle. “Did you think I was gonna jump off the cliff, darlin’?”

You felt your cheeks flush, afraid to admit the truth. “Well, I didn’t want anything bad to happen to you. I’m sorry I followed you out here.”

He stared at you then smiled. “You’re alright,” He said, his voice deep. “I don’t blame you.”

You looked over at him. He looked straight ahead, but you noticed the wet trail that ran from his eye and over his cheek. You were almost tempted to reach out and wipe it away, but why?

He let out another grunt of pain, flinching and rubbing his forehead with the tips of his fingers. “What is wrong with me, Y/N?” He asked hoarsely, “Why can I barely remember anythin’?”

You worked up the courage to reach out and rub his back in an effort to try and comfort him. Oh, Lord, you thought. His back was extremely broad and the skin under his blue shirt felt warm, the muscles underneath your hand tensing up.

You shook yourself mentally. This was no time to be thinking that way.

“The medicine and herbs I’ve been treating you with have properties that may cause some side effects to certain parts of the body. They can numb the brain a little bit, effecting your memory. I’ve seen animals act a bit funny on the doses. But don’t worry,” you gave him a smile, “Your memory will start to clear up once we start spacing out your treatments. For now your body needs as much help as it can get so it can fight off the bacteria that’s left.”

“How long will that take?” Arthur asked, but he didn’t look at you. He just kept staring out at the landscape.

“A couple of months is usually the time it’s taken for an animal I’ve treated, but I’m not sure how long it would be for a human. I’m hoping for your sake that it won’t take any longer than it needs to. I’m sure you have family or friends to go back to?”

His body froze under your touch. Had you said something wrong?

“I ain’t sure of that anymore,” he said softly, his voice sounding pained.

Immediately you regretted bringing it up as you noticed another tear roll down his cheek. “Arthur?” You stared at him worriedly.

He just kept looking ahead, a small stiff smile on his face even though his eyes showed immense grief. But of what, you wondered. You turned your head in the direction he was looking, taking in the sights as well.

It felt as if hours had gone by before he spoke to you again. “I was supposed to die … wasn’t I?”

His sudden words had you looking back at him. He was staring at you again, those blue eyes of his red around the corners, as if he was trying to hold his emotions in.

“What you did, what you’re doin’,” Arthur grunted and laid a hand on his chest, “it shouldn’t be possible, should it?”

You didn’t know how to respond as those eyes seemed to stare a hole right through you.

He continued on, “The doctor I saw. He told me it couldn’t be cured.” He rubbed his chest, “I feel like I’ve cheated death … because of you.”

You looked down at your lap, unable to look at him because you weren’t sure of what to say. “I … well … there’s still a lot of work to be done, but — ”

“Why’d you save me?”

His sudden question surprised you, and you looked back up at him. “What?”

His blue eyes narrowed at you. “Why did you save me, Y/N?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but then you realized you had no idea how to reply, not sure if you knew the answer yourself. You thought about it for a moment, trying to form the words in your head. All the while you felt his piercing blue gaze, which wasn’t helping at all.

“I …” you swallowed hard, “You were dying. I couldn’t just leave you there.” There, that should be enough, right? After all, it was the truth, wasn’t it? Maybe?

Arthur was quiet for a moment, then asked under his breath, “Why do you hide it?”

You gave him a confused look, “What do you mean?”

He narrowed his eyes at you intently. “Why do you hide your skills? All this knowledge you have on plants and such.”

You smiled, letting out a small laugh at his wording. “I wouldn’t necessarily call them skills,” you said modestly. “More like a hobby. I’ve never went as far as to treat a human, like I said before. I’ve only ever treated forest or farm animals in my entire life. I haven’t really done anything else.” You looked down at your hands as you fiddled with your fingers nervously. “Honestly I’m surprised that your body has responded so well. And I’m grateful.” You blushed, surprised at those last words that had just slipped out of your mouth.

Arthur chuckled softly. “You’re grateful, huh? “ he asked with humor laced in his voice. A long pause, then he said, “Any other stranger would’ve left me up there, you know.”

You almost gasped at that. “Why on Earth would you think that?”

He just gave a small smile, looking back over the valley. “I ain’t a good man, honey. If you knew who I really was, you’d have never tried to save me.”

You tensed, hearing that word come off his lips again. Honey … You couldn’t say anything in response as you took in his expression, his stiff shoulders, the way he just looked out at the land, almost as if he were staring off into nothingness.

“Arthur … ?”

He didn’t reply.

You reached out again and tapped his shoulder. “Arthur, are you alright?”

His body jerked at your touch as if you’d electrocuted him, and you almost jumped at his unexpected reaction. He turned his gaze toward you and he relaxed, seeming to recognize you. Had he forgotten where he was for a brief moment? Maybe it was the medicine.

“C’mon, Arthur, I need you to come back to the cabin,” you stood and held out your hand in an offering to help him up to his feet, “Your body needs to lie down and rest.”

He looked up at you with disgust at the thought of going back to that couch. But finally he seemed to listen, probably realizing it was for the best. “I guess you’re right.” He grunted in a low voice as he grasped your hand in his big one.

It turned out you needed both your hands and all of your weight to pull him up, but you managed with his help. You offered to let him lean on you but he just shook his head, gesturing at the walking stick. “I’m fine, honey. You got me this, remember?”

He didn’t want to burden you with his weight, you noticed. Smiling, you nodded and turned toward the cabin, walking back slowly by Arthur’s side.

As you made your way over, you couldn’t help but finally ask it.

“Arthur?”

“Yeah?” Oh, God, that heavy southern voice of his sent shivers down your spine.

You took a deep breath, bracing yourself. “Why do you keep calling me ‘honey?’”

•••••

— To Be Continued

#unshaken #chapter 3 #part 3 #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #slow burn #romance #arthur morgan #fanfic #red dead fanfic #rdr2 fanfic #red dead #rdr2 #red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption imagine

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pinkbutterfly84 · 4 years ago

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48 Hours of Hell - Happy's POV

H - Sly where is the Doc? I wanted to say bye before I head out

S - um he's gone Happy, took Walts car think he had an errand to run

H - oh ok thanks Sly, have a good night oh and by the way you were amazing today in that plane

S - thanks Happy it was a difficult case but we did it, never going back to Chernobyl again though

Happy laughed as she walked out the garage, as she got in her truck she sent a message to Toby

'Hey Doc, Sly said you had some stuff to do call me when your home'

A few hours later Happy was home tinkering on an old engine keeping one eye on her phone, she hadn't heard from Toby and it has been 3 hours since she left the garage. She picked up her phone and called him, it went straight to answerphone

H - hey doc where are you, Sly said you were running errands but even you can't take 3 hours. Call me back

A couple of hours later Happy was shattered it had been a busy day they'd been to Chernobyl, saved the world from another Chernobyl and now the dipstick who called himself her boyfriend was awol and she was starting to worry old habits had kicked in. She would dump his arse so quickly if he was gambling again. She called him again and it went straight to voicemail again!

H - Dumbass where the hell are you i swear if you are gambling again im gonna kick your arse so far you will no longer be the only member of the team not to have visited Chernobyl. You better have a good explanation at breakfast and your buying so don't be late.

Happy went to bed fuming ready to rip Toby a new one in the morning.

The next morning Happy arrived at Kavalskis and sat in thier usual booth, Toby was late which was unusual for him, since he slept through thier first date he always picked her up or arrived early, she knew he did it so she would never feel like she did in that restaurant again. Which she would of thought was sweet if she wasn't already so pissee at him.

Happy phoned him, straight to voicemail again

H - where the hell are you Doc and why is your phone dead? I'm giving you 20 more minutes otherwise I will meet you at the garage and kick your arse there

20 minutes went by, she gave him another 10 and spent it planning all the ways she could hurt him but it was really a distraction from thinking about the reality of if he'd gone back to a casino and got himself hooked on roulette or worse beaten up by loan sharks. Happy made her way back to the garage on her bike, she walked in and threw her helmet down

H - is that hat wearing dipstick here

......................................................................................

Happy walked out the garage tears streaming down her face. She had never felt like this before she couldn't get the look of heartbreak and confusion on Tobys face off her mind.

She sat in her truck luckily she had parked it in a unlit quiet area of the road. She let it all out, she wasn't a crier but she had never felt like this before Toby was the first person she truly loved and let herself be loved. She knew he would would be hurt when he found out she was married but thought she would sit down with him alone and told him the full story, sure he would be upset but he would understand. Having to turn down his proposal, tell him at the same time and do it publicly was something she has never thought would happen.

She needed to collect herself, calm down and go back and talk to him alone.

Was Toby ever going to forgive her, what happens if he turns to gambling, what happens if he leaves her for good. She was used to people leaving her but she never had anyone she loved leave her it would break her.

Suddenly someone knocked on the window, she wiped her face and rolled the window down a touch. Walter stood the other side looking very uncomfortable

H - hows Toby?

W - drowning his sorrows in tequila refusing to talk to anyone. Why did you refuse his proposal?

H - what the hell Walt im not accepting his proposal with such a huge secret hanging over our heads. I'm going back in to tell him everything in s minute

W - Happy please you can't not yet, not until we have a solution so I can stay in the country. He loves you so much he will want us to divorce and I wil have to leave the country and Scorpion will split up

H - are you going to make me chose between the man I love and my family?

W - no I'm just asking for some time to come up with a solution so we are all happy

H - fine but I won't lie to him and I won't stop him looking if he finds out he finds out. I am going yo marry him and I won't build our relationship out of lies and mistrust

W - ok Happy, why don't you go home and sleep ill look after Toby and tomorrow you can talk things out im sure tomorrow Toby will feel differently

H - I'm not sure Walt I've never seen him look so broken, you have to promise me you wont let him out on a gambling bender he stays here or you go home with him

W - you have my word

Happy rolled the Windows up turned over the ignition and went home, she cried herself to sleep and slept on and off until Cabe called with an urgent case.

.....................................................................................

Happy followed Toby and Sly out of the garage and caught up with Toby

H - hey doc

T - hey Hap, look im really tired I don't think I've slept in well over 48 hours can we talk tomorrow?

H - I know doc I was gonna ask if you were coming back to mine, you can sleep and we can talk in the morning

Toby looked at Happy, it hurt her that he didn't immediately say yes he was always bugging her to stay over or her to stay at his but she liked a few nights a week on her own, gave her chance to think evaluate and she supposed keep some sort of distance and independence. The fact he wasn't sure about staying over shows how hurt he is.

H - come on you know my bed is much more comfy then yours

T- ok Hap but I have 101 questions for the morning

Happy hoped up into the truck as Toby walked around and got in

H - I know you have questions Doc but as I said I can't answer them all now but I will I promise

Toby leant his head back on the head rest and sighed

T - I know but you gotta know how much this is killing me

Happy didn't answer she drove them both home i silence. When they got home they both headed straight to bedroom getting unchanged they both got into bed. Toby sat up slightly as Happy lay on his chest with her arm over his stomach, she could feel he was uncomfortable and that was something she had never felt before.

T - I need to ask why, why keep it from me I get you wont tell me who but st least tell me why the secrecy

H - when we were friends it didn't seem appropriate, then as we got closer and closer I got scared, scared you wouldn't understand scared you would leave and then it got harder and harder to bring it up as the consequences git more real the more I fell for you

T - Happy you must know it would take a hell of a lot more then this for me to leave you, I have never loved anyone like I love you, your my world and I wanted to spend thd rest of my life with you

H - wanted to? Does that mean you dont anymore

T- of course not i want to live every day with you but we need to get over this first before we can plan our future

H - I know Doc i really sm sorry I couldn't bare the thought of you leaving me too

Happy coluld feel the silent tears dropping onto Tobys naked chest

T - that will never happen, you can't get rid of me that easily but im not going to lie this is going to take some time and I will be looking into who you are married too

H - Toby!

T - look if you wont tell me you leave me no choice

H - fair enough but I will tell you soon I promise I just need some time

T - I love you Happy and im sorry I said I rescinded the proposal when we get this mess sorted I plan to get back down on one knee

H - ok Doc and I promise no more secrets when you do, I love you too

T - I'm knackered now, sleep now talk more tomorrow

H - I never thought I would hear a time when you want to delay talking

Happy leaned up and they kissed softy

H - night Doc

Happy lay there listening to Toby sleeping what a 48hours, she needed to sort this mess out with Walt and she just hoped Toby would leave the investigation work to real detectives and give her the time she needed......

#team scorpion #happy quinn #toby curtis #scorpionedit #cbs scorpion #happy x toby #jadyn wong #toby x happy #quintis #eddie kaye thomas

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monchikyun · 4 years ago

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22. god knows I’m trying

(this will have a prequel :)

Gavin has made a promise. Not to anyone special, not one that holds great meaning, only a silly vow to his old self. He has decided to become a person who’s just a little bit better, a little more deserving. It’s all Connor’s doing, he can’t go about denying that. But there’s something more behind it, something he can’t yet put his finger on. Maybe he has gone a smidge crazy over the past week. But it’s all been worthy because the pain in his chest has been replaced with something soft, something he’s too afraid to call hope.

When he came to work this morning, he received a greeting from a few people who usually don’t even bother looking at him, including Connor. It still feels surreal to him, being able to talk to the android without the need for antagonism. They are yet to have a proper conversation with each other, but beggars can’t be choosers, and he’s grateful for the small victory he’s earned. He could make this work. Perhaps soon he won’t have to fake those smiles anymore.

It has been easy to fall into a routine of burying himself in work and not acting like an asshole whenever the opportunity arises. All it takes is a hefty dose of effort a day and he’s good to go. He would never put himself so far out of his element if it wasn’t for the reward of having a nice chat with his favourite android almost on a daily basis. These small talks help him to learn things he’s never realised he wants to know about Connor. Like that he is staying at Hank’s because he fell in love with the old St Bernard and because the lieutenant feels like he owes Connor something, or that he really enjoys people-watching, creating a story in his mind for those who stand out to him.

“What about me?” he asks him once when he feels comfortable enough to hear the answer.

“I always thought that you’re more than what you allow others to see… or I wanted to believe that, for some reason.” Connor’s lips curl up and he swears that a swarm of butterflies invites his stomach. He doesn’t admit it to himself yet, but it seems that being friends with the android is never going to be enough for him.

“So… is there something in me worth digging for?” It’s ridiculous how nervous he gets every time they’re this close.

“The probability is high, or that’s what my calculations are saying.” And he fucking winks at Gavin, like he wants him to get a heart attack.

He has been fighting with his emotions from that point on, every new word they exchange, every accidental touch, every kindness he receives from that plastic menace is making it more and more difficult to hold himself back. And he is not sure what he should do about it. If only there was a way to find out whether Connor feels the same or not. His courage is just not that advanced, yet.

Gavin looks at the little succulent on Connor’s desk that he gave him one day as a thank you for helping with the endless heap of paperwork he almost drowned in if it wasn’t for Connor. It’s not only that, though. He’s grateful for basically being forced to reduce his vileness, for everything good that has been born because of it.

It has cut away from him a lot, and there are days when he can’t bear it and slips up, puts the ugly back on display. But even then, he still tries. He tries so that Connor will like him, he tries for the sake of the little scrawny boys who had his world destroyed by an evil man pretending to be his father. It’s still there, the light, the shining star, deep inside of him, hidden behind the countless layers of dirt meant to protect. He feels pathetic for letting it settle all those years, for not meeting someone who would nudge him in the right direction earlier. That’s why he won’t waste this chance, no matter how it might end up.

Today is one of the days he finds himself in a good mood, carefree enough to hum if he wouldn’t combust from humiliation for so much as exhibiting positive spirit. He bites down the smile forming on his lips and grabs for the steaming cup of coffee that is bound to properly wake him up. If he’s lucky. He puts it to his mouth when a hand on his shoulder interrupts his morning ritual. There wasn’t anyone in the break room when he entered, and he’s still not the most sought-after company, so it means it must be the mechanical dork since his only other friend is most likely at home sleeping. He turns around, expecting a familiar face, but instead he’s being greeted by the last person he ever wants speak with. Or see. Ever.

“I hear someone is getting a bit soft.” Detective Gardner, the man who broke his wrist once because he didn’t like something Gavin said or the way he looked at him is standing right in front of him, like an apparition from his nightmares. It was more than ten years ago, but he remembers it as if it happened just yesterday. He thought that bastard would get fired back then, but when is anything fair in this world.

“What the phck are you doing here?” On one hand, he’s so angry that he should stop talking to him, but on the other one his curiosity demands answers and he’s too restless to ignore it.

“One of my boys fucks around with the guy your lieutenant and his pet robot so desperately want to catch, so you know how it goes.”

He can’t believe he’s about to defend the android, how the tables have turned.

“Connor is not his phcking pet… or anyone’s”

Of course this maniac still has a job, that’s just how things are in his life. He’s just glad he isn’t the one in charge of that case.

“Oh I see how it is, you’d like a piece of that twink ass for yourself. That’s why you act like a little bitch lately.”

“That’s not-“

Fortunately, Gavin doesn’t have a chance to finish that sentence.

“I think your presence isn’t needed here, detective Gardner. I advise you to leave if you value your bone structure.”

He’s never wished to find himself in a situation where he had to be saved by Connor, but he isn’t about to complain about it too.

“Who do you think you are you piece of-“

“I am the man who can break both of your legs without batting an eye.”

The android leans to the rude detective and squeezes his shoulder a little bit too hard, making the man flinch with pain and fear, Gavin hopes. Was Connor always this hot or is the tension messing with his perception? He’ll have to look into that later.

After a few seconds of silent glaring, they are finally left alone.

The tension dissipates, but his chest is still heavy.

“You can stop now if you want, you know.”

Connor pierces him with a gaze so sincere it makes his heart hurt.

“Stop what?”

“Trying.”

“Nah, I’m good.”

He’s got so used to it over the past weeks he can’t imagine ever returning to his old, callous ways.

“It’s not only him, Gavin. Sometimes I overhear people gossiping about you, saying awful things that you don’t deserve.”

Yeah, like that’s new.

“So what, if their favourite past-time is shit-talking about me I’m not gonna go and ruin it for them. Sides, I have a super-strong terminator to protect me from all harm, so...”

He tries to give him a wink like Connor has done before. Obviously, he hasn’t been gifted with such charm, so he just blinks at him instead.

And Connor laughs.

He’s truly about to lose it.

“That was nothing.”

Somehow they’re standing really close to each other now, and there are is only so much restraint Gavin has in him.

“It was everything.”

Maybe he will try to make their relationship into something more beautiful too. And a little kiss doesn’t seem like a bad way to start.

@convinseptember in promise I’m trying to try :D

#convinseptember #convin #gavin is soft #connor is cunning #they deserve each other #I AM AWARE THAT IT'S VERY LATE but ..EFFORT xD

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mrssullivan · 5 years ago

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Uncharted fanfiction (young Nate and Sully)

So here it is, my very first fanfiction story :-D :). Hope you’ll enjoy it.

Story: Uncharted fanfiction

Count of words: 1717

Characters: Young Sully and Nate

Location: A hidden place in a small California town

Summary: After Nate and Sully had escaped the Marlowe’s men in Columbia they decided to lay low for a while. They had spent six months there while a lucrative job offer came...

Warnings: Dirty jokes, Story may contain some mistakes (especially with past tenses) due to English isn’t my native language. If you’ll find any mistakes, please let me know :)

Chapter 1: Small beginnings...?

With sun hidden under the horizon the air became more fresh and breathable. After another hot sunny day here – in a small city in California - the moments after the sunset were the best part of the day. Especially for Nathan Drake. He loves when the sun is going down losing its power, people are going out to enjoy themselves and he is wandering among all of it. He felt the freedom of life. 'So, the night life has begun', he thought. This time of the day used to be kinda dangerous for Nate a few months ago when he was living at the streets. But this sort of life seems to be over now. It had been six months when Nate first met Victor Sullivan. An „old man“ - he could be in his late thirties or early forties now – who saved Nate's life back then at the runaway from the museum in Columbia. 'That was a mess!', he thought while he was reaching for a ring at his chest. 'Sic parvis magna.', Nate fell into the memories. The things has developed so fast since then. After they'd escaped the Marlowe's men at the museum and becoming associates with Sully they had to disappear. Marlowe and her men had been still after them so they ended up here to lay low for a while. Thanks to Sully's friends they'd leased a small bungalow for a fine price.

A sound of church bell got Nate back to the ground. He looked up at the church clock. It's just showed 10 PM. 'I should go home!', Nate thought, so he turned back and started heading towards his refuge.

'A home...'. This word stopped Nate's thoughts for a second. Has he ever had a home? His mother had died when Nate was really young and his father had given up his hold on Nate and his older brother Sam, so they both ended up at the St. Francis' Boy's Home. No, Nate hasn't had a home at all. After leaving the orphanage and with Sam working wherever in the world, he became a „street's kid“ and started living on his own. But now it's different. Nate had to used to share his life with Sully which was difficult sometimes.

Sully is a tough guy who hasn't been living his life in a legal way either. But he can defeat an enemy in a fist combat or with a revolver in his hand. He's talkative, inteligent and it seems he must have friends all over the world, so it's clear he can take care of himself. Nate wasn't thinking about it before but it had to be difficult even for Sully. He was used to be on his own too, doing illegal jobs and now he had to look after a 15-year-old teenage. ''I said he's crazy old man“, said Nate to himself and smiled. After those months they've become a sort of friends. Nate hasn't realised it yet but Sully has become a father-figure to him.

As Nate was getting closer to the bungalow he smelled a smell of cigar getting out from the house through the open window. „So typical...“, smiled Nate. He would bet he had seen Sully with a cigar more times than without it. He unlocked the door and entered the house but he immediately regreted it and started coughing. The whole house was smoky and it was hard to breathe in there. „Sully, what the hell?“, coughed Nathan. „Is that your cigar or are you about to cook us a dinner?“, continued Nate towards a tall Sully's figure obscured in a mist of his cigar.

„Sorry, kid, I opened the window just a minute ago.“, answered Sullivan and pensively continued looking at some papers lying on the table in front of him. „Huh.“, mumbled Nate. „Or...“, started Nathan provocatively, „...you're trying to hide a female parfume, aren't ya'?”. Nate knew that he's just poked the bear but he also knew that he would get Sully's attention thanks to that. And he was right. Sully raised his head up from the papers and looked at Nate. Nathan could see both in Sully's grey eyes at that moment – an anger, which was a reaction to a provocative and ironic way how Nate had said that comment, and a shame because Sully knew very well what Nate was talking about.

Nate grinned but that last week's „accident“ was quite shocking for him too. As wise people say „what has been seen, cannot be unseen“. Nate came home that night, ignoring the world, with headphones in his ears and a walkman pretty loud. So he didn't have a chance to recognise that Sully had had „a visit“. Nate realised it when he raised his head up and saw shocked Sully with his redhead „visit“ trying to quickly cover their naked bodies under the bedsheets.

„You never stop enjoyin' that, aren't ya'?”, asked Sully irritatedly.

Nate already knew that Sully has a kinda soft spot for women but he could't understand that women have a soft spot for Sully too. 'What do they like on him?', Nathan often asked himself. 'Do they like kissing with an ashtray? Or do they like that creepy mustache?' Those are questions Nate probably will never find an answer. 'The fact is that Sully must have some kind of magical power that makes him irresistable for women.', finished Nathan his thoughts about naughty Sullivan.

„Actually, I've had nightmares after that.“, answered Nate with typical teenage provocative accent. „Goddamn, kid...“, mumbled Sullivan. He already knew that there is no chance to have a serious discussion with a teenage boy, especially when it comes to relationships with women. So he decided to change the topic. „I think we got a job, kid.“, Sully stood back from the table, grabbed the papers and sat down next to Nate. „I thought we're lying low?“, said Nate with both confusion and curiosity in his voice.

„Well, we were,“, said Sully, „but my friends had confirmed me there's no moves from Marlowe for more than a month. So I think it's time to stop lyin' low, don'cha think?“, smiled Sullivan and either did Nate. They both have had enough hiding.

„I also thought you might like this.“, said Sully and gave Nate one list of the paper. Nathan started examining the content. There was a photo of an old journal – or something that used to be a journal. It was musty, most of its lists were missing, the dark brown leather cover was damaged and dirty, still carrying a small lock on its side though. „What is that?“, asked Nathan, „Someone's childhood journal which had been lying in a mud for fiftheen years?“, said Nate and sounded dissapointed. He hoped in something bigger. „Almost,“, answered Sully slyly. Now he is enjoying the moment. „But there's one little difference. It had been lying at the bottom of the Atlantic ocean for more than seventy years.“

'What? It can't be...“, thought Nathan and looked at Sullivan disbelievengly. „Do you know Robert Ballard?“, asked Sully and Nate's thoughts were confirmed. „You mean that oceanographer who found the shipwreck of Titanic?“ „The one and only.“, answered Sully and smiled. They both were enjoying the moment, feeling an excitement in the air.

“Ballard will host a great ball,“, continued Sully, „as an opening ceremony for the very first 'Treasures of the Titanic' exhibition at the museum in New York City in two weeks. However our journal won't be a part of this exhibition and it's lock down at the museum's storage room. I've gotta friend there. He's able to provide us two invitations to the ball and with his help we'll just sneak out from that high society carnival and get to the storage room.“, Sully's voice sounded excitedly. He's been out of business for too long and he's missed it. „So, wat'cha think, kid? The client's gonna pay us well.“

That was something Nate didn't understand. „Who is our client, Sully?“, he asked.

„Why?“, Sully has never asked too many questions about the job or client. „I mean, why would anyone pay us for something what's practically useless? The major part of the journal is missing and I really doubt there's something left written on remaining lists after those years in the ocean.“, Nate wasn't trying to hide his dubiety. „Look closer.“, encouraged him Sully. Nate followed his advice and there it was. It was hard to see it at the first sight but when Nate focused at the journal's cover he finally saw it. A dingy sign – a polytope and a pair of compasses lying opposite to each other with a big letter 'G' in the middle. Nate looked at Sully with a stunned face. „You gotta be kiddin'!...The Freemasons?“ „That's why I thought you might be interested in it.“ They both looked at each other and again they both felt the same excitement, an inner shiver that made their heartbeats went faster. They were deffinitely facing something big. „So, kid,“, continued smiling Sully, „ya' in?”. “And how do we get there?“, continued Nate asking questions. „We can't afford to buy ourselves the flyin' tickets to NYC, right?“ „Don't be worry about the flyin' tickets, Nate.“, ensured him Sully. „It's done. Flyin' tickets will be prepared.” “What? How so quickly? Your friends again?“, Nate still didn't understand that Sully has so many friends from around the globe. Suddenly he remembered one particular moment from the last week's “accident“ - a flight attendant's uniform lying on the ground. „Waaaaaaait!!“,yelled Nate like he's just discovered a famous lost city. „That redhead is that friend of yours, right? So we got the tickets thanks to....that she was checking your....'passport' here?“, started Nate provocatively again and started laughing. Sully knew he has no chance to end this dialogue seriously so he started doing dirty jokes too. „Yea and thanks to the 'passport' control I was allowed to board the plane.“, he smiled back and put a cigar into his mouth. „But you still haven't answered to my question. You in that job, kid?“ „I'm in!“, answered Nate decidedly and slowly stopped laughing. „Can I get that 'passport control' from the redhead too?“ „Nate!...“

#uncharted #uncharted fanfiction #nathan drake #young nate drake #victor sullivan #young victor sullivan #young sully #victor goddamn sullivan

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galadrieljones · 5 years ago

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That he may hold me by the hand - Chapter 12

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Albert Mason

Rating: Mature (Adult Themes and Situations, Violence, and Sexual Content)

Summary: After saving Albert from stumbling off a cliff in the Heartlands, Arthur invites him to Valentine for a drink. What ensues after that is a quiet love story, in which both men find themselves completely undone.

Masterpost | AO3 | Epigraph

Chapter 12: Awake, dear heart.

“If you’re concerned about leaving them behind, then ask them to come with us,” said Albert. It was the next morning. They were getting dressed, getting ready to head down to the saloon to meet John and Mary Beth for breakfast. Apparently Josiah was indisposed with a hangover and could not be bothered.

Arthur was tucking in his shirt. They had been talking about the Marstons. He paused a moment to regard Albert in his level of seriousness. It seemed quite high. The morning was sunny. The room was bright. “Bring them to California?”

“Yes,” said Albert. “I can—I can pay their way. I’m more than happy to do that.”

Arthur fixed his suspenders, exhaled with some gravity at the thought. “John’s gonna have a hard time taking your money, Al. That’s a pride thing. It’s nice of you though.”

“Of course. But the offer is on the table, all right? Will he take your money?”

“Maybe,” said Arthur. “I think he’s got some of his own, but with a woman and a boy, taking chances without enough—it ain’t smart. John ain’t the sharpest tool in the shed, but he’s got good instincts. I wonder how much he’s got.”

“You should talk to him,” said Albert. “Maybe he’ll let go of his pride. Or, put it on hold.”

“You don’t really know John.”

“No, I don’t,” said Albert. “But I’ve met him and talked to him enough times to know that he’s generally agreeable. And he’s not anywhere near as difficult as you are, Arthur, when it comes to prying back the lid.”

Arthur gave him a look. “Prying back the lid?”

Albert held his eyes. “I just mean that he's open. More so than you, or I. He's just somewhat...young."

"He's only five years younger than you."

"Five years is enough, and we're very different."

“I get it.”

“Talk to him. See what he’s willing to do.”

Arthur knotted his hair back and stood there. He looked down at his gun belt, where it lie in a pile on the floor. He was absorbing Albert’s observation, which he knew was most certainly correct. “Yeah, okay,” he said, scrubbing at the scruff on his cheeks. “I’ll talk to him. Today.”

“Splendid,” said Albert. He drew quiet then, a little wreath of quiet, hanging in the air.

Arthur looked up from where he was buttoning his collar. “What’s the matter?”

Albert was standing still, fully dressed, looking sharp in a pale blue collared shirt with a navy vest. He was staring at the floor between them. He said nothing.

“You worried?” said Arthur, fishing for his eyes. He found them, eventually. “You’re worried.”

“Somewhat.”

“We’re just bringing in a bounty, Al. It’s legal work.”

“I know,” said Albert. “I don’t really care about the legal part. Just be careful.”

“I’m always careful,” said Arthur. He leaned in and kissed him once. “Weren’t no other outlaw so careful as me.”

A couple of weeks before, John had got a lead on a bounty to collect in the southern bayou region of Lemoyne. The guy was a moonshiner who had killed his two partners in pursuit of their share in the earnings, and was most likely on his way to killing more. The new Sheriff in Rhodes had a strict NO SHINE policy and was kind of a stern, mean, and old motherfucker. He chewed on pieces of bark and had been sober since 1883. He didn’t care for outlaws, but he did not disdain them either. He seemed to understand that, inevitably, in the ecosystem of the law, a strategic utilization of organized lawlessness had its direct advantages. He sure as shit didn’t want to hunt down shiners in the bayou himself. Was a lot easier, and faster, to hire a couple young guns with a distinct financial thirst and an understanding of how to discretely circumvent the polite order of things. Plus, his deputies were shit.

John, upon his acquisition of the task, had asked Arthur to assist him. In the meantime, Albert had offered to show Abigail and Jack around St. Denis. They had never been to the city before, and though Mary Beth had initially signed on to do it, she had been called upon unexpectedly by Tilly to aid in a housekeeping scam, and she could not turn down the money.

That day, after Arthur and John left for Rhodes, where originated their lead, Albert, Abigail, and Jack departed the saloon and took a walk around the city. Abigail very much liked St. Denis. The sights and sounds and all of the people filled her with energy. She also enjoyed spending time with Albert. He was a skilled gentleman, a very kind man. He opened doors, pulled out chairs, talked to Jack with a great deal of enthusiasm, and he was soft-spoken, which was calming. Abigail was used to a kind of brute chivalry in men but not to Albert’s sense of refinement. It was, in some ways, intoxicating. He was also very stoic, she thought. He was loquacious, but it felt like kind of a show, to distract from how well he was able to control his inner-self. In this way, he was a lot like Arthur.

The weather was pretty that day, and not too humid. The sun was exquisitely bright, so Albert purchased for Abigail a parasol at the shop of a Russian dressmaker near Chinatown. Abigail was overwhelmed by the gesture. He told her it was no trouble. She was so enchanted by the accessory, however, she felt herself the envy of every other woman on the promenade. She studied the seams and construction of the piece so that she might one day be able to make her own. It didn’t seem too difficult if she could get ahold of the right materials.

“My mother was a seamstress for many years,” said Albert, a surprise reveal, while they walked along the shore of the lake.

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” he said, smiling. He held his hands in his pockets as Abigail twirled the parasol. Jack had a balloon. He was running up and down the sand with it, chasing pigeons. “Even after she married my father, she still made her own dresses, always has.”

“It’s a good skill,” said Abigail.

“Indeed, it is,” he said.

They had a picnic lunch on a large checkered blanket, which they laid beneath the shade of a magnolia tree. There were not many people about, but more were starting to emerge as the day wore on. Jack had been feeding the ducks, was now asleep in the grass with his hand still full of bread crumbs. Albert was lying on his side, eating grapes, propped up on one elbow. Abigail was leaning back on her hands, with her legs crossed, barefoot, surveying the beauty of the light and how it warmed the green grass.

Albert refilled her glass. They were drinking a kind of elegant sherry, which he had brought from his apartment.

“It’s such a beautiful day,” said Abigail. “Thank you, for doing this. And it’s just been so nice to meet you, spend time with you. I hope I ain’t being too forward.”

“Not at all,” said Albert, smiling. “I have been wanting to meet you, and Jack. Arthur talks about the two of you quite often.”

“He does?”

“Yes,” said Albert. “You seem to play a big role in his daily consciousness.”

She smiled to herself and drank some of her sherry. She glanced to Jack, who was very peaceful. She had not enjoyed a day so much in some time. “Mr. Mason,” she said, after a little while.

“Yes.”

“Can I…tell you something? I really feel I must.”

“Of course,” he said. “Anything.”

She watched him as he watched the lake. She took a deep breath. She was nervous. He was so like Arthur. Impenetrable. It became more and more clear, the more time they spent, making more and more sense. Of course, it manifested differently in Albert. Where Arthur was morose and pensive, Albert was polished and mannered. It seemed a product of his societal upbringing, more than anything. “I just wanted to say that—well. Let me start from the beginning.”

Albert was a good listener. “Okay.”

She straightened up, placed her hands in her lap. The parasol was by her side, folded up, so pretty, like a bird. “I have known Arthur for about five years,” she said, looking down at her hands. “It ain’t that long, in the grand scheme of things. But you get to know people fast when you live with them. Don’t you think?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Anyway, I just—I don’t know how to say it.” She looked at him, searched his eyes. They were very dark, like Dutch’s eyes, but they were so much softer around the edges. Almost sleepy. She could understand what Arthur saw in him. “There have been a lot of women, come through,” she said. “A man like Arthur—well, you get it. Tall, good-looking, rough and tough. Kind of mysterious. He’s a hundred licks smarter than any of these other reprobates, too, and that makes him seem unattainable. Women die over that sort of thing. Anyway, Arthur weren’t never a cad, but women have never been difficult for him. He’s had many chances over the years.”

“Yes,” said Albert, following her eyes. “He’s told me.”

“I’m sure he has,” she said, blushing. “I ain’t meaning to overstep. I’m sorry.”

“You’re not overstepping,” said Albert. “Go on.”

“Okay,” she said. “It’s just that, in the past year or so? Arthur kind of shut down. He’s such a good man, but I was certain he’d be alone forever, that he’d given up on love. You know, when Jack was first born, John weren’t ready. He completely freaked out, disappeared on me. He didn’t come back for near on a year. In the time he was gone, Arthur was so generous. He spent time with me, helped with the baby, provided. He’s very good at that, providing. I always hoped he would find somebody who could provide for him in return. Somebody as generous as he is. Somebody that would love him without trying to change him. You know what I mean?”

“I do,” said Albert, softly.

She smiled. “Anyway, when John told me about you, I’ll admit that I was surprised. It was just so unexpected. But the way he described you, he made it sound like Arthur was finally happy, cared for. And what I wanted to say was, I can see now, why that is. I’m sorry if I sound like a moron. But thank you for letting me talk.” She exhaled, took a big gulp of her sherry, and shrugged.

Albert was warmed. Abigail was very pretty, and she was easy to be around. She reminded him of Mary Beth, just a little bit more practical, blunt. She had seen more. He could tell. He said, “You’re certainly not a moron. An thank you.”

Abigail looked up at the tree top overhead. She was counting birds, bird nests. “This city is so big,” she said after a little while. “I can’t believe it.”

“Where were you born?” said Albert.

“Denver City,” she said. “It booms some, but it ain’t like this. What about you?”

“Philadelphia.”

“Do you think you’ll ever go back?”

Albert shrugged. “I’m not sure.” He looked away then, as if something had changed.

“What’s the matter?” she said.

He sighed. He picked up his glass, swirled the sherry, but he didn’t drink it. “Nothing is the matter.”

“You’re fretting,” she said. “About Arthur. Ain’t you? I can see it. I could see it all day. You hide it well, but I know what I’m looking for.”

He sipped then, looked at her from over the rim of his glass. After he swallowed he peered down into the sherry, as if he had been caught, and said, “I am, somewhat.”

This sort of warmed her heart. “I get it,” she said. “You know I thought I would get used to it, over time, the worrying. But it never goes away. I’ve just learned to deal with it a little better.”

“How do you deal with it?” he said. “I’m curious.”

“Well,” she said. “I just consider the facts.”

“Which are?”

She kind of squared up with him then. She was an outgoing woman. She didn’t really hold things back or sugar coat. “The facts are, Arthur Morgan is a fast fucking gun, Mr. Mason.” She smiled to herself in reverie, as if recalling happy memories from the past. “Can’t nobody get the drop on him. He’s one of the foremost gunslingers in the west. Universally acknowledged in our circles. Formidable in every goddamn sense of the word. And he’s taught John everything he knows. Together, they can’t be stopped.”

Albert had a crease, between his eyebrows. It only showed up when he was nonplussed.

“By the looks of you I’m guessing you didn’t realize who you had fallen for,” said Abigail. She ate a grape.

“No, no,” said Albert. “I’m quite clear on who Arthur is. I just—I’ve never heard it described in quite those terms before.”

“I hope I ain’t scaring you. Arthur is really a big old pussy cat. He ain’t nothing to fear unless you got it coming.”

Albert blushed. He removed his hat to study the brim. “It’s quite all right. I just—I was going to say that I think I actually saw that part of him once, in action. I just didn’t know what I was seeing at the time.”

“Seriously?” said Abigail. “When?”

“It was a while ago, before we…well, when we were just friends. In Big Valley. We were camped in a meadow, near the creek. A couple of men ambushed us early in the morning, and I was held at gunpoint, and Arthur was as well. But Arthur—he was very calm. It’s almost like, like he was playing with them. When the moment of opportuity presented itself, he disarmed his attacker, shot him dead, point blank. The other man released me and ran off in fear. It was so fast—at the time I was terrified and just relieved for it to be over. But looking back, it was impressive.”

“Yeah. That sounds like Arthur,” said Abigail, plucking a handful of grass from the earth. She had been scooping it all up into a pile when suddenly, she looked at Albert full of remorse. It was as if she had made a huge mistake. “Shit,” she said, squashing the grass pile. “I hope I haven’t said too much. He’s gonna kill me. You truly love him, Mr. Mason. Don’t you? No matter what?”

Albert found this amusing. He had flattened out onto his back, so that he could look at the sky, the sunlight poking through the cracks in the leaves on the tree. He folded his hands on his chest. “More than words,” he said, on no uncertain terms.

“What would it take,” said Arthur. “To get you to leave with me, and Albert. You and Abbie, and the boy.”

They were in Rhodes that night, drinking at the Parlour House, seated in a booth toward the front of the saloon. They were planning to spend the night after interrogating a couple guys in town, at a back alley card game hosted by the local fence. They would head out hunting in the morning.

“Leave with you?” said John. He straightened up boyishly, took off his riding gloves, set them in a pile on the table. “You mean, come to California?”

“Yeah,” said Arthur. “That’s what I mean. Come to California. What would it take?”

“Not much convincing,” said John. “I’ve been wanting to get the hell out of here since Blackwater. But it would take money, I guess. More of it.”

“How much you got.”

“I got about a thousand saved.” He was thinking on it, seriously. “From jobs and such. It ain’t enough though, for the three of us to make a fresh start. You know that.”

“The land is cheaper out there than it is out here,” said Arthur. “Maybe you and me, we could go in on something.”

“Like what.”

“We can talk about it,” said Arthur. “There’s plenty to do. One decision at a time.”

“How much you got?” said John. “Just you.”

Arthur smiled. “I got a lot more than a thousand dollars. I’m gonna hack off a small amount of my savings and leave it to Mary Beth, and Mr. Mason, well—he’s offered. He’ll pay anything, but that ain’t the point. You stick with me, you don’t need to worry about money, Marston. If you want, you can pay me back as we go, but that ain’t my concern.”

“Mr. Mason,” said John, shaking his head and looking down at his bare hands. “Jesus Christ. I wonder what that’s like.”

“What what’s like?”

“That kind of money. What’s it look like, Arthur? Has he talked to you about it at all?”

Arthur blinked. They each had a glass of bourbon. There was a man on the piano, playing a ballad, and many loud women laughing nearby. “Some,” he said, drinking. “Guys like Albert, they don’t really talk about money, but he’s got property, a couple of trusts. I mean, before him, I weren’t even used to sleeping indoors. It’s been kind of a whirlwind.”

John closed his eyes, set his head back against the cushion. “You gonna let him keep taking care of you with it?” said John. “You should. Life’s a bitch, Arthur. Live while you can.”

Arthur chuckled at this. He said, “It ain’t my land in Carmel-by-the-Sea. And I sure as shit ain’t staying here.” He looked at John, in earnest now. He squared up with him and said, “You come with us, with me, that safety net is yours as well as mine. I want you to know that. We lucked out. Somehow, I don’t know. I lucked out, and I’m letting you in on that, free and clear, if it’s what you want.”

John took a deep breath. He was looking down into his cup, and they were listening to the piano. The room smelled like warm beer and cigars. John was nodding quickly to himself, as if making complex calculations in his mind.

“What’ll it be, Marston.”

“Okay,” he said, finally, affirmative. “What the hell.”

Arthur slammed his hand down on the table, a product of anticipation. “Very good,” he said. He held out his hand, John shook it. “It’s the right choice, John. I promise you.”

“I know,” said John. The handshake resolved and they both returned to their whiskey. John was turning the cup in his fingers.

“Not gonna lie. I thought you might be more stubborn.”

“I thought I’d have more pride about it, too,” John said, sipping, “but I don’t know. Lately, I don’t give a shit about pride. I just wanna do right by Abbie. I’ve hurt her too much. And she would want this. She’s gonna be real pleased when she hears.”

“I want you to know that this is unconditional,” said Arthur. “I ain’t wanting for you to pay me back, unless you can. I don’t care about that. It ain’t about me. It’s about you, and your family. I ain’t Dutch. You got that?”

John was staring at him, nodding his head. It seemed like he might start asking more questions—about Dutch, about Hosea, but for the time being, he skipped it. “I got it,” he said. “Thank you, Arthur.”

“You’re goddam welcome.” He threw back his whiskey in a single gulp, signaled to the barkeep for another. The barkeep gave him a mean look, shook his head, and went back to shining his glass.

“Jesus,” said Arthur.

“They really hate us here.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

“Hey, Arthur,” said John.

“Yeah.” He was reaching in his pocket for a couple dollars to wave in the air.

“I just—I wanted to say something else, if that’s okay.”

“Shoot.”

“It ain’t about the money, or the going with you to California. I’m all in on that.”

“What’s it about?

“I just wanted to say that…I think you’re a changed man,” said John. It was like falling off a cliff. It came fast and unexpected. “You seem changed.”

Arthur gave him a look. “How so?”

“I don’t know,” said John, like he was feeling stupid. He usually said what he felt. He just wasn’t so good at words, and with Arthur, this tended to embarrass him. “I mean, you’ve always been there for me, even if you hated every minute of it. I get it. I been kind of a piece of shit these past few years.”

“It’s okay. I been there, too.”

“But you—” John continued, “you just seem real sure of yourself these days. That’s all. In a good way. And I don’t mean on the job. You’ve always been sure of yourself on the job—to an annoying degree. I just mean, like you know who you are, and you’re okay with it. Things ain’t always been like that for you. It’s not easy. You know?”

Arthur looked down into the empty glass. He felt warm, though he hid it well. He said, “Yeah, well. I’ve had a lot of positive reinforcement these past few months. Turns out it works wonders.”

“Turns out,” said John. “Anyway, I’m gonna go give this bartender a piece of my goddamn mind.”

“No violence,” said Arthur. “We got business in town.”

“Yeah, yeah.” John went over to the bar. Arthur watched closely as John cussed out the barkeep, plain and simple, and then in crass, but diplomatic fashion, placed five dollars on the counter. Then the barkeep, wide-eyed and furious, gave him a whole bottle of bourbon and told him to get the fuck out and to never come back. “Never come back!” he said. John laughed at him, returned with the bottle, looking like a dog that had just dug a bone. Arthur was none too disappointed, and they left. They camped outside the town on a muddy creek and fished their dinner, like old times. After the meal, they got piss drunk and high off a bunch of hash cigarettes, made plans they would not remember by morning, and passed out when the moon was still high. The next day, they road into the bayou, brought in the bounty, alive, with very little trouble, made a $500 return, handed to them by the surly Sheriff in question.

“You boys come back in the future,” said the Sheriff, chomping on a cigar. “It has been a real pleasure.”

“Maybe,” said John, counting the bills. “Maybe not.”

They split the take down the middle.

“Awake, dear heart,” said Abigail. “Awake.”

Back in Albert’s room, above the saloon, while Jack slept on the couch, wrecked from a long day in the sun, they were reading Shakespeare by the light of the lanterns—The Tempest. Abigail read slowly, but with encouragement, she was better than she thought she was.

“Keep going,” said Albert. “You’re doing very well.”

“Thou hast slept well,” she continued, pleased. She liked the play. It was strange. She didn’t know old writing like that could have so much magic. Then, she paused for a moment, set the book down in her lap. She seemed to sense the future. She looked at Albert and said, “Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?” he said.

She glanced toward the door, smiled once. It was spurs, in the hall.

#red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #albert mason #arthur morgan x albert mason #rdr2 #that he may hold #two updates in one week i know #anyway #also new banner #i was bored #got some momentum on this one #kept writing #here's to progress <3

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co-mixed · 5 years ago

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TROS: Out of character Reylo moments

Even though we have way more different stories about couples and their adventures saved for later, this first week was all about Star Wars and Reylo in particular.

This is the way.

Let’s talk about moments that were way out of character for Ben Solo and Rey. Together as well as apart.

You bet there’s gonna be spoilers.

1. “What could you give me?”

If you ever wanted to see a nightmarish version of Star Wars, the opening of TROS is your best bet. Everything looks creepy, but somehow still acceptable within the universe. Up until Supreme Leader Kylo Ren asks Palpatine about his possible offerings. I think we’ve covered this before, but there is no way that after all the mess with Luke and Snoke, Kylo would be interested in whatever Palps has to say. If he wanted to make a pitch, he should’ve started with turning his fleet against Kylo and his Order. That could’ve worked better than a helpless raisin on a mechanical hanger talking.

2. “You’re a difficult man”

Why does it feel like Rey we know is kind of a different person? It’s not that she wouldn’t talk back to people, it’s just that the phrase itself sounds more like something Leia or Amylin Holdo would say, who are (were) both higher than Poe in the chain of command. Rey is on the same level with him. But no, that’s not even the point — they both messed up. Why is he difficult for arguing about it, and she isn’t? This might seem funny or cute to some people, which is good, that was the intention. But it does feel a bit forced, like in the writing room someone gave this joke more credit than it deserved.

3. “I don’t want to go without your blessing, but I will.”

Rey says that to Leia, adding the fact that that’s what Leia herself would’ve done. How is that out of character? Well, we have our parallels between the OT, and the ST. And Rey has already learned her valuable lesson about helping someone before completing her training. “This is not going to go the way you think,” that was Luke’s warning, pretty much the same one he’s gotten before from Yoda. But Rey at this point is supposed to know better than facing the Emperor without any preparation. Makes you think if she was supposed to face someone else altogether, ready for a challenge this time.

4. Fixing the mask

Just why? To show it around? We were told it was meant to fulfill a particular task, but we never learn more. If it’s to keep Palps out of his head, then okay, we would just like a bit more explanation within the film. And why is a chimp fixing it? Ok, moving on.

5. “The First Order is to become a true Empire”

Too bad he’s abandoned his “let the past die” narrative. It was compelling.

6. “You can’t hide Rey, not from me.”

From what we know of Ben, who is the one usually talking to Rey, he doesn’t talk to her like that. That would make her scared and angry, and is that what he really wants? Especially if mere moments later he’s announcing his plan to turn her.

7. “You’re haunted. You can’t stop seeing what you did to your father”

They’ve already covered it in TLJ, but clearly, someone is implying that never happened.

8. “Do you still count the days since your parents left?”

See how every line makes this dialogue fall apart? Again, Ben Solo sucks at saying the right thing to Rey on the go. But when he has time to prepare, he makes pretty decent speeches. And this one would make her cry again. He’s smarter than this.

9. “I don’t wanna have to kill you…”

We know.

10. “I’m going to find you, and turn you”, and so on.

Didn’t go well the last time. Seriously, he’s supposed to learn, but the author here seriously opposes the idea. Besides, this whole speech is a mess. He’s not the smoothest talker, but he sounds way too rude here. And we know that there’s been a year, and there were supposed to be other Force Bonds. But he’s acting… well, out of character. Definitely out of the one we know from TLJ. He can’t go backwards like that.

11. Kylo trying to roadkill Rey, Rey cutting the wing off.

What’s that about? Seems like you can fight through the Force Bond now, why bother meeting up in random places? It feels like by this point they would manage to stay in the same galaxy without being at each other throats, but why is the script actively trying to convince us otherwise? It honestly fails to make any sense. And what was the original plan for both? Murder?

AND DID EVERYONE IN THIS SCENE FORGET ABOUT KYLO?

Finn screams, Poe screams, Rey screams, all in the same space. Kylo is just… standing there.

12. Kylo chatting it up with Palps

In his mask, that was supposedly fixed to keep the guy out of his head. Without holocommunicator or anything. I just don’t understand it at all. It’s not ooc as much as it’s plain illogical.

13. Rey running away right after healing Ben

She just almost killed Ben, then sensed Leia’s death. The logical outcome is actually an immediate meltdown. It would’ve been even more powerful if this happened before she healed Ben, giving him a chance to comfort her, bring her back to light more or less, because at this moment it’s obvious that she is under dark influence. And that would give her a stronger reason to heal him. Of course, the outcome of this scene would also be way different.

14. Rey didn’t even cry

It apparently took her less than a day to accept the “attachments are forbidden” aspect. That’s some high quality training, I’m gonna have to say. We still can’t get over the fact that she didn’t cry, break down or at least honor Ben in any way.

Okay, that’s it for now. There are still great scenes in there somewhere, so we would prefer to remember them.

#rey x ben #reylo #rey #ben solo #reylo shippers #tros #tros salt #tros spoilers #star wars #the rise of skywalker #reylo is canon #ooc

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dawnwriterimagines · 5 years ago

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Three Heroes: Various!BNHA x Reader (Part 3)

This is a Todoroki x Bakugo x Reader x Midoriya fanfic, inspired by the My Hero Academia movie: Two Heroes, the storyline will be adjusted due to the readers presence. Read on and I hope you enjoy!

Warning(s): Blood, Violence, Fluff, Poly!Relationship, Swearing, mature content, etc.

All might grimaced as he watched the villains beginning to lead away his closest friend, David, opening the doors to leave the room. He flexed against the binding restraints, gritting his teeth as he watches the door close, the lead member of the villains leaving along with Dave.

Toshinori struggles, trying to be as still as possible while attempting to breaks the bonds, trying to attract as little attention to him as possible. With these villains pointing guns as every innocent civilian and hero in the room, he couldn't risk being caught. He groaned lightly before his eye's drifted to the restraints that you were once bound in, now grey instead of the glowing blue that surrounds him currently. The little red carpet, now dark red splotches having splattered after he had watched his daughter shot before his eye's. The bullet moved so quick, he hardly heard the shot, until he saw your disappearing body suddenly clipped by the bullet. You turned just in time to avoid the bullet hitting you in the chest, the villain had shot recklessly and if you hadn't turned...

All might shook his head, his eyes closing momentarily at the thought, no, he couldn't think like that. He should never think like that. He'd always be there to protect you.

However, he couldn't help the pain in his chest as he knew that he was captured so easily unable to defend you properly, even if hostages were involved. He hoped you were ok now, having seen all the blood that had splattered on his own hands from the shot. He knew you'd be ok though, you had, unfortunately, dealt with worse.

But, right now, in order to get to you and free everyone else, he needed to get out of these bonds, because he is here! He flew against the restraints once more, gritting his teeth. How much power did he even have left? But, that didn't matter, he had to find a way!

He turned in his restraints his head turning upwards as his body began to face the glass ceiling above the podium. The doors opened again as the lead villain came back, but he ignored that as he found himself looking up at...young midoriya?! That's right, you had gone upstairs to find him, bakugo, and Todoroki.

Midoriya made a few hand signs, before cupping his own ear, all might raised a brow before understanding, they'd be able to hear him! This was his chance to warn him to get away!

"Hope you can hear me. Some villains have taken the tower. Taking over the security system and leaving everyone on the island as a hostage!" He harshly whispered, "including the heroes at this party. Get away from here as soon as you can!"

He could see the look of shock on his face, and he could only hope that the young hero would heed his warning.

●

All of you were gathered at the stairwell of the bottom of the tower, just outside was the reception which was no locked and filled with villains.

You stood between Todoroki and a sitting Midoriya, holding your right arm, you grimaced, not from the pain, but from the thought of your father and countless others being held at gun point by those rotten villains. You were also quite bitter that one had gotten you, shooting you in the arm before you escaped.

"We've received All Might's orders loud and clear!" Iida announced, you glanced up at him from your thoughts. "He's our teacher, I suggest we follow his instructions and escape this place!" His fists clenched at his sides. "Otherwise we'd be going against his will!"

Your eye's go wide, he wanted to leave? When all these people were still trapped in here, with villains ready to blow their heads to bits no less.

Yaoyarozu spoke up, "I'm afraid I have to agree with Iida," she admitted. You turned to her, surprised although you could understand the hesitancy coming from your classmates. "We're only students. We haven't even gotten our hero licenses yet!"

Kaminari perked up, "Then, why don't we get out of here and tell the hero's outside about the situation?"

Melissa shook her head, "That would be difficult. This place has a security system equal to the world's strongest quirk prison: Tartarus. Where they keep the most dangerous criminals in the world."

Everyone's mood almost completely deflated at that, so no one could get back in or out. "Well, I guess we just sit and wait here until it passes over." Kaminari said, sighing against the wall.

Jirou however, stood to her feet. "Are you really ok with that Kaminari?"

"What choice do we even have?"

"Don't you think we should at least try?" Jirou asked everyone.

Mineta interjected. "Come on, I mean they even have All might locked up in there!" He defended. "There's no way we can stop them."

Todoroki noticed you paling and tensing up at the mention of your father's capture. "Aren't we trying to be pros ourselves?" Everyone, including you, turned towards him.

"Well yes, but we're not allowed to work as heroes yet, you know that." Momo said, although saddened by the reality.

"Does that mean we should do nothing at all?" He questioned, staring at his palm where he had all this power but felt useless to help.

"It's complicated."

Your grip on yours tightened. "But it shouldn't be," everyone turned towards you, surprised as you hadn't said anything since hearing all mights last words. "Being a hero shouldn't make you have to think twice. And we shouldn't have to sit back and wait for help that may never come," you said, looking down at your brushed arm, wrapped tightly by the red blazer of Izuku's suit. "My father is in there, he would do everything in his power to save every life he could. Sitting back isn't an option...I won't wait, I can't," your nails dig into your arm's.

Everyone looked at you in shock. Izuku, especially, his eyes wide in awe before he stood slowly. "I-i wanna help." He looks at you, "I want to say them too."

"Deku... (y/n)..."

"Are you two crazy?!" Mineta shrieks. "Have you learned nothing from the USJ incident!"

"This is completely different!" Izuku explains. "We don't have to fight them!"

"That's easy to say but--"

Your eye's widen, "You're right, but," you said, eyes were on you, confused as to how they could pull this off. "We just have to figure out a way to get dad out without facing the villains. Which would mean we have to get get to get the security system...those restraints," you recalled, taking your wrist, "once I got to the lobby they immediately weakened, being further from the source of power. If we can get to the main system we could release the heroes and save everyone else."

"That's right," Melissa perked up. "We should be able to restart the system st the top floor, ourselves. We just have to stay off off the villains radar until we can get to the control tower," she said, nodding at you. "If we do that, the whole island will be safe again."

"Then, it's possible," Izuku's eyes go wide, hopeful.

Jirou stepped up. "Yeah, but how do we keep on the low for that long."

"If they knew we were here they'd have found us. That means the security system hasn't found us yet," you answered her.

Melissa wondered aloud, " that means the villains don't know how to us it very well!"

Shouto crossed his arm's, "So, we avoid fighting anyone until we get the place back to normal." He looked at you thoughtfully, "it could work."

You smiled faintly as the plan was coming together. "And if we're fast we won't have to fight them!" He spoke up, everyone listening to him as he gave a determined look. "Once All Might and the others are released they'll immediately jump in to save everyone, I know they will!"

You stared at him proudly, smiling widely. "We can do this! We can't just stay here and be helpless, we're gonna be official heroes someday. But, we can still be heroes today." You pumped your fist up, "we can save everyone." You turned to Izuku. "I'm with you, Zuku!"

Ochaco bounds upwards. "What's important is that we're helping people! I'm in!"

Shouto places a hand on your shoulder. "I'm with you," you smile up at him. "Both of you." Izuku grins.

"I'm in," Jirou offers.

Izuku links eyes with the both of you, his smile radiating to both of you, but he knows he couldn't have done this without you so if anything he was on your side. You already seemed to figure out the game plan.

"The moment I think things have gone to far it's over," Iida says, frowning slightly, "If you both can agree to those terms, then you can count me in too."

"Iida," you beam.

"Alright in that case I'm in too!" Momo says.

"Of course I'm in too!" Kaminari sprouts up, pumped.

Mineta, in the corner looks around at his lunatic classmates before bursting into tears in fear. "What're to all nuts! Of course I'll go!" He sobs.

You chuckled, "way to be a hero, mineta!"

"Thanks mineta!" Izuku praises.

Melissa looks around at the brave, young heroes surrounding her, ready to risk their lives for people they hardly know. He's never met such people as this, they all reminded him so much of Uncle Might, especially you.

Izuku and you walk up to her, "Melissa, you can wait down here for us ok?" Izuku says.

"Actually I want to go with you," she offered, you both stared at her surprised.

"Huh? But, without a quirk you'll be in danger," Izuku said.

"Well I don't suppose you know how to change the settings on the Island's security system," she stated, "any of you?" Everyone remained silent realizing she had a point. "I'm a student at the Academy, she continued, "I'll be useful to you!"

"Hold on!"

Melissa went further. "I know I might just get in your way, especially to the higher floors. But, I want to help!" Izuku seemed moved and you smiled before putting your hands on your hips. "Please!"

You frowned slightly, "Fine, but you'll need to follow our specific instructions. We don't know what we'll come across or who, so you'll have to stay close and be prepared for anything," you turned your head towards the rest of the group, " that goes for everyone. Villains could be anywhere and just because they haven't spotted us yet, doesn't mean they can't show up. We have to be ready." You smiled proudly. "We can do this. We can save everyone!"

"Right!"

●

You and Izuku ran to the railing overlooking the glass ceiling of the reception, your father was restrained below. You could see from here that he was coughing, his form weakening, it had been over an hour since you had arrived and his form was wearing down.

You stared down at him, pained before your eyes changed to one of determination, no, you will save him, you had too. You'd help save everyone.

Your father made eye contact, glancing between you and Izuku, you could imagine what was going through his head as his eye's went wide and he shook his head. He didn't want you to do this, he knew what you were thinking, that look in your eye's, he's had that same look.

Don't tell me...that look in your eyes! Its too dangerous! No, please, run away! He thought, yelling to himself, wishing he could warn you and protect you.

You shook your head, No, I know what you're thinking. It'll be ok. We'll save everyone, this'll work. It has too. I know it will, we'll be ok, Dad.

You and Izuku looked at each other before turning around, you could basically hear your father screaming at you to stop, to not go any further. But, you wouldn't listen, you had to do this, for him, for the heroes, for everyone!

All might, laid there, his form beginning to slowly weigh down as he feels himself turning back to normal, he bulks up quickly. She won't escape, will she? God, I know I should be furious. But, she wouldn't be my kid if she ran away, would she? And he couldn't deny the fact that he was proud.

Be careful Fledgling heroes!

"Let's go!" Iida yelled.

"Right!"

#bnha midoriya #midoriya x reader #deku midoriya #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou #mha bakugou #tododekubaku #todoroki shoto x reader #mha todoroki #todoroki x reader

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riveir · 5 years ago

Text

info dump canon au verse.

writing in this verse is set in an alternate universe scenario, in which river’s death occurs later in life than his senior year of high school. i’m very hesitant to say that it wouldn’t occur at all, for reasons explored below; because i would prefer writing in this verse to be heavily plot-based anyways, all of this can be altered & explored on a very individualized basis. i want to keep this plot-based because a big factor in river’s suicide is that he feels himself buckling under pressure without enough positive things or emotions in his life to, in his own words, ‘balance [him] out.’ writing river past senior year of high school assumes he has at least temporarily overcome these obstacles or found some reason to want to keep pushing through them. general reasons are outlined in each scenario below, but i think a lot of it would depend on individual specific relationships between river and the opposite muse. i think river’s mental health struggles extend beyond things like his parents and santa barbara and st. sebastian, though those things are certainly all factors in their own ways, and i hesitate to say that the things/changes applicable in each scenario below would be agents of such major change. a big part of this is acknowledging the lack of change that resulted after river’s first suicide attempt, which largely centers on his parents; no one else knew about his mental health struggles nor that he had received treatment until river breaks down and reveals it to the entire school because the family wanted to keep it between them, and his parents do not change their attitudes or treatment of river in the aftermath. in short, i just don’t take altering river’s death and its circumstances lightly, and this is all still contingent on individual plotting. however, because i’m not opposed to writing things in such a verse at all, i though doing an info dump for it would be helpful (:

river living past senior year fall means that he would still be running for student council president. this can also be plotted individually, but as far as dealing with the rest of the canon timeline of the politician, it can be assumed that river continues running until he has an admissions interview with stanford that seems to virtually guarantee admission ( though family donations likely play a large factor in that as well ), at which point the student body presidency is deemed unnecessary and he drops out to try and allow payton an easier path to victory, though it can also be assumed that astrid takes his place on the ticket. exploring a scenario in which river does actually win the election, though, is definitely a possibility on an individual plot basis.

there are two default scenarios in this verse. the first is that river gets into stanford, attends, and continues along the path intended for him by his parents and continues giving into them, hoping that at some point he’ll feel some significant reassurance from their pride and happiness and that it will make a real difference in his life. the second is that he chooses to go against their wishes, elects to attend columbia university in new york city, and pursues a dual major in education and psychology and intends to spend some time as an english education teacher in the peace corps before he begins formally teaching, deciding that the inevitability of shouldering their disappointment would be outweighed by the chance of pursuing a future he feels as though he actually wants.

“ i had to do it if i had a shot of getting into stanford. i mean, i had to do something to get my parents off my back. ”

despite applying to and getting into other schools, including other ivies like columbia and yale, river accepts his offer from stanford university, much to his parents’ pleasure. though he expects to feel some relief, given how much of the pressure put on him was contingent on admission to stanford, its motivation only shifts. his parents begin advising him on what extracurriculars to join even well before he arrives on campus, and put even more pressure on him as far as his grades, and constantly try and push him to forge useful business connections and almost even just choose summer internships for him. there continues to be extremely high standards for him to live up to; it seems to be never-ending, and despite hoping that getting into the school and agreeing to pursue a finance degree would have satisfied his parents and would have made them proud, river still can’t seem to be able to get off that hamster wheel. it is mentally and emotionally exhausting.

by the time he died in the politician canon, river had not really figured out exactly what his sexuality was, nor was he entirely comfortable with exploring it openly ( referring to his tense reaction to payton’s threat to tell the entire school they’d slept together ). choosing to dedicate himself to being the man his parents want him to be means that the fear of allowing himself to fully come to terms with his sexuality does not go away. it was made very clear to him that the expectation was that he would find a nice wife and raise a j. crew catalog family. still counting on familial pride being a saving grace, he continues to keep ‘that part of him,’ in astrid’s words, largely a secret.

essentially, circumstances do not change much from the politician canon, despite his continued hope that one day he will be enough for the people he cares about and so desperately wants to make proud ( which still exists largely because of payton and the faith in him he always showed and the support he gave that no one else did ).

“ you’re gonna go to college, and join the peace corps. ”

despite getting into stanford, river rejects the offer to attend columbia university instead. attending school on the opposite coast gives the opportunity for a break from the suffocation he associates with california, and ultimately decides for once to act on his own best interests and put himself in an environment where he thinks he might have a chance to finally breathe and be himself. away from the ghosts of his parents and their influence, river feels hopeful that new york will provide a new lease on life. however, the decision comes with a price, and the weight of his parents’ displeasure and disappointment is even heavier than river expected.

reports back home of his schooling and college experience are received with passive aggressive jabs, muttered wistful expressions of what could have been. “well, if you were at stanford, you could’ve been set up with [insert name of roland’s connection here] and been on a fast track to a high-paying job at the firm right out of college.” “you’re accustomed to a certain lifestyle, river, i’m not sure how you expect to maintain it on teaching degrees.” “seems like all those opportunities we worked to provide you with growing up were not quite as useful as we’d hoped they’d be.” it’s difficult for river to disappoint people; we see his willingness to please others in his decisions to run for student body president on others’ advice, in keeping the end goal of stanford in mind at the beginning of senior year, and even in the fact that he mentions trying something new every time he has sex with astrid in hopes of getting a more positive reaction from her, instead of her standard ‘you were great.’ he’s so used to living up to expectations and at the very least having that recognized, even if it’s always followed by the addition of a higher standard, so despite the liberation he anticipates coming with choosing to live for himself, to experience the opposite is crushing.

and how can he disappoint his parents even more by crushing the dreams they have for his personal, family life? distance gives him freedom, but he still knows he’s going to inevitably be returning to the superficial, inauthentic life that instilled in him habits he can’t quite break yet, that boxed him into someone he didn’t want to be and so distanced himself from the person he did want to be that river sometimes fears he won’t be able to make that his reality.

the peace corps is discussed as a stepping stone, a resume builder for when river inevitably does get that high-paying finance job, working in a skyscraper. “it could give you a leg up on international business.” but for river it’s so deeply personal, a way to give the knowledge and and facilitate the cultural exchange that he’d experienced growing up to those without the privilege that had given it to him in the first place. it’s heartbreaking for it to be looked down upon, as well as the career he’d like to have as an educator, especially given his intent to emphasize the importance of mental health in youth in the way he might have benefitted from, in the way he would have wanted to at st. sebastian.

river is still faking it, and never feels that he’s given the freedom to actually be happy, at least to his full potential. river is so good at pulling vulnerability out of people and spends so much time and energy searching for authenticity in his life because he’s looking for permission to be his true authentic self, too. he’s terrified of what people would say or do if they knew what was under his easy-going, unfailingly friendly facade ( and this is even worsened by the way his parents handle it ), and how can he be comfortable living freely when no one else in this life is? he’s accepted for the person he is pretending to be, and being that person still proves difficult; for most, it isn’t enough. and even if / when river does get a little freedom, the rigidity of needing to keep it together and the habitualness ( so much so that it almost feels automatic ) of hiding this overwhelming depression are certainly and absolutely difficult to break and escape from.

#。 ·ﾟ ⎛ 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 ⎠ arc iii‚ canon au.#。 ·ﾟ ⎛ 𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘭𝘦𝘺 ⎠ headcanon.#suicide tw #suicide mention tw #suicide attempt tw #depression tw #this is heavy & long but i feel better getting my thoughts on this actually organized #and out into the universe

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