#still have no clue how to promote my fanfiction in case some other freaks out there want to read it
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“I want you to mentor me,” Wade tries to say it as sincerely as he can.
Because “I bet 300 bucks I could get into your pants” doesn’t roll off the tongue quite as smoothly.
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just going to leave some lines from the new chapter here *backs away slowly*
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scarpool-gmk · 4 years ago
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6 Part 2
Title: Godly Marine: Killed Author: Scarpool Fandom(s): NCIS, Percy Jackson & the Olympians Pairing(s): Gen Rating: PG/K+ Summary: Chapter 6 Part 2 (8/13) — Staff Sergeant Michael Kahale, Marine Corps Mechanic and Son of Athena, was murdered. Annabeth Chase is determined to find out who did it and why. She, along with Percy Jackson, Grover Underwood, and Clarisse La Rue, infiltrate NCIS where they team up with NCIS Agents Leroy Gibbs, Anthony DiNozzo, Timothy McGee, and Ziva David. Complete Genre: Fanfiction, Mystery, Drama, Humour, General, Action Warnings:  N/A
-Κλαρίς-
Clarisse had to hold in laughing as she saw Annabeth's eyes bulge in fascination as Gibbs used the iris scanner. With a hiss and a clunk!, the doors unlocked. He heaved the door open. "Welcome to MTAC, agents."
"Wow," Annabeth whispered as her eyes adjusted to the darkness.
"Sweet secret base you guys got going on," Clarisse praised.
"Thanks!" McGee beamed like he was the one getting complimented. "It's decked out with some great technology sensors. It's completely separate in terms of technology, components, and connection from the rest of the building. Best monitors, state-of-the-art firewall, and the-"
"You guys do any movie nights in here?" Clarisse cut in.
"I-well no. I mean, uh, maybe? I wouldn't know anything about that," McGee spluttered.
Clarisse smirked. "I'll take that as a yes."
"McGee," Gibbs said, saving his agent, "Connect us up with the Staff Sergeant's C.O."
McGee hurried to do as he was told, working with a row of tech. Clarisse wouldn't want to get too close to any of those. Could probably get the entire monster population of the East Coast fixated on their position with those many wires. Annie, Prissy, and Goat boy wouldn't appreciate it. Would make one heck of a battle story, though.
Gibbs, Annabeth, and Clarisse stood in front of the huge screen.
"Morning, agents," the commander said when he flashed on the screen.
"Nice to meet you, Commander," Annabeth said.
"I would rather have not, Special Agent Lima, Gibbs. I take it you still haven't found out who took out my mechanic."
"No, Commander," Gibbs said, "And it seems your mechanic was into a case of his own."
"What do you mean?"
"We believe he was following leads that might uncover cartel movement in D.C.," Annabeth explained.
"Can you tell us anything about anything the Staff Sergeant was involved in?" Gibbs asked, "Any ops that he was assigned?"
"No, sir. This is the first I'm hearing of this. He was designated to go on tour; we were called in to head into NAMRU-6."
"Peru?" Gibbs questioned.
"It was going to be smooth sailing," the commander affirmed. "A secret mission…He was one hell of a mechanic, and even then…"
"Commander?" Annabeth pushed.
"He was too smart for his own good. He wasn't going to be a simple Staff Sergeant for long. In fact, I'm surprised he held out for this long. His excellent, strategic mind and fighting skill, especially in close combat, had placed him in the fast lane for promotion. He may have wanted to be a simple mechanic, and I know he declined several offers, but as good as he was, he gained the attention of those who could force him into positions."
Clarisse frowned. Sounds like Michael had been way too noticeable. She didn't even think that the Navy and Marine corps would inspect mechanics that thorough. How did they test his strategy making?
"Sounds like he was a special case," Clarisse said, "Did he get any flak from his crewmates because of it?"
"Not really, ma'am. He wasn't exactly a social person to begin with."
"He never got into any disputes with anyone?" Clarisse asked.
"Only one, but I've learned to keep them apart."
"Reason?" Gibbs asked.
"Uh, they just didn't see eye-to-eye."
Clarisse almost snorted. Translation: he had no clue. What kind of Officer in Charge was this guy?
"Who's the soldier?" Annabeth asked.
"First Lieutenant Adrian Rodriguez."
"He antagonize a lot of people?" Gibbs asked.
"No, sir. He's actually very well-liked. It was very strange that he turned confrontational with Kahale. Same with Sergeant Kahale."
"And you have no idea as to why this was." Gibbs didn't phrase it like a question. At least they were all on the same page.
The C.O. on the big screen shrugged. "Those are two of the sea's finest. Rodriguez is soon to become Major. They don't have so much as an excuse to hang around each other anyway."
This time, Clarisse didn't bother hiding a sound of disbelief.
"Where is he?" Gibbs asked at the same time as Annabeth said, "Tell us about him."
Clarisse stepped back so the two could glare at each other better.
"He's a skilled Marksman," Commander Oblivious replied, "knows a lot about on-the-spot- field medic stuff…sings pretty good, too." Clarisse shared a glance with Annabeth. That sounded familiar. Annabeth would probably say that it was a textbook definition. Nerd.
"But he has not left the ship," the commander continued, "he's been on board the entire time."
"Then call him over," Gibbs said, "Maybe we can help solve what his problem with Michael Kahale was."
"You can't think-"
"The more we know about our victim, the better we can predict his movements and motives," Annabeth consoled.
The commander ceded the point and nodded at some staff who promptly left the room, presumably to find the First Lieutenant. He turned his attention back to the NCIS agents.
Gibbs continued on questioning him. "Did Staff Sergeant Kahale ever mention an Annabeth Chase?"
The man on the screen frowned. "The name rings a bell; give me a sec." He shuffled some papers around. "Oh! Yes, as one of the emergency contacts. Right there under his father. Annabeth Chase, relation as his sister."
Annabeth showed nothing. Instead, asking, "What is the contact information?"
"A phone number with a New York area code."
"Read aloud the number, please."
The commander read out the numbers as Annabeth instructed. Clarisse immediately recognized it as the mainline to the Big House.
"It's a different number than the one he called," Annabeth said.
"McGee," Gibbs called, giving silent instructions.
"Already on it," McGee said, "Number is to a farm, Delphi Strawberry Service. Located in Long Island."
Clarisse mentally cursed and tried not to self-consciously fidget at the glare Gibbs gave Annabeth.
"But he never spoke about his family. Or friends. Or life. Again, not the most social guy."
There was movement in the back, as the staff member came back with a soldier, who promptly stood at attention.
"First Lieutenant Rodriguez, meet NCIS Agents Gibbs, Lima, and…"
"La Rue," Clarisse supplied.
"First Lieutenant," Gibbs greeted.
"Sir!"
"At rest, First Lieutenant," Annabeth said.
Gibbs started the questions as Rodrigues shifted his stance. "What's your relationship with Staff Sergeant Michael Kahale?"
The soldier frowned, confused. "He was a mechanic assigned to this vessel, sir."
"We're told that you were uncharacteristically disruptive around him."
"Yes, but I haven't been in confrontation with him, as per C.O. orders. If he's said-"
"First Lieutenant Rodriguez," The C.O. cut him off, "Sergeant Kahale was shot two nights ago."
"Shot?" Rodriguez said in shock, "But… we're home…"
"We know that you've been on board the entire time," Annabeth said, "We just need to know more about who Michael Kahale was."
"I-I understand, Ma'am."
"What made you dislike the Kahale, First Lieutenant?" Clarisse asked him.
"It's not that I disliked him, ma'am. Kahale was actually a good guy. Introverted, sure. But he was a good soldier, amazing smart, and easy to talk with. But I…" He faltered. "I don't know. For some reason, the friendly conversations always turned into some sort of fight? Like a challenge I couldn't lose to? I guess?"
"Don't sound sure of yourself," Annabeth noted.
"I can't explain it. Every time, it just led to a fight over any stupid, little thing. I honestly don't know why. I don't expect any of you to understand."
Clarisse heard Gibbs sigh tiredly and mumble, "Oh, I understand perfectly."
"Can you give us some examples of what you fought over?" Annabeth asked.
"They were stupid, ma'am. Like over the name of a future vessel. He thought it should be named USS Zeus. I said it to be USS Jupiter. We also fought over his position. Kahale was a good Marine but could've been even better. But he kept at being a non-commission mechanic because he had an issue with the control of our Superior Officers. I know he even declined a promotion to Warrant Officer. He disliked how strict military life was and preferred the more laxed nature of the machinists. He believed that individuality and improvisation held more value in the field than the collective skill of the group and rigid structure. He did not trust others with making decisions for him and disliked giving orders himself. But I know several of my brothers who have similar opinions, and I've never fought them over it."
Annabeth nodded, humming softly and deep in that brain of hers.
"Did he ever mention some sort of mission?" Gibbs asked.
Rodriguez blinked. "No. Nothing ever like that."
"Mexican Cartels? Arms dealing?" Gibbs fished.
"What? No!"
'Freaking Hades,' Clarisse thought, 'I hope this information isn't supposed to be kept low profile.'
"What about mythologies?"
The First Lieutenant stiffened. He was definitely a demigod. Clarisse would have to see if Chiron knew an Adrian Rodriguez.
"What do you mean?" Rodriguez tried playing off.
"Gods, Roman myths, Greek heroes, monsters, that sort of stuff."
"No."
"Then that's all we need from you, for now, First Lieutenant," Gibbs said, taking a glance at Annabeth.
"Catch who did this to my mechanic, Agents," the Commanding Officer said before the connection cut off.
Gibbs didn't waste any time.
"What am I missing here?"
Annabeth lifted an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"
"Some random mechanic gets murdered hours away from his assigned vessel because he was uncovering an entire operation that was way out of his league. His dying words were to some girl whom he listed as an emergency contact with a Long Island number. Suddenly, I've got NCIS agents from a Long Island branch I've never heard of. This case has brought too many outside factors, and I have the feeling my team is out of the loop on specific information that can make this case more manageable."
"We know as much as you do," Clarisse retorted, "And missing information comes with the job. This is a mystery. We investigate and find the answers, complications and all."
Gibbs considered her for a moment before relenting and leading them back out of the heavily secured room. "Fine. I'm going to head to the bar. McGee, get DiNozzo to call the Strawberry Farm. I also want the personal files of First Lieutenant Rodriguez and his C.O. Ziva! Gear up." He looked around at the rest of the agents expectedly.
"Er, trying to squeeze out info of Cartel movement in the area," DiNozzo said, "Not much luck."
"Talked to Abby," Ziva picked up next, "Her professors were able to translate some more of the notes. This Doughnut place is apparently definitely arms dealing with the Reynosa Cartel. Sinaloa involvement is suspected. Middle East connection is pure speculation. Michael also noted that he believed he was found out because he smelled."
DiNozzo made to comment but was silenced by a look from Gibbs.
"I'm still IDing all of Mr. Tarsibo's victims," Grover said.
"And customers," Gibbs added.
"…And customers…"
"No mention of Monster Donut on the web," Percy reported, Annabeth's laptop in hand, "Making sure that if anyone finds it, we'll be the first ones to know."
Gibbs nodded and then headed towards the elevator with Ziva in tow. Clarisse admired the way his silent command to get back to work hung in the air. Except for one problem.
Clarisse was back in the bullpen. She hated it.
-Ζήβα-
Ziva was debriefed about the meeting with the commander on the way to the Drowsy Owl.
"If the Staff Sergeant was being seen by superior officers and the Commanding Officer didn't know anything," Ziva said, "Perhaps our Staff Sergeant was granted a mission."
But why give such an advanced and dangerous mission to a mere mechanic?
"Michael Kahale had been in service for five years," Ziva said, answering her own question. "They had given him training- maybe advanced secret in-training. Kept him officially as a mechanic, using it as a cover."
"But why send him on a case that without providing him resources?" Gibbs asked.
Hm. True. Michael Kahale had lacked money, cover, and backup. The time limit was horrendously short; what he uncovered in such a short amount of time was astonishing. If he hadn't ended up dead, she would have thought that it was a controlled mission.
"You said that First Lieutenant Adrian Rodriguez responded to the mention of mythological connection. Is it possible that whatever mission the Staff Sergeant was on, was not external but internal? An internal audit? But if Rodriguez was his target, he would have responded to the reference of cartel involvement."
"What if the Cartel wasn't initially apart of this operation?" Ziva thought back to her previous line of thought. "What if Rodriguez was involved? As Michael's partner. The First Lieutenant is thought of highly as well."
"Don't get caught up on theories," Gibbs warned.
"Maybe I should just follow my gut," Ziva teased.
"It's always worked for me," Gibbs said.
"What does it say now?" Ziva asked. She looked at him when he did not answer.
"It tells me that the Long Island Agents know something that they aren't sharing."
Ziva frowned but said nothing.
They came up to the store. "See if anyone has seen Tarsibo," Gibbs said.
"Not many people to ask," Ziva grumbled.
Reshaun Sachs was beginning to blindly invite them to choose a place to sit until he looked up from pouring a pint of bitter. "Let me guess," he said, "Navy cops."
Ziva and Gibbs flashed their Identification.
"This about the young Marine or something else?"
"Same one," Gibbs said.
"Didn't realize you had such big teams."
"Neither did I."
Ziva sent Gibbs a look and decided to change the topic, unfolding the blown-up photo of Tarsibo.
"Do you recognize this man?"
"Sorry. No."
"He seems to be a customer of yours," Ziva pushed, "He may have been here during the past week."
The bartender frowned, "If he passed those doors, I would remember. Especially from this week." Ziva nodded. She didn't find him to be lying. There were other ways waste from this place could have gotten to the car rental.
"Do you mind if I talk to your customers?" Ziva asked
Sachs shrugged. "You can, but all of these guys are regulars that just come for their lunch break."
Ziva assumed as much. She left Gibbs to converse with the man.
Sachs was surprised that they had found traces of his business as far away as East Maryland. Like Gibbs, Ziva was getting her own list of negative answers.
She walked around the bar, trying to envision it on a full night with businessmen, college students, and Mrs. Kahale with her entourage. It was an open area, which meant open conversations that could be the center of attention or hidden by those that took that position. The only place that was really hidden was the way to the restrooms, which had its own hidden hallway that led to a back exit. That was where Ziva excused herself to answer her buzzing phone.
"What is it, Tony?"
"Get into any bar fights, yet?" Tony used as a greeting.
"It is still a bit early, but it has happened before."
"Well, don't go too hard on them. People who go this early are there to drown something."
Ziva thought of the three businessmen in the bar hunching over their drinks. He was too right. "As I'm sure you know, Tony."
"I'm not that old," he said.
"You are what? Forty?"
"No!"
"Mmm, but I'm close. How many years am I off?"
"…Two. I'm still young, just have a few years of experience."
Ziva hummed. She didn't tell him that she had more years until she hit thirty.
"Well, I'm sure you didn't call me just for this."
"No, I'm here to update you so you can update Gibbs."
"Why not call him instead?"
"Figured he'd be doing some unofficial interrogation. And I would never break that rule."
"Well, what do you have."
Tony sighed, "Pretty much nothing. Got in connection with the Director of the Strawberry Service, a Mr. Dee. Took forever to get a final answer. 'I have a faint recollection of an Annie Bell.'" Tony droned in imitation, "'Yes, the girl is quite a trouble seeker, although she is one of the brighter ones I have had to deal with. Says a lot about them. However, she left. I don't expect her to be back for a while.' That was fifteen minutes into the conversation. He ends with an 'I grow tired of your pitiable blather.' And just hangs up."
Ziva snickers. "Doesn't sound like a reliable witness."
Ziva could imagine Tony shrugging in the squadroom, "It's what I got."
"Alright. Thanks." Ziva hung up the phone and accidentally stumbled when she bumped into something. Or rather someone "Oh, sorry I-" Ziva stopped as she got a look at who she almost toppled. It was a young man who had just come out of the lavatory. He was of an average built, a bit on the shorter side with a head full of blonde hair. He was in some sort of customer service uniform, a nametag still latched on. But Ziva only gave it an unconscious look over. No, she was more captivated by his eyes. They were a sickly green, and the iris seemed alive, swirling like snakes in a pit. And were those scales on his cheekbones?
"Agent?"
She blinked, and all those features were gone. Snake filled eyes replaced with light hazel ones. No scales either.
"I'm sorry," She told the man who had snapped her out of her stupor. Just what was that? "For bumping into you," she specified.
He smiled at her, "No problem."
She watched him leave her, heading for the back exit. How did he know she was an Agent? Was her badge showing? No… Who was he? She searched her brain for the answers. Wait. She had seen his nametag before getting distracted by his face. (She shivered at the recollection. Was it something she ate?) Then it hit her; the nametag had a cheesy 'Hi, I'm Tommy' in Comic Sans Font. It also had a logo of a one-eyed monster munching on a doughnut.
"Monster Donuts," Ziva breathed out in realization. The back door slammed shut. "Hey!" Ziva shouted, "Wait!" She ran toward the door. Before she exited, she remembered that the store was arms dealing, and anyone connected to it should be handled as armed and dangerous. Pulling out her firearm and quickly collecting herself, she slammed her way out and was met with… no one?
Ziva surveyed the area, circling in a three-sixty. There was no one there. How could he have gone that fast? He was only out of her sight for a few seconds.
Gibbs was not going to be happy with her.
After making sure to uncover any possible hiding places, she went back inside empty-handed.
Gibbs frowned at her as she entered. Ziva trusted him to connect the dots and directed her words at Sachs.
"You didn't say you had someone in your restroom."
From the corner of her eye, she saw Gibbs change his stance, a mixture of weariness and drive to get the truth. However, the bartender seemed utterly confused. "There was? Oh, I had completely forgotten…"
Ziva shared a small look with Gibbs. Sachs seemed muddled all of a sudden. Strange and convincing. Ziva hadn't thought this man to be a good actor.
Ziva described him, more for Gibbs's benefit than Sachs's. "Yes, about this tall, blonde, green eyes, wearing a Monster Donut uniform."
Sachs's face lit up in realization. "Yes! He was one of the guys that the woman hangs out with, the one that the other agents knew, a Mrs. Kahale." His eyebrows scrunched together. "I can't believe I forgot about him coming in…"
Ziva shared another look with Gibbs. Either this man was telling the truth, or he was the best actor Ziva had encountered. Gibbs, although not outwardly changing his calm demeanor, seemed as dubious as she was.
"If he or anyone else from Monster Donuts come in," she said, "Please call us."
"They are connected with this Marko Tarsibo guy? What have they done?"
"A number of things," Ziva said.
The man gave an inquiring stare. Ziva expected that how dangerous they were could affect his business if he let continued to let them be customers at all.
"They are connected to arms dealing, Ziva said. "Also, have a connection to the death of multiple murders, including children."
"They've killed kids?" The statement seemed to call Sachs back from his confounded state. "You said that this guy was a part of this and that he was a car dealer, right?"
The agents nodded.
"The kids, were they middle-school-age? Older girl with Asian features?"
Ziva scrambled for her phone, bringing out the profiles of the most recent child victims. She shoved the phone in the man's face. "Are these them?"
"Yeah, I know them. They had come in, ordered some soda, burgers, and fries. They looked pretty street-savvy, I kept my eye on them to make sure no one slipped them anything or took an order for them. I got something about how they were headed for the Carolinas, I guess they needed a ride. That woman, Mrs. Kahale, spoke with them for a bit. I didn't hear what was said, but if they needed a ride and she knew this dealer, she could've gave them to him."
The NCIS agents didn't give him time to finish as they rushed out the door.
-Περσεύς-
Percy would never get an office job. He thought being a Federal Agent would have been so exciting. Sitting on a desk doing the same thing over and over again was killing him. He kept getting distracted by the happenings outside. (Hey, those windows were huge. Not his fault the outside world was more entertaining.) He couldn't help but feel a bit guilty every time Grover would snap him out of his daydreaming. He was supposed to be helping make official profiles of each victim, so that a) the families could be notified, b) Dr. 'Ducky' could analyze and create a deeper understanding of General Botsaris and his victims, and c) so that Annabeth could report back to Chiron, and they could contact the families of the demigods.
Percy did have to admit that Tony's conversation with Mr. D was quite funny. Although, he was only able to hear one side of the conversation.
'No, not Annie Bell. Annabeth.'
'No, I am not here for strawberries.'
'Yes, wine sounds wonderful, but-'
'So, did she work there or not? What do you mean, who? Annabeth Chase!'
And it just continued. Percy had cracked up as the agent repeatedly smacked his head on his hand while talking to the exasperating god. If only he knew how it felt to deal with Mr. D on a weekly, sometimes daily, basis.
Unfortunately, that was what felt like an hour ago. McGee had sent a file to Tony a while later and was on his way to escape to 'help Abby run prints.'
"I'll be using the system," McGee told Grover and Percy, "Hopefully, it won't slow down too much."
"It shouldn't be a problem." Annabeth walked in, looking a bit disgruntled after her talk with Chiron. "Although we are using the same system, it's coding and routes have changed, meaning it can still use the data and have access to an ever-updating network while not really using the same path and program you'll be using."
Percy would have totally zoned out from that explanation if it wasn't for Grover nudging him to make another profile.
McGee made a face. "You can do that?"
"Not really. It's the computer."
"What are the specs?" McGee leaned in to check Daedalus' laptop's design. "What's the brand? I don't recognize it."
"It's experimental."
"Huh, well I'm going to-"
"Not so fast, probie," Tony called.
Percy looked up. Tony had better not been calling for him. He eased up when it was apparent he was talking to McGee.
"Rodriguez also uses disposable, pre-paid phones," Tony said, "But he makes regular family calls. If we searched his family's phone records, we would find a record of regular calls coming in but from different numbers? Wouldn't that be the case if Michael did the same?"
"But we already checked the Kahale's phone records, Tony," McGee said.
"No. We only checked Patricia Kahale's, and she said she didn't even know Michael even joined the Marines. Daddy, however, had a better relationship."
"And when Percy and I spoke with him," Annabeth said, "He gave me the impression that he knew about Michael joining."
"McGee, pop up the man's phone calls," Tony said.
McGee shared his screen on the plasma. Window screens flashed on and off as McGee used keyboard shortcuts lightning quick, even using long sequences of code that Percy didn't know could be memorized.
"Okay, filtering for numbers that are no longer in service."
"Wow, that's a long list," Percy said. They weren't going to have to go through some sort of procedure on each one, were they?
"He is a lawyer," Grover said, "He must get tons of scam and calls from one-time numbers."
"It doesn't matter," Annabeth said.
"What do you mean it doesn't matter," Percy asked. Was Annabeth okay? How bad was the call with Chiron?
"I mean, I've found what we're looking for." She pointed to a six-minute call starting 12:52 A.M. yesterday morning. That was right before the approximate time of death.
"It's not the same number the Staff Sergeant used," Tony said.
"A spare phone," Clarisse said, "He uses one phone call on a pre-paid, dumps it, and then uses the second to make another call."
A demigod technique. Annabeth and Chiron told him of it when he went outside of camp. The only time it was safe to keep a phone after making a call on it was in or right by camp. Otherwise, it was a traveling beacon for monsters.
"The father made the call," Tony said, "McGee, can you find the location where the burner picked up?"
McGee clicked a couple of times. "Washington, D.C."
"Alright," Tony said. "I'll call Gibbs, and we'll pick him up."
"Sweet, let's go," Percy said.
"Wait, Percy," Grover said with big eyes, effectively killing Percy's hope. "I still need your help with this."
"It's fine. We got this," Tony said, him and McGee rushing toward the elevator.
Percy watched them as they disappeared with a ding. Great, the three people that were the least qualified for desk jobs were the ones left at the desks. At least they had Grover to stop them from accidentally blowing up the place and being labeled as domestic terrorists, yet the way the satyr was inhaling those paper clips didn't bode well.
The phone at Tony's desk started to ring. The four of them stared at it for a second. "Should we get Tony back?" Percy asked.
"Ugh," Clarisse rolled her eyes. What? What did he say? Gods, she was just so annoying. 'And rude,' he added as he watched her get up and answer the cop's phone, but he already knew that.
"Yeah," Clarisse greeted. She was silent for the ten seconds as the caller spoke. Percy wasn't even surprised as the daughter of Ares slammed the phone back down without another word.
"They found Botsaris's car," Clarisse said.
'That at least deserved a 'Thank You,' was Percy's immediate thought.
Annabeth jumped up. "Let's go."
Finally! "Did you get the address?" Percy asked, excited to get out.
"Duh."
Grover looked around as all of them got ready to head out. "Um, should we tell-"
"No!" Clarisse and Annabeth both said, or growled in one case.
Grover held his hands up in surrender. "Okay."
Percy made sure everything he needed was on him and swept the desk clear of a small pile of broken pen clips. When had those gotten there?
"Let's kick some butt!" Clarisse grinned. Percy couldn't agree more.
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hello-there · 6 days ago
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annacwrites · 4 years ago
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the wip list
Alright, gang. Buckle up. This is going to be a long one, and at this point I can’t even bring myself to be sorry about it. I meant to put this off but then I started thinking about it, so here we are (at 1:05 in the morning when I have to work at 8:30, what am I doing?). 
I’m going to break this down in a couple of ways—fanfiction vs. original fiction, fandom (if it’s a fanfic), series/universe (if it’s in one), and then the individual books themselves (if I have the ability to do that, because quite frankly, for some of these I don’t because I have no idea what the titles are or where I’m splitting the story yet).
Also, “WIP” is an incredibly broad term here. In some cases it means I’ve already written the whole thing but I plan to 100% rewrite it (and haven’t started yet). In some cases it means I’ve written half of the thing but haven’t finished yet. In some cases it means I have it all outlined but haven’t started writing yet. In some cases it means I haven’t really touched an outline on paper yet but I have it all worked out in my head. Take the “in progress” part of WIP with a grain of salt.
(Putting this whole thing under the cut because it is so freaking long. I apologize if the read-more doesn’t work on your dash. Idk what tumblr is doing.)  
Starting off easy—the fics:
Harry Potter: (JKR can fuck off with her transphobia and cultural appropriation and all the other stupid and fucked-up shit that she’s done/promoted but, as I said to my friends, she can pry my next-gen fanfics from my cold dead hands. Cursed Child is not canon in my life because I’ve never read it and I don’t care what nonsense she came up with.)
The “In Your Arms I’ll Stay” universe (Tedtoire/Scorose): 
The first fic in this universe is the first fic I ever finished. 110k words followed up by a ~137k word sequel. It is a disaster and a half but it’s also my baby and I fully intend to rewrite it one of these days. It is full of standard Tedtoire trope-y nonsense—best friends since childhood! two-year age gap! jealousy about other relationships! obliviousness!—and at 15 I thought it was a really good idea to try to turn it into a mystery too, which is a mistake that I have every intention of rectifying because it was unnecessary and I just didn’t know how to do drama and tension back then. 
Anyway. It will probably be two parts again when I rewrite it because one part per school year just works, yeah? We’re covering Vic’s fifth/Teddy’s seventh year and Vic’s sixth year/Teddy’s first year out of school over the course of these parts.
Within this universe we also have Heartbeat and Bone, which is a Scorose fic that I’ve written probably 75% of already but have no intention of actually finishing before I rewrite it. I want to get the stories in the right order so that I can get details straightened out, so Teddy and Victoire get the rewrites first and then I’ll be revisiting this fic. Also full of trope-y nonsense (and my continued acceptance of the headcanon that the Heads have their own dormitory at Hogwarts, because it’s just too much fun that way).  
some things were meant to be (Tedtoire):
Oh god, another fic with a cliché title taken from Can’t Help Falling In Love. I have zero regrets because it fits them perfectly.
This one is... half-done? I fully intend to finish it but I need to finish the outline first. It was my 2019 NaNoWriMo project and I am 100% just writing it for the lols (and because Teddy and Vic are like... my comfort ship where writing is concerned). I wanted to play with a different universe and change up their relationship and roles at school a bit, but once again... trope-y nonsense. It’s unavoidable with them. There is obliviousness everywhere. 
Star Wars: (it’s Reylo, okay? It’s Reylo. I don’t want to hear it about how the ship is ~so terrible.~ That is literally the furthest thing in the world from a hot take, you can’t say a single thing that I haven’t heard before, and I’m a grown adult and can do what I want. Bite me.)
looking for the map that leads me home (Reylo): 
Stole the title on this one from We Take Care of Our Own by Bruce Springsteen, because why the fuck not, right? 
To put it simply: musician AU. To put it a little less simply: he’s got a dead career, she wants to have even the slightest shot at one, Rose is the best, Poe’s a singing heartthrob, Finn is a love-struck goofball. You know, all that fun stuff. The entire thing is based on a playlist that I made and every chapter has a song that acts as its theme. I haven’t touched it since January 2018. I want to finish it eventually but it’s not really at the top of the priority list. 
There’s a few other fics from other fandoms that I’ve started and never finished but the odds of me touching them again are like... nonexistent, so I’m not including them here. I’ll update this post if anything changes on that front (but it probably won’t).
Now for the complicated part—the original fiction:
Maker’s Magic 
This is a trilogy (or at least, it’s supposed to be). This is also a rewrite of the first story I ever finished—the fantasy novel that I wrote for my first-ever Camp NaNoWriMo back in August of 2011, when I had literally no clue what I was doing at all and essentially stole the plot structure from The Obsidian Trilogy by Mercedes Lackey and built my own story around it. This is not a good way to write a piece of fiction that you want to publish, kids, but it is a damn good way to get your feet wet when you’ve never really written before.
I am reworking this story entirely from scratch. The characters are... kind of the same as the original story. Kind of. Maybe. I’ve changed a few names and merged a few people together and scrapped some others and entirely shifted the backstory of pretty much everyone, but... they’re definitely still the same, right? 
Basically, at this point the plot is really only similar to The Obsidian Trilogy in that we’ve got a trilogy, we’ve got some elves, and it’s your standard good vs. evil fantasy story (in its own unique fashion, of course). I’m still working out the details of this rewrite, but this is kind of the Holy Grail of all of my writing projects and the one that I’m most concerned about getting right, so I’m anticipating that I’ll be in it for the long haul on this one. I’m hoping I might be able to get a draft of the first book done this year, but... we’ll see.
(I also don’t want to give too many details about this project, ‘cause it’s the one that I’d really like to maybe publish one day, so...)
The Willow Hill universe
This started as a single story plus a standalone sequel set in the same universe, conceptualized when I was fourteen and missing horseback riding terribly (so yes, it is a story for all those Weird Horse Girls™ out there). I wrote a good portion of it, then deleted it, then rewrote the entire thing, then deleted it again a few years ago because I was no longer satisfied with the writing quality (after hitting top 100 on the Teen Fiction list on Wattpad way back when, so... I didn’t do too badly as a 16-year-old, but the writing still sucked). I’ve been promising a rewrite to my Wattpad followers since 2016 or something like that (2014? Whenever the hell it was that I deleted it the second time) but haven’t delivered at all.
I now envision this universe as a duology plus the aforementioned standalone sequel, except it’s not entirely fair to call it a YA duology in that the first book is definitely YA, but the second is more romance-y?
I originally just revealed the main character’s endgame relationship in the epilogue of the story, but I love both her and her boyfriend and their relationship so much that I decided that I’m going to be self-indulgent and write the story of them actually falling in love with each other, so that’s book two (so really, you don’t actually have to read book two to understand anything, I’m just writing it because I want to and it’s also kind of a present to anyone who read the original story when they were also a teenager and is now an adult who wants to read other stuff). 
Book one is now about the teenage struggle of crushes and trying to figure out what it is that you actually want out of your life and what you value (I say “now” because it was definitely way more self-insert-y the first time I wrote it and it is decidedly not at this point). It’s also sort of a love letter to trainers who are amazing and the kind of person we should all be so lucky as to be coached by.
These characters are my comfort characters where original fiction is concerned since they’ve been bouncing around in my head for the last ten years or so, and I’m hoping I can get at least the first book rewritten in the next year-ish, partly because I’ve been promising it for so long, and partly because I just really enjoy this world and I want to get back to it again.
The Coffee Shop Chronicles
AKA, I lived in one coffee shop on my university campus for pretty much the entirety of my college experience and it was a very inspiring place to be, so this has less to do with coffee shop AUs and more to do with the fact that I met several of my favorite human beings on this earth over a vanilla chai latte and mutual sass with the baristas.
(One of said baristas is very near and dear to me and introduced me to another regular who is now a very good friend with the statement “You’re both sarcastic assholes. You’ll love each other.”) 
None of the characters in this universe are based on actual human beings whom I know, but I liked the idea of the campus coffee shop serving as this thing that tangentially connected all of these people to one another, much in the way that I am tangentially connected to god knows how many people via my barista friend. Essentially, the idea is that the stories in this universe are all standalone, but the characters sometimes cross paths with one another at Caffeinated, so it’s sort of... Easter-egg-y in terms of who pops up where in which story. 
Currently I only have two stories in this universe that are legitimately plotted out, but there is room for any number of spin-offs based on whichever characters show up in those stories (or don’t—that’s the fun of it being a coffee shop. The barista is the only reliable character). Those two stories are as follows:
Chance Encounters (title so totally subject to change, also stealing the terribly summary from the Wattpad draft that never saw the light of day):
For Bennett McGuire, things with guys just didn't seem to want to go her way. From the disasters that were her attempts at dating in high school to the problem that had been Elijah Becker, she hadn't exactly had the best luck. With all that in mind, it made perfect sense to swear off dating until she finished college—that is, it made sense until one frozen day in February when Gordon Evans walked into her life. After that, who was to say what would happen?
What’s Your Metaphor? (once again, enjoy the terrible summary from the Wattpad draft that never was. I am cringing reading it but also too tired to come up with anything better):
"What's the point?" 
It's a question asked widely, for all sorts of reasons, and it's one that April Hayes didn't know the answer to any better than anyone else. All she knew was that she had her plan, and she was going to stick to it, because it was the only thing that seemed to have any sort of logic to it in her life. The things she thought, the things she believed—well, they all fell before the plan, because she didn't have time to ask herself "What's the point?"
That is, she didn't have the time to know the answer—her answer—until one guy by the name of Drew Collier showed up and made her consider things that she had never even thought of before.
High Blood
Yinz can go read my WIP introduction post for this one. It’s a fantasy story. Just for the hell of it, here’s the summary from said WIP introduction post: 
At the age of seventeen, Thessaly of Averak had a choice—take the crown of her people and her place as her father’s heir, or set it aside to become one of the High Warriors, dedicated to protecting their people and the country that her long-dead ancestor Enred built after leading its citizens out of a long and bloody war. Amidst raids and famine at the borders, she gave up her crown to better serve the people that her family rules.
Ten years later, all is quiet. At least, all is quiet until Beca’s pendant is stolen by a thief who disappears into the night on the journey back from the summer palace, Tess gets herself stabbed, and the discovery is made that the rock-solid foundations of their family’s claim to the throne—and the peace that depends upon them—are laced with hairline fractures.
(I didn’t write anything to speak of for Camp NaNo July 2020 and actually wound up deleting my project for this on the NaNo site because my dad was hit by a car while cycling the Friday before the weekend when I was planning to write like... 30k words to catch up, so obviously I gave up on that plan (he is doing well now, thank you for asking). I’m hoping I’ll get around to this one eventually because this particular universe arguably has the most potential for having multiple stories set in it, fantasy-wise.)
Emerson’s Lights
Natalie Flynn has been best friends with Evan Acheson practically since birth. They've stuck together through thick and thin, from her braces in seventh grade to his jump to stardom as a singer-songwriter their freshman year of college. 
She’d do anything for him, but spending a week with him on tour involves a lot more than she bargained for, culminating in the turn of events that is Caleb Blake, lead singer and primary songwriter of opening act Emerson’s Lights, moving into her house for the better part of a month.
She always knew there would be complications being the best friend of a rock star, but this? This was one that she didn’t bet on.
(Aka, girl meets boy in a band trope. Yay.)
(NaNoWriMo 2020 project)
The famous musician story (this thing doesn’t have a title right now and I’m not even going to try)
Stupid, trope-y nonsense idea that I came up with for my own personal amusement and nothing else. I’ve written a few chapters of it but genuinely have no idea where this falls in the hierarchy of things that I want to get done. Long story short, she’s in grad school for history, he’s a famous musician in town recording for a new album, they meet in the library, she pretends she has no idea who he is, and shenanigans ensue.
And that is where I think I’m going to leave it. There’s four other stories that I can think of off the top of my head that I could theoretically add to this list, but they are legitimately just ideas right now so they can be added at a later date when they’ve manifested themselves a little more strongly. There’s also another quartet in the Willow Hill universe that I came up with in high school that could theoretically be added but I think I might just steal those character names and give them their own little world instead. We’ll see.
Basically, if you didn’t get the point from this list: I am working on a lot of things, and when I say I’m writing, it could mean literally anything on this list (or any of the other ideas that I have floating around). The stories/universe here are the most likely candidates for my time, depending on whether I’m doing a deep dive into my writing or just playing around with something fun, and hopefully (god, hopefully) I’ll be able to move one or two of these to a “completed works” list in the next year(ish). 
(Or at least, as complete as a draft ever gets before you start going in on it again.)
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cornycornflakes · 6 years ago
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YOU CAN ALSO FIND MY NEW FANFICTION ON AO3 (Corny_Cornflakes)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: F/M
Relationships: Joyce Byers/Jim "Chief" Hopper
Words: 2049
Chapters: 1/?
A rough path
Summary:
It's the year 1971. The young policeman Jim Hopper and his secretary Joyce Byers are investigating the mysteries of their hometown Hawkins. But there are a lot more struggles they will have to deal with (detective AU)
Chapter 1: Prologue - A new secretary
January 24th, 1971
The streets of Hawkins were covered by a thick layer of snow. Late January was always cold in central Indiana. Most people, especially the kids, loved this time of the year. Everyone organized snow ball fights and built dozens of snowmans all around the town. But that doesn’t apply to Jim Hopper, who hated getting up at five in the morning just to shovel the snow. Ugh, mornings. They were for coffee and contemplation, not for freezing weather and physical activity. Well, he had to pay for rent and hospital bills somehow.
The young policeman just came from New York, the city that never sleeps. Why would anyone even leave New York for this hell of a town? There he could start a successful career, maybe even a family, and spend the rest of his life in a nice place with a lot of possibilities. But right after he passed his last exams, Jim found out that his mother, Genevieve Hopper, became very sick. In fact the doctors said that she only had three months left. It turned out they weren’t wrong.
Hopper spend his mothers last two months and eighteen days by her side, taking care of her small trailer and cats. Watching the most important person in his life die right in front of his eyes, just after he lost his father four years earlier was heartbreaking, although he knew it would happen sooner or later. The upcoming days were tough, but he did pick himself up somehow. Jim gave away the cats to a nice and loving family and started to look out for job offers. He didn’t have another option than to stay in Hawkins, because he just didn’t have enough money to go back to NYC.
Just a week later he became a policeman at the local station. Getting this job actually turned out to be easier than he thought. Not a single employee there was as qualified as Jim Hopper was, although this didn’t change the fact that he had to take care of all the paperwork and the boring stuff first. God he hated this shit so much. The only thing that kept him going was the motivation to earn enough money to go back to New York again. But first he had to take care of his mother’s hospital bills. Unfortunately that also included getting up at five am and freezing his fingers off while trying his best not to fall asleep on his driveway.
After what felt like hours he was finally able to start his car and drive to the local police department, the place he now called “work”. The only other place he spent the majority of his time was the one bar that was open after midnight in the entire town. After a hard day, Jim just drowned a glass of whisky after another and picked up random women, with which he would then go back to his trailer with.
Just fifteen minutes later the young policeman parked his old mustang next to the entrance of the police station. The moment he entered the building he noticed that something was different, he just didn’t know what. Also he was too lazy to ask anyone, besides everyone in there was a jerk who didn’t seem to even care about their job.
“Mornin’ Hopper”, his partner, Calvin Powell, greeted him and gave him a cheeky look. Without even taking a look at him, Jim made his ways to the coffee machine and poured himself a nice warm cup. His hands almost froze off after all that shoveling. Plus he didn’t get a lot of sleep the previous night.
“Hey Jimmy, did you make another lady see starts last night?”, Phil Callahan, his other co-worker, joked and made some other policeman in the background laugh. He actually wasn’t wrong, he did sleep with a pretty woman from the gas station the previous day, but he didn’t even remember her name. He usually didn’t.
Instead of responding to Callahan’s stupid question, Hopper gave him an annoyed look and headed toward his desk, which was already covered with tons of piles of files. He had to wait for the coffee to kick in before he could even think about doing all this work.
“Oh come on man, don’t be mad at me!”, Phil suddenly laughed and took a seat next to him. Still ignoring his existence, Jim just forced another sip of caffeine down his throat.
“There’s some info Chief Howard wanted me to tell you. He’s leaving for a week to go see his family in Illinois. You’ll be our boss in the meantime.”
These words finally made Hopper look at his co-worker for the first time that day.
“Don’t worry, it’s nothing too serious. You just have to take care of new cases and you can hand over the paperwork to someone else.”
“Holy crap, that’s great!”, Jim replied with a smile on his face and stood up from his seat. Not only he could work on something interesting, he also finally had the opportunity to prove himself. After Chief Howard would come back and see that he did a good job, maybe he would get a promotion or even better: a raise.
“There’s just one more thing Jimmy. There’s a woman in Howard’s office who wants to apply as the new secretary. Flo had to leave due to some private problems. Take care of her”, Callahan pointed to the big wooden door at the other side of the room and left Jim’s side to get himself another breakfast donut.
Hopper was never good when it came to talking to other people. He had no clue what to say and freaked out after just five minutes of having a conversation with a stranger. Fuck, he can’t screw that up. That raise was just too important.
After hesitating to move for a while, he finally decided to head towards the office. That woman can’t be left in there alone for too long. He fixed his uniform and downed his cup of coffee to the bottom. The caffeine suddenly started to wake him up. Now he was ready for his first job interview.
Although he prepared some conversation starters and small talk topics in his head, he forgot everything the moment he opened the door and saw who was sitting on the grey chair in front of Howard’s desk.
She had long, brown and slightly wavy hair. Her fragile and small frame was covered in clothes, which were at least two sized too big. Her huge fur coat made her look even more delicate than she already was. But the woman’s eyes caught his attention. At first they seemed to just be some dark brown eyes, but there was something about them which made Jim want to look at them for hours.
He had met this woman before.
“Excuse me, are you Mr. Howard?”, she asked with a soft voice and put out her cigarette.
“Nope, my name is James Hopper. I’m filling in for him this week.”
He just stood there, not able to move. What the hell was he supposed to do right now? Or even more importantly: What was he supposed to say? Instead he just motioned her to sit down and took a seat on Howard’s beloved chair in front of her.
“So… I wanted to apply for the job as a secretary”, the woman started and handed him her resume, waiting for a response. He could see that she was pretty nervous.
That was when Jim found out why she seemed to familiar to him.
“You’re Joyce Byers?”, he asked and didn’t even look and her.
“That’s correct. I didn’t even know you were back in town”, Joyce replied, waiting for an explanation from his side. The moment she saw him enter the room she stopped breathing. She knew exactly who he was and couldn’t believe her own eyes.
“I came back three months ago. I didn’t even plan on staying here”, he tried as hard as possible to not show any emotions. No guilt, no sadness, no interest.
“I see. You could’ve at least stop by. Say hi to your old friend”, her face was full with disappointment. But Hopper knew exactly that they didn’t end their relationship on good terms.
“Listen Joyce, we’re here to talk about the job, not our past. Let’s focus on that”, he sighed and proceeded to read her resume. She just leaned against the chair and waited for the next questions.
“I see that you have no experience as a secretary”, Jim suddenly asked and looked her directly in her eyes.
“That’s correct. I only worked at Melvald’s as a saleswoman for half a year, but then I was too pregnant to continue working there.”
He was shocked. Joyce had a child? Why didn’t he know about that? Oh wait it actually made sense.
“I didn’t know you have a child.”
“How could you know that? I had my son after you left and we didn’t have any contact at all”, she explained with a poker face. At least she tried to not show any emotions.
“Right… so you’re married?”
“No. It’s just me and my four year old son Jonathan.”
He wanted to know more. He wanted to ask who the father was and why they aren’t together. But no, it was a job interview and he had to stay professional.
“Alright, I guess that’s all the information I need. Listen Joyce, I don’t think-“
She suddenly stood up and interrupted his speech: “Listen to me Hopper. I know that I may not be qualified enough, but you don’t even know how much I need this job. I need to feed my son. Also I’m a fast learner. I promise you that when I get this job, I’ll give my best every single. goddamn. day. Please.”
Jim expected from her to fight for what she wants. She’s always been like this. Maybe he should give her a chance? The police station really needed a new secretary anyway.
“OK. You get the job”
Joyce was surprised. In fact she didn’t know what to say. She just stood there, with her mouth slightly hanging and waiting for a “just kidding” or “you really believed that?”.
“Joyce, are you alright?”, Jim asked, interrupting the awkward silence between them.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just… thank you. When should I start?”
“Is tomorrow eight am ok?” He gave her a little smile to not seem too harsh anymore.
“Yes, perfect. See you tomorrow eight am then. And once again, thank you very much”, she said as she left the office and closed the door behind her. Hopper decided to stay there for a little while to think about everything that just happened. God, he’s going to work with Joyce Byers.
THE Joyce Byers.
He still couldn’t believe it.
The two of them first met in fifth grade, it was their first day of middle school. A girl with a long braid walked into the class and decided to sit down next to little Jimmy. But before that happened, she accidentally spilled her apple juice on his shirt. Everyone around them laughed.
That didn’t change the fact that over the next days they became best friends. The two urchins always spent their afternoons together at the playground or in the forest building… something. Their friendship was strong, but it all seemed to change once high school came around.
Building stick castles turned into sharing cigarettes between fifth and sixth period. One day Joyce and now Hopper (because there were two Jim’s in their grade) bought cigarettes from the senior’s and then ran from Mr. Cooper after he caught them smoking under the stairs. They ended up hiding in the boy’s restroom and making out. He remembered that moment as if it was yesterday.
After that “incident” they suddenly were boyfriend and girlfriend. Their cigarette sharing turned into make out sessions and listening to their favorite music in his car. Unfortunately this teenage dream lasted only until their prom. That night he told her he’s moving to New York to become a policeman. Joyce was obviously heartbroken and ran off. They hadn’t had a proper talk since.
But that would change very soon.
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