#t: goodbye inspector

[vgtrackbracket]

Video Game Track Bracket Round 1

Goodbye, Inspector from Papers, Please

vs.

Delphinus Delphis from ABZÛ

No propaganda was submitted for either track.

If you want your propaganda reblogged and added to future polls, please tag it as propaganda or otherwise indicate this!

[saintship]

Also, i forgot to write this on my request, but if u could, i would love it if the reader is a female, since i'm a girl :).

Summary: f!reader has a journal listing ‘imperfections’ and ‘perfections’, but one category is severely lacking. König & the 141 find this journal by accident. I edited the phone to a journal for the sake of the plot

A/N: I really hope you can find people in your life to confide in, body image is a beast

Cw: discussion of body image and esteem

König & 141 x f!reader - Perfections

Your view of your body was never straightforward, every day a different perspective, a different shift of blame. Some days ran smoother than others.

For the days that left you wishing to crawl out of your skin, it felt like your options were scarce.

You started writing.

The morning after New Year's; murmured goodbyes and pounding heads. You knew you'd be finding glitter in your hair for a week, but considered the night a success anyway. It was a silent victory to have celebrated as a host in the first place; it took confidence to house your closest friends and colleagues, let alone with alcohol involved.

Simon left first; he had woken before you and sent a sweet text before slipping out the door. Gaz and Johnny left together nearly clinging to each other for stability with quiet grumbles of their mysterious bruises. Konig rose heavily, his accent thicker with sleep when he hugged you goodbye and thanked you for the lovely night.

But John hadn't slept there; he'd stayed up past everyone along with you, helping you with the trash and streamers before sitting with you and just talking for hours. He told you about his family; his nieces and nephews that he missed so much, he told you how people like you are what allow him to bend and not break. But just before he left, he remarked he'd left his leather-bound notepad in the other room. He hadn't gotten to his feet before you were on your way to retrieve it for him, afraid that if you let him do another kind thing for you, you might start crying.

Carefully walking through the sleeping forms of your friends, you saw a faded journal on the desk that John had sat near for some of the party, retrieved it, and pulled a blanket over a shivering Simon before returning to the living room and seeing your Captain out the door.

It wasn’t until the first day back from your leave that you realized your mistake. You’d packed nearly everything to return to your on-base living space, but were tearing apart the apartment trying to find your journal. Images of an inspector or your landlord finding the pages where you’d laid your heart out flitted anxiously behind your eyes. That page. A neat T-chart you’d created on a whim, both to try a more organized method of expression, and to hide it all away on a physical copy. For yours eyes only.

One side, a list of attributes that kept you awake,

Stomach, thighs,

and also kept you in bed.

Voice -> too deep, cheeks,

A tangible admission.

The other half was meant to house what you did enjoy about yourself; the small things, the things you took solace in, the acts you did just because you knew it was the right thing to do. What you’re proud of.

But it only bore the marks of the times the ball of the pen had tapped the paper as you fidgeted. It was as empty as you felt when you tried to answer that question. ‘What do you like about yourself?’

Finally, beside the stand mixer, you saw a journal. But as you inspected it, it proved to not be yours. It was smaller, more pristine. Looking on the inside cover, your heart dropped.

J.P.

It had been days. He saw it. There was hardly any chance he hadn’t.

You sped on your way to the base, the horror and embarrassment feeling like fireworks being set off in your ribcage. You abandoned your luggage, first racing inside and impatiently tapping your FOB key to gain access to the office building and sprinting to his office, his rightful notepad in your hand.

Your heart pounded as you collected yourself enough to knock inconspicuously.

“It’s open.”

He was sitting in his mess of paperwork, one hand flipping through a folder in front of him while the other cradled a pen between his middle and forefinger.

“Bright and early, huh? You even moved back in yet?”

His eyes wavered briefly from what laid in front of him.

“Uh—no. No, I wanted to.. you left this.” You set down his notepad, your heart in your throat.

“Right.. got a bit switched up that night, didn’t ya?”

He reached into a drawer, handing you what was yours.

��Thanks. Can’t keep my head screwed on without writin’ shit down.”

You nodded, but still felt a tightness in your abdomen as you spoke.

“Did you happen to.. open this?” You faintly held up the journal.

His eyes flickered to you, then to the wall, then to his desk, his hand fidgeting uncomfortably.

“You should get settled in.”

You knew to accept his tone; the conversation was over.

The walk back to your car felt heavy, like you’d just been scolded by the principal. He hadn’t even done anything to criticize you, and yet you couldn’t shake the tension that stiffened your hand as you grasped the journal at your side. You shoved the journal between the tightened straps of a duffel bag, shouldering that and carrying the rest of your things to your room. Normally you would have one headphone in as you unpacked, taking breaks to visit with the people you hadn’t seen in weeks before wandering back into your space and setting up for another year of your service. But you’d gotten there early; you didn’t feel like music, you didn’t feel like turning the light on, you didn’t feel like doing anything. You opened your journal.

Stomach, thighs,

He’d crossed it.

Voice -> too deep, cheeks,

Why?

What was next to it seemed to release every tensed muscle in your concerned expression, an airy feeling rising in your head.

Perfections

Eyes like stars, soft cheeks

-K

Cute smile, soothing voice

-J.M.

Gorgeous face, stunning top to bottom

-K.G.

Body of a protector, mind of a friend

-S.R.

Wits of steel, feats of a mad woman

-J.P.

There were more, scattered down the page and into the next, the first column forgotten in a crashing sea of praising anecdotes, messages, and love.

Even if you couldn’t see the parts of yourself that were beautiful and important, they were still there.

[amyriadfthings]

So, this post happened, and then this, so then I thought okay why not, then I went out to vote, and then this little thing happened @brindlelogs

The candle on his desk went out unceremoniously after rousing him with its violent flickering.

Alfred Hillinghead adjusted his glasses and got up to stretch his aching joints and find another stump in Charlotte´s dwindling supply in the kitchen. He groaned from limbs that had gone stiff and realization that age was happening to him whether he agreed to it or not.

It´s not that he had dozed off exactly; his eyes had just gone unfocused after staring at latin terms and intricate illustrations for too long, and the flame not only jolted him back to reality, but also returned with it a helpful, neverending loop of „H e n r y“ riding a merry-go-round in his head.

Whenever he stopped to think at any point in the last 48 hours they were the only letters his brain seemed to want to string together, so he did what he could to populate it instead with any information he could find on South American butterflies exhibited in private or public collections in London over the last six years.

Back by his chair, he lit the new candle and shuffled the leaflets of various entomological associations that were strewn across his desk. He hoped one of them would hold a clue that could save his partner before he could get himself into a situation he could not get out of (because Alfred wasn´t there with him, and Henry was always so damn reckless).

He never knew London had so many passionate butterfly collectors.

But then again, teaming up with Henry was inevitably going to deliver surprises and revelations of all kinds. It´s what made him feel alive more than anything these days. That and Henry´s hands on his skin. (No, he chided himself. He must not think of that now. Nor his hands on Henry´s strong body willingly, eagerly arching up to him, fond eyes never leaving him, soft lips inviting him in, always ready to receive him… no.)

Alfred jumped up again this time, so vivid was the image in his mind. So warm Henry´s skin in his memory as if it were life and not mere thoughts he was conjuring up. He was suddenly enveloped by a need so mighty that it took his breath away and made him clutch at his waistcoat. His whole body seemed to miss Henry, after only two days. And no contact for another one at least.

Another issue was the steady stream of Henry´s voice that was gone from his ear, but not his mind.

He could hear Henry tease him, how unable to keep his focus Mr. Detective Inspector appeared to be. He´d probably even ruffle his hair, Alfred thought, which would earn him his best glare (his own hand going up to the side of his head without thinking, to imitate Henry´s touch), but that would only widen Henry´s grin and he might ask what could possibly be distracting him from his oh-so important work. He might even sit on Alfred´s armrest or...

Alfred´s cheeks began to burn when he looked down at his desk and thought back to how they had said a last urgent goodbye right on this very surface two and a half days ago, even though they had already done that and more extensively the night before.

A knock on the front door rushed him back to the present. It sounded hurried, but before Alfred could even leave the study, or wonder why the mysterious caller did not use the door bell, he heard the door open and close hastily, key turning, locking them in. The only one with a key besides Charlotte and Polly would be…

„Henry! What in the-,“ Alfred took two fast strides forward as a sodden Henry Ashe (his Henry) stumbled into the room (when had it started raining?), a cut along one eyebrow bleeding profusely down his face and staining his shirt (how long has he been bleeding??)

„Change of plans,“ Henry announced with a weak, self-deprecating smile, and winced as Alfred´s worried hands fluttered over him.

Finally, Alfred held Henry in place in front of him and closed his eyes for a second. „Alright. Sit down. Tell me everything. I´ll get the bandages.“

[meloncholy-words]

Crime Doesn't Wait For Us

Pavitr and Gayatri are having a sleepover, holding each other so lovingly and tenderly. Unfortunately, crime does not care what you may be doing.

A/N: I wrote this story over a few days and every time I picked it up it was past 9PM. As most of my stories are made, of course. So if it isn't super great I blame that, as I usually do. I swear I can't help it, I just don't feel like writing any other time T^T

~~~

Warnings: Mentions of past death and violence, but nothing explicit. Pavitr briefly goes into detail about a fight but it's very brief!

Pairing(s): GoldenClass(Pavitr x Gayatri)

AO3

~~~

Inspector Singh was very protective of his daughter, and disapproved of most boys that she knew. He did his best to make sure that she was nothing but safe and loved, and was overly critical of... Well, everyone. But even so, he did want to her to be happy. And if that meant eventually caving in to accepting her boyfriend, then maybe that's just what he had to do.

When Gayatri had formally introduced him to Pavitr, he couldn't really say that he was surprised. He had seen them, even when they thought that he couldn't. He could see how they leaned into each other, how an accidental brush of the hand usually lasted longer when they didn't realize that he was looking, how their hugs goodbye after school lasted longer than they probably should have.

Sometimes, he could even hear them in her room. Now that one was a bit concerning, as he wasn't really sure how that Prabhakar kid even got in there, but he never really said anything. They seemed happy, and he knew that his daughter was responsible enough to not do anything stupid while they were alone. He didn't know a lot about this kid, but if Gayatri was so happy with him, he didn't want to ruin that by pushing too hard.

When they had finally met, Inspector Singh could say that he, for once, approved. Pavitr himself seemed to be a good person. He was confident and loud, but he was also incredibly polite. He was patient and careful with his words, and he looked at Gayatri as if she was the only thing that he could. Now that was something that Inspector Singh could trust, especially with his daughter.

Despite that, he still set some boundaries for them. He did not mind Pavitr coming over to visit Gayatri, to even spend the night if he wanted. However, he did not approve of her going over to his place. It was easier to know that Gayatri was safe if she stayed home, and Pavitr seemed to understand that entirely.

Which was how they ended up here, having a little sleepover in Gayatri's room. There was music in the background playing from Pavitr's phone, some random song that they weren't paying attention to. They were sitting on the bed, legs crossed and facing each other as Gayatri painted his nails. Pavitr was ranting about his day, talking about school and his... other duties.

"So the robber swung at me, and then I ducked because of course I did - I'm Spider-Man, it's too easy - and so I landed a few hits, and then the robber-"

"Pavitr," Gayatri said, interrupting his speech softly, "you know I love you and everything about you, but please. Stop talking with your hands for just a moment, I am painting them."

"Oh, sorry," he said sheepishly. He hadn't even realized it, but his hands had lost themselves somewhere in the air while he was talking. Delicately, he gave the hand that she was working on back to her.

"It's alright, don't worry," she reassured. Her thumb ran gently over his knuckles, which were still slightly bruised. She brought it up to her lips, kissing them with care. "I know it's your job and all, but you should try to stop getting into so many fights. At least the unnecessary ones."

"You know I can't do that," he whispered, being mindful to not get so excited he waves his hands around again. "Every fight could be a necessary one to join. If I ignore it, something bad could happen. It certainly wouldn't be the first time."

Gayatri's hand stilled, the brush of the polish stilling at the tip of his nail as she felt the mood shift. Her eyes wandered up to his eyes, glossy and rather vacant. His eyebrows were furrowed slightly, almost unnoticeable. But she had known him long enough to be able to pick it out.

"So what happened next?" His eyes become focused at the sound of her voice, meeting her gaze. "After- after you got those hits in. You never finished the story."

Pavitr smiled softly, putting himself back into the moment. He felt infinitely lucky to have a girlfriend who cared for him so much, and who knew him so well.

"Ok, so, after I got in a few hits, the robber pulled out a gun and-"

"I think that's enough of the story."

Pavitr let out a short bark of laughter, curling forward and pressing his forehead to Gayatri's. She continued decorating his nails as he laughed to himself. Her eyes briefly glanced up to his joyous face, taking in the sight of his scrunched nose and wide smile. She was so happy to have someone like him to call hers.

"Alright, now you just need to wait for it to dry," she said as she coated his final nail. "Try not to rub it on anything, and don't use your hands too much until you're sure that they're entirely dry."

"Yes, ma'am!" Pavitr assured, curling his hands into bear claws. He let out a soft, playful growl as he did so, pulling a chuckle out of his girlfriend. "So uhhhh, what should we do now? While we wait for this to dry at least."

Gayatri pondered for a moment, racking her brain for things to do. "Well, I usually just watch a movie, or if I'm up to it just talk to my dad. But we probably shouldn't bug him, so... Movie?"

"Yeah, that sounds good! You can pick one, I don't care too much."

Gayatri and Pavitr settled into her bed comfortably, her laying against his shoulder with his head on hers. Pavitr had his hands interlocked with themselves resting on his chest to ensure they dry properly. Their legs were intertwined, and Gayatri had her laptop resting in her lap as she scrolled through a list of movies.

"Anything catch your eye?" Gayatri asked, continuing to scroll mindlessly through the options. "I've watched most of the good stuff, but I don't know what you've seen or not."

"Eh, not really, and I don't want to make you watch something you've seen before," came his reply as he leaned deeper into her scent. "What if we just watched the worst rated film on here?"

Gayatri paused her scrolling for a moment to contemplate his idea. She quickly opened up another tab, looking up what exactly the worst rated film would be. It was some animated movie, and it looked absolutely atrocious. It was perfect.

The character models were flat, yet somehow chunky. The voice acting was flat, made from people who didn't seem to even want to be involved in the movie. The story itself was all over the place, and neither could really describe it if someone else asked what it was about.

There were many laughs shared, mostly over how absurd the film was. They conversed back and forth about random things, sometimes not even related to what they were watching. Gayatri let out a few yawns, feeling tuckered out as the night progressed, and Pavitr let out many more.

In the final few minutes of the movie, Pavitr was entirely gone. He was snoring softly, face buried deep in Gayatri's hair and hands still locked with each other. Gayatri smiled warmly, deciding to let it at least finish. She had gotten this far, she may as well.

She was quick to back out of the movie once it had finished, opening up one of her shows to continue watching where she had left off. Pavitr was asleep, so she didn't feel too bad. She didn't get half way through the next episode when she had fallen asleep as well.

When the sun peaked through the curtains, Pavitr found his eyes opening slowly. He felt Gayatri's body heat against hers, smelling the perfume that essentially coated the room. There was an itch in the back of his head, alerting him that something was about to come up before it actually did.

Slowly, he wiggled himself out from under his girlfriend, laying her gently against his pillows. He crept over to the other side of her room where his bag was located, slipping his hand to the very bottom and pulling out his Spider-Man suit.

As quietly as he could, he slipped his suit over his muscular skin and fluffed his hair. Silently once more, he tip-toed back to the bed. His hand found its way on the side of Gayatri's face, caressing it softly. He planted a firm kiss onto her forehead, pressing their noses together.

"I have to go my love," he whispered. "I'm sure I'll be back before you awake, but I tell you now in case I don't"

The itch in his head began to grow, ringing through his ears in a steady and heavy thrum. He pushed the window open, attaching himself to the wall and making his way onto the roof. He perched himself on the ledge, patient and focused as he listened for any danger.

A scream to his left caught his attention quick, and soon enough he was jumping over the streets. Sometimes he wished that he could just sleep in, but that wasn't really how it worked.

Crime didn't wait, and neither could he. At least he would have something interesting to tell her when he came back.

[sebfreak]

My message to Seb:

*packing my luggage* So, that´s it folks. The end of the season is here and this means my f1 break is starting. I was dedicated to this sport for 22 years. Yeah I was five years old when I started watching it with my dad. I remember it like it was yesterday. A time where we had no recorder so I had to wake up 6am in the morning and sitting in a pyjama to watch f1. My dad was there too and we were always enjoying it. It was a tradition we´ve built up and we saw ups and downs during that time. And yes we witnessed during this time this young driver named Sebastian Vettel. 

When he won in Monza for the first time. This young boy made my dad smile and fanboy like a young kid. My dad you must know was a f1 fan for so many years. He remembered the 60s he saw the brutal side of this sport. He was so many times on the tracks, with his little radio (yeah in the past there was no live tv and lifescreen) he listened to the commentators and saw the sport changing. But he was never ever a fan of a specific driver until Schumacher came and then Vettel. And his first words were, while we saw this young boy standing at the top of the podium: “This kid there will be number one, believe me.” 

And he was right and we saw these four world titles. Unfortunately the end of Vettels dominance meant at the same time the end of an era. My dad died 2016 and since then I was watching f1 alone. Sometimes with my mum but many times alone because I followed Vettel and I wanted to follow him until the end. And this end is now here. Don´t get me wrong it´s not like I won´t watch f1 anymore but I need a little break. 

So, I´m gonna say goodbye to an era with Vettel and I´m sure he will find something new. (but please don´t make a Stefan Raab move) But I don´t wanna write sad things, I wanna do something different, so I´m trying to highlight his funny and good sides. 

So I´m saying thank you Seb, to a boy, who: 

- showed us his Vettel-Finger so many times 

- was/is strategist, mechanic, engineer, fireman but most importantly INSPECTOR!! (he is the only one who has this license) 

- made an appearance in Top Gear and was talking about white socks and driving an absolut shit car to the top list. 

- imitated Kimi perfectly and yeah they are best friends 

- who had a funny comment in every possible situation and made every situation more interesting for drivers and journalists and fans. Maybe it´s because of his german humor. (yeah we can be funny okay?)

- who pointed out that everybody is a ferrari fan and even if they say they are not, they are. (later we made it into a seb fan and oh boy we were right. everybody is a seb fan)

- listened to one of the most famous question: “Gentleman a short view back to the past..” (for me it´s one of the best question and one of the most interesting one, so give this journalist/reporter more credits <3) 

- had a marathon run in hungary 2021. 

- was and will always be a nerd (in a positive way). He is one of the biggest f1 fanboys out there and he was proud enough to show it to us in every situation.

- gave us Multi 21. A moment which gave us a possibility to discuss until today about it. And while we hated each other in the past (mark webber fans looking at you) today we are laughing about it. It was a controversy but it was also a funny and interesting moment. And yeah even my dad and me had the deepest discussion because of this situation. It took us five races to come to a conclusion. XD 

- brought f1 back to germany. This sounds weird for some of you but let me explain. After Michael, germany was so happy to have this little boy out there driving against one of the biggest names like Fernando Alonso. 

- although he had his sassy side he was always very kind and in the last few years he wanted to learn more about the world outside of f1. 

- was always a human and never ever tried to be somebody else he couldn´t be. 

-was always a f1 dad, a f1 friend, a f1 brother and a person who listened to everyone, especially to other drivers. 

- was once a pirate in Monaco. Arrrrr Seb. <3 

-wished Feliz Navidad to Perez. 

- gave us one of the most funniest mechanic pranks out there.  

- sang, ranted and joked on his teamradio and made us laugh, cry and fear. 

- broke records and gained achievements. He is one of the best and inspired so many people to start a racing career. 

-  made his debut with such a young age.

- put stickers (smiley faces) in his cockpit for each win. 

- was always called “little kid” by my mom and dad. (they are a little bit older so for them he was always a kid) 

- was the reason that my dad started being a little fanboy after Michael Schumacher. (yeah he really liked Seb) 

- who was the reason that I started with tumblr and made my own blog. 

- who gave me the opportunity to meet so many f1 fans and yeah at one point I had my own vettel fanclub (in a forum) with hundreds of people. 

- who inspired me to start writing stories (my first story was a seb fanfiction <3)

- who made me motivated enough to learn english because in school I couldn´t find the motivation. But he gave me the important push to learn it, to read it and to speak in this language (write posts, talk with people). 

So thank you Sebastian Vettel. A 4-time world champion who inspired so many people and made them laugh. Thank you for your wonderful era and no matter what I´m gonna be your fan and I will support you no matter what. You deserve your break but please don´t disappear forever. I know we gonna see you in ROC, so this message is meant for the time after that. 

Danke Seb! It was an honour to have met you and although you don´t know my existence it was a great and important time for me and you are a part of my family. If people gonna ask me which f1 era they should watch, I´m gonna show them your time. I´ll make sure that nobody is gonna forget you. 

And I´m not gonna put away my little Seb corner. It will always be there and I will think about his time in f1 which had so many great and funny moments: 

[thingummies-and-whatsits]

Lewis Fic Recs: Ghost Stories (Part 1)

Ghost stories for Samhain, with an emphasis on the spirits of loved ones who linger on with us after death. This list is far from exhaustive so please feel free to add your own favs!

The Haunted Bookshop by owlbsurfinbird

2,178 Words, James & Robbie, Robbie/Val, Rated G, No Archive Warnings Apply Alternate meeting. A mixture of melancholy and gentle hopefulness. A gentleman enters James' bookshop one Samhain and finds a book that's been waiting there for him for ten long years—and with it the possibility of a friend.

In Dreams by wendymr

5,602 Words, Robbie/Val, James & Robbie, Rated G, No Archive Warnings Apply A new bedside lamp brings Robbie strange dreams and he enlists James' help in figuring out whether or not they're real. Val's affectionately teasing presence is a soothing balm in the face of Robbie's unwillingness to let go of his grief.

A Guiding Hand by Elphen

2,922 Words, Robbie/James, Rated G, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings After pondering over his Inspector and the late DCI Morse, James finds a surprising figure appearing in his dreams to offer advice. The dialogue between Morse and James is the perfect combination of snark and sincerity.

The Blessing by Sarren

4,569 Words, Robbie/James, Robbie/Val, Rated T, No Archive Warnings Apply Deep in the forest on a camping trip on All Hallow's Eve, Robbie and James are discussing the British aristocracy, Robbie's recent break-up with Laura, and the right way to toast marshmallows when Val comes to chide Robbie for being his own worst enemy.

Spirit Music by Fabrisse

2,515 Words, Robbie/James, Robbie/Val, Rated T, No Archive Warnings Apply Over the years, a mysterious woman attends James' band concerts and Robbie realizes the mistake he's making. This fic also lets us see the station come out to support James and his music after he gets shot in Dead of Winter, which is very sweet.

Worth Dying For by LyricaXXX

20,615 Words, Robbie/James, Robbie/Val, Rated T, No Archive Warnings Apply An escaping suspect and icy footbridge send James hurtling into the water below. As Robbie struggles to reach him in time, a familiar voice calls out from the evening mists: Val, still looking after Robbie from beyond.

What Loves Have Come and Gone by paperscribe

28,579 Words, Robbie&^James, Robbie/Val, Robbie & Morse, Rated T, No Archive Warnings Apply Alternate Meeting. The ghosts have been there for as long as James can remember, speaking to him—and speaking through him to their loved ones. A dead woman's request to say goodbye to her husband in the supermarket sets off this tale of friendship, trust, and quiet caring.

Please Wake Me So I Can Dream Again by gatergirl79

38,824 Words, Robbie/James, Robbie/Val, Robbie & Morse, James & Will, Rated M, No Archive Warnings Apply James is struggling to move forward after Robbie's retirement, when a car accident sends them both to the hospital. As James lies in a coma, ghosts from past, present, and future show them what was and what could be. A bit of A Christmas Carol without the Christmas.

Welcome to My Nightmare by iloveyoudie

7,591 Words, Robbie/James, Robbie & Morse, Rated T, No Archive Warnings Apply: Canonical Character Death After death, a delightfully curmudgeonly DCI Morse lingers on, bound to Robbie by unfinished business. He stays through the loss of Robbie's wife, his attachment to the BVI, and eventually his return to Oxford where a new sergeant waits. Then Will McEwan commits suicide.

The Tragical History of Mr Hathaway by wendymr

5,555 Words, Robbie/James/Laura, Robbie & Morse, Rated T, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings A mysterious ghost saves James from death so that he can watch over Robbie for as long as Robbie needs after the loss of Val. Years later, when James' duty is fulfilled, the spirit returns for him—but Robbie and Laura are (wonderfully, stubbornly) determined not to let him go.

The Ghost and Mr Lewis by owlbsurfinbird

8,910 Words, Robbie & James, Rated T, Major Character Death, Alcohol Withdrawal Still grieving Val, Robbie returns to Oxford—and to a haunted flat. This poignant story is full of gentle melancholy and humor, and follows a friendship that spans grief and joy, life and death. Inspired by The Ghost and Mrs. Muir.

After This... by Somniare

100 Words, Gen, Robbie/Val, Rated G, No Archive Warnings Apply Robbie muses on those whose belief in the spirit world helps them through, and on the nature of loss.

[omegangrins]

Chibnall, Children, Choice and Consequence

Allow me to introduce a companion piece to A Treatise on the Doctor:

It's pretty simple:

Chibnall knows what he's doing and is playing a long game to show how the Doctor needs to take more responsibility.

Let me start off with my favorite examples. That's right, plural.

Every single villain 13 faces is never defeated, merely pushed away from causing them any immediate problems. Tim Shaw being the prime example.

1&10. Seriously, Tim Shaw. Her plan was to use his own bombs on him and then teleport him off the planet. Even without Ranskoor Av Kolos, the Doctor should have thought to check in on him. Especially after The Ghost Monument showed the Stenza were a greater threat than she knew. She still hasn't even checked up on WHAT THE HELL THE STENZA ARE! They sound worse than Daleks but naw, let's go rain-bathing in the upper tropics of Canstano instead.

2. Ghost Monument. We saw the END of an interuniversal race. What the fuck is the beginning that got them there? Who is Illyn and how and why did he orchestrate a super race?

3. Krasko. Sent back in time. Really, Doc? Not gonna take a look at the device and see where Ryan sent the prick so you can double check that he's not gonna cause anymore damage?

4. President Trump analog. Ooooo, you looked at him menacingly, Doc, that'll show him!! Not like he's gonna KEEP DOING ILLEGAL SHIT LIKE THIS.

5. The Pting. She literally shunted it off ship to be dealt with by someone else BUT DOESN'T GO BACK TO BE THAT SOMEONE ELSE ONCE SHE HAS HER TARDIS. That's like leaving a living nuke floating around after sweeping it under the rug while you fly off to Paris.

6. The Pakistani-Indian conflict still happens and millions still die. Not her fault but still....

7. Kerblam. Sure, Charlie's terrorism was solved but not the underlying problem that led to it. Humans still can't work because corporations like profits over people.

8. Similar to the Punjab, how you gonna solve sexism, classism and all the -isms?

9. WHY WAS THE SOLITRACT THERE IN THE FIRST PLACE??!! It's been around since before the universe. Why'd it decide to come back now? It's a whole universe trying to hug our universe to death. Maaaaaaybe we should check out why.

11. She's gets a pass on the Dalek. Fucking impossible to eradicate them.

12. The Master!!! Finally she checks up on something after the adventures... and it's horrible. With everything gone to shit in her absence. Seeing a pattern yet?

And Barton? And the Cassaven? They didn't disappear into smoke.

13. Multiple Earths being multiply fucked. Remember when I said the Doctor couldn't solve racism, classism, sexism, or any of the other -isms? Starting to look like she needs to TRY.

14. The Skithra FLY OFF after getting hit by a laser beam. That kind of thing tends to piss people off. Even if they're idiots using other's technology.

15. Jack. The Judoon. The Ruth Doctor. All things I'd start checking out if I had a time machine BUT

16. WE CAN'T cause the TARDIS emergency alert is going off and we need to hurry up and run and solve this problem before we run out of time in our TIME AND SPACE MACHINE. Leading to another problem the Doctor could help solve but won't. Plastic and over-consumption.

17. Oh yeah, let's trap two Eternals from another universe in the same place. There's NO WAY that could ever turn out bad.

18,19,20. And again. Cyberium. Pushed off Shelley onto herself and onto Ashad and onto The Master.

That's almost 20 "enemies" the Doctor still needs to deal with.

Oh, not to mention that they let UNIT go defunct because they didn't have the forethought to ask if they needed any money in their alien fighting budget. After asking for an office, a desk, and a job. Kinda funny that way, aren't they?

I hope by now you've gotten the idea that this is VERY deliberate. This is Chibnall laying down some very heavy pipe to smack the Doctor like a clothesline. There isn't a one of these situations that can't come around to bite her in the ass.

Barton, Roberts, Skithra. These are all very loose strands for a time traveller like the Doctor to get tripped up on. Chibnall's past episodes prove it. They're all about the Doctor learning how to take responsibility.

42: The Doctor almost gets Martha killed and almost gets himself killed trying to fix it.

The Hungry Earth: The Doctor (a thousand year old "adult") tells Elliot (a 10 year old kid) that "Sure it's totally fine to go get your headphones while we prepare for an approaching unknown alien force." And 11 rightfully gets his ass chewed for it by the child's mother when the kid goes missing because OF COURSE THAT'S WHAT HAPPENS, JACKASS!

Cold Blood: I could write an entire essay about the Doctor's guilt over the Silurian/Human conflicts they've witnessed, but I don't need to. Because every single Silurian centered episode written in the new era is from Chris Chibnall. And you can feel the sad knowledge of Classic Who spill through. He KNOWS how many times the Doctor has fucked up with the Silurians (about 8 times in television format. And it's rough everytime. Rough.) and he writes those episodes like an apology on behalf of the whole human race. And the Doctor. You know why people are put off by Warriors of the Deep? 5 releases a gas that melts the Silurians. And though it's cheesy, the idea and execution is still horrible.

Add to that if the Doctor hadn't stopped to check the crack, then Rory wouldn't have waited and been around to be shot then absorbed by the time crack.

Power of Three: An entire episode about how the Doctor has a problem slowing down and really taking account of the lives of their companions.

Dinosaurs on a Spaceship: The Doctor actually tries to be responsible and pick the right people for a job. For once. But gets angry when they realize it's too late and there's another bunch of Silurians they failed to save. Classic!

Like I said, if you can't see the pattern, you're not paying enough attention to your responsibilites.

Which leads me to the why.

When you fly around time and space for thousands of years, you develop a few duties of care along the way. In every situation, you're the oldest. Technically the only adult in terms of experience. You have a responsibility to act a little less rude and be a bit more aware than needing cue cards to tell you that you should be sad about things around you. And that's the purpose of 13. She's unlucky but learning. Like 12 telling himself something with his face he couldn't say out loud, 13's instincts are leading her to a new place for the Doctor: being a caring, responsible person. Not so much laughing hard or running fast, but being kind. It's the one thing they recognized as a problem in themselves when seeing 1. Being a Doctor is about being kinder than that. Just because you HAVE to saw someone's leg off, that doesn't mean you can't wait a little and comfort them before you do it.

You wanna know what gave me every faith in Chibnall showrunning Doctor Who? 13 staying for Grace's funeral.

Do you understand how unprecedented that is? This is the same person who never said Goodbye to Jo Grant as she got married and fucked off into the night. The same Doctor who said, "I don't do domestic.", did it with Rose a regeneration later, and then closed himself off to everyone but a married couple he felt guilty about who ended up birthing his wife. Have you any idea the number of funerals the Doctor should have the common decency to sit through? This many.

So for 13 to stay around for the death of a woman she has only just met and not only that, BUT call out Ryan's father for not doing the same, it shows tremendous character growth. It's taken millennia but they're still changing.

Something similar happens with Rosa and The Witchfinders. Realizing that there a lot of companions who have been in situations that are sometimes worse than aliens, but they still manage to make it through. So she needs to buck it up and persevere for everyone else.

That's where her anger comes from, and really it's one of my favorite traits on her. It reminds me of 7. Someone impossibly old and impossibly kind saying to hell with it and at least having some fun with the evils who drag us through the universe. And just like Cartmel planned for 7, 13's past will come to haunt her.

That's where children come in. Most of us are crying babies to the Doctor.

There's this thing you notice most in British shows about answering the question directly as asked. Someone says "Are you sure?", you answer "Sure". That's a direct acknowledgement that you heard the question, understood it, and processed it enough to respond in a manner directly correlating to the question asked. Yas and Graham got it and said "Sure" but Ryan missed it and said "Deffo". This is like Elliot with the headphones. The Doctor should have immediately been like, "Okay, Ryan, it's obvious that you're still dealing with the trauma of your grandmother's death and probably not processing things on a logical level. I said "Are you sure?" Not "Are you deffo?" Because we are most definitely not deffo, Ryan. Graham, you wanna help here?"

I'm being sarcastic for points sake but you understand the idea. The Doctor knows better and has a responsibility as such. She should've really sat down with Ryan and Graham and seen if there was a better way to process their grief.

Because I'm fairly certain that "Deffo" is gonna lead to Ryan's death and Graham's cancer resurging as time cancer (I don't know what time cancer is. I just know it's bad.)

And that is gonna piss Yas off. Which will give you all that character you think she's missing (she isn't. Her character is in her subtleties and silences.). That's WHY her character is a police officer (like how does no else see that the man who wrote Broadchurch wrote an inspector character companion?) Imagine you're Yaz and you see the Doctor flying around in a big, magic box that says POLICE. As a fellow officer, you're gonna expect some basic safety protocols.

Like do a background check on everyone flying in the TARDIS to know whether they're stable enough (mentally, physically, emotionally) for time and space travel. It's no picnic. These people are going to go through hell. A little vetting and planning like Time Heist or Dinosaurs on a Spaceship goes a long way.

Secondly, full fucking disclosure.

"Oh. I can't die because I change my body. Oh. I have arch enemies that will try to kill and torture us any chance they get. Oh. My home planet is full of the biggest assholes in the universe and I'm including my arch enemies."

Third, police like to do this thing called "check-ups" where they go back to the scene of the crime in order to see if there is any more information that can be gleaned which you might not notice when you are busy running around trying not to be killed... Like, the Doctor has the perfect machine to do this with, but nope. Adventure done, run to the next place!!

These are all things you'd expect any reasonable person to do and say when taking others flying off into time and space and "helping". Even if they are an idiot passing through and learning. Especially when you consider the Doctor is vastly older and more experienced than everyone they encounter. They SHOULD know better. And they've got the lifespan to slow down. It's not like they need to be in a hurry because they're going to die at any moment like humans. The Doctor could easily stay for tea and it would be less than a drop in their lifespan.

Now, as usually is the case when I make these theories, I have a parts 1,2,3,4 and 6. There's allways this 5th piece I miss but I manage to get at the end.

But the 6th piece is the Timeless Child. The Doctor isn't a Time Lord anymore. They're not beholden to those people and ideas anymore. Even moreso, those people basically raped her childhood for their own gain so it's not like you'd really listen to them and their "policy of non-intervention".

I'm sensing a coming Trial of a Time Lord season (even believing these two seasons are the opening statement and preliminary evidence of the trial itself) wherein the Doctor finally gets the turnaround 6 deserved. A Trial of the Time Lords, if you will.

"In all my travels through time and space I have battled against evil, against power-mad conspirators. I should have stayed here! The oldest civilization: decadent, degenerate and rotten to the core! Power mad conspirators? Daleks, Sontarans, Cybermen — they're still in the nursery compared to us! Ten million years of absolute power: that's what it takes to be really corrupt!"

This is what it's all coming down to. Chibnall's takedown of the Time Lords. And The Master is going to play the most crucial role of all.

They're going to be revealed as an Ux alongside the Doctor and show how the only constants they have in this universe are each other and it's about damn time they work together and tell these high collars to eat Schitt while they explore every star and planet they can find.

Come on, the episode is called The Timeless "Children". If it was just the Doctor it'd be called "The Timeless Child". The Master says as much with the misdirect line, "built on the lie of the Timeless Child." since we see two kids playing in that flashback.

"Since always. Since the Cloister Wars, since the night he stole the moon and the president's wife, since he was a little girl. One of those was a lie, can you guess which one?"

Now we know which one was a lie, we know the Master HAS known the Doctor since they were a little girl. THAT little girl...

But this is all just speculation. It's not like Chris Chibnall could have been thinking about this for the past 40 years and was given a blank slate to do whatever he wanted for five years on his favorite TV show. If y'all want to think he took those reigns and is choosing to make things worse...

Well then you don't know much about responsibility.

I'll let the man himself tell you about it.

"Very early in my career,” says Chibnall, “someone told me that you learn more from a failure than you do from a success. And then I lived out that phrase for a year in Los Angeles. I learned that I would not work that way again or be put in that situation again.” The essential lesson was: “You either have to be in total control of a show or working with people who share your vision and will work with you to achieve it. Also, never work with 13 executive producers.

“Camelot was the classic case of too many cooks. It wasn’t a harmonious set-up and I think that does manifest itself on screen.

“I had a fantastic cast but you have to be free to tell the story you want to tell in the way that you want to tell it. What ended up on screen was not what I wanted and so it is a blemish on my CV.”

Credit to @thirteenthdoc

“You immortals - so entitled, so spoiled. You never clear up after yourselves and you always leave stuff lying around.” - Thirteenth Doctor in Can You Hear Me?

[sablelab]

Covert Operations - Chapter 61

DISCLAIMER: This is a modern AU crossover story with Outlander and La Femme Nikita. LFN and its characters do not belong to me nor do those from Outlander.

SYNOPSIS:   Claire reports back to Section One with important Intel about her suspicions and with extra Intel about the triads with the names of potential suspects for Fergus to run a check on.  Jamie returns to Section One just in time to hear the briefing.

MY THANKS to all those who are reading, liking or reblogging my story. THANK YOU. Previous chapters can be found at … https://sablelab.tumblr.com/covertoperations

  CHAPTER 61

  When Claire returned to her apartment that night, she dropped her keys on the bureau, kicked off her shoes and padded into her living room.

It had been a very eventual day and she had important intel that Fergus needed to know.  Her meeting with Inspector Ng and the briefing had raised many concerns for her that may eventually lead to the one who was passing on information to the Rising Dragons. Hopefully this intel would bring their End Game closer and her mission at the OCTB to a quick conclusion.  Having spent a month or more on the Madame Cheung mission profile with Jamie, she hoped that this one would be brief.  It would mean that they were making rapid inroads to a final conclusion and would be a win-win for Section One.  All being well then, hopefully Operations and Madeline would grant her and Jamie some much needed downtime when the mission was completed.  She would really love to lay on a breach somewhere far away from Hong Kong and chill out for a while.

With these encouraging thoughts in mind Claire flopped down on the couch and immediately got in touch with Section One.

“Fergus are you there?” 

“I'm here Beauchamp. Have you got something?” 

He listened as Claire relayed some of the new Intel that had been discussed at the briefing and some of her other concerns that she had noted.  However just before severing the communiqué with him she stated, “There is one other thing ...” 

“Yeah?” He replied listening intently as she elaborated on the extra information and what she had observed since being at the OCTB.

“... Did you get all that Fergus?” 

“Geeze Claire ... I'll have to clear that with Operations,” he stated gobsmacked at what she had told him.  

“Then, do it.” ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Fergus took off his comm. unit and stared at his computer screen for several minutes just absorbing the information that Claire had communicated. Her words kept revibrating in his head.  Could it be possible?  Had Inspector Jiang Ng been the one to suppress the Intel concerning anyone associated with the Rising Dragons? Was he working directly for Sun Yee Lok or somebody else? Was the head of the Organised Crime and Triad Bureau really the plant? Claire had said it was entirely possible that he was the mole.  Was there a triad war looming? Operations and Madeline wouldn’t like that. Were they closer to finding Jonathon Randall?  If all this proved to be accurate then this was epic news that his superiors needed to hear.

So much information filled his brain with possibilities that needed to be checked, but he would relish the challenge of finding the connections Section One needed to ascertain the best way to profile the next stage of the mission.    Fergus was shocked by the Intel Claire had passed on and he couldn’t wait to inform Operations in person.  Leaving his communications station, he hurried along the corridors of Section towards the Perch. Her info had blown his mind. It seemed that she may have found out the very evidence that Section needed to make a move and sooner than they would have expected. If this data proved to be true then Section One would be expecting a visit from Inspector Jiang Ng in the not too distant future.

While walking briskly along the corridors towards the Perch, Fergus hurriedly rounded a corner and nearly ran smack dab into Operations.  A little out of breath he stopped short just before bumping into Section One’s leader.

“Sir, I was just on my way to come see you,” he stated breathlessly.

“What is it Mr Claudel?”

“I’ve just received a message from Claire. Intel that she’s found out could be promising in capturing not only the mole at the OCTB but also Jonathon Randall.” Operations was pleased. “Excellent ... Anyone we already know?” “No.” “Who then?” He asked a little impatiently. Dougal Mackenzie always expected his techie to have the answer before he asked the question rather than have nothing concrete to report.  Why waste his time?  If he was not on the ball already and had found out something relevant then this was a wasted conversation. However, Fergus couldn’t contain his enthusiasm and blurted out the most damaging update. “Claire suspects that it may be the chief of the Organised Crime and Triad Bureau himself ... Inspector Jiang Ng.” “Do we have Intel on him?” “I’m working on it now.” Operations quickly changed his tune realising that his techie was indeed following through on Claire’s Intel. “Good to hear Fergus.  I’m glad that you have made some inroads this will be beneficial when we debrief.” “Claire has confirmed our suspicions that Jonathon Randall may be involved with the Rising Dragons also.” “Good.” “She’s made plans for surveillance of The Triangle nightclub tomorrow night to check out the possibility that Inspector Jiang Ng is involved with Jonathon Randall and has connections to the Rising Dragons.” The news was getting better. “Excellent.” “There was one other thing too sir.” “What?” “The OCTB is checking out rival triads ... it seems that there is suspicion amongst them over Tony Wong and Madame Cheung.” “Get on it ASAP Fergus. We need to keep ahead of their investigations. There’s always the possibility that someone may recognise Claire and then her cover will be compromised and all our good work will be for naught.” “I’m on it.” “You have 24 hours. Can you handle it?” “Yes sir ... I can work within that time frame.” “Good.  Then proceed.” ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Fergus Claudel returned to Systems with orders to cover all bases. Because they had invested so much time, energy and resources on the Rising Dragons’ missions, Section had been stretched a little thin. It had been their main priority despite all the other missions of late, but they had come too far to go back now. If Claire’s cover was compromised Fergus knew he would be in deep trouble, after all it was, he who devised the mission profile for her in the first place. However, he had anticipated any glitches that could occur and had a contingency back-up plan as a failsafe. Jamie’s return was imminent for the mission in Senegal had taken less time than anticipated, and that would be a good thing too if he was needed on this mission as support for Claire.

Immediately sitting down at his console, Fergus set to work. He hoped he would have all that he needed by the morning when Jamie was due to return then he would be able to debrief his leaders. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The next morning, Madeline entered the Perch to find Operations in an animated discussion on the phone. He acknowledged her presence with a glance and nod then returned to his conversation. 

“Colum ... We haven’t heard from you in a while.” “So how are things in Section One Dougal?” “Good ... Thank you.” “Any development on Sun Yee Lok?” “As a matter of fact ... there is. We’re getting closer.”  Operations replied giving his superior no more information that the bare minimum. There was no way in hell that he or Madeline wanted any interference from their governing body at Oversight with this mission.  Column, as its leader, had always been a thorn in their side and they tolerated him at best.   “Excellent. I see One is maintaining its success rate. The previous missions have severely handicapped the Rising Dragons interests.” “Thank you brother. I appreciate you saying that. We’re doing what we can.” “Oversight would expect nothing less. Am I right?” “But of course.” “Keep me informed. You have fifteen days.  Goodbye Dougal.” “Colum.” Dougal’s reply was succinct as usual whenever he spoke with his brother and replacing the receiver in its cradle, he turned to look at Madeline who asked, “He was pleased?” “Oh, yes. He wants a complete report in fifteen days. I want him to think he’s getting one ... understood?” “Perfectly.” “Fergus says that Claire has provided early Intel that has given us an exceptional projection and he has been working on it. We should know something soon.” “So, we’re making excellent progress then.” “Yes, I’ve seen the numbers.” ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

 While they were discussing Colum Mackenzie’s call, suddenly there was a beep and an operative’s voice echoed in the Perch. “Sir, James Fraser has returned.” “Send him in.” Glancing towards Madeline with a look that spoke volumes Operations stated, “Fergus or Murtagh must have sent word to him. He’s obviously escalated the Mission to have returned so quickly.” “Yes ... but nothing should surprise us where Jamie is concerned,” she replied. “You’re right as usual Madeline.” The two leaders of Section One turned when their Level 5 Operative entered the Perch and stood at ease. Jamie was an excellent operative … their best really … and if he could contain a situation quicker than expected then he would do so.  However, they suspected that the expediency of this mission was accelerated because he would want to know how Claire was faring on her new assignment.  Jamie would never admit that this was the case but they knew there was a close bond between the two operatives that could not be shaken no matter how hard they had tried. As of yet, they could not ascertain if it was a romantic bond or just one of mentor and material despite Madeline suspecting that it was more than platonic.   They both stated as James Fraser stood waiting for Operations to speak. “Welcome back James.” “Thank you.” “The mission was successful.” “Verra.” “Excellent. Your team managed 100% containment quicker than we thought.” “Yes.” His superior then cut to the chase and told Jamie of the status of the triad mission.  “You’ll be pleased to know that Fergus has new Intel on the Rising Dragons. So unfortunately, you won’t be having any downtime.” “You will be on Close Quarters Standby as there will be a new mission pending to Hong Kong tomorrow,” Madeline added watching Jamie intently to see his reaction to this information.  However, there was not even the blinking of an eye as he stood there listening to what his leaders had to say. “Fine.” Operations continued. “There’s a briefing later this afternoon. Your Senegal debrief can wait.” “It’s finished.” Jamie stated matter-of-factually with his usual succinct statement. “Very well then .... have it on my desk ASAP.” “Yes sir.” “That will be all. You can go, Fraser.” Both leaders stood as one and watched the retreating back of their Level 5 operative ... then glanced at one another without needing to say a word. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Thankfully, he had written his debrief on the Senegal mission on the Section plane on his return, and having given his report to Operations as requested, Jamie made his way to the Ready Room to grab some much needed shut eye before being summoned to the briefing table later that afternoon. Although his body ached from the bruising he had incurred on this past mission, he hadn’t sustained any major injuries. It was nothing that some much-needed rest wouldn’t fix and it was all he required to replenish and revitalise his spirit. His team members were not so lucky though, and were in Medical being checked out.

Knowing that his Claire was safe and all was well was the best news he could have received, but he needed to hear her voice to know for sure.  His first priority, therefore, before his weariness took its toll was to contact his love as to his return to Section One.

“Sass-en-ach…”

Her name rolled off his tongue in a loving caress.

Jamie had not had any communication with Claire at all since his meeting with Superintendent Zheng and her beginning her undercover operation at the OCTB. He knew that she would be wondering why he had not had any contact with her and no doubt by now Claire was getting a little testy due to the lack of interaction.  However, the Senegal mission had taken him away from Section One as well as taking all his efforts to contain the matter so that he could return as soon as possible. The mission had also been fraught with danger and he needed to have his full concentration on what was at stake and knew that Claire would worry if she knew that the situation was hostile.

 No doubt his Sassenach had her ear to the ground in the early stages of her transfer and was keeping a watchful eye on the comings and goings at the Bureau.  Jamie knew that she was more than capable and was an exceptional operative who could take care of herself, but that didn’t mean that he never worried about her, because he did.  His Claire was always on his mind and her voice haunted his thoughts at night when he closed his eyes. They were partners who were also lovers and her welfare would always be of the utmost priority to him.   He patiently waited for a reply from the other end and closed his eyes in relief when he heard Claire reply. The sound of her dulcet tone in his ear was like a soothing balm to his weary body.  

 “Ja-mie …”

 He could hear the relief and longing in Claire’s voice as she uttered his name so achingly while her voice caressed each syllable of Jamie as if she was placing kisses to his lips. God how he had missed her. He’d missed her terribly, missed the sound of her voice, missed seeing her by his side and he’d missed the kisses they shared. He was trembling with it, with the need to see her, touch her, have her tight against him. Nothing else mattered. There’d be words, there needed to be words, but those could wait. Everything could wait. The thought of having her seem near is what he had wanted most of all.  Just the sound of her voice was enough to feel her presence and Jamie hung on to the sound of his name on her lips.

It had been a couple of weeks and he longed to see her and all he really wanted to do was hold his Sassenach in his arms. However, knowing that he might see her soon made the separation a little more bearable.  Madeline had said that another mission to Hong Kong was being planned and no doubt he would be on a surveillance team and that was why he was on Close Quarters Standby. The mission could be set in motion at any moment and he needed to be prepared but hopefully he could catch some shuteye before leaving.

The intel that Fergus had been correlating meant that the new mission would be in play shortly after the briefing this afternoon and that another triad member would soon be a guest at Section One.  It could very well be the lead they were after to finally get closer to finding Sun Yee Lok.  These peripheral members of the Rising Dragons had all given Section vital information but as yet the Dragon Head had remained elusive. Perhaps this time he would slip up and be more visible.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Fraser! ... Briefing in 10 minutes!”

The sound of Operations’ directive woke him from his sleep. How long he’d slept for he didn’t know? It mustn’t have been that long but it was enough to give him the energy he needed. Jamie got up and made his way to the Briefing Room. Operations was standing in front of the briefing table while Fergus, Murtagh, Abernathy, Wakefield and Madeline were seated quietly waiting. Jamie was the last to arrive. He took his seat without so much as a look at those gathered, and sitting stony faced with his blank patented stare, he waited for Operations to begin the debrief.

As if to stress the importance of this mission, Dougal Mackenzie leaned his hands on the briefing table, glanced briefly at all those who were gathered then he began to speak without any preamble. 

“Claire has provided us with the names of people she suspects are the mole and members of the Rising Dragons triad. Detective Raymond Koo ... Undercover Agent Eric Yong ... and Inspector Jiang Ng.” Madeline leaned back in her chair and stated, “We have to assume that the mole could be any one of these three OCTB operatives and he is working for the Rising Dragons.”

Looking directly at Jamie she added, “We need to find out which one.” “Did Claire elaborate on why she suspected these men?” Jamie asked trying to decipher in his own mind who may be the most logical one to be the mole at the OCTB.

 “Raymond Koo asked questions as to Madame Cheung’s disappearance.  Was he trying to ask if they knew who was involved in her mysterious disappearance or merely asking an innocent question? Claire wasn’t sure but the Inspector was of the view that another triad group was responsible,” Fergus declared before summarizing further.  “Eric Yong was taken off a surveillance case on Jonathon Randall.  Perhaps he too was getting too close to exposing him as a triad member and the Chief Inspector clipped his wings.” 

Jamie said nothing just nodded his assent leaving him with the most obvious choice which ultimately would have been Claire’s as well.  These two men were not the spy. Glancing around at those gathered Fergus Claudel added more clarification. “I cross-correlated data found on each of these men and discovered that each one has had contact with Jonathon Randall who is linked to the Rising Dragons.” “So, guilty by association?” “Yes Jamie, but we feel that the others are mere passing associations of no consequence and more than likely just doing their job.” Madeline interjected.  “However, our main focus is on Inspector Ng and Jonathon Randall himself.”

Continuing Operations then relayed his synopsis. “Claire’s Intel would suggest our mole had help from the highest level or is privy to classified information. Therefore, Inspector Jiang Ng ... the head of the Organised Crime and Triad Bureau is our main target.”

Pulling up a Blue Screen of a Chinese man who it was difficult to gauge his correct age but probably was round about 35 to 40 years old, he indicated to his Techie to relay what he had discovered. “Fergus?”

“Inspector Jiang Ng is a hard nosed elusive leader who projects an image of ruthlessness. He has risen within the ranks quickly and has been well decorated for services in fighting crime in Hong Kong.  He’s suave, brash and confident ... has plenty of money to throw around and enjoys nightclubbing and gambolling.”

“On his salary this would suggest he is getting a kickback from someone.” Madeline stated before Operations spoke again.

“Our Intel also suggests that he always seems to be one step ahead of the other police departments which impresses his superiors but his methods in apprehending suspects borders on viciousness.” Once more Fergus elucidated the intel he had managed to find out. “The other reason is his clever manoeuvring of department personnel and his tactics in predicting triad behaviour with the help of his highly placed police informers. He is excellent in playing one police department against the other which interfered with each others’ investigations to the point that they blocked each other out, bringing investigations to a standstill ... except for those he had instigated.” “This is highly suspicious.” Madeline concluded which left those at the briefing agreeing with her. “Exactly.” “For that he was not well liked, but this doesn’t seem to bother him. Inspector Jiang Ng it would seem is far too smooth, too in the know, too enlightened and for that reason, Claire has him earmarked as someone to watch closely.” Operations briefly straightened as he studied everyone's perception of Fergus's Intel before continuing. “The second important man is Jonathon Randall.  He’s of British and Chinese ancestry and an entrepreneurial multi millionaire who is the owner of The Triangle nightclub.”

Jamie listened intently as his leader continued but what he heard next gave him cause to be a little concerned.

“Claire has told us that she will be in attendance at the nightclub Saturday night, and will debrief in the morning,” Operations stated dropping the Blue Screen’s remote back onto the table as he concluded the briefing.  “This means that she will be in the key position to survey the premises and to make contact with this Jonathon Randall.”  He then had the final word, “We're converging on the mole. But we have a couple of options. ... I'd like your input Jamie.” 

Nodding he replied, “Of course. I’ll work up a profile.”

   *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ to be continued

[emperorsfoot]

Scorpia and Sea Hawk finally arrive on Beast Island and are met on the dock by Micah. 

From far away, it looked like a pile of colossal-sized animal skeletons rising up out of the ocean. Far larger than the skeleton Scorpia saw in the Crimson Wastes. Beast Island truly looked as… beastly as the stories portrayed it.

But as the Dragon’s Daughter Five drew closer, she could see that it was not several skeletons piled on top of each other. It was cliffs and ridges curving down to the water line. Covered by low-hanging and dropping vines from the jungle that gave the illusion of ribs and spine. It was not a pile of bones climbing out of the sea. It was just normal bedrock and earth.

“The Horde’s prison is supposed to be on the other side.” Sea Hawk was saying. “We can either find a safe place to drop anchor and cross the jungle to the compound, or sail right up to the prison’s harbor. You used to be pretty high up in the Horde. What would you suggest?”

Scorpia looked back at the island. She didn’t know much about the jungles of Beast Island. Only that they were filled with man-eating beasts, and savage natives that hunted them. She did not know how to navigate the jungle and she wasn’t sure she could guide herself and Sea Hawk through it and still be in any sort of condition to actually stage a rescue. Shaking her head in resignation, she turned back to her companion.

“We’ll have to pull into the compound’s harbor.” She told him. “I don’t have my Force Captain badge anymore-“ because she cut it in half to pay Sea Hawk “-but we can do the thing that you did in the Fright Zone. We’ll say we’re inspectors. Here for an inspection. Inspector Pirate, and Inspector… uh… Lynda. I’ll be Inspector Lynda.”

He would have thought she’d pick a more dramatic name, but okay. Sea Hawk steered the ship around the island so that they would come up directly in front of the prison compound and pull into their harbor as if they belonged. “Adventure!”

…

As much as Micah just wanted to go the heck home already, he also had a responsibility to the prisoners he freed. He had to make sure they got off the island safely and were on their way to their own homelands and territories before he could leave and go to his own home and family. That was the burden of leadership. A leader had to take care of those he lead before he took care of himself.

He hadn’t seen Angella or Glimmer in ten years, he could wait another day while he sorted escapees onto the boats in the captured Horde harbor.

One prisoner shook his hand as he was about to climb onto the gangplank. “Listen, man…” Micah recognized his voice as the rude one from two cells over from his. “I’m sorry about mocking you for missing your family. I never expected to get out of there, and your irrational hope was just making things worse for me. But it looks like maybe you were right all along.”

Micah had no idea what to say to that. So he just shook the other man’s hand back and did not comment.

“I’m from the Fallen Star Mountains.” Said the prisoner. “It’s on the other side of Brightmoon. I have to pass through to get home. I’ll tell that Queen of yours that you’re not dead and you’re coming home to her.”

“Tell her I never stopped thinking about her.” Micah asked. “There’s just a few more things I have to do here. But we’ve taken over the Horde’s Beast Island base, and the native Jungle Tribe is willing to join the Alliance –assuming there even still is an Alliance anymore.”

“The Fallen Star Mountains are ruled by the Star Sisters.” The other man informed him. “I’ll see if I can’t urge them to join your Alliance too.”

Now Micah held his hand more firmly, shaking with more enthusiasm. “I would be thankful if you did! The Star Sisters would be powerful allies!”

“I’m Sirius, by the way.” He said.

“Serious by nature, and Sirius by name.” Micah smiled. He needed to get back on his pun-game if he planned on being a Dad to his daughter. Gosh! He hadn’t made a dad-joke in ten years!

“Sure. Let’s go with that.” Sirius pulled his hand out of the sorcerer’s grip and climbed the gangplank onto the ship.

Feeling irrationally optimistic –or, perhaps perfectly rational to be optimistic- Micah turned back to the rest of the freed prisoners, still waiting on the dock. There were only four ships in the harbor, but they were big ships and could carry all the prisoners. The difficult part was figuring out who needed to get on which one. Micah spent the majority of the night after the Great Beast had left pouring over a map of Etheria and trying to decide which were the four best ports to send the ships to, to get everyone home. Then trying to figure out where ‘home’ was for each prisoner and sort them onto the ships accordingly.

Other prisoners expressed similar sentiments as they bit their farewells to Micah and boarded the ships. Not promises to visit Brightmoon and speak to Queen Angella about him. But to speak to their own Princesses or Queens about joining the Alliance.

“I was captain of the guard for Queen Peekablue’s daughter.” One woman informed him. “I had the Queen’s trust and the Queen’s ear before I was captured. I’ll speak to her about the Princess Alliance. She didn’t want to join originally because she knew it would fail-“ Peekablue’s magic was the gift of foresight, when she knew something, she knew it “-perhaps she’ll See differently now.”

A man getting on the same ship as Peekablue’s former captain of the guard stopped to inform him, “I was a soldier of Sweet Bee’s hive.” He placed a fist to his chest and Micah assumed it was meant as a salute. “My Queen rarely does anything without seeking Peekablue’s council. She values the other Queen’s insight –among other reasons- but I will urge her to join the Alliance all the same.”

“Thank you.” Perhaps Micah was a little more passionate than he needed to be. But after spending ten years doing nothing but sitting in the cell, if felt amazing to finally be accomplishing things again. Within the space of a few days, he had escaped from prison, met new allies, gone back to the prison and freed the remaining prisoners, and now was being given promises of possible new allies for their Alliance and Rebellion. Micah was feeling just a little giddy. High off optimism.

He was still optimistic and –for lack of a better word- high, as he watched the four ships pull away from the docks. Waving goodbye as if parting ways after an extended vacation, and smiling like a fool.

Micah stood there until the boats were almost out of sight. Disappearing beyond the horizon.

He was about to turn and go back inside. See how Entrapta was doing inside the compound. But then something else caught his eye.

At first he was concerned that there was something wrong with one of the ships that caused them to turn around and come back. Engine trouble, or spoiled provisions, tainted water, sickness, or any other number of problems that could occur on a large vessel like the ones employed by the Horde.

But as he squinted at the tiny dot on the horizon, he realized that it wasn’t one of the commandeered and repurposed Horde ships coming towards them.

This vessel was smaller. An open deck design. Raised off the water like a hydrofoil. With white sails. Definitely, definitely not a Horde vessel. No Horde boat in all of Etheria would have white sails. Black, red, brown, violet, or gray; yes. But not white. As it came closer, the name on the side of the vessel became readable, identifying it as the Dragon’s Daughter Five, and ‘five’ was spelled out in letters, not abbreviated as V or with a numeral.

Micah was still gawking, confused, when the Dragon’s Daughter Five pulled right up to the dock he was standing on and a man wearing a jewel-tone blue jacket over a white shirt (also, not Horde colors or uniform) threw a rope over the side.

“Hey, tie that off for me, will ya?” He said.

Blinking, moving more on auto-pilot as opposed to making any conscious decision, Micah did as he was asked. Tying off the boat that was most definitely not a Horde boat to the dock. He tugged on the line a couple times just to make sure it was secure. He lived on land almost his whole life and knew very little about the appropriate knots for securing watercraft.

He must have done alright, because the sailor seemed satisfied enough to jump off the boat to the accompanying cry of, “Adventure!”

Up close, Micah could see that he was actually quite young. With a youthful face and demeanor that implied late teens, but a thick and well groomed mustache that implied early twenties. He offered a hand to someone else in the boat.

The man’s traveling companion definitely, definitely looked like she could have been Horde. Dressed all in red armor. A Horde color. But there was no insignia on the armor. No winged sigil of the Horde. No badges identifying her as a soldier of their army. She was just wearing red.

Micah stood there, staring.

Upon really taking note of him, the pair also paused. Staring at an equal loss as to what to do.

“You don’t look like a Horde soldier.” Said the woman.

“You don’t look like Horde soldiers either.” Micah shot back. Except, she kinda did look exactly like a Horde soldier, just without the trademark Horde insignia.

The man cleared his throat awkwardly, and in a voice that was noticeably deeper than when he asked if Micah could tie off the boat said, “That’s because we’re not Horde soldiers. We’re Inspectors. Yes. And we’re here for the inspection.”

“Inspection?” He echoed, not believing it for a second.

It would have to be one incredible coincidence that there was an inspection scheduled –literally- the day after a mass prison break in which the prison was taken over by the island’s natives. As a practitioner of magic, Micah knew such absurd coincidences did happen, but not very often. Besides, their vessel was not a Horde vessel, the man was not dressed like a member of the Horde at all, and the woman who was dressed like a Horde was missing all the important identifying insignia. These kids –and, yes, Micah was calling them kids now, they could not have been much older than his own daughter- these kids were not members of the Evil Horde.

“Yes.” Nodded the man. “The inspection. I am Inspector Pirate, and this here is my associate, Inspector Lynda.”

“Lynda?” Micah echoed, the name sparking some long ago and half-buried memory. He took another look at the woman that was dressed as a Horde. Tall, easily the tallest one of the three of them. And thick-built too. With snow-white hair and dark eyes. Pincer claws in place of hands, and behind her a scorpion tail swayed nervously. The red armor wasn’t Horde armor, it was an exoskeleton. The exoskeleton of a scorpion. And she said her name was ‘Lynda’…? “You can’t be. You’re too young to be Lynda D’Ream!”

Her daughter maybe?

Micah was still a student in Mysticor when the Queendom of Scorpiones was taken over by the Horde and their Runestone given to Hordak in exchange for the life of the Queen and her daughter. Scorpiones fell under Horde control and became the Fright Zone, and Queen Lynda D’Ream became a political hostage to keep those loyal to her under control.

At least, that was what Micah heard. He was only just a child at the time and nobody ever really told him much about the terrible things that happened below their floating magical island. Nobody except Light Spinner, but that was a childhood trauma for another flashback.

Micah knew the Queen of Scorpiones had a daughter. She would have only been a year old when she lost her Queendom and was taken from her mother.

“How do you know- ?“ The scorpion woman began, then cut herself off abruptly.

Her companion looked at her, the slightest bit of concern seeping into his expression.

Then she straightened, regaining composure and clearing her throat. The scorpion woman, ‘Lynda’, fixed Micah with a critical glare. “That is not a standard issue uniform.” She informed the sorcerer. “Are you an officer? If not, we’ll have to dock points for a uniform violation.”

“I am an officer, actually.” Micah grinned at her. He had already come to a conclusion about this pair that had pulled into the harbor in a shit that was definitely not a Horde ship, dressed in clothes that were not Horde uniforms, with a flimsy story that did not hold up to scrutiny. “A pretty high ranking officer. In fact, I’m not just an officer. I’m a King, and Leader of the Rebellion.”

For half a second, the two stared at him, dumbfounded. But only for half of one second.

Then they both snorted. As if he were funny. As if he’d just made a joke. As if they didn’t believe him.

“No you’re not.” Said ‘Lynda’. “The leader of the Rebellion is Princess Glimmer of Brightmoon.”

At the mention of his daughter’s name, it felt like a current of lightning ripped through Micah. Glimmer, his Glimmer, was leader of the Rebellion? But she was so young! Sure she would have grown up a bit in the ten years he was trapped on Beast Island –in his mind, Micah was still imagining a toddler- but she still had to be in her mid-teens. Fifteen. Maybe sixteen if he was being generous. But certainly not old enough to be in charge of a massive military organization like the Princess Alliance.

“I’ve met Glimmer.” Added Inspector Pirate. “And she’s definitely not you.” A pause. “Although, you do look a little like her.”

Micah sputtered for a moment.

He stared at the pair. They met Glimmer. They knew his daughter. Where they friends? Were they also members of the Princess Alliance? If the scorpion woman really was the daughter of Lynda D’Ream then she was definitely a Princess. Had she joined the Alliance to avenge her mother and take back her Queendom? Did the Alliance send them? Was this a prison break? Were they here to rescue him? Did Glimmer send them?

“Are you with the Alliance?” He finally managed to ask.

There was another pause.

The two looked at each other, suddenly unsure.

“Of course not!” Insisted Inspector Pirate. “We’re Inspectors. We’re here for the inspection.”

“Yes.” Agreed ‘Lynda’. “Beast Island is overdue for an inspection.”

“Really?” Micah crossed his arms over his chest and giving these young people –these children- a Look. “You’re gonna stand here and try to convince me that you’re Horde. After I just told you I’m King Micah of the Rebellion.”

“Listen, guy, for all we know, you’re just some crazy dude who lives on the island.” Inspector Pirate informed him. “I’ve run into crazy island-dwelling hermits more often than you’d think.”

“Also, it’s a widely-believed fact that King Micah died ten years ago.” ‘Lynda’ added.

Okay, Micah was getting real tired of this back and forth real quick. Drawing a new sigil in the air, he cast a spell on both of them. His truth spells were some of the strongest in all of Etheria. No one could resist it. No one could lie while under it.

The pair blinked after the sigil passed through them. Unsure of what he just did. They had enough experience around magic to recognize it when they saw it, but not what kind of magic it was.

“Alright, let’s start again.” Micah announced. “What are your names?”

“I’m Scorpia.”

“Sea Hawk.”

Micah nodded. He never knew the name of Queen Lynda’s daughter, but ‘Scorpia’ seemed to fit. Sea Hawk was slightly less stupid than ‘Inspector Pirate’, but only slightly.

“And why are you here?” Was the obvious follow-up question.

“I’m just her ride.” Announced Sea Hawk. Then, without prompting, followed it up with, “I’m always just the ride. That’s all anyone ever wants from me. Nobody’ll ever love me and I’m gonna die alone.”

That was a lot to unpack right there, and Micah did not have the time for it. He turned his attention to Scorpia.

“I-“ She hesitated. Was she trying to fight the truth spell? Or was the hesitation for other reasons? “I need to rescue a friend. She- we were both betrayed by someone- by someone we both thought was our friend. I- I should have realized it sooner, but I was so smitten. You know when you look at someone through rose-colored glasses all the red flags just look like flags. I was naïve and Entrapta paid the price for it. I need to fix it.”

“Entrapta?” Echoed Micah. “You’re here to rescue Entrapta?”

“Yes.” Scorpia answered truthfully –not just because she was under a truth spell.

Micah’s expression softened. Who would have thought that Queen Ensnarea’s daughter would formed friendships that motivated them to storm Beast Island to rescue her. It was endearing. But more importantly, it was reassuring of the next generation of Princesses. “I’ll take you to her.”

Sea Hawk and Scorpia exchanged a look.

“We don’t actually know he is who he says he is.” Sea Hawk reminded her.

“And we just confessed to a bunch of stuff any member of the Horde should totally execute us for.” Scorpia agreed. “But I think if he was gonna attack us he would have done it by now.”

“Worse comes to worse we can get Entrapta’s robot to rescue us.” Sea Hawk decided. He turned back to the boat and shouted. “Hey, Emily! You up to pointing your weapons at someone other than me?”

Turning his head unnecessarily slowly, Micah looked back at the ship to see what looked like a Horde bot try and climb over the railing. Only to teeter unsteadily on one stuck leg, then move back, trying to regain its balance on the deck.

“Hang on, I’ll help you.” Scorpia went back to the boat. Pulling on the line, she scraped the side of the boat right up against the dock, then put one foot up on the railing, pressing that side down into the water. “Try and roll out.”

Tucking its legs under it, the Horde bot did as it was told. Rolling on the deck, bouncing a little bit as it passed over the boat’s railing and onto the dock. Regaining its footing, the bot gave a pleased little trill of appreciation.

Micah just blinked. “Sorry, did you say that’s Entrapta’s robot?”

“Yeah.” Scorpia smiled, as if there wasn’t anything wrong with a Princess having her own personal Horde robot as a pet. “She found her in the Fright Zone and reprogrammed her.”

Oh. Well, that was alright then. Micah relaxed. “I’ll take you to Entrapta.”

He led them inside. Sea Hawk and Scorpia falling into step behind him, still looking suspicious and unsure. The reprogrammed Horde bot, Emily, hobbling along behind them with one leg that seemed stuck and immobile. It made a loud THUNK, THUNK, THUNK sound with every step. But it seemed to reassure the other two.

Leading the pair through the uneven and twisting corridors of the compound, Micah did have to admit that Entrapta did have a point. The construction of this place really was counter intuitive and nothing at all like normal Horde construction.

There was a tense pause when they got to the lift and all of them looked at each other suspicious that the others would try and attack them in the enclosed space of the elevator cabin. But then the lift opened up again and they all stepped out onto the Command floor and both Scorpia and Sea Hawk paused for an entirely different reason.

Both of them froze, staring at the artistic depicting of the two planets flanking the door, with an infinity wrapped around them.

“That looks like-“ Gasped Sea Hawk.

“-First Ones writing.” Scorpia finished for him.

“Like from the Northern Reach.” The sea captain looked suddenly concerned. “You don’t think there are bug-like First Ones tech monsters here too, do you?”

Scorpia bit her bottom lip. “I mean… even if there are, we should be alright so long as Entrapta didn’t fix that First Ones virus disk. Right?”

“You two can read that?” Micah asked, impressed.

“No.” Both of them informed him in perfect unison.

“The only people on Etheria who can read First Ones writing are scholars who’ve spent their whole lives studying it –and they’re not even very good.” Sea Hawk explained. “And She-Ra.”

“She-Ra!” Micah almost tripped over his own feet.

He fell against the wall, landing on the door release for the Command room. The door slid open and a mass of lavender hair shifted at the sound. Twin-tails twisting, lifting out of the wait to reveal a familiar welding mask. There was the heartbeat of a pause, then one thin tendril of hair moved to lift the mask, revealing the familiar but confused face of Princess Entrapta.

“Scorpia?” She asked. “What are you doing here?”

Before she knew what she was doing, the other woman rushed into the room. Scooping Entrapta up into her arms, she wrapped Entrapta up in a crushing hug.

“I’m so glad you’re okay!” Scorpia sobbed into that mass of thick lavender locks. “I’m so sorry I just stood there and did nothing when you needed me. But I’m here now. I came to rescue you!”

Pulling away, as much as she could still held by the larger woman’s iron grip, Entrapta blinked at her. “You came to rescue me?”

No one had ever come to rescue her before. Not even the Princess Alliance, the self-proclaimed champions of ‘Good’. Not Glimmer and Bow who claimed to be her friends. Not Adora who lead the charge into the Fright Zone to rescue Glimmer. But Scorpia came to rescue her from Beast Island. Tears welled up in her eyes and for once, Entrpata did not lower her welding mask down to cover them.

“You’re my best friend!” And she hugged back. With her arms. Not her hair.

[guardmesherlock-rowan]

Model Conversation 17

There are certain times when you’re creeped out and you refuse to turn around, but there is a slight hurriedness of your step as if you’re just inches away from being grabbed.  As I went around and double checked that everything was in place I could not deny that this was how I felt in the abandoned house.  The sun had set and I had set up a few battery operated lanterns to give me more light, however that may have been a mistake as it just cast more shadows on the walls that made me almost jump out of the giraffe onesie pajamas.  “This wasn’t a bad idea, not at all…”  A little stack of horror movies sat next to my laptop so George and I could pick together, now to wait for the man of the hour. Just a little ways off was a plastic tote that I had brought junk food in.  I didn’t entertain the notion that this place was clear of any mice, so it seemed like a better bet to keep our food safe.

 With the silence only being interrupted by the creaking and groaning of the old house it was hard not to start talking to myself, something to break the silence and shatter the growing tension around me.  Eventually there was the sound of hurried footsteps just as there was a sudden rushing noise of rain starting to fall.  “Oh no…”

 Careful of all the plans and items in place I went to the door to help George get in, hoping to avoid him getting soaked all the way through.  The poor guy had come in his pajamas as well, throwing his coat over it all with a duffle bag tucked under his arm.  His hair was already starting to frizz with the humidity though he had managed to get in before it all came pouring down.  

 “You were cutting it close with the storm, Inspector.”

 “There hadn’t been any rain in the forecast for tonight.”

 “Still, you were lucky.” He mumbled something as he searched for a spot to set his coat down.  The floor had been coated in dust and other things which I would prefer not to think about when I first showed up, and spent a good deal of time sweeping. “Just through your stuff anywhere, but I got us set up right over here.”

 “Alright…”  He looked between the lamps and the small pile of movies. “So I guess… happy belated birthday?” He gave me a slight smile.  

 “Happy belated birthday.” I ushered him over to the two rolled out sleeping bags.  “So when I was younger I always had sleepovers for my birthday, horror movies, junk food, and when my parents finally went to sleep-”  I pulled out the box that I had so many nightmares of. Hiding it under my bed had only been met with my blankets being pulled off of me in the dead of the light, pulled towards the box.  Or the time my friends convinced me to bring it to the park and while in the midst of a session we noticed a man standing out in the playing field, staring at us. Which only encouraged us to close it and hurry back to my place.  I showed him the ouija board I bought at a garage sale.  “Except when I was younger-younger, we always made the boards ourselves, but this makes it feel more official, don’t you think?”

 “I… aren’t we a little old to be playing games like that?” He chuckled, though his eyes never left the box.

 “Nah- besides sometimes you have to indulge a little.  Besides Halloween, summer is the best time to get a little spooked don’t you think? All those ghost stories around campfires, everything is awake, you don’t know if the creaks you hear in the house is it settling, a mouse, or… something more.”  I wiggled my fingers in a menacing manor which only got an eye roll.

 “Maybe, but I’m not really interested in playing with that.  So should we start with a movie?  Or do we want to be responsible and go to bed.  It is already pretty late.”

 “Oh?  Are you chicken?”  

 “W-what?  Excuse me?”  He puffed out his chest.

 “I mean, I know you can’t really arrest ghosts so they might be a little too scary for you, but I did bring some salt in the tote so we can put some down if you feel unsafe?”  I offered, unable to wipe the grin off my face. He was glaring, or pouting, his feeling were conflicting across his expression between his nostrils flaring, his chest puffing out, and the jutting out of his bottom lip.

 “I’m not afraid. Okay, fine.  Let’s just get this over with so we can move on.”

 “Alright.”  I suppressed the urge to happy dance lest it gave everything away.  “Let me just turn out some of the lights, create more of an atmosphere.”  I went around and turned off some of the lamps, pausing only a moment to make sure everything was ready, and carefully made my way back to him.  “Do you want to be the one to ask questions?  Or shall I?”

 “Your board, you get to ask the question.”  He was sitting stiffly on his sleeping bag facing the box that we left on mine.  

 Grinning I nodded at him, “sounds good.”  It was simple to place it between our knees and instruct him to place his fingers on the guide.  Thunder boomed overhead, causing us both to jump a bit.  Both of us were laughing awkwardly, and I momentarily wondered if I could play music while the board was out.  “Alright, so firstly, is there anyone here with us?”

 Slowly the guide was pushed to ‘Yes’.

 “Were you someone who lived in this house?”

 ‘No’.

 “Did you live in this area?”

 It circled back around, ‘No’.

 “Who are you?”

 Slowly it spelled out ‘M-O-N-S-T-E-R’.

 George shook his head, “I mean really?  ‘Monster’? That is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.  Rowan, are you messing with me?”

 “I would never!”  

 “Yeah sure.”

 ‘N-E-V-E-R’.

 “Okay this was funny but I think it’s time to move onto other stuff.”

 ‘L-E-A-V-E’.

 “Um?”  The guide continued moving.

 ‘N-E-V-E-R-L-E-A-V-E’.

 Scoffing George started to push the guide to ‘Goodbye.’  “Yeah I think I’m done with this.”

 “George wait!”  I urged him as something banged upstairs.

 “What was that?”

 “Probably a window or a shutter banging open due to the storm.”  It probably wasn’t.  “Let’s just keep playing for a bit okay?”

 “I’m fairly certain this breaks a lot of horror movie rules to continue.  I think we could pick out one movie from that pile that explains why this is a bad idea.”

 “What do you want?”  I continued to ask the board.

 ‘F-R-I-E-N-D-S’.

 “See George?  It’s just friendly.”

 ‘F-O-R-E-V-E-R’.

 “Oh yeah cause that’s not ominous.  I’m ending the game, and we’re gonna watch something.”  He started pushed the guide again towards the ‘Goodbye’.

 “Wait-”  I held a hand out to stop him when I felt the pull. Knocking the wind out of me the board went flying as I was dragged along the ground towards the wall and up it just enough that my feet were dangling.  I gasped for air as I was held tightly, begging my heart rate to slow down.

 “Rowan!”  George was standing grabbing the nearest lamp like a weapon and looking around, “what-what’s going on!?  Put her down!”  I kicked a little the few light bulbs in the room flickered with power that hadn’t been going to them before, momentarily blinding us as there came a series of footsteps running over head.  

 The weight of being held up was starting to really hurt, so I winced and cried out a little.  

 “Don’t worry, I got you!” He tossed the lamp rushing over to my side.

 “NO!”  A voice boomed, though it seemed to come from everywhere. I was hoisted a little higher up. A scratching sound drew our attention to the wall opposite to me when suddenly the words ‘FRIENDS FOREVER’ appeared on it as if painted onto the wall in some dark shiny liquid.  

 “We’re out of here.” George hurried over and started pulling on my feet.

 “Ow!  You’re hurting me.”  

 “Yeah yeah, complain later.”

 From where we were there was a doorframe that let into the hallways and the rest of the house, and from where we were there was a bit of darkness that the lamps didn’t light up. From there a growl seemed to freeze George’s blood.  His mouth shaped an O as he heard it.  

 “Help me.”  I pleaded with him, the hair on my arms rising, as the sound made my trapped predicament harder to handle.  

 “I’m not going anywhere.” George tugged and pulled, keeping his eyes on the door way.  His grip disappeared as he fell, taking in the sight of the creature that stepped into the light.   It seemed humanoid, though it was more a mixture of rotting flesh and hair that obscured the rest of its appearance and it scurried on all fours towards George, it’s growl becoming a full snarl.   “No!” He started kicking at it before darting over to the tote of food.  The creatures came up and made as if to claw at me when George reached in at threw the container of salt at it.  “Leave her alone.”  

 Of course he went for the salt.  I finally snapped and started laughing.

 “Don’t cry!  I-I’ll save you!”  George cried out, grabbing one of the bigger lamps and charged, now freshly armed.  

 “I-I’m not- HA!- crying!” I tried to explain, as the creature shook his head and backed away from George.  

 He made a few menacing gestures, then pulled his head off revealing a mess of brown hair twisted in various directions, “growl.” Edward actually said the word this time as he laughed.

 “What is… were you messing with me?!”  George complained looking between us as if his heart was breaking.  

 “We just… wanted a little scary fun, and since it was Edward’s birthday the other day too, thought it would be fun to have all of us together.”  I said sheepishly, still dangling, “but I really would like down now.”  

 “Oh right.  Edward stepped out and released the mechanism dropping me to the floor.  He came back a while later in his own pajamas, having shed the costume and helped me unclick the harness.  

 “Thank you.  And I do have one more surprised for you, be right back, I’m- uh- also gonna get out of the harness that’s under this onesie so I’m gonna go alone.”  

 In the other room, once out of the harness, I got their last surprises ready.   On a cart I pushed a big cake that hid my face a bit around the corner and towards the others.  “Happy birthday to us. . .”  I said slowly, smiling at them with my eyes blacked out, behind them the ouija board started to levitate.  “Happy birthday to us. . .”

 “Okay, this isn’t funny.”

 “Happy. . . Birthday-”

 A voice boomed again, ‘to Rowan, George, Edward, and-”  A figure stepped into the room, microphone in hand, “-Mycroft.  Happy birthday to us.”  He turned off the microphone, letting the speakers hidden in various places go silent. “You didn’t think I was going to be left out of this did you?”  

 “So all three of you were in on it?”

 “A little yeah.”  I came up to him, careful with each step as the contacts did obscure my vision a little.  “You were very brave.”

 “Will you tell that to Sherlock and the others?”

 “I will- I promise…  I’ll also tell them how you threw salt to defend me… I guess that means you ‘a-salt-ed’ him officer.”

 “Please don’t.” Mycroft sighed at my brilliant pun. “Now. Let’s pack all this up in the car I’ve brought around so we can go to the hotel to continue this there.”

 “Hotel?”  It was my turn to be confused.  

 “You don’t think we’re going to actually sleep in this health hazard do you?”  I shrugged and shared a smile with Edward who seemed excited.

 “First dibs on picking the movie!”  Edward called out.

 George sputtered, “hey now, I was the hero, I should get first pick.”

 “Game of rock, paper, scissors, come on.”  Ignoring them to their games I quickly packed up what I could, knowing that I would still be coming back in the next few days to help take down the wires, the speakers, the fake piece of wood with the painting on in, and the banner that we used to cover it.  

 I stepped over the ouija board, leaving it where it laid, it was still attached to some wires, it would make finding them easier later.  We piled into the cars, letting Mycroft lead the way.  Pretty good night all in all, I was also looking forward to taking the contacts out in a clean bathroom, trying not to think about the what ifs should we return and the ouija board isn’t there.

[quentinsquill]

“Eliot Waugh and the Case of the Cocooned Conjurers” Chapter 4

Yay, I’m updating on the reg! Enjoy! 

Or read it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17218352/chapters/41229167

CHAPTER 4: Dr. Quentin Coldwater

 After taking tea with Margo, (she insisted I call her by that name only, even though it seemed overly-familiar considering how briefly I’d known her,) Waugh and I bid her goodbye and took a carriage to Central Park. The many wooded areas gave magicians and other magical beings the means to travel via portals and other spells without being spotted by everyday individuals. It was nearly dusk when we arrived, and the driver gave us a curious glance.

 “You gents certain this is where you want to be left off?”

 “Yes.” Waugh handed the man a silver dollar and walked away, leaving the man to stare, goggle-eyed, at his good fortune. I hurried to catch up with my companion.

 “Do you think Inspector Fogg and his assistant might meet us at Brakebills?” I asked, and Waugh scoffed as he adjusted one end of the dark wool scarf he wore.

 “I doubt it, my dear fellow. I have worked with the inspector before, and he’s like a stray dog that comes to lick up the leavings of a meal other, cleverer beasts have taken down.”

 “That seems a bit uncharitable.”

 “Perhaps. But you might understand after working with him. He’s an adequate magician but his station is seated far above his abilities.” Waugh walked into a copse of trees and lifted both hands, his fingers moving precisely. A portal opened in response and I followed him through it, reflecting that I hadn’t seen Brakebills since the war. The trees seemed to crowd in behind us as the portal widened on the opposite end, the exit whirling with pollen and dust motes. Warm air beckoned and I moved toward it, wanting to escape the perpetual dampness of New York City in October. Eliot reached the exit first but paused to wait for me, an action that both surprised and pleased me.

 It was still several hours until sunset there and about mid-August, if I had to guess, as time tended to slip off its axis because of the age of the wards that kept the campus hidden from prying, non-magical eyes. We crossed a lush, wide lawn that I remembered from my days as a student—a time, it seemed, which had been decades ago instead of less than four years. I glanced up at Waugh, who was heading toward the medical building as if he’d walked this way many times before. It was hard to guess the man’s age, as his handsome features distracted the eye from any details that might reveal it. I estimated that he was at least three years my senior.

 “Did you study here?” I found myself asking, and a brief smile touched his lips.

 “Very briefly—enough to teach me what magic is and what it is not.”

 “I’m not sure I understand. Can you elaborate?”

 My companion halted and faced me.

 “You say you were recruited into the war from Brakebills?”

 “Yes. I hadn’t completed my studies but they said I—I was unusually talented and they needed magicians to support their cause.”

 “Their cause. And they explained it to you as a battle of good vs. evil?”

 “It was a fight to keep magic from falling into the wrong hands. You were a spy—isn’t that what you fought for?”

 “I didn’t fight. And I spied for my own reasons, not for any notion of good vs. evil.” The amber eyes gazed into mine. “Because magic is neither.”

 Indignance warred with sudden shame and I scowled. Waugh turned away, the hem of his wool coat flaring.

 “Come along, let’s not keep our corpse waiting!”

 The medical building was smaller than most of the others on campus, with one main section that branched out into a T at its end. The left branched housed learning and research, while the right featured a variety of labs, including a morgue. I followed Waugh, my frustration over his comments darkening my mood. The building was mostly deserted this time of day, and we gave nods to the few healing students we passed. Waugh took a right and headed for a door with a small frosted glass window and no label, breaking the ward before he walked inside. The air was sharp with antiseptic, a whiff of dry ice, and the bitter attar of failed healing spells. Under all that, I caught the barest scent of decay, something not even magic could prevent once one died. My companion opened a corpse drawer.

 “Here we are.” He uncovered the pale, naked man and took a slim leather valise from the inner pocket of his coat.

 “What do you make of the missing hands?” He asked, pulling me from my brooding thoughts as he took a folding magnifier from the case; I recognized it a moment later as a tool for reading chi and chakras. It held three round, colored magnifiers and Waugh slid them apart at the opposite end. They fanned out like peacock feathers and my irritation bled away as I watched his slim fingers work the device.

 “Dr. Coldwater?” He prompted, and I came back to myself to lift my own hands ands sense what I could from the stumps of the dead man’s wrists.

 “I don’t believe the killer did this to disguise the man’s identity. It’s true we can’t read anything off his hands, but his face would have been disfigured as well.” I paused, feeling more confident in my findings. “It’s as if they were removed with purpose, and done so while the poor chap was still alive.”

 Waugh’s eyes lit up and I felt something warm in my chest like I used to when I’d pleased a much-admired professor with one of my answers during a lecture.

 “An excellent conclusion, doctor! And what led you to it?”

 I bent closer to one of the stumps. Fogg had left the body as they’d found it in the alley, the trunk and limbs still smeared with blood.

 “The blood trails,” I said at last. “See here, the spatter on the shoulders? I wager if we turned him, we’d find more on his back. He fought his assailant as his hands were removed.”

 “Agreed!” Waugh read the echo of the man’s chakras. “He died a painful death, the poor bugger.”

 I stepped back and stared at the corpse’s face.

 “Mr. Waugh—”

 “Eliot.”

 “Pardon?”

 “We’re in morgue after sunset, examining a dead body together. Surely that warrants a bit of familiarity.”

 “Oh. Uhm—” I felt my cheeks warm. “Yes! Yes, of course, then—Eliot. You can call me Quentin, if you like.”

 “Very good.” He pushed a big hand through his brunette curls. “You had a question?”

 “Oh!” I refocused my attention on the dead man. “It had occurred to me that a great deal of a magician’s strength lies in his hands and fingers. Casting takes precision; could it be the hands were removed to incapacitate this man’s casting?”

 “If we had the missing hands, my dear doctor, I would feel more confident answering that question.” Eliot lifted one of the man’s pliant eyelids. “But look here . . . the corneas of the eyes show broken blood vessels. The webbing must have strangled the life out of him.” He moved to the end of the body tray to poke at the stiff material Fogg had left with the corpse. “A spider and a fly,” he mused, “yet most of the body is left intact.” His eyes flicked over the dead man. “I wondered, at first, if some kind of beast had entered our dimension and was responsible for this. An interdimensional lamprey, perhaps.”

 I shuddered—lampreys like that were the length of a grown man’s arm and invaded their prey through any orifice it could find to eat it from the inside out.

 “But now?” I asked, and Eliot shook his head.

“No beast like that would be this wasteful, to take only the hands and leave the rest to rot.”

 “I saw lampreys during the war,” I replied, my stomach flipping with the memory. “And I agree.” I stepped closer to examine the webbing with him. “Which means this material isn’t natural—it’s casted. Granted, I’ve never seen it before, but a talented magician could devise a spell to make this.”

 “Mmm.” Eliot used one of his spectrums to open the corpse’s mouth. He moved the greying tongue aside and frowned. “Doctor, pass me those tweezers there.” He nodded at his kit and I slid them out to hand them over. Eliot dipped them under the dead man’s tongue, moving the tips around until he withdrew a chunk of material half the size of a pinky nail. It was roughly circular and shiny with saliva.

 “What the deuce is that?” I asked, and Eliot held it up to the light from the mini sun that illuminated the room—healing students usually found artificial light easier to see by.

 “Permian sandstone.” Eliot held it out for me to inspect. The red cast of the stone left no doubt as to its nature, and drying blood flecked the honeycombed surface.

 “A seacoast rock . . . but it’s used for building material as well.”

 “Except that this piece hasn’t been treated for building. The honeycomb is still very much intact.” Eliot turned it before producing a small velvet bag and dropping it inside.

 “But what does it tell you?” I asked. A light grew in my new friend’s eyes.

 “It means, my dear fellow, that a visit to the seaside is in order!”

[carinaconstellation]

Tag Game

@storytimetraveler I’m just getting this behind me ;)

1. Nickname: Löle, Lulu, Carlu

2. Zodiac: Cancer

3. Height: 170cm 

4. Last movie I saw: The mummy

5. Last thing I googled: Singaporean traditional food

6. Favorite musician: I don’t really have one but I’ll say Tuomas Holopainen, the keyboardist and lead songwriter of Nightwish, for now

7. Song stuck in my head: 1000 Doors (Spooky’s Jumpscare Mansion Song) [feat. Bobby Yarsulik and Crusher-P] - The Living Tombstone

8. Blogs: carinaconstellation and carina-illustrations

9. Do I get asks: No, ‘cause I’m not active on Tumblr enough

10. Following: Like, how many people I’m following or people who are following me? 

11. Amount of sleep: Between 7 and 9 hours during the week and about 10 -12 hours during weekends. I call weekends hibernation period.

12. Lucky number: 3, ‘cause 3 time’s the charm ;D

13. What I’m wearing: Black earrings, LoZ Cardigan, black t-shirt with Deadpool wearing a Groot onesie and Groot wearing a Deadpool onesie, dark blue jeans

14. Dream job: Pharmaceutical Engineer in process development or working for Swissmedic as a medical drug inspector.

15. Dream trip: China, Island in Winter (been there in Summer, Island’s a really cool area to hike), Canada, Japan, New Zealand, Australia, Norway, Sweden, Finland... the list continues

16. Favourite food: Won Ton soup

17. Play any instrument?: I used to play piano, I learnt to play the recorder and the ocarina, now I play guitar but am now learning to play the ukulele... I still play guitar though ‘cause I enjoy playing it. 

18. Languages: English, (Swiss) German, write and read French but not speak

19. Favourite song: I don’t really have one. But I guess The Last Goodbye - Billy Boyd

20. Random fact: When I was about eight years old I swallowed a cherry seed by accident and my brother (he’s older than me) told me that I’m going to grow a cherry tree on my head and I believed him for about 2 years. 

21. Describe yourself as aesthetic things: sipping on a cup of tea while things go wrong, head bangs on metal and none metal songs, adventure in the fresh mountain air, reading on grey days, struggling for words at inopportune times, cuddled warm in bed at night, hopeless at what aesthetic things are

[sebfreak]

I´m gonna miss inspector seb when he can´t touch the cars anymore... :( but i guess after this rear wing gate he has to retire. 

So we have to say goodbye to inspector seb. 

[comeofage1]

A to Z Book Rec Tag

Thank you to the lovely @that-quirky-girl for tagging me, she recognises the book weakness in me. These books are all linked on goodreads, where I have an account, linked HERE.

# - #Junkie and #Rev by Cambria Hebert 

A - Adorkable by Sarra Manning

Adulthood is a Myth by Sarah Andersen 

Adulting 101 by Lisa Henry 

Alan Partridge: Nomad by Alan Partridge (Steve Coogan) 

The Alex Crow by Andrew Smith 

All the Single Ladies by Jane Costello 

And Call me in the Morning by Willa Okati 

Anna and the French Kiss by Stephanie Perkins 

Anna Dressed in Blood by Kendare Blake 

Austenland by Shannon Hale 

B - The Backup Boyfriend by River Jaymes

Beauty by Robin McKinley 

The Best Corpse for the Job by Charlie Cochrane

Between Ghosts by Garrett Leigh 

Big Mouth, Ugly Girl by Joyce Carol Oates

Blame it on the Mistletoe by Eli Easton 

Blood Magic by Tessa Gratton 

Bone Gap by Laura Ruby 

The Book Thief by Markus Zusak 

The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas by John Boyne 

Breakfast at Tiffanys by Truman Capote 

Breathe by Sloane Parker 

Brideshead Revisited by Evelyn Waugh 

Bridesmaids by Jane Costello 

Brighton Rock by Graham Green 

C - Carry On by Rainbow Rowell 

Carry the Ocean by Heidi Cullinan 

The Catastrophic History of You and Me by Jessica Rothenburg 

Caught! by JL Merrow 

Chain Reaction by Simone Elkeles 

Chance to be King by Sue Brown 

A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens 

The Christmasaurus by Tom Fletcher 

The Chronicles of Narnia by CS Lewis

Cinder by Marissa Meyer 

Clear Water by Amy Lane  

Code Name Verity by Elizabeth Wein 

Cold War by Keira Andrews 

The Coldest Girl in Coldtown by Holly Black 

Collide by Riley Hart 

The Color Purple by Alice Walker 

Corkscrewed by MJ O’Shea 

Crooked Kingdom by Leigh Bardugo 

Crossroads by Riley Hart 

The Crucible by Arthur Miller 

Crush by Richard Siken 

D - The Darkest Part of the Forest by Holly Black 

Dash & Lily’s book of Dares by Rachel Cohn 

Death of a Naturalist by Seamus Heaney 

Devoted by Sierra Riley 

A Discovery of Witches by Deborah Harkness 

Dumplin’ by Julie Murphy 

E - Eclipsed by Dominic Holland 

Ella Enchanted by Gail Carson Levine 

Emma - Jane Austen 

Epic Fail - Claire LaZebnik 

The Epic Love Story of Doug and Stephen by Valerie Z Lewis 

Every Move he Makes by Barbara Elsborg 

Evolution, Me & Other Freaks of Nature by Robin Brande 

F - Fairest by Gail Carson Levine 

Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell 

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by JK Rowling 

Far from the Madding Crowd by Thomas Hardy 

The Fellowship of the Ring by JRR Tolkien 

Fight Club by Chuck Palahniuk 

Filthy Little Secret by Devon McCormack 

Fish Out Of Water by Amy Lane

Fish Stick Fridays by Rhys Ford 

Flash Burnout by LK Madigan

Flawless by Lara Chapman 

Fragile Things by Neil Gaiman 

From What I Remember by Stacy Kramer 

The Future of Us by Jay Asher 

G - Gangsta Rap by Benjamin Zephaniah : 

Girl on the Run by Jane Costello

Glass Tidings by Amy Jo Cousins

Goodbye Days by Jeff Zentner

Goodnight Mister Tom by Michelle Magorian

Grasshopper Jungle by Andrew Smith

The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman

H - Harry Potter by JK Rowling

The Hate U Give by Angie Thomas

Haunting Violet by Alyxandra Harvey

The Heart of Texas by RJ Scott

Heidi by Johanna Spyri

The Help by Kathryn Stockett

Helping Hand by Jay Northcote

A Hero at the End of the World by Erin Claiborne

Him by Sarina Bowen

The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams

The Hobbit by JRR Tolkien 

Holly Lane by Toni Blake

Hostile Ground by LA Witt

Hot Head by Damon Suede 

Hottie Scotty and Mr Porter by R Cooper

How to Repair a Mechanical Heart by JC Lillis

Howl’s Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones

A Hunted Man by Jaime Reese

Hunting Lila by Sarah Alderson

Hush Hush by Becca Fitzpatrick

I - I Love the 80s by Megan Crane

If Only in My Dreams by Keira Andrews

Illegal Contact by Santino Hassell

The Importance of Being Earnest by Oscar Wilde 

Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace

Inseparable by Chris Scully

An Inspector Calls by JB Priestley

J - Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte

Jellicoe Road by Melina Marchetta

Jurassic Park by Michael Crichton

 Just Listen by Sarah Dessen

K - A Kiss in Time by Alex Flinn

Know Not Why by Hannah Johnson

L - Law of Attraction by Jay Northcote

Leaving Paradise by Simone Elkeles

Liam Davis & The Raven by Anyta Sunday

Light from the Dark by Mercy Celeste

Lima Oscar Victor Echo and the Truth about Everything by Suki Fleet

The Little Book of Vegan Poems by Benjamin Zephaniah 

Little Women by Louisa May Alcott

M - Mark Cooper versus America by Lisa Henry

Mark of Cain by Kate Sherwood

Me and Mr Darcy by Alexandra Potter

Merry Christmas Mr Miggles by Eli Easton

Midwinter Night’s Dream by Eli Easton

More than This by Patrick Ness

Motel. Pool. by Kim Fielding 

Mrs Warren’s Profession by Bernard George Shaw

My Love Lies Bleeding by Alyxandra Harvey 

My Single Friend by Jane Costello

N - The Nearly-weds by Jane Costello 

Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman 

Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist by Rachel Cohn 

North and South by Elizabeth Gaskell

North of Beautiful by Justina Chen

Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen

The Nothingness of Ben by Brad Boney

Noticed Me Yet? by Anyta Sunday

Noughts and Crosses by Malorie Blackman

Off Base by Annabeth Albert

Open Tackle by LC Chase

Out of the Blue by Sophie Cameron

P - Passing Through by Jay Northcote

Perfect Chemistry by Simone Elkeles

Persuasion by Jane Austen

Peter Pan by JM Barrie

The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde

A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce

Pressure Head by JL Merrow

Pride and Modern Prejudice by AJ Michaels 

Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen

The Princess Bride by William Goldman

Private Eye by SE Culpepper

Promised Land by Adam Reynolds

Promises by Marie Sexton

Pushing the Limits by Katie McGarry

Q - The Queen of the Tearling by Erika Johansen

R - Rattlesnake by Kim Fielding

Remember Me? by Sophie Kinsella

The Rest of Us Just Live Here by Patrick Ness

Rock Solid by Riley Hart

Roughing the Passer by Alison Hendricks

S - The Secret History by Donna Tartt

Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen

Shiny by Amy Lane

Shrinking Violet by Danielle Joseph

Shut your Face, Anthony Pace by Claire Davis

Silent by Sara Alva

Simon vs the Homo Sapiens Agenda by Becky Albertalli

Skellig by David Almond

Skin Deep by Laura Jarratt

Slam! by JL Merrow

The Sleeper and the Spindle by Neil Gaiman

Sock it to me, Santa! by Madison Parker

Someday by Sierra Riley

Songs of Innocence and of Experience by William Blake

Spencer Cohen by NR Walker

Splintered by SJD Peterson

Stardust by Neil Gaiman

Starter for Ten by David Nicholls

Station Eleven by Emily St John Mandel

Stay With Me by SE Harmon

Strong Side by Alison Hendricks

Sugar Creek by Toni Blake

Superhero by Eli Easton

T - The Tales of Beedle the Bard by JK Rowling

The Tenant of Wildfell Hall by Anne Bronte

This Savage Song by Victoria Schwab

The Time of Our Lives by Jane Costello

To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee

Tonight by Karen Stivali

Turkey in the Snow by Amy Lane

The Two Gentlemen of Altona by Lisa Henry

U - Unwrapping Hank by Eli Easton

Uprooted by Naomi Novik

V - The Vintners Luck by Elizabeth Knox

W - Waiting for Godot by Samuel Beckett

A Walk to Remember by Nicholas Sparks

The Walls of Troy by LA Witt

The Waste Land and Other Poems by TS Eliot

Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen

We were Feminists Once by Andi Zeisler

A Weekend With Mr Darcy by Victoria Connelly

Where he ends and I Begin by C Cardeno

Where the Lovelight Gleams by Kiera Andrews

Whiskey Business by Avon Gale

The Wish List by Jane Costello

Wonder by RJ Palacio

X - X-It by Jane George

Y - Y: The Last Man by Brian K Vaughan

You Against Me by Jenny Downham

Z - Zero at the Bone by Jane Seville

[juniper-and-lamplight]

Recent Reads: March 3, 2018

"Recent" being a relative term: this list covers fics I read between May 2017 and February 2018. A lot of my reading from this period has already been recced via my 2017 Holiday Fic Countdown and DGHDA Fic Favorites list; but you'll still find a few Dirk/Todd fics here, alongside Johnlock, Drarry, Destiel, Finnpoe, Wolfstar, some nostalgic Sam/Frodo, and femslash from Ghostbusters, Miss Fisher, and Wonder Woman. Yes, this list is a multifandom disaster, just like me.

Silvermoon's Sparkling - askboo - 1k, T, Dirk/Todd "5 times Todd smooches Dirk on his face (+ 1 time he smooches him on his mouth)." A little fluff, a little hurt/comfort, and a little humor, all in one tidy 5+1 package. "Nothing we do is legal" makes me giggle every time.

The Stars Move Still - BeautifulFiction, read by aranel_parmadil and @consultingsmartarse​ - 96k, 9hrs 48min, E, John/Sherlock, AU "What could I want so desperately that would make me sell my soul? What could possibly compel me to surrender the part of myself that makes me who I am: the source of my magic, my self-control, everything?" I avoided this fic for YEARS because I hate most iterations of Faust, so I was extremely pleased to discover that the inspiration is very loose and thus, the fic is lovely.

O Sinners, Let's Go Down - birdsofshore - 33k, E, Harry/Draco "It seemed like such a straightforward plan ‒ a trip to Suffolk to research his mother's family tree and spend a few days relaxing by the seaside. Harry wasn't looking for anything more than that. He certainly wasn't looking for Draco Malfoy." I am already on record as being fascinated by the function of religion in the wizarding world, so OBVIOUSLY I am here for priest-in-training Draco.

If Equal Affection Cannot Be - @blueink3​ - 21k, E, John/Sherlock "Sherlock fled London a couple of years after John left him in hospital with nothing but an old walking stick and a half-hearted goodbye. Rosie grew up thinking that Sherlock died when he committed suicide in front of her father by jumping from Barts' roof. So it's somewhat awkward when they run into each other in a Sussex general store between the loaves of bread and the Mars bars..." In which it takes John and Sherlock decades to come to terms with the events of season 4. Honestly, it might take decades for me as well, but fics like this one help.

Half a Dozen Dances - CeruleanDarkangelis, read by @lockedinjohnlock-podfics​ - 19k, 2.4 hrs, E, John/Sherlock "'Seriously? You? You're going to be a stripper?' John tried to keep the amused incredulity off his face. Judging by the disgruntled look Sherlock gave him, he was not entirely successful in this endeavor.'" Normally I am not into stripper fics (for Lots Of Reasons), but the slow smolder of this fic and the music in the podfic make won me over.  

Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered - @coloursflyaway - 2k, T, Dirk/Todd "It's late and Todd finds Dirk sitting on the stairs in front of the Ridgely; there's music and confessions, and maybe, a kiss." Sweet, romantic, and reassuring for those of us who've listened to a certain YouTube video a million times.

you take me the way i am - @cosmicoceanfic - 13k, T, Dirk/Todd "'This is how Todd tries to take care of people. Through protecting them. It’s his way of trying to help, and he is constantly trying to come through every time the opportunity presents itself. So who’s taking care of Todd?' Where Dirk tries his hand at romantic gestures, and has some trouble with it." Charming and goofy, but ultimately about how wooing is not the same as partnership. Dirk's “Did I just tell you that I loved you in the middle of a rant?” is 5000% believable.

Morning Glory - @edgarallanrose - 26k, E, Dean/Castiel "Dean can no longer hunt, Cas has gone from Warrior of God to beekeeper, and Sam has left home. Taking place two years after the Season 12 finale, Dean and Cas have to learn what it means to be themselves, and who they are meant to be to each other, without the threat of an impending apocalypse hanging over their heads." It's tough being a Destiel shipper who doesn't care for AUs, which is why fics like this make me happy--it's canon-based AND filled with delicious fluffy stuff like Dean baking and Cas keeping bees.

Stronger Together - elfin - 4k, G, Dirk/Todd "Todd's been wondering - what is Dirk's type of thing?" A lovely (and funny!) look at how these characters complement and balance each other. I especially enjoy Dirk’s total matter-of-factness about his feelings for Todd.

Endurance Beyond Hope - Frayach - 19k, M, Frodo/Sam "Fourteen years after Frodo's departure from the Havens, Merry is visited at Brandy Hall by Sam and his family and discovers a well-spring of both grief and hope that he and Frodo will be reuniting beyond the grey curtain of this world."  In the words of one Ronald Weasley: "You're gonna suffer, but you're gonna be happy about it." This fic will break your heart in the best way.

And On To Something New - geordielover, read by consulting_smartass - 2k, 16min, T, John/Sherlock "John is not an idiot, despite what Sherlock seems to believe about him...he knows that everyone at the NSY is under the impression that he and Sherlock have been shagging for years." A just-right take on a familiar, beloved trope.

Are You Mine? - @gracerene09 - 91k, E, Harry/Draco, James/Teddy, series "A series of fics set in an "Epilogue-Compliant Harry Potter 'Verse," beginning with Not Just When You Want to Be: 'A little over a year after the end of the war, fate seems intent on pushing Harry and Draco together. Staying together is a different matter entirely.'" There are lot of things that I like about this series; one of them is that it deals explicitly with queerness in context, i.e. what it means to be out in the wizarding world.

be yourself my ally - imperfectcircle - 15k, G, Etta/Diana "'That’s all very flattering,' Etta says when Diana has finally run out of steam, 'but surely you have more qualified candidates than me?' 'You are of the world of men.' Diana looks a little embarrassed. 'But not a man.'" Diana and Etta go back to Themyscira." I would never have guessed that I'd like this pairing, because we saw so little of Etta in the Wonder Woman movie, but this fic makes me feel like I know here, and I LOVE IT SO HARD. Any Other Day - @irisbleufic - 3k, M, Frodo/Sam "A day just like any other, full of its own particular wonders." You need to read all the way to the end of this fic to get the full effect. And by "get the full effect" I mean "be overwhelmed by emotions."

Waking - kirargent - 3k, T, Finn/Poe "When she speaks, Poe's heart sputters like a bot without quite enough power to fully function. 'Finn is awake.' It is worse when Finn is awake." A nonlinear glimpse into the psyche of Commander Poe Dameron, dedicated Resistance fighter and lovesick idiot.

Things We're All Too Young To Know - @lavellington - 4k, T, Dirk/Todd "Todd is not the marrying kind. Or at least that's what he's been telling himself." Confession: I'm generally wary of proposal fic due to the high incidence of schmoop...which is why I adore the way THIS fic deals with Todd's very realistic and in-character reluctance about marriage.

The Last Shreds of Autumn - @merripestin - 16k, E, Frodo/Sam "Frodo recovers in Rivendell, and Sam looks after him." Good old-fashioned hobbit hurt/comfort. Revisiting this ship is like slipping into a warm bath.

i don't wanna give you up (i don't wanna let you love somebody else but me) - @notcaycepollard, read by @revolutionaryjo - 3k, 20min, E, Jillian/Erin "Erin Gilbert is not the second or even the fifth straight girl Jillian’s ever fallen for, and it’s kind of getting to be a problem, except when she sees Dr Erin Gilbert, she thinks, maybe, this woman might be a statistical outlier." Strong characterization, funny, hot, and the VOICE! Flawless.

The Moon Looks Lovely Tonight - Omi_Ohmy - 36k, M, Harry/Draco "When Harry moves into the damp and empty Black house, it doesn’t quite feel like home. And then the first owl moves in. After that, it’s a steep slope leading to bed-sharing, more owls, assorted housemates, strange potions experiments, and terrible cooking. And a bit of waltzing, too." Humor and romance and bed-sharing and found family! What more could you want?

Light in August - orestesfasting - 21k, E, Remus/Sirius "Summer, 1977. With the full moon approaching, Sirius heads up to the Lupins' countryside cottage to make himself useful. Or to make a complete and utter arse out of himself, because really, that’s all he can seem to do around Remus these days." Excellent dialogue, and wonderfully atmospheric--a very immersive reading experience.

A Room with a View - pyes - 13k, E, Finn/Poe "Poe awaits Finn's arrival at a busy spaceport after a long, lonely year spent on opposite ends of the galaxy." Poe's narrative voice in this fic is so distinctive and perfect.

Since First I Saw Your Face - Stavia_Scott_Grayson (@artemisastarte)  - WIP, M, Holmes/Watson "During the Great Hiatus, Holmes, studying in Tibet, reflects on his first meeting with Dr John Watson." A meticulously researched, gorgeously slow-burning WIP in which Holmes, desperately trying to return to Watson post-Reichenbach, reminisces about the trajectory of their relationship. If you love historical detail and EPIC amounts of pining, you need to be reading this fic.

Every Day's Most Quiet Need - @tiltedsyllogism​ - 22k, unrated, Phryne/Mac, Phryne/Jack "Doctor Elizabeth Macmillan does not traffick in regrets. Hers is an exceptionally pleasurable and useful life, made complete (if it wasn’t before) by her dear friend Phryne’s return to Melbourne. And if Mac occasionally longs for a time before her friend became somehow distracted by the stiff shoe that is Inspector Jack Robinson— well, one must always endure some bad with the good." I love everything about this fic, but especially the closely observed characterization, of both individuals and relationships. There's a moment where Mac recognizes that she and Jack share a certain kind of "well-tailored" intensity...I almost shouted "YES THIS" when I read it.

he is a feather in the wind - @xylodemon - 3k, T, Dean/Castiel "Darkness. Stillness. Castiel has been here before — briefly, but more than once. As Dean would say, this isn't his first rodeo." Once again xylodemon has written a Destiel fic that slots right into the canon plot, but is 50 times better than what the actual Supernatural writers did with that same plot.

Love: A Retrospective - xylodemon - 40k, E, Dean/Castiel "Pretending Cas is just his friend has been the only thing keeping Dean's head on straight for years. He never realized how much doing that depended on him making himself scarce in the morning -- not until Cas came back and moved into the bunker." A Destiel fic that incorporates ALL OF CANON is no small feat.

Further fic recs | Fic Bookmarks

[fictionfromafar]

Unmissable International Crime Fiction Novels from August 2021

3 August: The Night Singer by Johanna Mo, translated by Alice Menzies, Penguin Books

Police detective Hannah Duncker didn’t expect to return to her native Öland. She fled after her father’s murder conviction and returns to make peace with her shame. She has a new job with the local police and a nosy new partner. A fifteen-year-old’s death catapults her into a murder investigation that resurrects ghosts from her previous life. As she hunts for the truth, she must confront the people she abandoned. Not all are pleased to see her back home, and she soon learns that digging through the past comes with consequences.

5 August: The Soul Breaker by Sebastian Fitzek, translated by Jamie Bulloch, Head Of Zeus

He doesn’t kill them, or mutilate them. But he leaves them completely dead inside, paralysed and catatonic. His only trace is a note left in their hands. There are three known victims when suddenly the abductions stop. The Soul Breaker has tired of his game, it seems. Meanwhile, a man has been found in the snow outside an exclusive psychiatric clinic. He has no recollection of who he is, or why he is there. Unable to match him to any of the police’s missing people, the nurses call him Casper. My review of Passenger 23:

Fiction From Afar

Passenger 23 by Sebastian Fitzek Passenger 23 By Sebastian Fitzek Translated by Jamie Bulloch Head Of Zeus “Every year on average 23 people

The Woman in the Blue Cloak by Deon Meyer, Hodder

The brilliant two-time-frame novella The Woman in the Blue Cloak has not appeared before in mass-market paperback. It is joined here by several shorter stories, published for the first time in book form.

The title story features Meyer's much-loved detective Benny Griessel at a key moment in his relationship with his new love, Alexa.

The Bucket List: An Agent John Adderley Novel by Peter Mohlin & Peter Nystrom, The Overlook Press

The Bucket List starts when undercover FBI Agent John Adderley wakes up in a hospital bed in Baltimore with extensive gunshot wounds. He knows he’s lucky to be alive. And just a few beds away is the man who 24 hours ago pointed a gun to his head.

10 August: Cold Sun by Anita Sivakumaran Dialogue Books

Bangalore. Three high-profile women murdered, their bodies draped in identical red saris. When the killer targets the British Foreign Minister’s ex-wife, Scotland Yard sends the troubled, brilliant DI Vijay Patel to lend his expertise to the Indian police investigation. Stranger in a strange land, ex-professional cricketer Patel must battle local resentment and his own ignorance of his ancestral country, while trying to save his failing relationship back home.

17 August: Velvet Was the Night by Silvia Moreno-Garcia, Jo Fletcher Books

1970s Mexico City: while student protests and political unrest consume the city, Maite escapes from her humdrum life in the stories of passion and danger that fill the latest issue of Secret Romance. She is deeply envious of her neighbour, Leonora, a beautiful art student who lives the life of excitement and intrigue Maite craves – so when she disappears under suspicious circumstances, Maite jumps at the chance to uncover Leonora’s secrets.

No Honour by Awais Khan, Orenda Books

A young woman defies convention in a small Pakistani village, with devastating results for her and her family. A stunning, immense beautiful novel about courage, family and the meaning of love, when everything seems lost

19 August: Come Hell Or High Water by Christian Unge, MacLehose Press

The first in a new Swedish crime series featuring Tekla Berg – a fearless doctor with a remarkable photographic memory. With 85% per cent burns to his body and a 115% risk of dying, it’s a miracle the patient is still alive. That he made it this far is thanks to Tekla Berg, an emergency physician whose unorthodox methods and photographic memory are often the difference between life and death.

Bread: The Bastards of Pizzofalcone by Maurizio de Giovanni, Europa Editions

Sometimes it takes facing a formidable adversary to truly know one’s worth. The Bastards of Pizzofalcone may have found just that: when the brutal murder of a baker rattles the city, they are ready to investigate. There’s nothing they wouldn’t do to prove themselves to their community. But this time the police are divided: for the special anti-mob branch, the local mafia is doubtlessly responsible for the crime, but the Bastards are not so sure and think there may be another reason for the murder of the renowned artisan, whose traditionally baked bread attracted customers from far and wide. A rivalry between the policeman and the magistrate is formed, one that, in the end, will extend to more than just their work lives.

Of Fangs and Talons by Nicolas Mathieu, Sceptre

When a factory that employs most of a small town is scheduled to close - to the despair of the workers and disdain of the overlords - things start to fall apart. The disenfranchised factory workers have nothing left to lose. Martel, the trade union rep with innumerable tattoos and Bruce, the body-builder addicted to steroids resort to desperate measures. A bungled kidnapping on the streets of Strasbourg goes horribly wrong and they find themselves falling prey to the machinations of the criminal underworld.

End Of Summer by Anders De La Motte, trans Neil Smith , Zaffre

Summer 1983: Four-year-old Billy chases a rabbit in the fields behind his house. But when his mother goes to call him in, Billy has disappeared. Never to be seen again.

Today: Veronica is a bereavement counsellor. She's never fully come to turns with her mother's suicide after her brother Billy's disappearance. When a young man walks into her group, he looks familiar and talks about the trauma of his friend's disappearance in 1983. Could Billy still be alive after all this time?

Resilience by Bogdan Hrib, translated by Marina Sofia, Corylus Books

Stelian Munteanu has had enough of being an international man of mystery: all he wants to do is make the long-distance relationship with his wife Sofia work. But when the notorious Romanian businessman Pavel Coman asks him to investigate the death of his daughter in the north of England, he reluctantly gets involved once more in what proves to be a tangled web of shady business dealings and political conspiracies. Moving rapidly between London, Newcastle, Bucharest and Iasi, this novel shows just how easy it is to fall prey to fake news and social media manipulation.

31 August: My Name is Jensen by Heidi Amsinck, Muswell Press

Guilty. One word on a beggar’s cardboard sign. And now he is dead, stabbed in a wintry Copenhagen street, the second homeless victim in as many weeks. Dagbladet reporter Jensen, stumbling across the body on her way to work, calls her ex lover DI Henrik Jungersen. As, inevitably, old passions are rekindled, so are old regrets, and that is just the start of Jensen’s troubles. The front page is an open goal, but nothing feels right….. When a third body turns up, it seems certain that a serial killer is on the loose. But why pick on the homeless? And is the link to an old murder case just a coincidence? With her teenage apprentice Gustav, Jensen soon finds herself putting everything on the line to discover exactly who is guilty …

2 September: The Second Woman by Louise Mey, translated by Louise Rogers Lalaurie, Pushkin Vertigo

Missing persons don’t always stay that way. Sandrine lives alone, rarely speaking to anyone other than her colleagues. She is resigned to her solitary life, until she sees on TV a man despairing for his wife who has mysteriously disappeared. Sandrine is drawn to him and eventually the two strike up a relationship. When the man’s wife reappears, Sandrine is forced to confront the truth about him.

The Wrong Goodbye by Toshihiko Yahagi, translated by Alfred Birnbaum, MacLehose Press

In a nod to Raymond Chandler, The Wrong Goodbye pits homicide detective Eiji Futamura against a shady Chinese business empire and U.S. military intelligence in the docklands of recession hit Japan. After the frozen corpse of immigrant barman Tran Binh Long washes up in midsummer near Yokosuka U.S. Navy Base, Futamura meets a strange customer from Tran’s bar. Vietnam vet pilot Billy Lou Bonney talks Futamura into hauling three suitcases of “goods” to Yokota US Air Base late at night and flies off leaving a dead woman behind. My review:

The Wrong Goodbye

The Wrong Goodbye An Eiji Futamura Investigation by Toshihiko Yahagi #JanuaryInJapan The Wrong Goodbye An Eiji Futamura Investigation by Tos

FICTION FROM AFAR

28 September

The Ice Coven by Max Seeck, Berkley

Investigator Jessica Niemi is in a race against time to find the link between a body with strange markings that has washed up on a frigid shore in Finland and two mysterious disappearances in this terrifying new novel from the New York Times bestselling author of The Witch Hunter.

30 September

The Jealousy Man and Other Stories by Jo Nesbo, Harvill Secker

This outstanding collection of short stories showcases all the writing skill that has made Jo Nesbo the undisputed ‘king of all crime writers’ (Daily Express) and a repeat Sunday Times #1 bestseller. Filled with dark intrigue, twists and unforgettable characters, these page-turners will have you reading late into the night.

Wild Shores by Maria Adolfsson, Zaffre

One terrible truth will create a perfect storm. While her colleagues enjoy the seasonal festivities, DI Karen Hornby is called to investigate a suspicious death on the northernmost island of Doggerland. But how close to home is the truth of the case...

Night Hunters by Oliver Bottini, MacLehose Press

Over the course of several days one hot summer, a female student from Freiburg disappears, a father is murdered in a brutal attack, a teenage boy drowns in the Rhine in suspicious circumstances. It soon becomes evident to Chief Inspector Louise Boni and her colleagues at Freiburg’s criminal police that the three cases are connected – and that others are now in terrible danger.

The Antarctica of Love by Sara Stridsberg, MacLehose Press

A heartrending existential drama by the acclaimed Swedish writer Sara Stridsberg, The Antarctica of Love is an unfliching testament of a woman on the margins, a tale of family lost and found, and a report of a murder in the voice of the victim. This novel of life after death unfolds in brief vignettes, brimming with unexpected tenderness and hope.

7 October: The Stoning: Peter Papathanasiou, MacLehose Press

A small town in outback Australia wakes to a crime of medieval savagery.A local schoolteacher is found taped to a tree and stoned to death. Suspicion instantly falls on the refugees at the new detention centre on Cobb’s northern outskirts. Tensions are high, between whites and Aboriginals, between immigrants and the towniesStill mourning the recent death of his father, Detective Sergeant George Manolis returns to his childhood hometown to investigate.

Lemon by Kwon Yeo-sun House Of Zeus

Focusing on the unsolved murder of teenage girl, this literary crime novel offers insights into gender, class and religion. In the summer of 2002, my big sister Hae-on was murdered. She was beautiful, intelligent, and only nineteen years old. Two boys were questioned, but the case was never solved. Her killer still walks free.

The Survivors by Alex Shulman, Little Brown Dog

Three brothers return to the family cottage by the lake where, more than two decades earlier, a catastrophe changed the course of their lives. Now, they are here to scatter their mother’s ashes – young men, estranged but bound together by the history that defines them. Their lives have been spent competing for their father’s favour and their mother’s love, in a household more like a minefield than a home. What really happened that summer day when everything was blown to pieces?

12 October: The Corpse Flower by Anne Mette Hancock Crooked Lane Books

It’s early September in Copenhagen, the rain has been coming down for weeks, and 36-year-old journalist Heloise Kaldan is in the middle of a nightmare. One of her sources has been caught lying, and she could lose her job over it. And then she receives the first in a series of cryptic and ominous letters from an alleged killer.

14 October Riccardino by Andrea Camilleri, MacMillan

The long-awaited last novel in the bestselling Inspector Montalbano series “At eighty, I foresaw Montalbano’s departure from the scene, I got the idea and I didn’t let it slip away. So I found myself writing this novel which is the final chapter; the last book in the series. And I sent it to my publisher saying to keep it in a drawer and to publish it only when I am gone.” –Andrea Camilleri

The Lonely Ones by Hakan Nesser, MacMillan

Begins in 1969. Six young people arrive in Uppsala. Different circumstances push the three young couples together and, over the course of a few years, they become friends. Years later, a lecturer at Lund University is found dead at the bottom of a cliff in the woods close to Kymlinge. And chillingly, it is the very same spot where one of the Uppsala students died thirty-five years before

28 October The Hideout by Camilla Grebe, Zaffre

Inertia is an eerie psychological thriller from the award-winning Swedish bestselling author Camilla Grebe. When 18-year old Samuel finds himself at the centre of a drug deal gone wrong, he is forced to go underground to escape the police and an infamous drug lord.

The Commandments by Oskar Gudmundsson Corylus Books

On a cold winter morning in 1995, Anton, a 19-year-old boy, met a priest outside Glerárkirkja in Akureyri. After that, he was never seen again. Two decades later a priest is found murdered in the church in Grenivík. When the police investigate the case, they finds that a deacon has also been executed inside Akureyri.

Punishment of a Hunter: Yulia Yakovleva, Pushkin Vertigo

1930s Leningrad: As a mood of fear cloaks the city, Investigator Vasily Zaitsev is called on to investigate a series of bizarre and seemingly motiveless murders. In each case the victim is curiously dressed and posed in extravagantly arranged settings.

Hilde Vandermeeren: The Scorpion’s Head Pushkin Vertigo

Shortly after a fractious weekend away with her family, Gaelle wakes up injured in a psychological hospital in Berlin. Her son is is a coma and the police suspect her of attempting to murder him. With no memory what happened but convinced of her innocence Gaelle escapes and begins a determined hunt for the truth

28 October Cold as Hell by Lilja Sigurdardottir, Orenda Books

Icelandic sisters Áróra and Ísafold live in different countries and aren‘t on speaking terms, but when their mother loses contact with Ísafold, Áróra reluctantly returns to Iceland to find her sister. But she soon realizes that her sister isn’t avoiding her … she has disappeared, without trace.

Here is my review of Betrayal:

Crimes In Translation

Betrayal by Lilja Sigurðardóttir Betrayal by Lilja Sigurðardóttir, translated by Quentin Bates, Orenda Books 2020 This is the second book

The Rabbit Factor by Antti Toumainen, Orenda Books

What makes life perfect? Insurance mathematician Henri Koskinen knows the answer because he calculates everything down to the very last decimal. And then, for the first time, Henri is faced with the incalculable. After suddenly losing his job, Henri inherits an adventure park from his brother – its peculiar employees and troubling financial problems included. The worst of the financial issues appear to originate from big loans taken from criminal quarters … and some dangerous men are very keen to get their money back.

2 November Bricklayers: Selva Almada, Charco Press

Oscar Tamai and Elvio Miranda, the patriarchs of two families of brickmakers, have for years nursed a mutual hatred, but their teenage sons, Pájaro and Ángelito, somehow fell in love. Brickmakers begins as Pájaro and Marciano, Ángelito’s older brother, lie dying in the mud at the base of a Ferris wheel. Inhabiting a dreamlike state between life and death, they recall the events that forced them to pay the price of their fathers’ petty feud.

My review of Dead Girls:

Dead Girls — Charco Press

Dead Girls By Selva Almada Dead Girls By Selva Almada Translated by Annie McDermott, Charco Press Billed as journalist fiction, “Dead Gi

FICTION FROM AFAR

4 November The Night Will Be Long Santiago Gamboa, Europa Editions

When a horribly violent confrontation occurs outside of Cauca, Colombia, only a young boy is around to witness it. But no sooner does the violence happen than it disappears, vanished without a trace. Nobody claims to have seen anything. Nobody claims to have heard anything. That is, until an anonymous accusation catalyzes a dangerous investigation into the deep underbelly of the Christian churches present today in Latin America.

11 November The Shadows of Men by Abir Mukherjee Harvill Secker

When a Hindu theologian is found murdered in his home, the city is on the brink of all-out religious war. Can officers of the Imperial Police Force, Captain Sam Wyndham and Sergeant Surendranath Banerjee track down those responsible in time to stop a bloodbath? Set at a time of heightened political tension, beginning in atmospheric Calcutta and taking the detectives all the way to bustling Bombay presents Wyndham and Banerjee with an unprecedented challenge.

Turf Wars: Oliver Norek, translated by Nick Caistor, MacLehose Press

Since Capitaine Coste and his team’s last case, calm appears to have returned to the SDPJ93 – but not for long. The summary execution of three young dealers – one them shot in the head in full view of a police surveillance team – is the signal for hell to be unleashed in the suburb of Seine-Saint Denis.

The Lost and the Damned

The Lost And The Damned by Olivier Norek The Lost And The Damned Olivier Norek, translated by Nick Caistor, MacLehose Press Aside from th

FICTION FROM AFAR

16 November The Deathwatch Beetle by Kjell Eriksson, Minotaur Book

Four years have passed since Cecilia Karlsson disappeared from the island of Gräsö in Roslagen. When Ann Lindell receives a tip that she has been seen alive she cannot help getting involved, even though she is no longer with the police.

25 November Question of Guilt by Jorn Lier Horst, Penguin

In 1999, seventeen-year-old Tone Vaterland was killed on her way home from work. Desperate for a conviction the police deemed the investigation an open-and-shut case and sent her spurned boyfriend, Danny Momrak, down for murder. 20 years later William Wisting receives a puzzling letter. It suggests the wrong man was convicted for Tone’s death and the real murderer is still out there, and could kill again. . .

December Will To Kill: RV Rama Pushkin Vertigo

Aging and wheelchair-bound patriarch Bhaskar Fernandez has finally reclaimed his family property after a bitter legal battle, and now wants to reunite his aggrieved relatives. So, he invites them to remote Greybrooke Manor in the misty Nilgiris –a mansion that has played host to several sudden deaths; a colonial edifice that stands alone in a valley that is said to be haunted by the ghost of an Englishman. But Bhaskar has other, more practical problems to deal with.

Skin Deep by Antonia Lassa, translated by Jacky Collins, Corylus Books

The corpse of an elderly millionaire is discovered brutally scarred with acid burns. Her young lover is the chief suspect but the authorities admit they are baffled. It will take the intervention of private detective Albert Larten to explore all the complexities of desire, and ultimately reveal the truth.

Erin by Cyril Carrère, trans David Warriner

Erin Silva is struggling to get a grip. She’s young, naive, and has a deep connection to those she loves. But she’s not as fragile as she seems. As she prepares to take over the family business—in spite of some maternal reticence—she finds herself caught up in a chain of ill-fated events. It’s distressing for Erin to stir up the pain of the past, but she’s determined to find out the truth as she sets out to track down those responsible and make them pay. Even if it means letting go of the last illusions that remain of the life she once knew.